The Exxon Valdez Oil Spill and the Grassroots Response

Kate Neidhamer

In the early morning of March 24, 1989, just minutes after midnight, the supertanker Exxon Valdez ran aground on Bligh Reef. An estimated 11 million gallons of crude oil was dumped into the fragile ecosystem of Prince William Sound in South Central Alaska. An estimated 250,000 seabirds, 2,800 sea otters, 250 bald eagles, 22 killer whales and billions of salmon and herring eggs were killed; in fact, so many salmon and herring died that the 1989 commercial fishing season was canceled completely (EVOSTC 2004).

Many people responded to the spill in various ways. Some blamed Exxon and refused to help with the cleanup efforts at all; others worked for Exxon, leasing out boats and themselves for $3,500 per day and $16.69 per hour (Maki 2004); while still others assisted in forming grassroots organizations to help protect the animals and resources of the Sound. It is this third group of people on which this essay will focus.

In concord with Alyeska’s “Contingency Plan,” the International Bird Rescue and Research Center (IBRRC) was brought in to clean any birds harmed by the oil. Jessica Porter, Alice Berkner and Jay Holcomb of the IBRCC were faced with an unusual problem that they had to solve before they could start the cleanup process; someone had to gather the birds and bring them in to the center to be cleaned. The “Contingency Plan” failed to stipulate how this retrieval was to be done. On the sixth day of the spill, Kelley Weaverling was asked to head an operation to rescue oiled birds and bring them to Cordova so that they could be washed. (Keeble 1999: 94).

Described as “[a] tall man with aquiline features, long black hair, and a beard, incisive, opinionated, and given to wearing sandals, baggy pants, and sleeveless sweaters…”, Weaverling was just a man who liked to spend his summers exploring Prince William Sound with his wife (Keeble 1999: 94). For five summers, for four months at a time, Weaverling and his wife, Susan Ogle, would kayak the Sound, taking notes of each beach and shoreline they passed. Soon, Weaverling had a stack of notebooks detailing the water’s edges, the vegetation found there, any animals he may have sighted-notes that he thought would be useless to people other than himself. His observations would soon be used as a guideline for finding birds among the oil, capturing them, and bringing them back to shore for the IBRCC to rejuvenate (Weaverling 2004).

Weaverling started out early morning of Day 7, March 31, 1989, with a small fleet of five boats. The number of boats under his command quickly grew to 21, and then, eventually, to 45 boats, about 250 people, 2 float planes and 1 helicopter. Everything was done locally: the people manning the boats were Cordovans; the boats themselves were area fishing vessels; even the boxes used for transport came from the Orca cannery, located in Cordova (Weaverling 2004).

Communication was a big problem for Weaverling and his crew. Due to the influx of people in the area and boats on the water, phones and radios were constantly busy, and it was almost impossible to get a line out. Once a line out was achieved, it was nearly guaranteed that the recipient’s line would be busy. Weaverling had the problem of re-supplying his crew and equipment when needed without communication. This, however, turned out to be not as big a problem as Weaverling anticipated. His team already knew what to do. Using the ship’s radio, the crew would contact the Coast Guard who would act as a medium to send messages to family and friends on shore. If a crew needed a shift change, the Coast Guard was contacted, who then called, most often, a sailor’s wife, who sent word around the neighborhood that the crew needed a break. And, then a new crew would be sent out to find and rescue more birds.

While Weaverling and his team were out collecting oiled birds, they naturally came across many hurt otters as well. Driven out of care and compassion for the wounded animals, they started to bring in the otters, as well. Unfortunately, at that time, there was no Otter Rescue Center in Cordova; so, Weaverling was told that an Otter Rescue Center would be built in Cordova seeing as the one in Valdez would have been overrun at the rate Weaverling was working anyway. Weaverling was told that it would be ready for operation in five days. This, however, was not to be. The Fish and Wildlife officials had decided to add a second Otter Rescue Center in Seward, not Cordova. Shortly afterwards, Exxon told Weaverling to stop his rescue mission. Exxon did not want to know about any more birds being harmed by their oil. If no birds were being brought to the IBRCC, then that meant they must be living, unharmed, in their natural environment. Weaverling ignored them and continued anyway. Weaverling said: “I was never personally paid by Exxon or Veco…so they had no power over me” (Keeble 1999: 97).

After his jaunt with rescuing hurt birds, Weaverling continued to keep atop of cleanup efforts. He organized a project on Perry Island to observe the impact of oil and people involved in the cleanup process. In 1992, Weaverling was elected mayor of Cordova, the highest elected member of the Green Party in the country. Kelley Weaverling was just an average guy whose unique knowledge called him to act after a disaster took place in his homeland. His passion and love for the land gave him that extra push to keep going when things looked bad (Weaverling 2004).

From daylight on March 24, 1989, Marilyn Leland, then the director of the Cordova District Fishermen United (CDFU), offered to Exxon the fishermen’s knowledge of water currents, winds and geography of the Sound, the use of their boats and themselves as resources to be taken advantage of in hopes of controlling the spill. Exxon refused their help at first. Dennis Kelso, director of the Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC), then asked a select few to join him in a meeting with Exxon’s big brass. These chosen fishermen were David Grimes, Jack Lamb, Rick Steiner, a marine biologist, and Fredericka (Riki) Ott, who had a Masters in oil pollution and a PhD. in sediment toxicology (Ott 2004).

Exxon representative, Frank Iarossi, listened to the four fishermen’s requests and suggestions and set their ideas into motion. The major concern at that time was to protect the fishing hatcheries from the oncoming oil. At first, Exxon people were reluctant to pull so many resources together for one project, but Grimes convinced them saying, “When it looks like everything’s lost, you’re freed from limitations. You can go for it” (Keeble 1999: 89).

Directed by Lamb, the group of fishermen protecting the hatcheries became known as the Mosquito Fleet. The fight for the hatcheries, especially the Koering Hatchery located at Sawmill Bay on Evans Island, became known as “The Battle of Sawmill Bay.” Lamb and his workforce studied the coastline and found natural bays and harbors that oil could be cached into. Boom was set up so that any oil that hit would be funneled into these bays and harbors (Steiner 2004).

Like many endeavors in the immediate aftermath of the oil spill, the Mosquito Fleet met with several problems. The largest of these was the lack of materials. Not only was there an insufficient amount of boom available to use, some of the boom that was there was too old, too thin, or too weak to do much good. The Mosquito Fleet had to repair almost as much boom as it was laying on a daily basis. There was also a lack of basic supplies; a shortage of nuts and bolts that were needed to repair the boom, radios and other communication devices were scarce. Weather also caused a problem. A few days of fog delayed the placement of boom, making the fishermen even more nervous about the hatcheries’ chances of survival.

On Friday, Day 8 of the spill, the oil reached the booms placed around Sawmill Bay. Luckily they held, and the hatcheries were saved. About a week later, 150 million small fry were released into the oil-free waters. They were not completely free from harm that the oil presented, but at least they survived the initial release. Over 60 ADEC workers, 50 fishermen from Cordova and 40 vessels helped out in the “Battle for Sawmill Bay.” Someone commented, once the hatcheries were safe, that “[b]y the end of Day 10, Sawmill Bay looked like the Alamo of the oil spill” (1991 Oil Spill Conference 1991: 322).

Some individuals decided not to wait for Exxon to cooperate. One such individual was Tom Copeland. He loaded his boat up with a pump and several 5-gallon buckets and headed out towards Knight Island. On his first day out, Copeland and his crew pulled in 1,500 gallons of oil; on his best day Copeland drew 2,500 gallons of oil. The professionals hired by Exxon averaged 1,200 gallons (Keeble 1999: 89). This just goes to show that one person, armed with a few five gallon buckets and a lot of determination can make a difference in a big way.

Once the Mosquito Fleet salvaged the hatcheries, the fishermen did not just go away. In 1993, still fed up with Exxon’s broken promises and run-arounds, the fishermen decided to take matters to the next level. Fisherman Jim Gray proposed that they “call bullshit on Exxon’s media blitz.” (Keeble 1999: 323). Contacting Riki Ott and David Grimes, they asked her to find out when the next Exxon tanker was scheduled to enter Port Valdez. A date and time were found, and the fishermen quickly gathered together to form what would be known as the 1993 Fishermen’s Blockade.

On August 19th, 65 ships gathered in Jack Bay, just off of the Valdez narrows, and prepared to block, in a symbolic fashion, the Exxon ship SeaRiver Baton Rouge. Not really intending to do any harm, the fishermen just wanted attention to be brought to their cause. The Baton Rouge did not show at its scheduled time. It was delayed until further notice. In fact, all the oil companies delayed their tankers, not wanting to receive the heat meant for Exxon. When asked what the delay was for, a worker replied that Exxon was “waiting out the storm”. When asked what storm, as the weather was clear, he simply responded, “the political one” (Ott 2004).

Entering into the third day of the blockade, the BP ship Arco Alaska made towards the Narrows. The blockage held. Grey, who was the un-appointed spokesperson for the fishermen, had all the ships in his fleet disconnect their radios. When the Coast Guard asked Gray what his intentions were, Gray simply, and truthfully, answered, “Commander, I’ve lost control of my fleet” The blockade held out, and the Arco Alaska turned away. “It was a great thing for civil disobedience,” concluded Riki Ott (Ott 2004).

Alaskans were not the only ones concerned with the oil spill. Response came from all fifty of the United States, and from around the world. Governor Steve Cowper, overwhelmed with offers of personnel and monetary support, assigned the Alaska Conservation Foundation (ACF) to organize and fund all of the assistance. Using the ACF’s funding, environmental groups such as Greenpeace and the Sierra Club in Alaska opened a Volunteer Response Center in Anchorage. There they processed 2,800 inquiries, gathered about 300 work applications and placed 250 people in the area to help in any way they could. This included public education, retrieval and rehabilitation of wildlife, research and monitoring damage, among other things. (Ross: 181)

As early as 1986, the citizens around Valdez had asked Alyeska to create some sort of advisory committee staffed by community members. Alyeska refused, saying such a committee was unnecessary. After the grounding of the Exxon Valdez, such a group was finally formed. The Prince William Sound Regional Citizens’ Advisory Council (PWS RCAC) was created in February of 1990 with the help of an Alyeska contract.

Also in 1990, the Oil Pollution Act of 1990 (OPA 90) was passed in August, mandating that such a citizens’ oversight committee exist. It is no coincidence that the RCAC structure fit so perfectly with the limitations set by OPA 90; in fact, many of the same people involved in the RCAC helped to write the OPA 90 bill. Completely independent of Alyeska, Exxon or any other oil company, RCAC is an advisory-only committee. They do not have the power to pass any laws or enforce any regulations. However, the RCAC is allowed, at any time, to enter the Alyeska facilities to determine if they are up to current codes and standards. Made up of people from the Prince William Sound, Kodiak Island or Kenai Peninsula area, the RCAC is a non-profit corporation that started out with one goal in mind - promoting an environmentally safe operation of the Alyeska Pipeline marine terminal in Valdez and the oil tankers that use it.

Today, the RCAC focuses on three areas: 1. Oil prevention and response plans, 2. Environmental protection capabilities, and 3. Actual and potential environmental impacts of terminal and tanker operations. The RCAC is given an annual budget of around 2.7 million dollars a year, provided by Alyeska (PWSRCAC 2004a).

The board members come from Alaska Native villages, cities, boroughs, Native corporations, commercial fishing organizations, the tourist industry and an environmental consortium. Each entity chooses one representative to sit on the board, for a total of 19 members. Most of the RCAC’s membership comes from volunteers from the area (PWSRCAC 2002: 5).

In the past 15 years, much has changed in the oil transportation business, and the RCAC has had a hand in helping to change laws and enforce stricter regulations. One major difference is in the design of oil tankers traveling trough the Sound. Now, thanks again to the OPA 90, tankers must be double hulled. This means there are two protective layers between the shipment of oil and the water. By the year 2015, all tankers traveling into Valdez will have to be double hulled, or they will not transport oil. The first double-hulled tanker built specifically for the Valdez terminal was Conoco Phillips’ Polar Endeavor. The RCAC congratulates Conoco Phillips for not only having double hulls, but also double propulsion and steering systems.

Another advancement the RCAC boasts is the improvement of the escort system. In 1989, escort tugs did not even take ships into the Valdez Narrows, arguably the most dangerous section of water in Prince William Sound. Now, two escort tugs lead ships out of the Narrows, making the voyage much safer.

One main problem with Alyeska was that while there was a “Contingency Plan,” it was, for the most part, ignored. Also, before the Exxon Valdez spill, individual ships were not required to have their own plans. Now all of that has changed. Emergency boom is currently on every ship, and the crew practices in drills on a regular basis.

Oil spills are not the only danger connected with oil transportation. Daily operations create a vapor pollutant that is very harmful to the environment. Thousands of oil vapors escape out of cargo holds every time the ships reload. These vapors are harmful and contain toxins that have been known to cause cancer in humans. In 1995, the port of Valdez installed systems that capture the vapors before they enter air, an achievement the RCAC can be proud of (PWSRCAC 2004b).

The RCAC is now looking towards the future. They hope to someday soon start a brother chapter to the PWS RCAC that will oversee the Trans Alaska Pipeline System, or TAPS. The pipeline runs over 800 rivers, streams and other waterways where an oil spill, even a tiny one, could be more environmentally dangerous than the Exxon Valdez spill was. Former Valdez mayor and current RCAC executive director John Devens said, “Our contract [with Alyeska] is what limits us to just the tankers…” (Devens 2004).

Another area that the RCAC is looking towards improving is the treatment of ballast water. Water is pumped into the empty cargo holds of ships before they set off as an empty ship will not travel well. This water is known as ballast. When an oil tanker empties its load off the coast of California, where most of the crude oil goes, water from the ocean there is pumped into the ship before it heads back up to Alaska. Once back in Alaska, the ship must get rid of the ballast to make room for the next load. In the past, this water was just pumped directly back into the ocean. Along with the water, micro organisms and sea creatures are also being dumped into this new environment which can change the ecosystem of the area (Leland 2004).

While the current Ballast Water Treatment Center in Valdez circulates up to 30 million gallons of water a year, the RCAC does not think that the system is sterilizing the water enough. Already there are signs of non-indigenous species living in Alaska. The green crab and the Chinese Mitten Crab are just two examples. The RCAC hopes to improve the standards for ballast water treatment in the near future to protect the fragile ecosystem of the Sound.

Throughout the cleanup and aftermath of the Exxon Valdez spill, the most interesting discoveries have come from individuals. People like Riki Ott, Rick Steiner and Kelley Weaverling took their individual talents and put them together to help out for the greater good. Also, there seems to be a common theme among these people; the need to pass on the enthusiasm and compassion they felt. It’s what urged them forward when times were hard. If future generations can even have a fraction of the enthusiasm shown by these people then the possibilities are endless. Dan Lawn, a DEC employee, said “It’s up to you as young persons to get involved, get others interested in something you care about to force the government to help” (Lawn 2004).

Although the Exxon Valdez oil spill is considered the worst oil spill in U.S. history, in an environmental sense, there is some good that has come from it. It took the disaster of the Exxon Valdez to wake up the government and the United States as a whole to the problem of oil consumption. The demand for oil in America is so large that all of the oil in the North Slope of Alaska could only fuel the U.S. for six months before being completely depleted. Americans are gas-guzzling consumers who would rather drive into town in their Hummers before walking or riding a bike. Oil is the backbone of our society, and as terrible as the spill in Prince William Sound was, it was not large enough for Americans to change their lifestyles.

Every year 30 million gallons of oil is spilled into American waterways. That is almost three times what was spilled in 1989. But, it is not from a single oil spill being dumped all at once. Most of the oil from that 30 million comes from private automobile usage. From the everyday, blue collar worker who donates a portion of his yearly income to charity but does not notice his car leaking (Ott 2004).

Scientifically speaking, the aftermath of the Exxon Valdez has been beneficial. Before, there were no surveys taken about the numbers of wildlife in the Prince William Sound area. Calculating the damage done to the fish population was almost impossible because of the lack of data. Now, largely thanks to the Exxon Valdez Oil Spill Trustee Council (EVOSTC) and the Gulf of Alaska Ecosystem Monitoring and Research Project (GEM), all sorts of data is being collected and stored for future use. Some believe that the amount of research we are able to do now would have taken the government 100 years to do (Mundy 2004).

Just because Exxon is no longer out on the beaches, cleaning off rocks one by one, it does not mean that the effects of the Exxon Valdez oil spill are not ongoing. Quite the opposite, the effects of this one spill are very long-lasting. There is still oil to be found in many parts of Prince William Sound. Many animals whose populations were hurt by the spill are still not recovering today. The herring population just took a dive and are at a numerically low-point, which many think can be attributed to lingering effects of oil.

The native subsistence way of life has also been altered greatly by the effects of the oil. In 1989 the natives could not gather food from the tidal zone, a custom that had been practiced by their ancestors. Instead, Exxon brought in truck loads of pre-packaged food for the natives to eat. Food was no longer gathered and distributed to the members of a village, but rather picked up at the store. Once the tidal zone was free to eat from again, the natives had already formed the habit of just going to the store to get what they need. This loss in traditional culture cannot be reimbursed with any amount of monetary value.

Riki Ott argues that there is also a lasting medical effect for the workers who helped clean up the oil. While still working summers cleaning for Exxon, people would call her and ask if she knew anything about why they were “peeing oil”. A number of people’s urine was black after coming home from the cleanup effort. Riki soon discovered that it was not oil that these people were urinating, but rather blood darkly tinted. She urged people to quit the cleanup effort and find a safer job, but the lure of high wages was too strong. Today there are still medical concerns facing those clean up people who had contact with the oil and the solutions used to clean the oil off with. In Riki’s upcoming book she will explain just how toxic oil is for humans and wildlife.

In a different venue, Riki is also working with local high school students to form a program that will educate children about oil. She is continually doing research about the dangers of oil, the toxicity of the dispersants and other chemicals used during the cleanup, and the medical setback people who have had close contact with oil have endured. There is no rest for Riki Ott, much to the dismay of Exxon and other oil companies.

The Exxon Valdez oil spill was an environmental disaster. There are many theories on how it could have been avoided, or how cleanup could have gone better, or what the long-lasting effects it had on both humans and wildlife. There are many people who are still very much involved and interested with the process. A lot of these people are the individuals who put their necks on the line back in 1989 and tried to make a difference. These people worked many times against Exxon or Alyeska for little or no pay, and have since been ridiculed or forgotten. We cannot afford to ignore the lessons taught from the Exxon Valdez. We must continue to work hard to preserve this land so that it can continue to be enjoyed for generations to come. (Ott 2004)

I had the opportunity to travel to Alaska and meet with many of the wonderful individuals whose passion for the Prince William Sound area kept them going throughout the hard times. Almost all of them urged us, as a group of young people, to continue what they have started. “Pass the baton” as Riki Ott instructed us. Dan Lawn, Rick Steiner, Riki Ott, Marilyn Leland and others all started the race; now their time is almost up and they have passed the baton onto the next generation. It is now our turn to make a difference. We can do it; we just have to care enough about something. Once we care, the race has started and we are holding the baton. Now we have to preserve the land, or object, or idea that we care about.

For me, personally, I now care about the Prince William Sound area. While kayaking through the Columbia Bay area, our group was being monitored by some sea lions, a couple of otters, lots of bald eagles, and a massive humpback whale. They all watched us as if to say “This is my home. You can come in, look around and stay awhile. But please don’t harm my home, it’s all I have.” Someday I would like to not only tell my own children about how bad humpback whales smell, but I would like them to experience it for themselves. If there continue to be more catastrophes such as Exxon Valdez, this may not be possible.

Works Cited

1991 Oil Spill Conference. 1991. Initial State of Alaska Response to the Exxon Valdez Oil Spill: 321-3

Devens, John. 2004. Personal Interview. Valdez, May 12.

Exxon Valdez Oil Spill Trustee Council. 2004. “Spill Facts: Questions and Answers.” http://www.evostc.state.ak.us/facts/qanda.html (May 25, 2004)

Keeble, John. 1999. Out of the Channel: The Exxon Valdez Oil Spill in Prince William Sound. Tenth Anniversary Edition. Spokane, Washington: Eastern Washington University Press.

Lawn, Dan. 2004. Personal Interview. Valdez, May12.

Leland, Marylin. 2004. Personal Interview. Anchorage, April 30.

Maki, Al. 2004. Personal Interview. Anchorage, May 1.

Mundy, Phil. 2004. Personal Interview. Anchorage, April 30.

Ott, Fredericka. 2004. Personal Interview. Cordova, May 4.

Prince William Sound Regional Citizens’ Advisory Council. 2002. Prince William Sound Regional Citizens’ Advisory Council promotional pamphlet.

Prince William Sound Regional Citizens’ Advisory Council. 2004a. “Alyeska Contract.” http://www.pwsrcac.org/about/alyeska.html (May 25, 2004)

Prince William Sound Regional Citizens’ Advisory Council. 2004b. "Fifteen years after Exxon Valdez, much has changed." The Observer, March.

Ross, Ken. 2000. Environmental Conflict it Alaska. Bolder, Colorado: The University Press of Colorado.

Steiner, Rick. 2004. Personal Interview. Anchorage, May 1.

Weaverling, Kelley. 2004. Personal Interview. Cordova, May 5.

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