It’s easy to think of Vashon as separate and apart, a happily discrete place with few connections to the mainland.
Indeed, that philosophy is at the root of some of our most innovative and successful efforts. VashonBePrepared, for instance, is driven in large part by the realization that in a crisis, we need to be able to take care of ourselves. And some of the exciting ecological efforts on Vashon stem from a belief that the Island could become a model for a closed-loop system of sustainability, using our garbage, for example, to produce energy.
At the same time, though, Vashon is part of a much larger ecological system — one called Central Puget Sound — and when it comes to marine life, this Island plays a regional role.
Huge restoration projects are taking place to the north of us (the Skagit Delta) and to the south (the Nisqually Delta) in an effort to bolster our ailing salmon runs. The Nisqually project is particularly exciting: After a century of fencing off tidal flows, the Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge has torn down dikes and returned 762 acres of this expansive delta to saltwater estuary — the largest tidal marsh restoration project in the Pacific Northwest.
These efforts are making a difference, biologists say. More young salmon — including runs listed as threatened under the federal Endangered Species Act — are leaving the protected waters of these large recovering estuaries and making their way into Central Puget Sound, where they need gradually receding shorelines that provide food as well as safe harbor from predators.
That’s where we come in.
Across the water to the east is nothing but beachfront development and armored shoreline — the opposite of what these young salmon need. There’s a bit more natural shoreline to the west, on the Kitsap Peninsula, but there, too, growth has taken a toll.
Vashon has 50 miles of shoreline, including some important stretches of beach with few houses and little development — places like Piner Point on the southern tip of Maury, where King County hopes to remove a 225-foot bulkhead.
To those who have lived on Vashon for years, bulkhead removal can be a frightening thought; much of the Island’s recent history has been centered around keeping tidal forces at bay. Done right, however, the removal of a bulkhead can mean more sand on our beaches, more driftwood at the high-water mark and more life in our waters — without threatening homes.
The county, based on all that we’ve heard, is poised to do it right, and the Island should embrace this effort.
Indeed, the project at Piner Point represents a significant step towards a larger effort at regional ecological restoration — our small but important contribution to a larger story of hope and rebirth.