Voices From The Gulf: View from Dauphin Island

This is the fifth installment in our series "Voices From The Gulf," focused on people who live and work in the areas being affected or threatened by the spill. See the others here, here, here, and here.

Dauphin Island is truly earning its keep as a barrier island. Today it is helping block oil from reaching Mobile Bay—home to major shrimping and oystering industries. The western end of this formerly quiet, sandy stretch is the front line of the battle.

All of this is pretty surreal to resident Irene Hawkins. Her house sites directly across from what is now central command for the National Guard, where officials are orchestrating massive efforts to keep oil from the shores and out of the bay.

Irene says she was shocked at how fast they got to work piling up mountains of sand and constructing huge fences along the coast. “It is unbelievable how much they have moved," she said. It's certainly better than any hurricane response she's ever seen.

She’s grateful for these initiatives but is also unsure about how well they will work. For now, the sand is a physical barrier to protect the marshes and dunes from oil. The problem is one hurricane could wash all that sand away. There are also many major gaps between the islands where the oil could slip through. In fact, reports yesterday say some oil has already washed past them.

Besides the massive sand walls outside her door, Irene says she can feel the effect of the oil even if she can't see it yet. For one, all fishing, shrimping, and oystering has been shut down. And Irene speaks of a charter boat captain who committed suicide last week. “I am sure there were other circumstances, but this spill was like the straw that broke the camel’s back. There are victims of this far and wide.”

Where possible, fishing boats are working the booms or pulling skimmers to try and contain the slicks, but not everyone can be employed in this way. And, with no seafood supply, local restaurants that have been there “forever” will have to close. Tourism is down, and, for the first time in 75 years, the Alabama Deep Sea Fishing Rodeo was canceled.

But Irene remains cautiously optimistic.

“Some folks are the voice of doom, others take the wait and see approach. That’s me.” She then points out that the oil doesn’t cover the beaches of the island yet. “People think we are knee deep in oil down here, that‘s just not the case.” She is also hopeful that there's a silver lining to all this attention. Attempts to protect the island, for example, could help fix existing horrendous erosion problems on the beach.

When I ask Irene what she is most worried about, she replies “Most people, including me, are concerned for the fragile ecosystem around the island, the marshes and wetlands, and all the shore birds and sea animals.” This includes the hundreds of least terns that are nesting on the sand right outside Irene's back door.

And though optimistic, Irene says it’s hard to know what exactly is going on because of all the conflicting, multiple reports.

That confusion also extends to her opinions about offshore drill rigs.

When I first spoke to Irene, she said, “From my house out in the Gulf I bet you can see about 15 natural gas platforms. I am so used to them being there, I don’t see them anymore. I’m certainly more aware...now. “ But now she's also become more aware of the plight of recently unemployed rig workers.

The big question for Irene is whether the oil industry will now learn from its mistakes. “I am on the fence about it. I just don’t know.”

Photo credit: Irene Hawkins