Peter Goldmark has taken a bold step.
Seven months onto the job as the head of the state Department of Natural Resources, he has issued an edict no other government leader has: He’s told Glacier Northwest to prove that its industrial operations along an ecologically fragile — and state-owned — stretch of Puget Sound won’t further erode our imperiled inland sea.
It’s possible, of course, that Goldmark’s move amounts to a bone thrown to environmentalists, a constituency that helped him enormously in defeating his predecessor, Doug Sutherland, for one of the state’s highest elected offices: Get Glacier to jump through a few more hoops, call it due diligence and forget about this small stretch of Maury Island and its vociferous residents.
But such cynicism shouldn’t be directed towards Goldmark, a rancher known for his conservation ethic and straightforward manner. Indeed, this is due diligence on his part — but it appears to be due diligence with one issue in mind: ensuring that Glacier’s industrial activity — the back and forth of barges, their propeller wash, their noise, their shading and their potential to spill — doesn’t smother a critical swath of habitat.
What is there along this stretch of Maury Island? Eelgrass beds, the forests of Puget Sound. It’s hard for us to fully appreciate them, hidden as they are by water. But according to marine biologists, these beds, declining throughout the region, are the nurseries that give birth to the Sound’s complex food chain. This is where the surf smelt, sand lance and herring hang out. Take them away and the salmon suffer. Take the salmon away, and the orcas suffer.
Destroy eelgrass beds, and the web begins to unravel. Indeed, it’s happening throughout the region, which is why Puget Sound is in trouble.
The Beachcomber hears from readers on occasion who question the upset over Glacier. The gravel mining it wants to do is on land it owns, land zoned for such activities, some note. But keep in mind: While Glacier will be mining its own land, it would be doing so — according to a lease Sutherland issued — with the full support of the state, building upon submerged lands that the public owns for a paltry $1,500 a year. As Goldmark pointed out in an interview shortly after he was elected, he’d get more money if he rented out a room in his house for a year.
There’s been scant good news in this decade-long effort to hold Glacier accountable for the potential ecological damage its activities could wreak. Last week, however, was a banner day for those of us who care desperately about the fate of our beloved Puget Sound.
Goldmark’s move was not brash; he didn’t revoke the lease Sutherland issued. But he has put Glacier on notice and made clear his priorities: Puget Sound, he has said in no uncertain terms, matters.
