LATE IN the evening of 23 March 1989, the Exxon Valdez left its berth at the Port of Valdez, Alaska. The ship, destined for Long Beach in California, was loaded with more than 175,000 tonnes of Prudhoe Bay crude oil. By 1204 hours the following day, the supertanker lay grounded on nearby Bligh Reef, eight of its 11 cargo tanks ruptured. There followed the worst oil spill in American history (‘Alaska has its fill of oil’, Â鶹´«Ã½, 12 August 1989).
Within five hours, approximately 35,000 tonnes of fresh oil leaked into the clear waters of Prince William Sound. The immediate victims of the spill were the birds and marine mammals living in the sound. Then, as the spreading oil slick washed onto further shores, it killed or injured other animals on land and in the sea. It devastated habitats, threatened fish hatcheries, suffocated tiny marine organisms, closed some of the commercial fisheries, and damaged the ecosystem so badly that some scientists think it will never recover (see Box overleaf).
Yet there is another legacy of the oil spill; one that is less dramatic, but equally disturbing. It is the disruption of some of the normal processes of science. Scientists investigating the results of the spill have become caught up in the legal war now being waged between the Exxon Corporation, based in New York, and the scores of public and private parties suing the oil giant for damages. Those pressing for full and immediate publication of the results of their studies have found themselves bogged down in conflicts over the fact that their results will be used in subsequent legal proceedings.
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The lawsuits with the highest profiles will be those already announced by the US Department of Justice and the State of Alaska (This Week, 10 March). Each will seek millions of dollars in compensation for alleged violations of numerous state and federal laws. In addition, about 150 environmental groups, local organisations and individuals are taking Exxon to court. Two cases have already begun.
The scientific community has become increasingly embroiled through its role in analysing and predicting the impact of the spill. Initially, hundreds of scientists converged on Prince William Sound to help to fight the spill, to assist in the rescue of wildlife, and to gather crucial baseline data from areas that lay in the expanding oil slick’s path. The focus shifted when researchers were subsequently hired by Exxon, the State of Alaska, and the US government to assess the nature and extent of damage caused by the wreck of the tanker.
According to Don Collinsworth, head of the Alaska Department of Fish and Game (ADF&G), between 50 and 70 government-sponsored studies have been, or are being, conducted to determine the extent of injury to the sound. He says that there are hundreds of scientists investigating the effect of oil on the coastal habitat, the air and water, fish and shellfish, marine mammals, land animals, and birds.
When the results are known, Collinsworth explains, financial experts will attempt to put a price on the damage. Guidelines for doing this are set out in the US Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation, and Liability Act. The act gives the state the right to sue ‘responsible parties’ for restoring resources that were harmed by the spill.
What this all means to scientists, says Alaska’s attorney-general Doug Baily, is that much of their data is ‘sensitive’ – that is, it could be used in court. Consequently, those researchers working on damage-assessment projects funded by both the state and federal governments have been told not to reveal their findings. ‘We are unwilling to provide our raw data to the world when a substantial, well-funded adversary – an adversary in every meaning of the word at this point with respect to the Exxon Valdez oil spill – declines to do so,’ said Baily of the so-far unsuccessful efforts to convince Exxon to share its data. Likewise, scientists doing assessment work for Exxon have been instructed by company lawyers not to talk.
These so-called ‘gag orders’ have outraged researchers who believe that the free exchange of data, peer review and publication of findings at the heart of conventional scientific practice should also apply to the results of studies of the oil spill.
At a conference held earlier this month in Cordova, Alaska, Chuck Meacham of the ADF&G triggered appreciative laughter when he told delegates how life had changed after the oil spill. ‘All of a sudden, instead of the traditional biological activities – managing fish and so forth – we were faced with various confidentiality limitations on what we could say, and, basically, metric tonnes of lawyers showed up,’ he said.
The Cordova meeting was convened by the recently formed Prince William Sound Science Center. One of the purposes of the meeting, says the centre’s interim director, ecologist John Harville, was to sidestep some of the secrecy enshrouding research on oil spills. While Harville says he is pleased that more than 60 scientists from a broad range of disciplines attended, he remains frustrated by the restrictions many faced. ‘We had several agencies who didn’t have anybody there because they weren’t allowed to come. We had people who came and couldn’t talk. And this is just plain flat-out wrong,’ he told Â鶹´«Ã½.
The assembled scientists formally condemned the restrictions at the end of the meeting. Informally, some researchers expressed an underlying concern that, without all the facts in hand, a complete picture of what happened to Prince William Sound may never be drawn. Others fear that even if all the information becomes available, it may never be knitted together properly. And without the normal checks and balances of science, they believe important questions may not be asked and shaky data may not be challenged.
Herman Griese, a game biologist with the ADF&G, described his presentation on research needs in area of terrestrial mammals as ‘part of the litigation-sensitive process’. In reply to a question after his presentation on the effect of the spill on deer and other hoofed mammals, he replied: ‘Even if I knew what was going on, I wouldn’t be able to divulge that information.’
Another scientist working with the ADF&G, Don Calkins, introducing a discussion of the impact on seals and sea lions, told the scientists that ‘I do have lawyers at my elbow and they’re cautioning me to be careful about what I say.’ A colleague working on the impact of the spill on fish embryos reported that her survey results were ‘tied up in litigation’.
Such statements brought sharp reactions from other individuals attending the meeting. In response to Griese’s comments, for example, Jacqueline Michel of RPI International in South Carolina, who is acting as a consultant to the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration, called for a group condemnation of the gag orders. ‘The limitation of data, because it’s litigation sensitive, is totally unacceptable,’ she said.
Others spoke of the advantage of having research funding that was not tied to the damage-assessment process. Duane Gill of the University of South Alabama, introducing a talk on the social impacts of the spill, brought applause when he told the audience that ‘unlike some other people who have presented throughout this conference, I have data which lawyers can’t control’.
Allen Smith of the Wilderness Society adds: ‘There are a lot of creative minds around that could contribute, but unless you’re on the actual damage assessment team, you’re not part of the process. The question is, did we forego the opportunity to develop an even better assessment (of the impact of the spill) by not having a greater flow of information and interplay in the scientific community as a whole?’
Smith adds that public-interest organisations, such as the Wilderness Society, rely on scientists for much of the information that they use to assess environmental issues and to formulate recommendations for public policy. The gagging of scientists has made it difficult for nongovernmental organisations and the public to find out what is known about the effects of the Exxon Valdez spill.
It is impossible to estimate how long investigators will remain muzzled, simply because no one knows how long the legal process will take. No ‘evidence’ about the extent of damage will be released before it is presented in court, and no dates have yet been set.
In fact, Exxon was not even indicted in the federal district court until last month, and Baily reports that the state has just begun the very preliminary discovery phase of litigation. The proceedings could easily drag on for years. After the Amoco Cadiz spill off the coast of Brittany in 1978, it took 10 years before a federal district court in Chicago ordered the American company Amoco to pay out $85.2 million in damages.
Finally, there is the possibility that the data may never see the light of day. While so far it has not succeeded, Exxon has already attempted to reach out-of-court settlements with the state and federal governments. In such cases it is common practice for the court to ‘seal’ sensitive information permanently, thereby keeping it from all but the litigants, as part of the agreement.
It would be a travesty were this to happen with the Alaska spill, said Smith, ‘because then you won’t have the ability for a broad range of scientists to get access to that information to develop models of what did happen, what didn’t happen, what kind of new research we need. And the decision makers don’t get to see the full range of damage as it relates to how they may want to change legislation or regulation.
There is no easy answer to the problem. Unhappy, but pragmatic, researchers acknowledge the need for lawsuits and lawyers but decry the impact they are having on scientific inquiry. Meanwhile, an oil spill joke is making the rounds: Question: What do you call 500 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean? Answer: A good start.
WHEN EXXON’S oil cleanup crews hit the beaches of Alaska again next May, they will not be carrying the heavily pressurised water hoses and pumps which played a central role in last summer’s efforts. This time, they will be divided into small teams carrying hand tools, rubbish sacks and bags of fertiliser.
The crews will be following guidelines for the second year of the cleanup which have been drawn up by the US National Oceanographical and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), based on data gathered over the winter by state, federal and Exxon scientists. Jacqueline Michel, an oil spill expert with RPI International in Columbia, South Carolina, who is working as a consultant to NOAA, says scientists monitored changes in the amount of oil on the shoreline and the seepage of oil below the surface of the beaches.
In addition, laboratory analyses were carried out to determine the chemical changes in the oil resulting from exposure to waves, tides and storms. The laboratory work also helped to determine the ‘bioavailability’, or toxicity, of oil remaining on the beaches, explains Michel.
According to the NOAA report, ‘natural cleansing’ of the shoreline is proceeding at a significant rate in areas exposed to wind, rain and tides. With the exception of oil stains on the rocks and gravel and thin patches of viscous oil, these areas look relatively clean. More sheltered beaches, however, are still covered by thick, black ‘tar mats’ and oiled vegetation. Many beaches are also littered with rubbish left by last summer’s 10,000-member cleanup crew.
Although the surface of roughly 60 per cent of the contaminated coastline now appears relatively clean, oil has penetrated to depths of 15 to 60 centimetres below the surface of gravelly beaches. In contrast, the hard-packed consistency of sandy shores has largely prevented the reworking of the surface and the consequent pooling of oil beneath the surface.
Chemical analysis of sediment indicates that the most toxic components of the crude oil, lightweight aromatic hydrocarbons such as benzene and toluene, have virtually disappeared. This is mainly due to evaporation, the action of naturally occurring bacteria that eat oil, and exposure to sunlight. The pools of sub-surface oil show much less degradation, according to the NOAA report.
Given current conditions, the scientists from NOAA want this spring’s cleanup to focus on the more heavily oiled and sheltered areas. To prevent further disturbance of fish hatcheries, of the fishing industry and of the recovering ecosystem, they call for the use of small work parties. Members of these groups will pick up debris, remove tar mats, and manually ’till’ sandy beaches to enhance the rate at which oil beneath the surface is broken down. ‘It won’t be good for employment, but it will be good for the environment to have small crews going through once, maybe twice, and that’s it,’ Michel said last week.
The NOAA report also recommends that workers apply phosphorus and nitrogen-rich fertiliser to beaches that are still badly soiled. Trials of such ‘bioremediation’ which were started last June by the US Environmental Protection Agency demonstrate that application of the appropriate fertiliser speeds up degradation by encouraging the growth of indigenous microorganisms that are able to consume oil.
Both the US Coast Guard and Exxon hope that this will be the last year of formal cleanup activities. Further ‘polishing’ of the shorelines can be included in the ‘restoration’ project currently being developed by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game. But the question remains: Can the oil-soaked sound return to pre-spill conditions? ‘I don’t think Prince William Sound will ever be the same,’ says Michel.
