At the end of the municipal pier in Ocean Gate, the summer scene is as it has been for generations: Children splash in the shallows, fishermen’s skiffs swing on their moorings and sailboats race in the distance.
Yet the reassuring scene at the confluence of the Toms River and Barnegat Bay hides the arrival of a new and dangerous creature under the pier.
Almost as long as your arm, the stinging sea nettle jellyfish showed up in the Toms River in force during the summer of 2004. Since then, they have made parts of northern Barnegat Bay unswimmable. The creatures, whose multiple stings can be as fierce and painful as an attack from a nest of wasps, have made Barnegat Bay home as they feed on the pollution generated by a rapidly growing population.
The warning signs have been there for almost 30 years, described by dozens of scientific studies. Until now, the bay’s fish and wildlife have quietly paid the price.
But with the arrival of the jellyfish, Barnegat Bay and the estimated $3.3 billion that it brings to the regional economy every year, is finally at risk.
Government agencies have studied Barnegat Bay as residents and conservation groups clamored for action. The federal Environmental Protection Agency has spent up to $1 million a year for the last 15 years to fund scientific studies, public education and grants for local conservation projects through the Barnegat Bay Partnership.
Yet an EPA spokesman said that “additional actions are needed to fully restore and protect the Bay.”
By the end of August, the state Department of Environmental Protection is expected to issue plans for restoring the bay, such as controlling fertilizer and fixing aged storm water drainage systems.
DEP Commissioner Bob Martin said “We’re going to have a plan, and work to the plan.”
The Legislature could act on its own to pass laws to protect the bay, but there is no clear timetable for when, or if, that will happen.
Yet if inaction remains the norm, scientists say that in less than a generation, the bay’s ecosystem could collapse.
It’s happened elsewhere.
Perdido Bay on the Florida-Alabama Gulf coast is about the same size as Barnegat Bay and is protected by barrier islands. But similar pollution … overuse of fertilizer, nutrient pollution from a paper mill and stormwater runoff from homes and streets … wiped out much of Perdido Bay’s native fish and sea grasses in the last decade, in an ecological shift disturbingly similar to Barnegat Bay trends.
Runoff pollution also has affected parts of Monmouth County, where the coastal lakes such as Wreck Pond and Sylvan Lake … once centerpieces and prides of their communities … have turned into storm basins filled mostly with slime and bacteria.
By 2000, Barnegat Bay showed alarming symptoms of rapid decline. The major problems, according to interviews with dozens of experts and reviews of scientific studies, are:
Overdevelopment. More than 30 percent of the bay watershed has been paved and built over, to accommodate a population in search of coastal living and affordable housing. That growth also is rich revenue for property-tax-hungry local governments. The less open space in the watershed … where fresh water flows to the bay … the higher the stress on the bay.
Loss of wildlife. Clams declined by two-thirds from the late 1980s to 2001 in the bay’s southern end, while native eelgrass beds throughout the bay have shrunk by 60 percent since the 1970s. The annual die-offs pile stinking masses of grass and seaweeds on the bayshore. Vast underwater meadows that once sheltered baby crabs and fish near Barnegat Inlet have disappeared in the last three years. Low dissolved oxygen levels in the northern bay during summer 2008 were a warning sign of dead zones. Fish kills could be coming due to higher water
temperatures and decaying algae.
Land-borne pollution. Some 1.4 million pounds of nitrogen compounds … enough to fill 70,000 20-pound bags of fertilizer … flow into the bay every year, feeding algae and slime that smother and kill eelgrass beds. Two-thirds of the nitrogen comes from an increasingly suburban landscape in Ocean County, according to a December analysis by the U.S. Geological Survey. All that nitrogen is food for massive algae blooms … which over time can kill almost everything
else in the bay.
Oyster Creek. The nuclear power plant’s cooling system draws in more than 1 billion gallons of bay water daily, destroying tiny fish larvae and eggs that cannot be stopped by the intake screens. The DEP has said cooling towers are the solution to reduce water demand, but plant owner Exelon insists the cost would be $700 million to $800 million. The owner said rather than build the towers, it would close the plant … which could put hundreds of people out of work.
Inaction. Stormwater basins … giant holes in the ground near homes and roadways … were installed decades ago to catch tainted water and keep it from the bay. But many are in disrepair and no longer can do their jobs. Only a few repairs are funded each year, with just $2.3 million in federal and state grants in the last few years. There are about 2,700 storm water basins in Ocean County, but no one knows how many need renovation … or what repairs ultimately will cost.
“Barnegat Bay is dying,” said Tim Dillingham, executive director of the American Littoral Society, a coastal conservation group on Sandy Hook. “All the signs are there that the life which has defined the bay, both environmentally and economically, is dying because of the pollution and misuse of the bay.”
Polluted storm water, which carries everything from fertilizer residue to animal waste up to 60 miles downstream, flows freely into the bay with each heavy rain. Woodlands and natural stream banks that once purified fresh water flowing to the bay have fallen to new and old construction.
As the nitrogen-rich pollution hits the water, the bay actually undergoes a massive and remarkable change. The nitrogen causes certain microscopic plants to grow out of control. In turn, ctenophores … small jellyfish that graze on the plankton … grow in numbers, along with swarms of sea nettles that feed on the smaller jellyfish.
Native plankton, the life blood of the bay that fed once-enormous shellfish beds, are crowded out by their ever-expanding competitors. The bay’s signature species, from sea grass to clams to fish, eventually die off, starved by the lack of food from the chemical brew and smothered by nitrogen-fed algae.
Scientists think this is what has led to the stinging jellyfish population explosion. Now the worry is that the animals have established permanent homes in the northern bay, aided by the long-term warming of the waters.
Sea nettles are just one of the visible changes happening throughout the bay today. The bay is fighting for its life at the microorganism level, scientists and government regulators say. When the bottom of the food chain deteriorates, the whole bay can change.
And change can be catastrophic.
No more crabs. No more fish. No more birds. No more carefree swims in the warm, shallow waters. Bayside homes could eventually sit on the edge of brownish alien tides, putting more than $20 billion in property values at risk.
This is not to say Barnegat Bay is lost.
While its ecosystem has been stressed for decades, people also have fought to save it as long. Everyone from fishermen to students has tried to pump new life into the waterway.
The gurgling at the end of the Ocean Gate pier is one sound of hope.
Bay water circulates through a tank on the pier, where volunteers nurse a crop of baby oysters and talk to visitors. Their goal: to show people that the bay needs to remain clean and that it can be repopulated with shellfish.
The contrast of breathing new life into the bay and fighting off the invading sea nettles is not lost on the town’s mayor.
“I saw five of them out here the other day,” Ocean Gate Mayor Paul J. Kennedy said of the stinging jellyfish, as he tended the oyster tank in mid-June. “They had to be two feet long with the tentacles. The residents say they’re already bad this year, and it’s early.”
Economic backbone
Barnegat Bay is a geological and ecological wonder.
Forty-two miles long and up to four miles wide in some parts, it is a playground for 1.4 million visitors in the summer and the backbone for the regional economy, worth more than $575 million to the recreational boating industry alone.
It starts at Bay Head to the north and ends at Little Egg Harbor to the south. To the east are Long Beach Island and the Barnegat peninsula. To the west is most of Ocean County and its 600,000 residents.
Barnegat Bay is also the second-worst estuary in the United States in terms of stormwater-borne pollution, just behind the Chesapeake Bay, according to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
It’s an insidious process that allows nutrient-rich pollution … usually ordinary lawn fertilizer overused by homeowners … to kill off native species.
There is no single factor one can point to as the source of the bay’s pollution. The bottom line is this: The health of the bay depends on the health of the land … the bay’s watershed. The watershed covers Ocean County and a sliver of southern Monmouth County.
From 1960 through 2000, Ocean County’s population grew by at least 80,000 every decade … the rough equivalent of a new Brick Township every 10 years.
With the county’s population estimated to grow to 800,000 by 2030, pressure is building this summer for federal, state, county and local governments to take decisive action to protect the bay.
“The county wants to promote the place as a good place to visit and a good place to live,” said Stan Hales, executive director of the Barnegat Bay Partnership, a federally funded program that coordinates efforts to save the bay. “And by and large, it has been a good place to live.”
But the bay can take only so much, Hales said.
The largest enclosed tidal waterway in the state is a harbinger for the rest of the
coastline. “These problems are common everywhere, but New Jersey is facing them before anyone else because development and population are so dense here,” he said.
“Probably the biggest things, I think, are the water quality and the issues it has on the wildlife,” said Jeff Makowski, 35, a veterinarian who lives along a creek near the bay in Berkeley. “I’m hoping it’s just a natural cycle, but I’m concerned it’s something more.
“You see a lot less ducks than we used to see … the decline in fish: That’s a tough thing. Whether that’s from overfishing or water quality is tough to say,” Makowski said. “As far as the crabbing and stuff, seems like in the last couple years it’s been fantastic. What the quality of those crabs are, I hear a lot of different things from people. The clams, obviously, back in the day they used to be extremely plentiful, and now they’re hard to find.”
Said Hales of the Barnegat bay Partnership: “We’re at a place now where most people recognize there have been losses in resources they are familiar with.”
‘Not a comfortable place’
It is not just scientists who witness change.
“I’ve been here since the ’60s, and it’s not what it used to be in the ’60s,” said Les
Figular, a retiree who lives along Silver Bay in northern Toms River. “The jellyfish now bother my grandchildren or anybody who wants to go in. With the jellyfish, it’s not a comfortable place for them.”
As early as 1987, conservationists, boaters and fishermen were concerned about trends in the bay, and legislators created a Barnegat Bay study group. One of its primary recommendations called for a comprehensive monitoring program to watch the bay’s health.
The DEP samples regularly for bacteria levels and swimming-water quality, but it was only in the past couple years that dissolved oxygen sensors have been in the bay full time, with help from Monmouth University, Hales noted.
In late summer 2008, they detected very low oxygen levels, below water quality standards … an early warning sign of the potential for fish kills. Low dissolved oxygen for fish is like placing a plastic bag over your head. In a very short time, you will be gasping for air.
In a series of public meetings hosted by the DEP this spring and summer, people who have pushed for 20 years to clean up the bay vented outrage.
“Someone’s got to start making some tough decisions, I’ll tell you,” said Michael
Kennish, a research professor who heads Barnegat Bay efforts at the Rutgers University Institute of Marine and Coastal Sciences. “I’m not seeing the management and leadership consummate with what the scientists have been putting out.”
“This cycle of evaluating the science and coming up with a list of actions has been going on forever,” complained Cynthia Zipf of the environmental group Clean Ocean Action. “The people who live on Barnegat Bay have been expecting these actions, decade after decade.”
Kirk Moore
Todd B. Bates
Courtesy of APP.com