A stateparks ranger patrols thecrowded beach at Twanoh State Park.

Nearly half a million people visit thepark near Union each year.

Thesun tints the beach as it rises

red from an August haze atTwanoh State Park. A lone man

and his leashed dog leave tracksin the rough gravel just below thehigh tide line. Soon, others amble

down to the beach to stretch and watch the

midweek morning paint pockets of snowpink on the Olympic Mountains to the west.Most people visiting Twanoh's beach at thishour come from the park's tiny campgroundacross Highway 106.

Forty-seven camp spots are available atTwanoh, Hood Canal's finest public beach. Itis a rare August day that the campgroundisn't full, even if it rains.

But campers won't erase the earlytracks from the beach. By day's end, as manyas 4,000 people will visit Twanoh to splashor swim or sunburn. Their tracks will

obliterate those of the dawn visitors.

A city larger than Seattle settles on the

public beaches around Hood Canal everyyear. In July 1990alone, more than 130,000people enjoyed Twanoh's beach. Only aboutone in every 36 of those people camps at thepark.

Visitors to the seven state parks aroundthe canal bring their boats and fishing poles,their water skis and water wings. They bringvacation cheer and the emerald water works

its magic upon them.When many of these nearly two

million people go home at the end of thesummer, they may think they leave HoodCanal just as they found it. Their tons oftrash have been properly disposed, theirsewage treated. They are conscientiousvisitors, for the most part.

But heavy recreational use takes its tollon these glorious waters. Some bays in thecanal record huge increases in bacterialcontamination during weeks of heavyrecreational use.

•155*

Chapter

10

Recreation

Section 1

When

Beaches Host

Millions

By Seabury Blair Jr.

156 • Using the Resource

It is a rare

August daythat the 47

camp spotsavailable at

Twanoh State

Park, HoodCanal's finestpublic beach,

aren'tfull, evenif it rains.

Nobody is certain how many morepeople can enjoy the canal without killingit.What is certain: those who enjoy the canaltoday are eager to preserve it for theirchildren tomorrow.

"I'm not an ecology nut, but I dobelieve in keeping things for future generations. I believe we need to take the stepsnecessary now to keep thisplace for the people whofollow," says Chuck Stuart, a72-year-old Bremertonresident who has been

visiting Twanoh for morethan a half century.

Stuart and his wife,Marie, sat by their campfireat Twanoh as three generations of the family stopped totalk. The afternoon sun

burned through clouds andbegan warming the beachacross the road. Children's

shouts drifted from the beach

to the quieter campground."I think it's the old-

timers who want to see this

place preserved," said MarieStuart.

Stuarfs sons, Jim andJohn, and daughter, BethSchmidt, recall visitingTwanoh every year whenthey were growing up inBremerton. Now they gatherevery August for a familycamp-out. They stay in thesame spot every year.

"If there's somebodyhere," jokes Jim Stuart, "we throw 'em out."

The Stuarts agree that public beacheslike Twanoh are vital to building a consensusof canal savers. They fall in love with theplace; they want to keep it lovely.

"This is our only shot," says Jim Stuart,indicating the green campground with itswhispering creek. "People like us will neverbe able to afford waterfront along the canal."

'Thafs why we have to preserve this,"says his father.

Families like the Stuarts can be found

camping every year at all of the canal's stateparks: Shine Tidelands, Dosewallips,Potlatch, Belfair,Scenic Beach and KitsapMemorial. Children grow up there and bringtheir children to grow up there.

Al Giersch, who served 10years as

manager at Dosewallips State Park and nowworks at Fort Ragler State Park, says mostcampers at Dosewallips came there to stay.

"We had to be one of the busiest

campgrounds in the state. Senior citizenswould come to stay in the winter and wehad massiveattendance around May, whenpeople came to shrimp."

Jerry Rice,manager atKitsap Memorial State Park,says most of the camperswho stop there are probablyon their way to the OlympicPeninsula. "But we're

becoming more of a destination camp," he said.

At Twanoh, however,what is happening across theroad from the campgroundmay be more important tothe canal's future. The beach

draws scores of canal savers.

Last year, 1.98 millionpeople visited state parks onthe canal, according to theWashington State Parks andRecreation Commission's

annual report. Only 135,236stayed overnight.

Perhaps 100 sunbathersare on the beach by 2 p.m. asTwanoh Park Ranger LarryOtto makes a sweep throughthe main parking lot. Compared to a weekend crowd,he says, the park is empty.

"I've seen good yearsand bad years, as far ascrowds go," says Otto, a

Bremerton native. "I know that the last three

weekends, the whole park has been close tototal gridlock."

He posted "LOT FULL" signs at allthree entrances, and cars lined up along thehighway. As soon as one day visitor pulledout, it seemed, three cars pulled in.

The incoming tide warms itself on thegravel, so that by 5 p.m., perhaps 400swimmers at Twanoh splash in the warmestwater of the day. On the weekend, Otto says,easily 10 times that number might enjoy theday-use area.

Nearly a half-million people — 469,431— stayed a day at Twanoh in 1989. Almostall visited between April 15 and Sept. 30. The180-acre park sustains greater day use thanany other public area on Hood Canal.

Twanoh StatePark

There are times inthe sunny summer

months whenTwanoh State Park

beach iswall-to-wall people

and thecampground is

filledWednesdayfor the next

weekend.

Almost 20,000 more visitors stopped atTwanoh than at Potlatch, the second mostpopular of the canal parks for day visitors.

In fact,Twanoh ranked 20th among thestate's 144parks in daytime attendance in1989. Otto is pleased that his park's bigcrowds don't bring big problems.

"When I first came here (12years ago),we seemed to have a lot of younger kids, andthey created some problems. But we are afamily-oriented park, and we don't have alot of problems. There just isn't muchvandalism at all.

"We had a couple of professors fromCalifornia last week. They came specificallyto this park so they could play on their

A Community of Familiar Faces

George and Maryjane Beckerstartedcamping at Twanoh State Park in atent 40 years ago. Today Becker is

Twanoh's volunteer "campground host."He registers campers and helps the

ranger and manager around the campground.

Beckersays Twanoh has changedsince he first visited. "When I first campedin here, there were stumps everywhere.And the road was dirt. The roads weren't

paved until '74 or '75. Of course, ifsgotten a whole lot more crowded, too."

"It seems like most campers herecome from Seattle,Tacoma or Olympia,"he says of the people who come to thisunique fjord to play. "We get groups fromOregon and Idaho who come over in thespring for shrimp season."

Families choose Twanoh as a

destination, says Becker. They aren'tcampers who stop there on the way to theOlympic Peninsula.

'The kids are well-entertained here.There's a lot for them to do. Thafs whyfamilies come here. Ifs pretty safe here,normally."

Not unlike the salmon that annuallyreturn to spawn in Twanoh's tiny creek,familiesannually return to the park tocamp. "You meet a lot of people and some

sailboards on Hood Canal. They've comehere for years and years," he said.

'To me, that says something. You seethe same people every year. It's like gettingto be a family. And they take this park on astheir own personal area, and they don't wantto mess it up."

Sunset is as spectacular as sunrise atTwanoh. The Olympics turn purple whilethe sky burns. The day area closes at dusk, socampers are often the only witnesses tonature's finest fireworks.

The camper and his dog return for anevening walk. The dawn tide will erase theirtracks, but visitors will make more tomorrow.

of them get to be good friends," says thecampground host.

While weekends are still busiest,Beckersays the pace of the campground ispicking up during the week.

"A lot of times, it can be raining, andI'll still have campers corning in. Ifscrowded all the time, but pretty nearevery weekend, you're going to have toturn people away. There's always somethat don't believe the 'Campground Full'sign."

When the campground is full,Beckersays he sends campers to BelfairorPotlatch state parks, the closest publiccampground alternatives on Hood Canal.

"We'll try to send them to Manchester, but they don't want to leave the canal.They'll go there if ifs the only place togo-"

When the campground and mostother activities at Twanoh closes for

winter, Becker moves to Belfair State Parkon the other side of the canal to serve as

the host there. But he tries to find time in

the winter to take the 12-mile drive from

Beifair to Twanoh.

"We come out to watch the salmon

run. Thafs all us old folks have to do in

the winter."

BySeabury Blair Jr.

Recreation *157

A city largerthan Seattle

settles on the

public beachesaround Hood

Canal everyyear. InJuly1990 alone,more than

130,000peopleenjoyed

Twanoh's

beach.

158 • Using the Resource

Section 2

A Long

History

ASA

Recreation

Spot

By Seabury Blair Jr.

It |h^^ oc" Eddy's Rose Pointm I ^^ Resort is gone from* I • Hood Canal, but the

I • spirit ofthe place livesI M on at motels and resorts^m^^ from Quilcene toBelfair.

"It was mostly loggers and trappers,"says Virginia Trammell, the late Doc Eddy's65-year-old daughter. "They came out tohave fun, and that's why people come out tothe canal today."

Sixty years ago, Trammell moved outto the resort and 400acres of prime HoodCanal real estate her father purchased for$25,000. Remnants of a once-grand lodge,above Lynch Cove three miles west of Belfairon the South Shore, is all that is left.

But in 1929, Rose Point Resort was ahot spot for residents from Bremerton,Seattle and Tacoma.

"In those early days," she said, "loggers from nearby camps on the canal wouldget down here any way they could to let offsteam."

Timber that will never again grow astall was falling everywhere along the canal.The men who were cutting and moving thetrees to mills were a rugged breed.

"I remember stories Dad told that were

told to him:Therewere wild and woollyfights and war-whooping on those weekends. It was about the only outlet for thepeople who worked in the woods.

"I remember one year, a loggerbrought in a bear cub. Everybody fed it andit grew up pretty fast. It got out of its cageand here was this lady getting a bathing suiton in her room and in walks this youngbear."

The bear was invited to leave shortlythereafter.

Early photos show a resort signadvertising "fine fishing, sandy bathingbeach,cabins, tents, boats, catering to familypicnics and outings."

"There were so few people out herethen," says Trammell, who resides in Belfairbut owns a lot at the resort site. The countrywas in the midst of the Great Depression;resort rent took different forms. Tents rented

for 50cents a night. But Dad would let a lotof the loggers and trappers pay with venisonor ducks instead of rent." .

The resort operated until 1941,whenWorld War II brought gas rationing and thecountry was in no mood for recreation. In1943, several feet of snow collapsed the roofof the lodge.

That was the beginning of the end forthe Rose Point Resort. But now, as then, themyriad of recreational opportunities alongthe canal attract growing numbers of people.Trammell believes they will be either thesalvation or the death of the spectacularfjord.

She is sorry to see Hood Canal socrowded, but happy so many can enjoy itsbeauty.

"When I grew up, the nearest neighborwas more than a mile away. Now thepopulation is so wall-to-wall. My dad alwaysused to say 25 years from now, it would be

like this. Boy,was he right. It's changed.There are so many more people here, bless'em. They love it and we do, too. But it reallydoes affect everything."

She talks of a day in the not-too-distantfuture, a day when sewers will be necessaryalong the canal. She thinks people will bemore than willing to pay for it.

"If we don't pay for it, it will kill thecanal. If we don't look at the big picture,we'll just be down the tube. People whodon't think about it aren't looking beyondtoday. We have to think about it. I hope toheaven it's not too late now."

Recreation • 159

"In those earlydays, loggersfrom nearbycamps on thecanal would

get down hereany way theycould to let off

steam."

—VirginiaTrammell

160 • Using the Resource

Section 3

Business

Follows the

Mercury

By Travis Baker

ForBob and Anne Hart at the

Hoodsport Grocery, septic tanksare good omen. "Whenever yousee a septic tank go by and up thathill," said Hart, "that's newbusiness."

Up that hill is Lake Cushman, a 3,000-lot recreational development that is thelifeblood of the Hoodsport business community in Mr. Hart's view. He estimates thattwo-thirds of his increased business in the

summer is from summer residents. The rest

is from tourists passing through.And a septic tank bound for Cushman

means another lot owner has decided to

invest money in a residence there — andprobably time and shopping dollars in thefuture.

Like nearly everyone on the canal, the

Small, independent retailers are therulearound HoodCanal, and many depend on thesummer tourist season forthehulkof theirannual sales.

Harts see business swell in the summer,tripling that of winter. "It's not unusual to doas much on a three-day weekend as thewhole month of January," he said.

The end of the hot selling season variesfrom business to business, but for Hart, it'sLabor Day. "It chops in half the day after andgoes downhill from there."

In this statistics-laden society, there isremarkably little hard data on the economicimpact of tourism and recreation alongHood Canal.

There is a widespread assumption thatpopulation along the canal triples during thesummer, but proof of that figure is hard tocome by. Public Utility District No. 1 inMason County, which provides electricityfrom near Alderbrook Inn at Union to the

Jefferson County line, provides as firm an

indication of the impact of summer residentson the area's population as exists.

Debbie Knipshield, manager of thePUD,said 41 percent of its 3,864customersare seasonal or recreational, denotingresidence there 180days or less per year. ThePUD gets about four new customers a monthin the winter, twice that in the summer, shesaid. Alderbrook Inn is its

biggest customer.Pat McGary with PUD

No. 3, whose coverage areaincludes Lake Cushman and

the canal's South Shore from

near Alderbrook to Belfair,said about 30 percent of itscustomers are sent bills at

addresses away from HoodCanal. A greater percentageused to be seasonal, he said.

The Mason CountyTourist Center near Shelton

keeps careful track of wherethe tourists and information

seekers who stop there havecome from. June's total of1,982 was five timesJanuary's number of stops,which totaled 390.

The state's traffic

counts at the Hood Canal

floating bridge and whereHighway 101 intersectsHighway 20 near DiscoveryBayprovide an indication of what tourismand summer residents mean on the roads.

Trafficat both places doubles in warmweather.

Ron Bergt of the state Department ofTransportation says there were 7,505crossings of the bridge in January 1989comparedto 14,148 in August. The counter at Discovery Bay recorded 5,522vehicles in January,and 11,564 in August.

When the motor-homing tourists andbackcountry campers —hundreds of thousands in the Olympic Peninsula and HoodCanal area each year — return home, peoplelike the Jay and Dick Johnsons of Glen AyrRV Park, Bob Koeppen at Snooze Junctionon the North Shore, BillCampbell at Rest-A-While north of Lilliwaup and John and DeeWilcoxen at the Trails End Tavern at South

Point depend on the camping clubs togenerate business.

Those clubs have helped make asuccessof the Johnsons' decision to go year-

round when they bought a fishing campnamed Glen Ayr north of Hoodsport fiveyears ago.

Closing in the winter was the norm onthe canal then, Jay Johnson said, and "webucked big odds" in challenging that trend.

But "the clubs come out in the winter,from all over within two hours of Hood

Canal — Eagles, Elks, Mooselodges, the VFW, they allseem to have large travelclubs and they like to gettogether."

Campbell at Rest-A-While, north of Hoodsport,said they often have twoclubs per weekend helpingfill their 97 RV spaces in thewinter.

The Wilcoxens do a

fairly good business at theirtavern, considering it lies atthe dead end of a rural road,on the tarmac of a defunct

ferry landing. But that tarmachas become a sub rosa

campground for RVers,andwhen a camping club rolls in,such as the Port AngelesEagles on Memorial Day,things are really hopping atTrails End, said fill-inbartender Dawnie Davis.

Hoodsport

Home of theHoodsport Winery

and gateway toLake Cushman and

Staircase inOlympic National

Park.

L-hris Gunter learned a lesson whenshrimp season opened in 1990. It was thefirst shrimp season since he bought theSunset BeachGrocery in 1989and he had thewrong cat food on his shelves.

"Shrimpers use only one kind of catfood," said Gunter, who lives in Seabeck andcommutes each day to the South Shore store."Puss'n BootsSupreme Seafood Platter."Once his distributor straightened him out, hesold cases of the stuff.

Gunter figures his business quintuplesin the summer over the off-season, when hekeeps his store open but closes the hamburger stand next to it.

Labor Day was his high point last year,he said, with $570in burger sales in one day,and 28 people waiting for burgers at onetime.

His merchandise includes the $40-to-

$400wildlife paintings he does, on canvasand on fungus "conks" he takes off trees

Recreation • 161

"It's not

unusual to do

as much on a

three-dayweekend as the

whole month

of January."— Bob Hart

262 • Using the Resource

There is a

widespreadassumption

that

populationalong the canaltriplesduringthe summer,butproof ofthatfigure ishard to come

by.

when deer-hunting in the fall. "People tendto buy that stuff out here," he said of hisartwork.

As one goes north along Highway 101up the west side of Hood Canal, there is asubtle shift in the tourist draws. Scott Hatch,working behind the counter at the rebuiltEldon Store owned by his brother, Craig,said campers in the Olympic National Forestcontribute greatly to the store's fair weatherbusiness.

Backpackersand campers arriving andleaving, or getting provisions if they outstaythe supplies they brought with them, aregood customers. But weather is crucial, saidHatch, remembering one rainy July 4thwhen no one stopped in the store.

Overnighters at campgrounds operated by and in the Olympic National Forestbrought 265,000 people into the forest in1989,said Ken Eldredge, assistant recreationstaff officerfor the forest. But they are justthe tip of a very large iceberg.

Day use, mostly one-day car tours, isthe largest part of what forest officialscalculate to have been 4.6 million visitors to

the forest last year. Another 3.5 million were

counted within Olympic National Park,though most of those went to attractionsreached from the western side of the park.

"We have wilderness,hunting, fishing,auto touring. A lot of people just like to drivethe backroads," said Eldredge. 'Thafs one ofour biggest uses."

He figures 60-65percent of thosepeople use facilitiesin the part of the forestbordering Hood Canal "simply because it'sclose; it's a tank of gas from Seattle and themetropolitan areas." And he figures only 5percent of the forest's visitors come in thewinter.

Mike's BeachResort north of Lilliwaupwas named after Boband Trudy Schultz'sson Mike shortly after his birth 39 years agoand has been run by the family ever since.

"That's the way of the canal, family-owned," said Trudy, who has run the resortwith her son since her husband passed away."The season's so short you can't afford anemployee."

And, in fact, there is scant corporate orout-of-county ownership along the canal.Minerva Beach RV park at Hoodsport,owned by a Seattle limited partnership, is a

She Finds'Tushing" the Canal an Easy Job

wit hen a group of Sheltonbusiness manager.

l/mi people formed the Mason County She retired in 1979and stayedF w Tourism Council in 1989, they retired (but did a lot of volunteer work)

chose 75-year-old Mary Helen Anderson until agreeing to head up the touristto run it. A fourth-generation Mason center.

County resident, she decided to end 10 The center handled inquiries fromyears of retirement to begin her fourth nearly 6,000travelers in the first sixcareer. months of 1990, she said.

T think we live in the most beautiful Mary Helen was born in Aberdeenpart of the United States,and I like to on Christmas Day, as her parents werepush it." returning from visiting family in

In her younger years, she did leave Hoquiam.the area and wound up in Washington, "My dad was a captain on a four-D.C.,a single girl during World War II, master schooner sailing out of Porthelping print money with the Bureau of Townsend, Port Ludlow and PortEngraving and Printing. But she returned Gamble," she said, "back in the dayshere in 1944. The war was winding down when they sailed out of those places"and I was homesick," she said. instead of Tacoma and Seattle. My family

She married George "Andy" on weekends would go on little trips"Anderson, a Montanan, in Seattle, and she along Hood Canal, she recalled, establishbrought him to Hood Canal country. ing her love for the area that remains to

While he worked at Simpson this day.Timber, she ran the Holiday House floral ByTravis Bakershop in Shelton, then was a nursery

rareexception. There are few businesses ofanysize. Alderbrook Innhasno rival alongthe length of the canal.

The 100-unit inn, Hood Canal's mostsumptuous hostelry, depends lessonsunshine, tides, and drive-by traffic than .most of the canal's tourist

businesses. Alderbrook's

Wes Johnson, who seemsalways to have the inn up forsale but somehow never sells

it, has carved out a niche inthe conference and meetingsarea.

Operations managerBeverly Scherer saysAlderbrook does more and

better business in the sum

mer than the winter, butconferences are the heart of

that business, whatever the

season.

They regularly haveno-vacancy nights, winterand summer, she said, andhave had single conferencesthat fill the inn's 80 rooms

and 20 cottage units. Forsome of the biggest, they'vehad to farm out the overflow

to motels in Shelton and

Belfair, or to some cabinsnearby.

Though the inn getsindividual customers from all over, it doesn'tdo much marketing out of state and overseas, she said. Despite such robust business,there is no talk of expanding.

As with just about everyone elsecatering to tourists and summer residentsalong the canal, shrimp season meansbusiness — non-conference business — for

Alderbook Inn, said Mrs. Scherer. Shrimpersrent many of the rooms during the season.The inn's dock, where spaces are rented, isfilled with boats at that time of year. Innoperators don't make any special effort toavoid conference business at that time of

year. Butshrimpers have their own means ofmaking sure there's room. "Shrimpingcustomers normally will book for the nextyear when they check out," she said.

Hunting season contributes little to theinn's business, but holidays do, even winter

ones. "New Year'sEvewe're always full,"said Mrs.Scherer, though Christmas isn'tthat good.

WhenJohnson bought Alderbrook Inn35years ago(ifs existed for75 years), it wasstrictly a summerresort, saidMrs. Scherer,and all that was there were the cottages anda restaurant and lounge where the pool is

now?Now there's a golfcourse and 36 motel units

that were added around

1980.

AlderbrookInn

Alderbrook Inn, themost completeresort on Hood

Canal, defeats theseasonal doldrums

byhostingconferences and

meetings.

Helen Nickels sweptthe sidewalk in front of the

True Value Hardware she

and her husband owned forthe last time one sunny Julymorning in 1990. Thatafternoon, they were scheduled to sign papers sellingthe Hoodsport business theyhad for 20 years. They wereretiring.

It took three months to

sell the business, but only 14days to sell their double-widemobile home on the canal.

"Everyone seems to want toget a house on the water allof a sudden," she said.

And where does one

retire to after living in atourist mecca like Hood

Canal? Moses Lake, saidHelen. "They have more fishing lakes therethan anywhere else."

John Skelton, owner of the HungryBear restaurant in Eldon for seven years,says his business still is increasingbut hewonders if everyone's is.

"The big drawing cards aren't here anymore," he said. Fishing is a shadow of whatit used to be; shrimping is limited to a coupleof weeks in May before school is out; andclamming and oystering is shut down at theDosewallips, because of seal feces.

"It seemed like before the parks wererunning full most of the summer months,"he said. "Now you can get into most any ofthem most of the time.

"We're still increasing (at the HungryBear). There's still plenty of people comingthrough, but I don't think there's as manypeople staying here anymore," he said.

Recreation »163

"Ifwe don'tpay for

(sewers), itwill kill the

canal. Peoplewho don't

think about it

aren't lookingbeyond today.

I hope toheaven it's not

too late now."— Virginia

Trammell

164 • Using the Resource

IhePort of Seattle regularly bringstravel writers fromJapan, GermanyandBritainhere to tour Washington state.Onesuch tour, 11 journalists fromGermany,made a rare stop along Hood Canal on theKitsapside in June,gladdening hearts at theVisitors and Convention Bureau in

Bremerton.

'They did a seven-day trip of theOlympic Peninsula, and Hood Canal wastheir favoriteplaceof the whole trip," saidMim Heuss, head of the bureau. "Weputthem up in four different bed and breakfastsalong the canal,and they willbe goingbackto Germany fired up about tellingpeopleabout the canal."

B.J. Stokey, tourism manager for thePort of Seattle, acknowledged that it was arare stop along the canal for their mediatours, and her staff who accompanied the

Germansreported that they were highlyimpressed.

"We hope to do it more often," she saidof the canalstops.

Heuss also tellsof a Californiacouplewho,afterseeing HoodCanal, asked "Whyhasn't someonedeveloped this for tourism?"

Somevery likelywill try, and soon,observesJayJohnsonofGlen Ayr.

Family-owned tourist and recreationbusinessare "the usual thing at this time," hesaid. "Butwe see land values growing and itwill forcesome big changes out here. Thesemom-and-pop operations may go by thewayside because of the value of the land.Youmay have to either get big or get out.

"On this side of the canal, there'snothing like Alderbrook Inn and ifs close todemanding that kind of place.Once someone whacks out something like that, it will bea lot tougher for the smaller ones."

Boaters enjoy Hood Canal waters and helpdetermine whether theystay clean.

Pleasant Harbor is a snug, teardrop-shaped bay along the westernshore of Hood Canal. Evergreensgrow to the water's edge, andeagles soar over the bright water.Even at the marina, where boaters

pull in for food and gasoline, one can discernrocksand pebbles in water up to 10 feetdeep.

Pleasant Harbor is the last place youwould expect people to be dumping rawsewage from their toilets. Yetduring theopening days of boating season in 1988, theharbor was suddenly hit by bacterial pollution, according to researchers taking samplesthere at the time.

In the quiet, undeveloped bay, boatswere the only logical source of pollution on

thatbusyMemorial Dayweekend, saidresearchers from the state Department ofHealth. Two months before, bacteria were

practically nonexistent, they noted."Shellfish tissue was clearly adversely

affected by the presenceof boats," the reportstates, "in that 91 percent of the samplesfrom within the harbor exceeded the com

mercial shellfish meat standard."

That's not to say boats are the principalsource of pollution for Hood Canal as awhole. Other studies point to failing septicsystems, livestock and even harbor seals asmain sources of bacterial contamination in

other areas of Hood Canal.

But even occasional visitors can

damage water quality, said John Heal,administrative director of the Hood Canal

Recreation *165

Section 4

How

Recreation

Threatens

the Canal

By ChristopherDunagan

166 • Using the Resource

"Boaters like

to say, 'It's notus'—like

farmers andloggers andseptic tankowners. But

there's no

question it'shappening, andthe impacts are

noticeable."—John Heal,Hood Canal

CoordinatingCouncil

Coordinating Council."Boaterslike to say, 'It's not us' —like

farmers and loggers and septic tankowners,"saidHeal. "Butthere's noquestion it'shappening, and the impacts are noticeable incertainsmallembaymentson busy weekends."

Such impacts are believed to be theresult of pleasure boaters and commercialfishermen who pump theirmarine toiletsoverboard in violation of federal law. Theincreased pollution can be measured,especially in shellfish that concentrateorganismsin their meat,and posesa threatto human health,officials say.

Jay Wilkens of Fresno, Calif., marveledat the clear waters of Pleasant Harbor, wherehe moored his boat "Good Times" while ona trip to Canada. 'The delta at Antioch (nearStockton, Calif.) is like a sewer. You cancatch fish, but they'renot fittoeat. Peoplethere just dump the stuff overboard."

It's important, said Wilkens, thatboatersunderstand what theyhavein HoodCanal and do whatever theycantoprotect it.

"When you can see the bottom in 8 or10 feet of water, that is wonderful."

Boaters alsomay spillsmallquantitiesof oil and gasoline into the water, threatening thehealthofmarineorganisms, particularlyat marinas. Oilforms a toxic layer onthewater's surface, where many microscopicplantsand animals spend a critical part oftheir lives.

Non-boaters alsoneed to pay attentionto theirimpacts on HoodCanal, officials say.Forexample, summervisitors may overtaxinadequatesepticsystems alongthe waterfront, and litterbugscan turn the canal into agarbagecan—with dangerousimpacts onwildlife.

Some boaters become defensive whenpeople talk about sewage.Certainlynot allboaters are to blame, said Heal, but smallbays are especiallyvulnerable.

'There are enough studies that I'mconvinced bacterial contamination is aproblem, and a good portion of it comesfrom boats," said Heal.

In a 1988survey of more than 3,000boatersaround Puget Sound,nearlyoneoutof five readily admitted their boats had atoilet with direct discharge into the water.Coast Guard regulations require that suchboats have at least a holding tank to containthe wastes.

Of boaters whose vessels had a "Y-

valve" — which directs the waste either to aholding tank or into the water — some 14percent said they always leave the valveopen to the outside waters. Another 38percent saidthey discharge sewage onlyinthe main channels ofPugetSound.

Federal law prohibits dischargeswithin three miles ofshore —thatis,anywhere in Puget Sound or Hood Canal.

A shortage of shoreside facilities is thereason cited most often forillegal discharges.InHoodCanalthe onlypump-out stationinoperation in 1990 was at Port LudlowMarina.

The state Department of Parks andRecreation and the Hood Canal CoordinatingCouncil bothlaunched programs to teachpeopleabout the impacts ofboating, andboaters maybe listening.

Lance Willmon, assistant manageratPort Ludlow, said the number of boatersusing the marina's pump-out systemhaveincreasedfrom just a few over the course of ayear to as many as 20 on a typical weekend.

Pleasant HarborMarinamanagerWayne Harris said so few boaters used themarina's pump-outstation that it washardlyworth the constant repairs.

'The pump itselfwas not designedfora saltwater environment," said Harris. 'Thepump froze up, and Iended up justthrowing it away."

But more and more boaters startedasking about the facilities.

"I've turned down tenfold the numberofinquiries thisyearthanwe pumped outlastyear," saidHarrisin 1990. "People arebecoming aware. I thinktheadvertising isgetting out to people."

Harris wanted to get the facility backinoperation, but a replacement pump iscostly,$3,000-$4,000. It was runningagainin 1991.

Under a new program funded by boattaxes,the state will pay for constructionofpump-out stations if marina owners agree tomaintain them and pay for electricity. One ofthe first pump-out stations under the newprogram was built at Twanoh State Park ontheSouth Shore ofHoodCanal and openedin 1991.

Holding tanks aren't the only approved method of handling sewage,according to Coast Guard officials.

BobCromes of Lilliwaup installed a$1,500 sewagetreatmentsystemthat grindsand treats the sewage with chemicals.Thetreated effluentcan be legallydischarged,

but the method isn't without controversy."Wewould never pump it out in a bay

like this," said Cromes, sitting in the galleyof his boat "BlueChip", docked at PleasantHarbor Marina. "We live on Hood Canal, sowe're very protectiveof it."

Cromes and his wife often travel toCanada, where officials prefer that hedischarge thesewage withoutchemicals,which contain formaldehyde.

'They'd ratherhave(waste) in thewater than formaldehyde," said Cromes.

Formaldehyde can be toxicto marineorganisms, asit istobacteria, but theU.S.government putsthefirst priority onhumanhealth and won't allow discharge withoutchemical treatment.

'There is no questionthat peoplehavegottendisease fromwaters that are infected," said Dr. Willa Fisher of theBremerton-Kitsap County Health Department.

On the East Coast, contaminated wateris associated with hepatitis and intestinalillness, she said. In the Gulf of Mexico,people have contracted cholera. Tuberculosisis another disease passed through rawsewage.

'The other thing you see," she added,"areeyeinfections and skin infectionsrelated to bacteria in the water."

The Coast Guard, charged withenforcing illegal discharges fromboats,appears tobecracking downon violators.

"MSDs (marine sanitation devices) areregularly checked whenever wedo anyCoast Guard law-enforcement boarding,"said Dennis Booth, chief of marine lawenforcement for the Seattle District. "For thelasttwoyears now,we havereally workedhard at enforcingthe MSDregulations inPuget Sound."

In a 12-month period ending in June,1990,578 MSD violations were noted inWashington and Oregon, said Booth, andabout half of those resulted in fines rangingfrom $150 to $350. The others were warn

ings.Coast Guard officers regularly check to

make sure that boats with an installed toilethave either a holding tank or a treatmentsystem. TheY-valve mustbe "secured" in aclosedposition to prevent discharge overboard, said Booth. That means using apadlock,heavy tape or non-releasabletie.One can also remove the valve's handle, he

said.

Boatersare allowed to use portabletoilets, said Booth, but they can't dump themoverboard.

DennisMcBreen, manager ofSeabeckMarina, said he finds boaters often stop atthe marina to use the dockside restroomsrather thandisposing oftheirwaste in HoodCanal.Somealso are carrying portable toiletsonto their boats — even if they have aninstalled toilet already, he added.

"People don't want to get theirin-boattoilets dirty; that'sa continual linewe hear,"said McBreen. But the use of shoresidefacilities also means people are thinkingabout pollution,he said.

"In Hood Canal, the number of peoplewhodump it overboard isquitesmall,"added McBreen.

It is hard to comparethe impactsofdifferent types ofpollution, according to BillClelandof the state Department of Health.But raw sewage dumped into the watercreates a morehazardous problemthan thesame amount of effluent from a malfunctioning septic tank.

Unlike liquid effluent, whichisdilutedbysaltwater, floating solids canharbor hugecolonies of dangerous bacteria for longperiods oftime. When thesolidsfinallybreakapart, they release bacteriathat canruin shellfish beds and swimming areas, hesaid.

Donna Simmons of Hoodsport, whogrewup on Hood Canal and recentlyheaded an education projectaimed at areaboaters,says peoplemust be willing tochangeifHood Canal is to survive.

"From the time I was a little girl untilnow," she said, "there has been a tremendous increase in the number of boaters."

Her Hood Canal Boater Task Force,sponsored by theHood CanalCoordinatingCouncil, drew together localpeople whoconcluded that education was the solution.Thegroup produceda brochure/boatingmap and erectedsigns last summer at 15marinas and boat launches.

"Thesignsbasically ask that peopleproperlydisposeofsewage,trash andengine-maintenance products," she said.'They pointout that Hood Canal is a veryfragile bodyofwaterand issusceptible tothat kind of pollution."

The messageis getting through, sheadded, because it comes from the hearts oflocalpeople — including boaters who careabout Hood Canal.

Recreation *167

In a 1988

survey of morethan 3,000

boaters around

Puget Soundnearly one out

offiveadmitted their

boats had a

toilet with

direct

discharge intothe water, inviolation ofCoast Guard

regulations.

168 • Using the Resource

"Hood

Canal is a

veryfragilebody of

water and is

susceptibleto that kind

ofpollution."

— Donna

Simmons

Wildlife Victim to Debris

Despite its natural beauty,HoodCanal is marred by the trash ofmany people.

Habitat, seeminglyabundant forseabirds, includes killing trapsmadeofabandonedfishing lineand plastic six-pack rings. And natural food sources inthe water and alongthe shoreare taintedwithtinybitsofplastic thatbirds pick upand eat,mistaking themforfish eggs andtiny creatures.

Hood Canal is actuallycleanerthanmany areas around Puget Sound, observers say, and residents and visitors aregenerally good caretakers of the water.Butthe human recordis farfromspotless.

"Peoplefor the most part want thewater to stay clean," said DonnaSimmons, coordinator of a boater education program for Hood Canal, "but thereare always those who do not make theconnection betweenthrowinga six-packringinto thewaterand theideathat theymight be destroying wildlife."

The answer is to keep plasticsout ofthe water—but thafs easier said thandone,saidKenPritchard ofAdopt-A-

Beach. While it is illegal todump anywaste off a boat — and boats over 26 feetmustdisplay a signsaying so—a surprising amount of the debris comes from theland, he said.

"Thebulkof the debrisin PugetSound is land- and shore-based. A lotcomes from roads, ditches and stormdrains."

The most common type of marinedebris isplastic foam usedindrinkcupsas wellas foodand bait packages. Ifs alsoused as flotation in docks, and a tremendous amount breaks off into the water,said Pritchard.

Eventually the foam chunks breakdownintoround"cells," small enough tobe eaten by birds and fish.The solution,he said, is to sheath flotation material invinyl,so the plasticfoamcan't get loose.

Pritchardsays the problemwillonlybe solvedwhen enough peoplerealizethat everyplasticcup they leavebehindata picnic, everyplasticbag they failto grabwhen the wind comesup, is part of HoodCanal's debris problem.

By Christopher Dunagan

Devil's bike near Mount Walker has

been isolated from encroachment ofnon-nativeplants but is vulnerable toeven the most innocent human visits.

Visiting Devil's Lake is likestepping back in time, perhaps200-300years, to a period whencivilization had not yet carriedthe seeds of foreign plants to thePacific Northwest. At one end of

the lake lies an enchanted world — a rare

bog, where the sound of distant bubblesaccompanies each footstep in the spongymoss.

Here, tiny sundew plants secrete asticky residue to capture microscopic insects;wild cranberries cling to delicate vines; and

spongy lichens grow in 3-foot-tall moundscalled hummocks. Nearby, a "pygmy old-growth forest" grows ever so slowly in thewet peat.

Only a botanist could fully appreciatethe precious values of this ancient lake,hugging the slopes of Mount Walker southof Quilcene. One botanist, Jerry Gorsline, isecstatic.

Gorsline, a member of the WashingtonNative Plant Society, has identified fivedifferent types of wetlands and dozens ofnative plants within the lake's drainage, all

Recreation *169

Section 5

Innocent

Visits and a

Pristine Lake

ByChristopherDunagan

170 • Using the Resource

Visiting"Devil's Lake is

like steppingback in time,perhaps 200-

300 years. Thelake has

escapedinvasion fromalien plantsthat tend to

drive out

survivors fromprehistoric

times.

on state land. To his delight, the lake hasescaped invasion from alien plants that tendto drive out survivors from prehistoric times.

T don't think we have any non-nativeshere," said Gorsline. "That's why we've gotto protect this area."

Gorsline is worried about human

activities that threaten the lake, activities thatseem routine to fishermen

who crowd the lake on

summer weekends.

He's particularlyconcerned about a dirt road

that winds its way to theedge of the water. Vehiclescould easily carry the seedsof foreign plants to the water,where they could invade thedelicate marsh. Boats could

introduce other exoticplants,including prolific Eurasianmilfoil.

Up the road a shortdistance lies an outpost ofalien plants — early invadersso common that Northwest

residents often claim them as

their own. There's foxglove.('Thafs everywhere butthese pristine areas," saidGorsline.) There's the broad-leafed English plantain,nicknamed "white-man's

footsteps" because it followed settlers across the continent.

There's also wall lettuce, a plant fromNorthern Europe that was first noticed in theSan Juan Islands in the 1920s. It is unknownin most areas of the United States, but in theNorthwest it has spread from the lowlandsinto the subalpine slopes of the Olympics.

Gorsline's greatest fear of all is a tall,wide-bladed and "extremely vigorous" grasscalled reed canarygrass. He spotted the plantalong the rutted road to the lake, not morethan 1 V2miles away.

Canarygrass is a "rhizomatous" plantthat spreads rapidly through undergroundshoots as well as by seeds. It will grow inmoist soil and even under a few inches of

water. Once the plant takes hold, it is nearlyimpossible to eliminate, said Gorsline.

The Eurasian plant did not invadeWashington state until the 1950s,but todaycanarygrass is stealing habitat from nativeplants everywhere. Lake Ozette on the

western side of the Olympics has becomeplagued by it.

'The grass forms dense patches, andfew plants can compete with it," said NelsaBuckingham, often cited as the leadingauthority on native plants in the Olympics.

Less than 100 feet from Devil's Lake,the dirt road becomes so muddy, even in

summer, that vehicles skidaround in it as they passthrough.

'That kind of distur

bance," said Gorsline,"provides a perfect seedbedfor canarygrass."

Though worried thatpublicity might bring evenmore people and moreimpacts, Gorsline said thelake is headed for ruin unless

the public understands howprecious and fragile it is.

"Only by attractingattention to this place is therehope of saving it," he said,adding that people can enjoyit for recreation — if they'recareful.

The road to the lake is

difficult, and Gorsline is notencouraging visitors. Butthose who do come should

stop at the ramshackle A-frame building near the lake.

Visitors should not trample through themarshy areas, he said.

The bog, he explained, "is very sensitive to compaction. I'd never suggest a trailto direct people into the bog."

What he would like to see is protectionfor the lake, located on land managed by thestate Department of Natural Resources. Theland borders Olympic National Forest.

In 1992, the DNR intends to auction offthe trees around the lake. Included in the

timber harvest would be a number of

"residual old-growth" trees, survivors of afire that raged through the Mount Walkerarea in 1864.

Some of the old trees, still showingcharcoal-black "fire scars" from the Mount

Walker fire, may date back to 1701,when anearlier fire destroyed most of the timber onthe eastern edge of the Olympics.

Gorsline, employed by the WashingtonEnvironmental Council, uses his expertise to

Devil's Lake

The pristine lake,unspoiled byinvasionfrom

non-native plants,hugs the slopes of

Mount Walkersouth of Quilcene.

help arrange agreements about how timberwill be harvested. The process is known as"TFW," for Timber-Fish-Wildlife. Gorslinehas proposed keeping the logging back fromthe lake.

"As a TFW person," said Gorsline, "Ihave to respect the harvest goal, so I didn'tgo to (DNR) and say, T want no harvest atall.'"

But what Gorsline would really like is atrade of land between the DNR and the

Forest Service that would bring Devil's Lakewithin the Olympic Forest boundary.

In doing so, he said, protection couldbe extended to the old-growth timber, thefive wetlands, as well as a hillside thatcontains some rare and unusual "saprophytes" —plants that grow on decayingmaterial.

Few undisturbed lakes are left anywhere today, said Buckingham. Devil's Lakemay be especially at risk. "Lakesare likepeople.Youcan compare them loosely,butevery lake is different.I can't think of anyother lake quite like it."

Recreation • 171

"Only byattracting

attention to

this place isthere hope ofsaving it."

—Jerry Gorsline

Part

IVThe People of

Hood Canal