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Maine Sends a Draught Message



I thought the listservice would be interested in this drought report from Maine.
 
Cheers,
Don

March 15, 2002
Drought Leaves Maine Stoic but Struggling
By BLAINE HARDEN
New York Times


[S] EBAGO LAKE, Me., March 14 -- In a cluster of 40 homes near huge
Sebago Lake, whose waters are spookily low and wearing a dismal
late-winter collar of mud, residents have enough water in their wells to
shower every other day -- and they shower fast.

They flush their toilets once a day. Unable to use washing machines in
their homes for the past five months, they wait in long lines at
coin-operated laundries. For supper, they usually eat sandwiches off
paper plates. If they want a proper meal -- the kind that requires
washing a lot of dishes -- they drive to a restaurant.

What little groundwater seeps into their wells is often contaminated.
The foul stuff that is intermittently on tap at the home of Wendy
Hurley, 34, a professor of sports medicine at the University of Southern
Maine, has made her, her dogs and her cats sick. Dr. Hurley said it was
killing her houseplants. Since last fall, she and her neighbors have
been forced not only to drink bottled water, but to cook and brush their
teeth with it, too.

A record-setting drought along the Eastern Seaboard, which has raised
alarms that water shortages will make life miserable all summer long,
has been making life miserable in rural Maine all winter. The Maine
Emergency Management Agency says it believes that many of the 53,000
households in the state that depend on shallow wells are running low on
water.

If exceptional rains do not come for several consecutive months this
spring, experts agree, widespread hardship could lead to a health crisis
for tens of thousands of rural residents. Continued severe drought could
also cripple the tourist season, which triples water usage in many small
lake and coastal communities.

Determining the extent of the suffering has been difficult because the
people of Maine are not prone to complaining.

"We think there are a lot of people out there not letting anybody know
they are in trouble," said Lynette Miller, a senior planner at the
emergency management agency. "I attribute a lot of it to the stoicism of
Maine. They feel that if they hang on long enough, it will rain."

Normally, that would make sense.

Maine is usually a very wet place, especially in the winter. The state
gets more than three and a half feet of precipitation in a typical year,
much of it in the form of snow. Winter usually refills Maine's 6,000
lakes and adequately supplies groundwater to the 280,000 houses that
depend on wells or springs. Even after the driest of years -- last year
was the driest of the 108 on record -- hydrologists say that a Maine
winter can be counted on to help reset the water clock.

But something scary happened over the last six months, said Robert A.
Lent, district chief for the United States Geological Survey. Maine
entered the winter with groundwater at dangerously low levels -- and as
the long, dry, warmish winter slouches toward spring, they keep going
lower. Against all experience, winter has made the drought worse.

"We have been setting record lows for groundwater almost every day for
quite a while," Mr. Lent said. "We have had really low water for over
two years now."

The consequences of low water are popping up all over Maine.
Construction of many new homes has been postponed. Farmers are selling
cattle. Small-town water districts will not allow fire departments to
flush hydrants. Well-drilling companies are making money hand over fist,
working seven days a week and unable keep up with demand. The average
wait for a new well, which can cost $5,000 to $10,000, is about three
months and lengthening. Many of the new wells are drilled to depths of
300 to 400 feet, replacing much shallower wells dug by backhoes.

Schools, mobile home parks and a number of small towns are struggling to
raise money for deeper wells, though there are no guarantees that new
wells will yield safe water -- or any water at all.

Like nearly every body of water in this state, Sebago Lake -- a trillion-
gallon lake that is the second largest in Maine -- is about six feet
below what is normal in the summertime. Boat ramps empty into mud flats.
A ferry is mired in mud. Docks have collapsed at marinas, where there is
not enough water to launch boats.

Sebago Lake is the principal water source for 171,000 people in and
around Portland, the state's largest city. The intake for the city's
water system is near the bottom of the lake, and experts say that
neither the supply nor the quality of water for Portland is likely to be
affected by the drought. Most major towns in Maine also have secure
water supplies, at least for the coming summer.

For rural Mainers, though, hardships caused by wells running low are
almost certain to get worse. Maine is the third-most-rural state in the
nation, with 55 percent of its 1.3 million people living in rural areas.

"We have never been this low before, so who knows what is going to
happen?" said Tom Hawley, a hydrologist for the National Weather Service
in Portland. "We are going to see many, many more wells going dry this
spring, unless we get several months of above-normal rains. I don't see
that happening."

Increased rainfall seems to be in store for some Eastern states,
including Maine, the Weather Service said today. But it is not predicted
to be enough to end the drought.

Unlike many other states, Maine has few large aquifers to provide an
insurance policy against long-term drought, said Mr. Lent at the
Geological Survey. When winter betrays Maine, he said, there is little
that anyone can do.

For all the alarm one hears in the voices of water experts in Maine,
Mainers themselves are not making much of a fuss. Few are clamoring for
help from the government. Only 48 low-interest loans from the United
States Department of Agriculture have been given to low-income Maine
residents to drill new wells, although there is money available to help
many more.

Rather than complain to the government -- or to anyone, for that matter --
people here seem to be willing to wait out their problems. That is
precisely the philosophy shaping the long, grim winter at the home of
David and Diane Deering, who live in the woods of southern Maine, not
from Hollis.

"It is kind of a Maine thing to bear up without saying anything," said
Mrs. Deering, 57, a caseworker in the southern Maine office of Senator
Olympia J. Snowe. "You just kind of do what you have to do. We don't
want to put money into a new well. We feel we can just persevere."

The Deerings' well, which is 25 feet deep, went dry last October and
their water pump burned out. The well had produced enough water during
the past 30 years to raise three daughters, all of whom like long
showers. So the Deerings decided to fix the water pump and do the Maine
thing: Wait patiently for the well to produce water. It has, but only in
a dribble.

The Deerings have learned to live with it. They eliminated dish washing
and laundry in the house. They take showers that last no longer than two
minutes. They flush the toilet once a day. The Deerings' two oldest
daughters are grown and showering elsewhere, so the burden of being a
stoic teenage Mainer has fallen exclusively on their youngest, Emily, a
high school senior.

"My parents are, like, O.K., we'll just wait it out," said Emily, who
plays field hockey, basketball and lacrosse and whose showering
requirements dwarf those of her parents. "You try to keep it quiet at
school that you are not taking as many showers as you'd like."

She is surviving, Emily said, by showering at the home of friends with
deeper wells.