Battle of the James
Riverkeeper: A full-time on-the-water advocate for the conservation and responsible stewardship of the James River. That’s what it says in bold print on the back of Chuck Frederickson’s business card. When asked what his biggest obstacle is in protecting Virginia’s main-street waterway, he simply says, “It’s the sheer vastness. It’s so big I can’t be everywhere at once.”
The James certainly is too big for one man to protect it. The river’s watershed encompasses 10,099 square miles, 25 percent of the total area of Virginia. It flows 340 miles through the Commonwealth from the Allegheny Mountains, across the vast valley, into the rolling piedmont hills, and drops 105 feet in a series of spectacular rapids through the infamous seven-mile fall zone in Richmond. Below the capital city, the river gets deep and wide, running sluggishly along the edge of colonial towns and historic tobacco plantations for 111 more miles to the Chesapeake Bay. It is Virginia’s premier recreational destination, offering everything from peaceful canoe journeys to class-IV whitewater adventures. Since colonial times, the James has been the lifeblood of Virginia. By the time they can recite the Pledge of Allegiance, Virginians can tell the story of John Smith and the first colonization of Jamestown along the river’s banks. And just about any history buff can recount a few of the epic Civil War battles along the James.
Today, there’s a different kind of battle being waged: the battle to preserve the James River. And it’s fought by warriors like Fredrickson, using weapons of education, community involvement, and a bit of hands-on grit. “I’m the neighborhood watch guard,” says Frederickson, as he cruises up the river from the Hopwell Marina, 30 miles south of Richmond, in his maritime skiff. “There is a different set of challenges in each part of the river.”
Fredrickson is a Virginia native and over the years has witnessed the river’s environmental strife, including mercury pollution and acidification from power plant emissions, agricultural runoff, and toxic dumping. But his optimism shines through in a visibly passionate appreciation of the river’s surroundings. As he navigates through the Presque National Wildlife Refuge along the James, bald eagles fly overhead and osprey sit perched on buoys. “In the winter I have this all to myself-just me and the eagles.”
Frederickson’s job includes day-to-day monitoring of the river, addressing first and foremost, pollution. It’s pretty basic, he says: Things are still going into the water that shouldn’t.
Non-point-source pollution
Ask nine out of ten people what they think is the biggest source of any watershed pollution, and they’ll probably envision the smokestacks and churning mills of big industry. While these sources are certainly significant, Frederickson says just as much damage is being done from urban lawns and rural agriculture sectors, as nutrient-rich fertilizers run off from fields and eventually empty into the tributaries and streams of the James. The excess nutrients, particularly nitrogen and phosphorus, cause massive algae blooms that smother the water and absorb all of the oxygen, choking out fish and other aquatic life to create “dead zones.”
The Commonwealth has not yet regulated non-point sources of pollution. Just a few years ago some funds were allotted to offer cost-share incentives to farmers that implement Best Management Practices like maintaining vegetated buffers between streams and croplands.
Point-source pollution
Because the James is so long, it ends up taking in the municipal wastewater of more than two million people that live within its watershed. This is in addition to a wide variety of industrial waste and the aforementioned runoff. Point-source pollution emitted from industrial facilities and sewage treatment plants is regulated by the Federal Clean Water Act and State Water Control Law, but according to a recent report released by the Department of Environmental Quality, the regulations are not enough. At least 52 percent of Virginia’s waterways are polluted, and that study only includes streams that are currently being monitored.
“The more monitoring they do, the more pollution they find, so that probably indicates that there are more problems out there than we’re aware of,” says Patti Jackson, president of the James River Association.
In addition to these perpetual problems, Frederickson also notes the occasional accidents he encounters. On his second day on the job he was called to a group of 10,000 dead fish that resulted from a chemical spill.
Whatever the source of pollution, “The root of the problem is money,” says Jackson. Virginia ranks dead last in the country on spending for natural resource protection, with less than one percent of the budget allocated for natural resources.
“Even as awareness improves, there’s still not enough money allotted to bring the river up to standards by getting the nutrients and sediments reduced, helping implement technology at sewage treatment plants, and helping farmers with management practices. This is one of those direct consequences of the state budget situation.”
Facing such extreme budgetary shortfalls, nonprofits like the James River Association have been forced to step up their efforts. Established in 1976, the non-profit James River Association is focused on protecting the natural and historic resources of the James River watershed. The James River Association has a staff of just seven and a membership of 2,300, so a lot of their work relies on volunteers. “As government is doing less, there is more work for the public and the nonprofit community, because there are gaping holes of things that are not getting done,” says Jackson. “It’s a lot to keep up with, and that’s why it’s important for folks to look at what they can do in their community.” Fifteen years ago the JRA started an annual cleanup that takes place on the second Saturday in June, which now with the help of other host organizations draws more than 600 volunteers along the river from Richmond to Lynchburg. With a number of other localities and river groups, they also host James River Days throughout the year, where they invite people to tour the river and its shores as a public awareness and education outreach effort.
“A lot of what we do is to get people out on the river to experience it,” says Jackson. “Hopefully they’ll come back to help with a river clean-up or be more sensitive about using fertilizers on their lawn. They may even take some role as an advocate to contact their legislature to support an initiative that will improve the river.”
Back on the water, Frederickson echoes the sentiment from a deeper place. “We all have a responsibility. Being able to use this river is a privilege. The Commonwealth acts as a trustee for the river, but it is up to us to take care of it.”
For more information about the James, contact the James River Association at 804-730-2898 and order a copy of State of the James, which gives a more detailed look at land use, habitat, and water quality issues affecting the river.
