December 2004 eNews Bulletin

Tribal Recovery Efforts Fueled by Dairy Farms

The Tulalip Tribes in western Washington may have finally found a way to energize Puget Sound salmon recovery efforts while maintaining their cultural identity and economic stability. The answer lies in manure.

The tribes are pinning hopes on the construction of a biogas facility that would reduce the amount of agricultural runoff to salmon-bearing streams by using the manure from neighboring dairy farms as a fuel.

The Tulalip Reservation, near Marysville, Wash., is surrounded by streams, named for ancestral tribes, that cut through agricultural land on the way to the Puget Sound. With more than 1,200 farms, Snohomish County has been the setting of tense relations between tribal members, who depend on fishing for cultural and economic sustenance, and local dairy farmers, many of whom are struggling to compete with dairies nationwide and avoid selling out to housing developers.

Tribal members, farmers plant the seeds of partnership

For nearly 10,000 years, the livelihood of the Tulalip and the survival of salmon have been inextricably linked, according to Terry Williams, commissioner of fisheries and natural resources for the Tulalip Tribes. The Tulalip commercial fishing crew has declined along with salmon stocks, down to just 30 today from a peak of 130 fishers in the mid-1980s.

The Tulalip have developed a three-pronged approach to restore up to 80% of historic salmon runs in the Skykomish River watershed, working with foresters, farmers and homeowners, Williams said. Efforts are now focused on the biogas facility because it has the potential to greatly benefit salmon stocks, as well as help other stakeholders, he said.

About three years ago, Tulalip tribal leaders began meeting with local farmers to discuss ways to protect the environment while boosting the economy. “One of the reasons we needed to engage the farm community is that we view farmers a lot like our fishermen – independent, tied to the land and water, working hard for what they produce,” Williams said.

By contrast, both farmers and tribal members view encroaching suburban development with skepticism. For farmers, the push to develop more land has driven more of them to sell their property and get out of the agriculture business altogether. And Williams noted that development often leads to the loss of ecological functions that tribes depend on for hunting, fishing and gathering.

“The more we see of the landscape locked up, the less we see the viability of our tribal culture,” Williams added.

Farms can also play a role in damaging the resources the tribes depend upon because flows from farms can degrade stream water quality by raising temperatures and adding dissolved chemicals and nutrients. But tribal members recognized that there could be a way to help the environment and farmers at the same time by turning what had once been looked at only as waste into a resource.

In 2003, the Sno/Sky Agricultural Alliance, Northwest Chinook Recovery, Washington State Dairy Federation and Tulalip Tribes agreed to work together to promote the biogas facility and broader environmental and agricultural recovery efforts in the region.

The proposed biogas plant not only has brought together two traditionally adversarial stakeholders to fill the gaps in federal and state salmon recovery plans, the project also promises to boost the region’s agricultural economy by allowing dairy farmers to increase their herd size. By shipping waste to the facility, dairy farmers would be allowed to keep more cattle on their land under state law.

According to the Clark Group LLC, a consulting firm hired by the biogas partnership, “Limitations on waste disposal have restricted the ability of dairy operations to increase their herd sizes. New state and federal [confined animal feeding operation] regulations hold the potential to only exacerbate this situation.”

Through anaerobic digestion, the biogas plant would break down manure from more than 2,000 cows and 30,000 pounds of food waste daily. It would then trap the resulting methane, a greenhouse gas that would otherwise be released into the atmosphere, and use it to create enough energy to power 200 homes. Heat from the facility could be used to manage a native plant greenhouse for habitat restoration efforts, and the cleaner waste byproduct could be used as fertilizer.

A similar plant in Chino, Calif., which tribal members and farmers have visited, removes more than 5 tons per day of nitrates from groundwater in the Santa Ana River Watershed and produces 30 tons of organic fertilizer daily, according to the Inland Empire Utilities Agency.

Federal, state efforts bolster the project

The federal government has recognized the Snohomish County effort with a $256,000 Energy Department grant for a study of its feasibility and a $500,000 Agriculture Department grant for plant construction. The biogas partnership has not asked for or received any money from the National Marine Fisheries Service for salmon protection. Brian Gorman, a NMFS spokesman, explained that there is not much money available, but the agency can be peripherally involved in such projects.

Washington state has also provided support for the project, passing legislation to allow the transfer of the 277-acre Washington State Reformatory Dairy Farm to the Tulalip Tribes for the biogas facility. The state Legislature has said the facility would have many benefits such as helping to improve water quality in area streams, restoring salmon habitat and creating jobs, noting that it could be a model for other such efforts in the state.

According to the Clark Group, the Snohomish County $2.5 million biogas facility, planned for construction next year, would be the state’s first and the Pacific Northwest’s third such operation. With a feasibility study recently completed, the Clark Group is working with biogas project partners to conduct an environmental review required for necessary state permits.

Critics wary of CAFOs

Although the biogas facility clearly has many benefits, it is not without its detractors, among them environmentalists who are concerned about the expansion of livestock operations, which they have tied to increased water and air pollution. The number of confined animal feeding operations (CAFOs) in the Pacific Northwest has increased in recent years, said Roger Singer of the Sierra Club Seattle chapter, which is part of the Save Our Salmon coalition. “So far we have mixed reactions to this type of [biogas] facility because discharge from the plant is better than having methane disbursed in the air, but they help to promulgate the expansion of CAFOs,” Singer said.

A 2002 report from the National Academy of Sciences National Research Council warned of potential threats to air quality from animal operations. The council report said that animal feeding operations – both large and small – can produce a cocktail of harmful emissions, including ammonia, nitrous oxide, nitric oxide, methane, volatile organic compounds, hydrogen sulfide and particulate matter.

While some farm emissions, such as particulate matter and smelly nitrous oxides, are problematic mainly in areas directly adjacent to farms, others, such as ammonia and methane, can have global consequences, according to the report. Agriculture accounts for about 20% of the emissions of man-made methane, which has a global warming potential 23 times greater than carbon dioxide, the report said.

Tribal leaders tend to traditions

Despite the concerns about the harmful environmental effects of CAFOs, tribal members insisted there would be a net benefit to the environment from the project.

Tribal efforts to protect salmon have a long and complicated history in the Pacific Northwest. “The tribes are called the salmon people,” Williams noted.

The story begins in the early 1900s, when Puget Sound and Columbia River canneries, accompanied by increased forestry and farming operations, caused the first salmon decline in the area, according to Williams. More stringent fisheries management policies then helped to rebuild the salmon stocks.

But by the 1970s and ’80s, salmon stocks had begun to decline rapidly, as forestry, agriculture and housing development increasingly carved up the landscape. At about the same time, the tribe won its fight to retain the natural resources it was guaranteed by treaty in the 19th century. A 1974 court decision and a subsequent Supreme Court ruling entitled the tribes to half of local salmon stocks.

Despite this progress, Williams admitted that the tribes still have their work cut out for them to return salmon populations to their former glory. A recent study of the Skykomish River system indicates that about three-quarters of the original habitat structure has been altered, making waters less inhabitable for many species, he noted.

“We started small, dealing with stream restoration and negotiating with timber industries, and have come a long way,” Williams said. “We still have a way to go.”