What's In The Water
after historic dam removal, a look beneath the surface of Bayou St. John
for NOLA Defender
March, 2014
“Historically speaking, the bayou was the recipient of a lot of things,” LSU Sea Grant scientist Rusty
Gaudé said at a recent meeting of the Greener Bayou St. John Coalition. And the room filled with the
bayou’s old dirty secrets.
One person said, “sewerage.” Another said, “housing debris.”
Cherie Faget, Parkview Neighborhood Association Representative, said, “It was a dumpster.”
Faubourg St. John resident Eileen Duke said that decades ago, a neighbor told her that it was tradition to
dump cars in the bayou when owners were done with them.
The bayou may still be getting an undue share of misplaced cars, but it’s also getting a little dolled up.
Ever since the notorious Robert E. Lee “waterfall” structure was removed in January of last year,
columns of water from Lake Pontchartrain have been allowed to enter the long-strangled bayou.
“Dams, manmade dams, are just unhealthy for ecosystems. For all sorts of reasons,” Mark Schexnayder,
a marine biologist with the state Department of Wildlife and Fisheries, said at the meeting.
Scientists hope that oxygen, aquatic vegetation, and pregnant fish will make their way up the bayou
from the lake and populate it with a new regime of life.
The meeting discussed what neighbors might do to facilitate that life, including creating fingers of
wetlands beneath bridges and bank side barriers to halt the easy roll of cars into the water. Floating
islands of aquatic vegetation were also suggested, which, Schexnayder pointed out, a Baton Rouge
company produces in any size or shape – even a fleur de lis. Residents liked the idea of creating extra
habitat, but they found the fleur de lis a little tacky. “You’re right,” Schexnayder said, “They’re so last
year.”
Much has been said about the Greener Bayou St. John Coalition’s effort to regulate the boats and the
festivals along the banks of the bayou. Some neighbors want the boats impounded and tighter
permitting practices for festivals on the public land along the bayou. Less attention has been paid to the
group’s advocacy for a healthier ecosystem, which, according to Musa Eubanks, was his group’s original
concern.
At the meeting, Eubanks asked scientists to explain how the lake water is taken into the bayou and how
operators of the system were making sure it was safe for residents and safe for the health of the bayou.
He and other neighbors were alarmed last month when a sharp rise filled the bayou to its banks in about
four hours.
Schexnayder assured residents, “They don’t open the gates and then leave them unattended…They err
on the side of safety. I agree with them one hundred percent.”
Engineering firm Burk Kleinpeter, Inc, which wrote a 2011 report on Bayou St. John water management, is under
contract to draw up a protocol for opening and closing the gates at Lake Pontchartrain. It will consider
optimal rates and levels of lake water for the creatures of the bayou.
Schexnayder, who is assisting in the management plan, acknowledged that there are a lot of variables in
the lake to contend with, especially the salinity factor. But, he says, “This isn’t a nuclear power plant. …
It’s a natural system. We’re going to try to restore as much natural function to it as we can.”
Rusty Gaudé, a scientist with LSU Sea Grant, noted that full “restoration” is impossible. “The origin of
Bayou St. John was really just a crevasse in the river,” he said. 2000 years ago, water coursed through a
break in the Mississippi River’s bank and into Bayou Metairie. It then emptied into Lake Pontchartrain
via Bayou St. John or, during high waters, spread from the bayous into swampy places in the area.
“We’re not going to flood Broadmoor again,” Schexnayder said about the restoration.
Considering the channeling, cementing, and polluting of the bayou since the founding of our present
city, the bayou is doing pretty well. With the Metro area’s track record on “unnecessary water,” it’s a
wonder the bayou exists at all. Except for a small slice near the Peristyle in City Park, Bayou Metairie is
now covered in asphalt. The same is true of Gentilly, Indian, and Tchoupitoulas Bayous, to name a few.
In 1925, one New Orleans architect floated the idea of draining the entirety of Lake Pontchartrain for
development, to the tune of $500/acre.
The bayou that for years was Mid City’s favorite trash receptacle has hung on long enough to become
the neighborhood’s treasure. On any given sunny Saturday, hundreds of people gravitate to boats or to
the banks, many of whom just sit and look at the water. Hundreds and thousands of more beings go
swimming beneath the surface. Sara Howard came to the bayou and started a water-borne tour
company, Kayak-iti-yat tours. She said that the company’s co-founder, Sonny Averett recently saw a
“large school of redfish north of the Esplanade Bridge.” The fish rarely had passed beneath the I610
bridge, presumably because of a lack of oxygen and a buildup of toxins in the water.
At the meeting, Eileen Duke, the Faubourg St. John Resident, recalled the city’s old practice of draining
the bayou to clean it out. “I would see those big turtles,” she said, “Their heads were the size of a pit
bull. And they were like the size of a Volkswagen. You couldn’t miss ‘em.”
Now that neighbors care about their habitat, maybe the turtles will grow as big as minivans.