It all finds its way downstream

Toxins follow a circuitous route to Puget Sound, as the state cracks down on runoff. Like a dirty sponge in the middle of vast bathtub, Bainbridge soaks up the grit and grime of island life and then squeezes hard when the rains come. But it’s not as though the tub was pristine to begin with. Puget Sound, ringed by nearly 5 million people, receives regular infusions of oil, fertilizers, pesticides, pet waste, heavy metals and other contaminants. Frequent rains pick up this free-flowing filth, washing it from streets and ditches into streams and drain pipes that all leads to one place. “Storm­water from runoff is a major threat to Puget Sound,” said state Department of Ecology spokeswoman Sandy Howard. “It carries a toxic stew of pollution.”

Toxins follow a circuitous route to Puget Sound, as the state cracks down on runoff.

Sound + vision: This is the fourth installment in a multi-part series examining Gov. Chris Gregoire’s initiative and local efforts to clean and protect Puget Sound.

Like a dirty sponge in the middle of vast bathtub, Bainbridge soaks up the grit and grime of island life and then squeezes hard when the rains come.

But it’s not as though the tub was pristine to begin with. Puget Sound, ringed by nearly 5 million people, receives regular infusions of oil, fertilizers, pesticides, pet waste, heavy metals and other contaminants.

Frequent rains pick up this free-flowing filth, washing it from streets and ditches into streams and drain pipes that all leads to one place.

“Storm­water from runoff is a major threat to Puget Sound,” said state Department of Ecology spokeswoman Sandy Howard. “It carries a toxic stew of pollution.”

That’s why Ecology is ratcheting up standards for stormwater management requirements in 81 Washington cities, including Bainbridge Island.

Mandated by the federal Clean Water Act, the state’s new “Phase II” municipal stormwater permits, which go into effect Feb. 16, require higher standards for monitoring and testing stormwater runoff.

Cities must also put more effort into educating the public about stormwater and enact new controls on development, including larger detention ponds and catch basins.

Working with Ecology, Gov. Chris Gregoire has proposed spending $25.3 million to reduce stormwater runoff over the next two years. The new “Phase II” expansion is a key part of the governor’s plan to clean up the sound.

Bainbridge city staff were scrambling this week to prepare for the new rules.

“We’re trying hard to get up to speed with the program, because many (requirements) we’re not doing at all right now,” said engineer Melva Hill, who leads the city’s stormwater program.

From Hill’s perspective, the task looks insurmountable – unless she gets more help.

“With the current resources, I don’t think we can meet the deadline,” she said.

The city has five years to meet various milestones and submit annual reports to the state showing compliance on new programs and standards.

A recent analysis conducted by Otak consultants states that the city needs nine staff working on the new stormwater standards this year.

But, due to high staff turnover and employee re-assigns, the program is down to seven, with only two staffers – Hill and water resources specialist Jalyn Cummings – working on water issues full-time.

For Hill, the staff shortage bodes especially unwell for the near future. According to Otak’s report, the city’s stormwater program will need at least six more full-time equivalent positions by next year.

“We just can’t add more to the plate without the staffing,” Hill said.

Many cities, including Bremerton and Poulsbo, are also struggling to meet the new requirements. But, in some areas, Bainbridge is ahead of the game.

According to the study, Bainbridge already goes beyond the new requirements in the areas of public outreach, thanks to a high number of local volunteers working on issues of stormwater management. The city’s new decant facility, which was built on Vincent Road last year, was “a huge step” in meeting compliance, said Hill.

The $1.3 million facility uses new technologies to filter, clean and dispose of the grit, sludge and noxious chemicals that collect on island roads.

The city also has a clear inventory of how stormwater is channeled throughout the island.

According to a 2006 count, the city is outfitted with 130 miles of open ditches, 20 miles of closed stormwater pipes, about 500 catch basins and more than 60 treatment facilities.

What’s less known is where the concentrated stormwater meets the sound.

“Our stormwater system splays out in every direction,” said Derek Booth, an island resident and regional stormwater expert. “It’s hard to know where it goes.”

According to Hill, no one’s really sure how many outfalls drain into the sound. Otak took a swing at the number, estimating there may be as many as 175 private and public outfalls discharging from the island’s shorelines.

No estimate exists for the number of outfalls draining into island streams and other inland waters, according to Hill.

The city has until 2011 to catalog and map all the outfalls, an undertaking that will require hundreds of hours of staff time.

Booth, who works for Stillwater Sciences and teaches geology at the University of Washington, said the mapping effort is a good start toward curbing the island-to-sound pollution contribution.

“In order to improve or clean things up, you’ve got to start by knowing what’s there,” he said.

Still, simply knowing a sore spot’s location won’t heal it.

“Mapping all of it doesn’t make a single drop of water cleaner,” Booth added.

Booth has been an outspoken critic of the new requirements, charging that they don’t do enough to protect the sound. In a letter to the state, he and 13 other scientists said the “Phase II” rules reflect an “unjustifiable timidity in the face of great danger to the sound.”

Taking aim at the Puget Sound Partnership, of which local state legislators Phil Rockefeller and Sherry Appleton are members, the letter zeros-in on the group’s recommendation to Ecology that “Phase II” merely “encourages” lower-impact developments.

“The partnership should not be ‘encouraging’ anything,” the letter states. “The partnership should be describing practices and standards that are vital to sound recovery and recommending that they be implemented and enforced.”

Booth and the “Seattle 14,” as they are now often referred to, urged the state to consider a host of development alternatives to curb polluted runoff. Some of the group’s recommendations include the preservation of large, undeveloped areas that soak up rainwater; a “no-net-loss” policy protecting forest cover; and code changes that require developments use materials and techniques that prevent runoff.

“The existing (stormwater) infrastructure and what they’re recommending is designed to get things away as quick as possible,” which concentrates pollutants and injects them into the sound at a high rate, Booth said. “We’re laboring under the (idea) that the approach fits all. But if that technique were working, we wouldn’t see salmon continue to decline.”

Fast-moving runoff scours fish-bearing streams while funneling “enormous loads of contaminants” that sicken marine animals, close shellfish beaches and feed toxic algae blooms, Booth said.

Instead, Booth advocates “low impact development” principles that help homes or businesses treat runoff on-site. Some increasingly common LID approaches include on-site rainwater collection systems, vegetated roofs and wider, shallower ditches – called “bio-swales” – that feature plants that quickly absorb water.

Pervious pavement – such as the new parking lot at the Bainbridge Public Library – allows water to soak into soil quicker, rather than channeling through stormwater drains.

“It’s all very do-able,” said Matthew Coates, an island architect specializing in LID approaches. “It’s more responsible to deal with (runoff) on-site and it doesn’t tax the infrastructure as much.”

Coates is designing more than a half-dozen residences on the island that incorporate swales, pervious surfaces and other LID elements. But Coates believes the island is fertile ground for more low-impact options.

“I envision bio-swales and maybe pervious pavement lining all the streets so we don’t have all this (runoff) ending up in the sound,” he said.

Hill believes “Phase II” rules could push many to consider Coates’ vision.

“Right now, our largest detention pond is about an acre,” she said. “In adopting the Department of Ecology’s (rules), the ponds we see could be substantially larger, between 33 and 300 percent larger.”

Few have the space or the money to build such amenities, she added.

“It’ll be difficult finding space that big because land value here is so high,” she said. “People will have to get creative really fast.”

Some developers and municipalities already have. The cities of Bellingham and Seattle have developed LID street districts that incorporate bioswales and pervious concrete. Seattle Public Utilities reports a 99 percent reduction in stormwater volume in city-led LID areas.

Ecology Director Jay Manning is under no illusion that the new regulations – with all their added pressures and limitations – will cure all the sound’s ills.

“This alone will not fix the pollution problems from runoff, but it represents a significant advance in water quality protection for Washington,” he said. “Urban stormwater runoff is a challenge that state and local governments must solve together to protect out waters.”