Watershed protection guide (Page 1 of 3)
Take action to protect the watershed near your home with these steps
By Anne Casselman
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| Photo: Sheena Golden |
Think Canada, and you think water. More than two
million lakes and one-fifth of the world’s fresh water lie within
our borders — our pockmarked landscape was practically
purpose built by retreating glaciers to pool water. Now forget
all that. The number you need to remember is 6.5 percent.
That’s the amount of the world’s renewable fresh water we have at our
disposal (not an awful lot, considering our land mass). The supply is only
2.6 percent in southern Canada. Use more, and we risk gnawing away at our
water capital — draining our aquifers and lakes rather than living sustainably
and using the water that precipitation replenishes each year. So Canada’s
water wealth? A myth. That’s why it’s critical for us to safeguard our waterways,
to ensure they’re managed well. In the face of climate change, a global
water crisis, rising energy demands and urbanization, our water resources don’t
just become more valuable. They desperately need our help.
1. GET YOUR HANDS WET — AND DIRTY
“I was walking down the creek and counting the dead,” recounts Paul Cipywnyk,
president of the Byrne Creek Streamkeepers Society in Burnaby, B.C. “You saw these
beautiful little fish alive days before, and then they’re all gone.” A fish kill in March 2010
decimated the coho salmon smolts and fry in Byrne Creek, one of Burnaby’s half dozen
remaining salmon-bearing streams. The culprit: someone had washed a pollutant down
a storm drain. “We like to joke with locals and say, ‘Hey, you guys all live on waterfront
property,’ because the streets drain into the creek,” says Cipywnyk. Levity aside, the
best way for people to connect the dots is to get off the couch and into the creek bed.
“You have to get outdoors,” he says, “to understand how
your watershed works.”
Cipywnyk, a self-described “accidental environmentalist,”
is a testament to the charisma of nature. When he and his
wife moved into their Burnaby townhouse 10 years ago, they
had no idea that a creek even ran 25 metres beyond their
back door. “We saw our first spawning salmon that fall and
were absolutely enthralled,” he says. Cipywnyk joined the
Streamkeepers that year. “There’s this sense of camaraderie
that develops out of sweat equity. When you pull together
on something, your vested interest increases dramatically.
It becomes our creek, my creek.”
“When you are out there overturning logs and pulling
garbage out of streams, you really see what’s going on,” says
John Werring, an aquatic biologist with the David Suzuki
Foundation in Vancouver. Of the Fraser Valley’s 779 creeks
and streams, 117 have been lost altogether and many of the
rest suffer habitat degradation and pollution. It’s a tale of
loss echoed across the country. “We need more people out
there,” says Werring. “That’s absolutely critical.”
2. HELLO, CLASS: I’LL BE YOUR WATERSHED THIS TERM
On the shore of a beaver pond that feeds a tributary of New Brunswick’s Saint John River
lies a watertight ammunitions box containing a pamphlet about the watershed written by
students, along with three rubber whales and some fish stickers. It’s one of four geocaches
stashed by the Outdoor Pursuits class of Saint John High School as part of Environment
Canada’s nationwide Geocache Your Watershed project.
“There are so few opportunities for children and young people to get outdoors,” says
Bill Mahaffy, who teaches the class. “It just makes things more real to them.” One of his class’s
geocaches is near an osprey nest. From another, his students
can catch a glimpse of a beaver, if they’re quiet. Mahaffy has
found that getting students outside is a shortcut to fostering
their conservation values. “If it’s part of your life’s experience,
you take it into your heart and say this is important.”