Steering Committee

The Ventura River runs wilder and the Santa Clara River flows longer and freer. But among the waterways of Ventura County, Calleguas Creek has its own dubious distinctions.

The sloughs, washes and arroyos that snake from the rugged highlands above Somis, Moorpark, Camarillo, Simi Valley and Thousand Oaks to form the Calleguas Creek Watershed are the county’s most polluted.

The low-lying Calleguas, on the fertile Oxnard Plain near the bottom of this natural drain, also is the local waterway most likely to flood, and farmers and governments typically pay nearly $3 million a year to clean up the mess.

At the creek’s mouth lies Mugu Lagoon, a rare saltwater marsh that is home to nine threatened or endangered birds--but which is so laden with pesticides that bird eggs sometimes crack before chicks are born. And fish sometimes die because their food is buried beneath tons of mud and silt.

All are reasons why this network of three dozen streams--stretching 30 miles from the Santa Susana Mountains in Los Angeles County to Point Mugu--draws keen interest from parties as diverse as clean-water enforcers, wildlife preservationists, flood control experts and sewer plant operators.

And now, after 1 1/2 years of planning, about 60 individuals, agencies and organizations have begun to meet regularly to draft a plan for the future of the Calleguas Creek Watershed--a swath of 343 square miles that includes four cities and nearly half of all county residents.

The document will probably take years to complete, but is expected to include a list of watershed problems to be attacked collectively and aggressively--flooding, erosion, pollution of surface and ground water, loss of farmland, and decreasing animal and plant habitat as cities continue to envelop open space.

Committee participants will be asked to do their part to meet the final goals. And some--such as the municipal sewer plants now facing $50 million to $70 million in water quality improvements--will be forced by the state to toe the line.

An array of city, county and state agencies are paying for costly studies. The areawide approach is also supported by federal grants, and the Clinton administration has endorsed such efforts to look at river systems as a whole.

“This is the time for people to start thinking about their hopes and dreams for this watershed,” said Peter Brand, who manages watershed restoration for the Coastal Conservancy, a state agency that works to preserve and enhance natural resources.

Tensions Clear From the Outset

Of all the local struggles between man and nature, development and the environment, perhaps none touches so many nerves as the push and pull over how to manage the Calleguas watershed.

That is because the watershed committee is pondering not only the poisons that dirty stream waters and the sediment that settles to creek bottoms to cause overflows. It is also discussing land use issues that inevitably pit upstream against downstream, developers against environmentalists and the urban east county against the more rural west.

“The whole idea is not to point fingers. It’s persuasion instead of arm-twisting,” Brand insisted. “Right now we’re all on this sort of honeymoon period.”

Even in these early stages of polite and respectful discussion, however, the tension points are clear.

Participants know of the troubles similar watershed committees have had in studying the Santa Clara and Santa Ynez rivers in Santa Barbara County. The Santa Clara committee has struggled for four years because of the unwieldy diversity of interests in the 100-mile, two-county watershed. The Santa Ynez group foundered amid complaints that all interests were not properly considered.

“We’re walking on eggshells here, but it’s worth it,” said Catherine Tyrrell, assistant executive director at the state Regional Water Quality Control Board in Los Angeles, the key agency pushing the watershed effort.

Tyrrell headed a task force that drafted a Santa Monica Bay cleanup plan, and she said that committee’s work has led to changes such as new city standards covering what restaurants and businesses dump into storm drains--and an increased accountability from the top of that watershed to the bottom.

In the Calleguas watershed, the regional water board already could enforce strict new water laws by making sewer plants build multimillion-dollar additions. But instead it is meeting with city officials to talk about less costly alternatives that may make more sense in the long run.

“The regional board is the moving arm behind all of this,” said Carla Bard, a committee member and environmental activist. “Everybody would like to think they’re involved because of the goodness of their hearts, but the fact is that in most cases it requires a regulatory stick to assist the planning carrot.”

Enforcing federal clean water laws, the regional water board can require cities to clean sewer plant discharges, force water sellers to treat water to higher standards, identify polluting industrial plants and even search out polluters such as parks and golf courses that use too much fertilizer, and farmers whose pesticide-laden runoff sometimes tumbles from fields into creeks.

Indeed, one reason farmers are involved in the Calleguas watershed planning is because regulators have indicated that such so-called non-point pollution sources--as opposed to easily identified dischargers such as industrial plants--may be targets of future changes in law and enforcement.

“There is no honeymoon. Farmers start from the feeling that regulators were being unduly heavy-handed already,” said Carolyn Leavens, a committee member who farms lemons and avocados near Moorpark. “We were doing one thing after another that didn’t work. Now they’re trying to do it a whole water system at a time. That’s good, because it’s only when we look at it all together that we’re going to reach compromises.”

The committee’s overriding mandate, members said, is to balance all interests for the good of the overall environment while recognizing that money is limited. That means identifying key problems and solving them in the most efficient way.

“People have various problems they want solved, and we have to find some way to solve them without totally ignoring any of them,” said Wendy Phillips, chief of the water board’s planning unit.

For the Sake of Mugu Lagoon

At the mouth of the Calleguas watershed, stretching along three miles of oceanfront, Mugu Lagoon is one of Ventura County’s most precious natural gems.

It is also where the most prickly issues of the watershed--erosion, flooding, water quality and wildlife habitat--settle like toxic sediment from upstream.

One of the largest saltwater marshes in Southern California, the lagoon is a nursery for scores of fish and mammals, a home of the endangered American peregrine falcon, the California least tern, light-footed clapper rail and the California brown pelican.

Harbor seals still pup there. And birds flying migratory routes depend on its safe haven for food and rest.

But the wetland is increasingly polluted and shrinking under tons of mud and silt. Its existence is as threatened as many of its creatures. Once 3,000 acres, it is now 1,100 acres, and studies indicate it could shrink to 700 acres by 2030.

“We’re the sump that catches the pollutants that come down Calleguas Creek,” said Ron Dow, ecologist at Point Mugu Naval Air Weapons Station.

Upstream soil erosion--much of it from the sandy canyons above Las Posas Valley, Moorpark and Simi Valley--totals 1.2 million tons a year. About 240,000 tons of sediment reaches the lagoon in the average year. That has turned marsh into dry land and is burying the eelgrass that sustains fish.

Some saltwater fish are dying because heavier runoff from cities upstream has increased fresh water in the lagoon, according to a 1995 federal study by the Natural Resources Conservation Service.

Flood waters not only drop heavy doses of sediment but have left the bottom of the estuary laden with pesticides washed from cities and farmland, including long-banned DDT and PCBs. One study found the endangered clapper rail was losing its eggs before hatching because of pesticides.

The lagoon--along with Calleguas Creek, Revlon Slough and Beardsley Wash--is listed by water officials as “impaired,” which means it is so polluted it cannot meet quality standards or be used in some beneficial ways.

Despite its degradation, Mugu Lagoon is still pristine by Southern California standards.

“We’re definitely the least disturbed saltwater marsh,” Dow said. “We still have a tremendous diversity of fish and wildlife.”

That is why many involved in the watershed effort see the health of Mugu Lagoon as a prime goal of their planning efforts.

“Even if we weren’t concerned about all the landowners up and down the watershed,” Brand said. “Even if we weren’t concerned about the flooding. The reason a lot of people think this effort is really important is because they fear losing Mugu Lagoon.”

Farmer’s Viewpoint

Just up the creek from the lagoon, Jack Broome and his son John Jr. operate a vegetable ranch their family has owned through high water and low since 1880.

“I guess you could say I own the creek, which is a dubious distinction,” Jack Broome said, since he and his sister, Elizabeth Miller, control about 1,500 acres on both sides. “And every flat acre has been covered with [flood] water at one time or another.”

Broome’s property has been inundated to a depth of 6 feet, he said, and he has spent up to $10,000 an acre to scrape sand from his fields. Even with only minor flooding two years ago, he figures he spent $1 million to bulldoze the stuff to the side of fields and truck it off.

Still, Broome is not a believer in yet another study of Calleguas flooding. “We’ve done so many studies we’ve studied the studies that we’ve studied,” he said.

Broome said he knows the way to stop the flooding: Stabilize creek banks so they don’t erode, and build large basins upstream to capture sediment before it reaches the flat Oxnard Plain and collects on the channel bottom, forcing the water out of the creek.

But there hasn’t been money to do it, Broome said.

“So when a big storm comes, there’s not much you can do,” he said. “After you experience it a few times, it’s que sera, sera.”

Officials estimate that the cost to farmers and government agencies of erosion, sedimentation removal and flooding along the Calleguas averages $2.7 million, with damage reaching $5 million annually after bigger storms.

Debating Park’s Future

Only a couple of miles north of Broome’s farm, near Camarillo State Hospital, is a piece of land that reveals the clash of interests among those with a stake in Calleguas watershed planning.

Ventura County, an active participant in the committee’s efforts, and several committee environmentalists disagree on what should happen to 370-acre Camarillo Regional Park at the foot of the Santa Monica Mountains.

The county parks department, answering a mandate to pay its own way, wants to build a 16,000-seat amphitheater and 18-hole golf course there, projects that would net an estimated $650,000 a year.

But environmentalists, including Bard, say the park site is invaluable as a habitat for fish, birds and plants, and might also be used as a flood-control basin.

“The potential environmental impacts of that project are so horrendous,” Bard said. A biologist who toured the site said several endangered species probably live in the park’s creek-side wetlands.

The precise environmental impacts of the project, however, are still unknown because an overdue county analysis has not been released.

Finding a way to preserve the park is important to the committee, Bard said, since the Calleguas watershed has so little wetland habitat. Just 0.2% of the watershed’s 220,000 acres are wetlands, compared to 1% in Los Angeles County and an average 10% statewide, a federal study found.

But county officials say that in these tight times they have to find ways to make money while providing recreation the public wants.

County flood control director Alex Sheydayi, a key committee member, said the park would make a poor flood diversion because it is so small and in the wrong place, since storm waters often breach levees farther upstream.

“It would have no significant impact in reducing the impact of a storm,” he said.

Battling Erosion

Halfway up the watershed, after Calleguas Creek becomes Arroyo Las Posas but before it becomes Arroyo Simi, Los Angeles Superior Court Judge Leon Kaplan’s lemon and grapefruit orchard is crumbling away--another common problem along the creek.

Once 84 acres, the parcel is now perhaps 74. And 100 lemon trees that produced about $4,800 worth of fruit a year have tumbled into the creek.

The problem, said property manager Stan Roberts, is one of location and proximity. The orchard is on a crook in the creek just below all the new construction in Moorpark and Simi Valley.

The creek, once seasonal and slow, now takes the cities’ treated sewage water and runs all year long.

“When the flow is low, it’s not much of a problem,” Roberts said. “But when the water has more speed and volume, it straightens out and runs right into our bank, which is mostly sand and caves right in. And that flow is getting greater all the time.”

Kaplan finally filed a lawsuit this year to force the county to do something about the problem. And a deal may be in the making.

Following through with the kind of public-private partnership that is part of the Calleguas watershed effort, the Coastal Conservancy’s Brand and flood control’s Sheydayi are talking with Kaplan.

The conservancy may provide short-term relief, constructing natural earthen berms and planting willows creek-side to divert the flow. Sheydayi said the county’s long-term plan already includes construction of several groins that would do the same work permanently.

“But we work upstream,” he said, “and we won’t be there for six or seven years.”

Flood control work on the Kaplan parcel would be part of a $15-million effort planned to install sediment traps and structures that cut the speed of water along eight miles of Arroyo Las Posas, where nearby sand canyons deposit sediment that causes flooding and damages crops downstream.

The Coastal Conservancy inched in that direction last week, when agreeing to spend $300,000 to stabilize sandy stream banks in lower Grimes Canyon west of Moorpark--not far from Kaplan’s property.

“The most important thing about this project,” Brand said, “is that it will show the way for farmers and ranchers to restore their own property.”

Farmers will tell you they have been controlling erosion for years. They use terraced hillsides, water traps and cover crops to slow runoff. Under a 1980s county ordinance, new orchards must use such techniques.

Leavens, whose husband, Paul, studied drip irrigation in college in the 1950s, has used the drip system and mini-sprinklers on the family’s 640-acre Moorpark citrus and avocado orchards for many years.

Water costs have soared so high that farmers try to recycle every drop, she said. That not only cuts erosion but also reduces the amount of fertilizers and pesticides that flow into the creeks.

However, the Natural Resource Conservation Service study found that orchards, especially those on hillsides, ranked third among causes of erosion in the watershed. About 184,000 tons of soil came from them, compared to 240,000 tons for natural erosion, 178,000 tons from stream banks and 106,000 tons from construction sites.

New Polluters

At the top of the watershed, Simi Valley, Thousand Oaks and Moorpark have been identified as new and growing sources of pollution and problems for their downstream neighbors.

Some studies describe city runoff as “urban ooze”--waste oils, fertilizer, trash and toxic throwaways--that flow into drains during storms, or are dumped.

Water from upstream sewage plants also sometimes pollutes both streams and ground water, according to the 1995 federal study. A new state law requires larger cities to determine how much runoff they produce.

Just how much upstream cities contribute to downstream problems is a focus of the watershed study.

“One of the issues of concern is development. Everything that humans do impact the outcome in terms of runoff,” Sheydayi said. “And I’m not sure when city councils approved development in Thousand Oaks, or Simi Valley or Moorpark they really considered the cumulative impact of what they’re doing.”

Brand said upstream development is a touchy issue. “Nobody is yet willing to say how much of the pollution is caused by the cities versus the farmers,” he said.

But the watershed’s five sewer plant operators are acting collectively to find out.

Faced with sanctions from the regional water board, they are sponsoring a $1.7-million study to find who is responsible for high levels of ammonia, nitrates and chlorides that diminish the quality of water downstream.

Don Nelson, Thousand Oaks public works director, said the city wants to do its part to make sure the region’s water supply is safe and reliable. But officials do not want to spend $15 million to improve the city’s Hill Canyon plant to improve water quality to levels that they think should not apply to man-made local streams.

“This goes back to the Clean Water Act, one law fits all,” Nelson said. “But the Arroyo Simi and Conejo Creek are not a trout stream in Vermont. Any aquatic life that is there is there because of our discharge.”

Laura Herron, assistant city manager in Simi Valley, said her city operates a model sewage plant but still faces $20 million in plant improvements because new standards require so pure a level of discharge.

“We were recognized statewide as the plant of the year,” she said. “But then you talk to the regional board and they’ll say we’re doing all these horrible things. How do you square that with reality?”

But the water board’s Tyrrell notes that her agency has given the local officials until 2002 to complete their studies and come up with alternatives to sewer plant expansions.

“This whole process is sort of stepping back,” she said, “and finding out what’s the best way to go.”