Defending Water in the Slocan

by Eloise Charet

I live in Silverton, a sleepy village nestled by Slocan Lake, one of the many lakes separated by lush green mountains in the Kootenays and the source of the Columbia Basin. In the last seven years, I have watched Slocan Forests Products become one of the largest mill owners in British Columbia. All the towns around us have lost their water due to logging. And we figure that if our water is tainted at the source, everybody downstream must be drinking contaminated water as well.

On April 1997, Greenpeace released the report Broken Promises: The Truth about What's Happening to BC Forests., which explains that even though our government promised a world-class logging policy, 92 percent of logging still involves clearcutting and 82 percent of timber sales log right up to the stream banks. This report prompted Canadian Premier Glen Clark to label environmentalists the "enemies of BC." So take heart, USA, you are not alone.

In fall of 1996 we received the sad news that nine watersheds in our area were doomed to be logged. The Slocan Watershed Alliance and the Valhalla Society felt betrayed once again; we have spent decades conducting workshops and pressing for the Silva Ecosystem Plan and believe that it's not worth the loss of our drinking water for the 19 days of mill operation that the lumber in our watershed will yield. Although many concerned citizens wrote letters to government officials, and the New Denver and Silverton village councils opposed the logging, our concerns were still not addressed.

After 15 days of logging, 350 people blocked the road to the Denver Flats. Fifty Royal Canadian Mounted Police officers prepared for war in the woods and arrested seven dissidents, including Stan Rome, one of Canada's most renowned forest ecologists. My 12-year-old daughter Emma and I were the last arrested. "I don't want to tell my children fairy tales about whales and pure water," said Emma.

After the arrests, mostly everybody but me and this young man named Jack signed themselves out. Emma was released into the care of my sister. I began a hunger strike and refused to sign the release agreement. It stipulated that I would be forbidden to return the site of the devastation. I stated, "I have no appetite to eat. I feel I cannot fulfill my role as a mother. I cannot give my children pure water."

Judge T.M. McEwan sent me to jail until my September 15 court date. I spent three sleepless nights and days in cold dungeon cells and handcuffed in cages inside paddy wagons. I felt stripped of my rights, my dignity, torn from the bosom of my family. By the time I got to Burnaby Correctional Center for Women, I was depressed and dehydrated.

The guards, however, were sympathetic, the inmates receptive to my cause, and my spirit was uplifted. The women organized a petition in support of me. Although my fast was difficult, I managed to sustain myself for seven weeks. Tents were set up in the courthouse yard, and a chain-fast began in solidarity.

People from around the valleys surrounded the building with bottles of creek water. Our "Hunger For Water" campaign was advertised by dances, a streetfest and daily walks down Main Street. The Slocan Village Peace Camp was a beehive of activity. People hung a huge banner from the Nelson bridge reading, "Water or Profits." Two environmentalists walked from Slocan to Vancouver to bring me the best water I have ever tasted in my life, then they headed to Victoria to deliver a 1,000-signature petition to our leaders at Parliament. I was amazed by such creativity.

A 7.7-km-long road is being carved through the Perry Ridge watershed. On August 13, 300 protesters gathered on a hillside there, singing, "born of water, healing, changing, cleansing, powerful we are." The singing sometimes drowned out Sgt. Kerry Kolinsky's reading of the enforcement order. The first four people arrested were lingering at a table drinking pure unadulterated water. In another wave of arrests, including that of Jack Ross, a 76-year-old Quaker who once marched with Martin Luther King, Jr., was nabbed.

A month later, on September 15, Jack and I were the only ones left in jail. Jack had to brake his fast because of his Parkinson's disease. He had lost 20 pounds, and I was 30 or 35 pounds lighter. My kidneys started failing. I felt weak and devastated by the court, and my kids begged me to come home. Finally, I signed out and broke my fast with champagne and nachos (against the doctor's orders)!

I returned home to witness the loss of Bonanza Creek, the source of our lake. After a ceremony in which people turned in their New Democratic Party cards, twelve were arrested.

I will enter my plea October 28 and go to trial. To add spice to the broth, Slocan Forest Products is suing me and the Valhalla Society, Slocan Watershed Alliance and numerous others. They are charging us with conspiracy!

How can we feel contempt or guilt for standing up for the love of the rare, pure water which is left on this Earth? This is truly the last call for water, and water is life. Let us make a living legacy.

To get involved, contact the Valhalla Wilderness Society POB 224, New Denver, VOG 1SO, BC, Canada; (250) 358-2333, fax 385-7950; email: annec@vws.org. Check out Austin Greengrass' on-line magazine "Tinmen" at http://www.tinmen.org.

Eliose Charet has worked at a free school in Morocco and at an orphanage in Cambodia. She is now an herbalist and wildcrafts plants native to the Slocan; her grandchildren appreciate her activism.