Silt’s Stifling Chokehold Loosening in Upper Bay

On the upper reaches of one of California’s last surviving coastal wetlands, hulking earthmovers prowl like dinosaurs, gouging deep channels into wet silt.

The sight of these mechanical monsters crisscrossing the pocked landscape with tons of dirt in their maws has raised fears that at last development would spoil the 10-year-old ecological reserve.

One ardent bird watcher nearly careened off Jamboree Road recently at the sight, threw up his hands and said: “That’s it! They’ve finally done it! They’re going to turn it into houses and shopping malls like everything else around here.”

This time, at least, appearances are deceiving.

Response to Queries

“Upper Newport Bay is NOT being subdivided,” state Sen. Marian Bergeson (R-Newport Beach) said in a press release last week, responding to a flood of queries to her office about the grading.

In fact, the excavation is the second of a three phases of work to remove more than 1.5 million cubic yards of silt now choking off the life of the 752-acre reserve, considered the most important coastal wetland between Morro Bay and Baja California.

The operation is a $3.7-million joint state and local project to remove 840,000 cubic yards of silt deposited over the last 15 years in the uppermost 85 acres.

When completed this fall, the project is expected to restore the vital cleansing function of the upper basin and may even improve water quality in the upper and lower bays.

“It isn’t pretty and it hurts a little bit, but it’ll get better soon,” said conservationist Frank Robinson, a retired Newport Beach aerospace engineer who, with his wife, Frances, led the charge to halt development and create the wildlife sanctuary.

Protected by towering bluffs carved out by erosion in the Pleistocene Age, Upper Newport Bay is an island of serenity surrounded by homes, office buildings and highways.

Not even the roar of passenger jets surging skyward from nearby John Wayne Airport seems to penetrate the calm.

As moist sea breezes ripple across the green carpets of cord-grass that mark the marshes, clusters of long-billed curlews, black-bellied plovers, western sandpipers, willets and dowitchers scud along broad mud flats exposed at low tide in search of morsels of marine life.

Great blue herons stalk larger prey in shallow waters, as a snowy egret flaps its wings in an elaborate dance to frighten away another male.

In deeper water, a large striped mullet leaps at insects hovering above the glistening surface, and a pied-billed grebe dives for smaller pickings.

Overhead, red-tailed hawks and turkey vultures circle endlessly, while cottontails, western harvest mice and the secretive California vole seek shelter in burrows.

Haven for Many Species

Upper Newport Bay is a haven for more than 112 species of birds, mammals and reptiles, and a vital marine spawning ground.

It is home to more than half of the state’s remaining population of the light-footed clapper rail, an endangered species whose forward-tilting walk resembles that of Groucho Marx. About 200 pairs of the endangered Belding’s savannah sparrow live and forage in the abundant pickleweed.

The quiet waters, where salt and fresh water mingle to create six distinct types of wetlands habitat, also provide a Southern California stopping point for “upwards of a million shorebirds annually,” said wildlife biologist Carl Wilcox, who has managed the reserve for the state Department of Fish and Game for the last five years.

But as sediment borne down the San Diego Creek has filled the bay, Wilcox said, vital deep-water areas and tidal mud flats have given way to more and more salt marsh.

‘Not Good for Fishery’

“That is not good for the fishery of this bay or the tens of thousands of shore birds that depend on these mud flats,” Wilcox said as he surveyed the excavation area.

Without the feeding grounds, Wilcox said, many migratory birds might not be able to make their winter trek south.

Some think the clogging action of the silt also may be partly to blame for the deteriorating water quality in the upper and lower bays, which have been put off limits to swimmers for years because of high bacteria counts.

Shellfish and other small marine life tested have alarming amounts of dangerous chemicals, including DDT and cancer-causing PCBs, a commonly used insulating material.

“The upper bay acted sort of like the lungs of the entire bay, and over the last two decades, we’ve lost that as silt filled it up,” said Frank Robinson, a founding member of Friends of Newport Bay.

Extensive Drainage

“You have to realize, we are draining 150 square miles of industrialized Orange County and the detritus of one million people and the Irvine industrial complex into this bay,” Robinson said.

The siltation problem is generally considered to have begun with a massive storm in 1969. Rainwater and debris gushing downstream destroyed a broad dike at the old saltworks plant, where excavation is now taking place.

Without the natural barrier to hold it, silt spewed forth.

But the source of the problem dates back further, to the early 1960s, according to engineering consultant Don Simpson, who manages the restoration efforts for a committee of state and local agencies spearheading the cleanup.

When the Irvine Co. and other developers started building on the natural flood plain, Simpson said, the County of Orange embarked on a major improvement of flood control channels and washes to funnel storm waters off the land and into the San Diego Creek watershed.

Creek’s Different Action

Next, the San Diego Creek, which used to spread its water and silt on a broad marsh behind the San Joaquin Dam northeast of the bay, was widened and connected to the Upper Newport Bay.

Studies show that an average of 50,000 cubic yards of sediment is carried to the bay each year from construction sites, agricultural lands and undeveloped areas ranging back to the Santiago peaks.

“In effect, those improvements turned the flood control system into a giant fire hose,” said Robinson, who challenged a land swap between the county and the Irvine Co. that would have turned the back bay into a major marina and housing development worth an estimated $1.4 billion.

During years of court skirmishes in the early 1970s, the silt continued its downstream migration. When the state purchased the land at a cost of $3.48 million from the county’s largest landowner, no one at state Fish and Game had any idea how to deal with the siltation problem.

Plan of Action Developed

But after years of exhaustive studies, hand-wringing and finger-pointing between developers, state, county and city officials, a plan of action was developed.

The first stage, known as the early action plan, dredged out 490,000 cubic yards of silt and created three catch basins, two north of Jamboree Road and one in the current excavation area, to trap future debris. The price tag was $3.2 million, shared by the state, Newport Beach, Irvine, the county and the Irvine Co. Unfortunately, those basins were half filled by the raging storms of 1983--within a year after they were completed.

The second phase--referred to as Unit 1--will clear out much of that debris and will also dig out the entire area that was once the saltworks to a maximum depth of 15 feet at a cost of $3.5 million.

The third phase--Unit 2--for which Sen. Bergeson managed to get state funding last spring over the objections of the state legislative analyst, will involve underwater dredging of a slightly smaller area--550,000 cubic yards--immediately downstream at a cost of $3.7 million.

Dredging Project Plan

Simpson said planning is nearly complete for the dredging project, which he hopes can get under way by next spring.

Beyond that, local governments and the Irvine Co. have committed to spending another $1 million to build one or more additional upstream catch basins.

Wilcox said that by the time the entire restoration project is completed, $13 million or more will have been spent, making Upper Newport Bay one of the costliest projects in the history of the state Fish and Game Department.

Periodic dredging will also be required in the area now being excavated. But Wilcox said he hopes the silt removal can be done every three to five years to minimize the disruption to wildlife.

“It’s a man-made problem,” said Peter Drummond, president of the Dover Shores Homeowners Assn., a waterfront development of 310 households on or overlooking the lower end of the preserve.

Association’s Role

“What is being attempted here is a man-made solution to prevent this whole bay from filling up,” said Drummond, whose association is paying about $600,000 to dredge silt clogging their docks and two private channels.

“I’m enthused about it,” said Drummond, who hopes the projects will alleviate their sediment problems.

“But I’m a little concerned they won’t have it all out before the rains.”

He is not alone.

Crews for the contractor, Valley Engineers Inc. of Fresno, have been working feverishly since last spring to excavate the clay material and deposit it on Irvine Co. property on the opposite side of Jamboree Road.

Work had fallen behind because moist coastal air has slowed drying of the highly water-absorbent clay earth, which must be completely dry before it can be left on the Irvine Co. plot. So project manager Don Glanville had backhoes turning over huge hillocks of dirt on site to accelerate the drying process.

And Then a Walkout

But if it isn’t one thing, it’s another, Glanville was learning. Last week, crews walked off the job, joining the a union of operating engineers in a labor action against contractors around the state.

Glanville sighed with relief Friday morning when operators returned to the job. But he was planning soon to triple the number of trucks hauling dirt from seven to 21.

“Our contract allows us to go until February,” Glanville said. “But for a practical matter, we need to finish before the rains or we’ll never get this stuff out of here.”