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Louisiana revival: Eco-engineering on a giant scale

The bays and bayous of coastal Louisiana were in trouble even before the Deepwater Horizon disaster. How far should we go to return them to their former glory?

Teeming with life, the Mississippi's marshes could all look like this
Teeming with life, the Mississippi’s marshes could all look like this
(Image: James P. Blair/NGS)
Grand plans for eco-engineering
Grand plans for eco-engineering

Editorial: Biodiversity trumps ā€˜nature’ in the Gulf

The bays and bayous of coastal Louisiana were in trouble even before the Deepwater Horizon disaster. How far should we go to return them to their former glory?

STANDING knee-deep in the waters of Bay Jimmy in south-eastern Louisiana, Daniel Deocampo pours a bucket of clay mixed with seawater into the marsh. Oil swirls around our legs and the air reeks of burnt petroleum. With oil from BP’s Deepwater Horizon spill sitting in the bay, the burning question is – remove the oil or wait for nature to take its course?

R. Eugene Turner, a coastal ecologist at Louisiana State University (LSU) in Baton Rouge, says that interfering with nature could backfire. Even just wiping oil off leaves, he says, spreads the toxic residue around. But Deocampo, a sedimentary geochemist at , Atlanta, and his colleague Kuk-Jeong Chin say leaving the oil will doom the marsh, and are testing ways to give oil-munching bacteria a turboboost. ā€œIf we do nothing, all the plants will die,ā€ Chin says. ā€œNature will take too long.ā€

ā€œLeaving the oil will doom the marshes, if we do nothing the plants will die. Nature will take too longā€

The disagreement underscores a debate that has been raging over marsh restoration for decades. Even before the spill, the marshes were disappearing at an alarming rate – the consequence of the dams, levees and canals built to provide shipping channels and protect New Orleans from flooding. Without intervention Louisiana’s bayous could become open water within 50 years.

As a result, support has been growing for a suite of projects to resurrect the marshes (see map). At one end of the spectrum are those who advocate minimal intervention and letting nature take its course. At the other, the call is for yet more engineering: new, hardier breeds of grasses, seeding from the air and artificial reefs to shore up the sinking sediment.

Ultimately, the marshes are vanishing because sediment is in short supply. Wind and waves constantly erode the shoreline, and dams and levees hold back sediment flowing down the Mississippi. What’s more, a network of canals dredged by the oil and gas industry carry saltwater inland, killing freshwater marshes. Add to all this rising sea levels and the largest oil spill in US history and the situation is desperate. Without its marshes, Louisiana’s thriving seafood industry would crumble and the state’s coast would lose its natural defences against the powerful storms that blow in from the Gulf of Mexico.

Turner advocates small-scale intervention: filling in thousands of kilometres of abandoned canals with the dredged sediment that is still piled up alongside them. He also favours helping sediment flow to the marshes. Historically, when the Mississippi’s waters ran high, ā€œcrevassesā€ appeared in the river banks and carried sediment into the deltas. Dams and levees now prevent this, so Turner suggests punching holes in the river’s embankment to spur the process. ā€œSo many marsh restoration ideas assume we can do better than nature,ā€ says Turner. ā€œI think that’s pretty arrogant.ā€

Others say we need to think big. ā€œOver the years, we’ve done all kinds of patchwork projects,ā€ says Harry Roberts, a retired sedimentary geologist at LSU. ā€œThey’re not long-term solutions.ā€ Roberts has calculated that 18 to 24 billion tonnes of sediment will be needed to maintain the delta as the sea level rises in the next century (Nature Geoscience, ). Small crevasses can never meet that demand, he says.

For researchers like Roberts the question has become not how to restore Louisiana’s lost Eden but how to create a new, improved one. As part of that, in April, a to pipe mud more than 6 kilometres from Cote Blanche Bay to Vermilion Bay’s Marsh Island Wildlife Refuge. The aim is to recreate 160 hectares of marsh.

Once the soil is in place, you need grasses – and not just any grasses. Two decades ago, Michael Materne, a wetland plant specialist at , collected varieties of the native smooth cord grass (Spartina alterniflora) from across the US, searching for the hardiest ones. Today, Materne’s Vermilion variety, named after the Louisiana parish it originated in, is the only one used in re-vegetation projects. To increase genetic diversity in the restored ecosystems, it will be joined next year by up to six more varieties that he has cross-bred.

Materne’s grasses may be the hardiest available, but they suffer from one flaw. Like wild varieties, what little seed they produce is fragile and slow to germinate. They must be planted by hand, a slow process during which grasses can be trampled and wrecked.

Materne’s colleague Herry Utomo may have the solution. He has cross-bred seeds from 126 cord grasses to produce 15 varieties with hardy seeds. Early next year, he will shower them over Marsh Island from a plane.

Further inland, AgCenter researchers are testing ways of restoring freshwater marshes. Artificial floating platforms are being planted with freshwater maidencane (Panicum hemitomon) to mimic the thick floating mats of vegetation that used to cover the area.

And beneath the water’s surface, more changes are afoot. Compacting, sinking sea floors mean that natural reefs made of dead oyster shells – which would normally lie just beneath the surface – have effectively drowned. Steven Hall and his colleagues have devised building blocks for artificial reefs made of cement, limestone rock and oyster shells. These raise the bed of the estuary in chosen locations and offer a new home for oysters to colonise. Each doughnut-shaped block is 1.5 metres across and is stripped of the sand grains that would normally fill pores in the building material. This allows water to move through the reef as it would in nature.

Hall’s patented Oysterbreak is being tested in estuaries as a way of creating new habitats and reducing wave energy. When he tested it in a wave tank in 2007, it reduced wave energy by 70 per cent – enough to protect marshes and coastal regions from strong waves during storms. He has now been awarded a $3.8 million federal grant to test an artificial reef, several kilometres long, in the wild, alongside the Rockefeller Wildlife Refuge. Work should begin by spring of next year.

ā€œOysterbreaks create homes for oysters and protect marshes from high waves during stormsā€

In Bay Jimmy, Deocampo and Chin hope to find gentler ways to help nature recover from disastrous oil spills. They are replicating a Spanish experiment from the 2002 Prestige oil spill, in which researchers collected contaminated soil samples and added clay to half of them. After three years, 90 per cent of the oil in the clay samples had broken down compared to just 30 per cent in the control samples. They think the electrostatic charge of the clay may bind both the oil and the microbes, bringing them together.

Even if their experiments are successful, the clay fix is unlikely to be deployed on a large scale in Louisiana. Throughout the clean-up, the US Environmental Protection Agency’s policy has been to let nature do its thing. By the time the results come in, it will be too late to change this. But the pair hope they can prove that engineering solutions can work without harming ecosystems. If they succeed, it could change policies for the next big spill. From coastal restoration to oil remediation, Louisiana’s bayous have become a testing ground to figure out who knows best – science or nature.

Update, 7 October 2010: Louisiana state has . Dredging for the initial 56-kilometre berms continues.

Berms banish oil but break up habitats

Engineering the Gulf’s ecosystem is both an awesome and terrifying possibility. In some respects, this summer’s events show caution is warranted. Following the Deepwater Horizon spill, Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal pushed hard for the construction of sand berms to shield the barrier islands from oil. On 27 May, the Army Corps of Engineers authorised an emergency permit to construct six sand berms along 56 kilometres of shoreline despite strong opposition from scientists, berms disrupt sediment flow and destroy habitat. State officials have now applied for an extended permit to build an additional 100 kilometres. The goal is to convert the berms into permanent barrier island restoration projects.

With the new permit pending, the corps has been inundated with letters of protest. Those who wrote in, including the Environmental Protection Agency, the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries, and Louisiana State University, point out that berms stop sediment from rebuilding eroding marsh shorelines,and fragment endangered and threatened fish and turtle habitats. Nor is it clear that the initial $360 million endeavour can withstand storms.

Restraint may not be sexy and will probably not garner votes, but the rule of thumb must be ā€œdo no harmā€, says R. Eugene Turner of Louisiana State University.

Topics: Climate change / Deepwater Horizon / Ecology / Environment / Oil / Pollution