Kaykers vs. Conservationists in California?

Sea kayakers with Greenpeace bumper stickers and Earth Day T-shirts would seem unlikely enemies to the preservationist movement, but wary environmentalists in one Northern California community are watching the kayaking boom closely.

In West Marin county, kayakers are being accused of disturbing wildlife and contaminating water in what has been called America's cleanest bay. "We may have to have kayaks banned," says Barbara Salzman, an Audubon Society activist concerned about the birds of Bolinas Lagoon. Salzman and other Auduboners are calling on authorities to limit paddling in a lagoon that has been called one of the top 10 birdwatching sites in North America.

The Lagoon is one of a half dozen major stopovers for migrating birds on the West Coast. Getting flushed into the air can cut short their stay at a time when it's crucial for them to regain strength. "If there's a lot of disturbance, the birds can't rest; the birds can't feed," Salzman says. That same lagoon also is a rookery to dozens of harbor seals. Shy seals and curious paddlers don't mix. A study of human/seal interaction showed paddlers flushed the seals off the beach 26.8 percent of the times they were observed in the study area.

Maria Brown, executive director of the Gulf of the Farallones Association (which conducted the study), says kayakers are not giving predator-sensitive seals enough room. "The mean distance for there to be a flush from someone on the water is 120 meters," Brown says. That's 93 feet more than a football field, a difficult distance for curious kayakers and all but impossible at low tide.

A dozen miles north, in Tomales Bay, environmentalists are also worried about the birds and the seals. And they are worried about something messier: human waste. Oyster farms punctuate the long narrow bay that separates the designated wilderness area of Point Reyes National Seashore from the rest of Marin County. The oyster farmers depend on pure water to stay open. When 171 people fell ill with Norwalk Virus last year, the farmers started looking for culprits. Kayakers, the fastest-growing user group, were obvious suspects. "It only takes one person with human waste," says Terry Sawyer at Hog Island Oyster Company, one of the oyster farms closed by the viral outbreak. "That's all it takes." Oyster farmers and environmentalists admit there is no smoking gun and authorities are looking closely at septic systems to trace the Norwalk outbreak. Still, paddlers can camp on any tent-sized stretch of beach above the high-tide line in the National Seashore and fears exist that not everybody is packing out what they packed in.

Environmentalists are calling for a requirement that kayakers carry portable waste containers and National Park Service officials are beginning their first-ever permit process for campers in the area. So far, a spirit of cooperation exists on the waters. Commercial outfitters are going to meetings with environmental groups and park officials; everybody wants to keep kayaking clean and green. Bob Licht of Sea Trek pioneered the sea kayak business in California. He wants sea kayaking to stay the low-impact, environmentally friendly recreation he knows it can be. "The outfitters know that their business is at stake," he says. "They have to pay attention to these issues."

Michael Jeneid, a 50-year paddler and professional kayak guide who lives on the edge of Bolinas Lagoon, voluntarily suspends his business during the winter waterfowl migration. "Ducks have no tolerance whatsoever for kayaks," he says. "They take off, literally, when you're a quarter of a mile away. You don't have the right to flush the waterfowl off what is very specifically a duck sanctuary."

At least some of the conflict rests purely in the numbers. Paddlers, at least in large numbers, are a relatively new user group and local residents, including the environmentalists, have had less time to adjust to them. Residents complain about shouting and sport utility vehicles with roof racks taking up the prime parking spots. Kayaks can be a jarring presence, one that has gone from occasional novelty to daily disturbance in less than a decade. "When I moved here, you never saw more than one or two of them at a time. Now there are three services on the bay and two or three more that come in every weekend with huge trailers with dozens of kayaks," says Mark Dowie, president of the Environmental Action Committee of West Marin. "It just looks like a whole flotilla of them."

So far, officials in both areas are opting for education over enforcement. Commercial outfitters are being told to teach their clients to avoid wildlife and pack out waste. Signs are going up along the water's edge. Local groups like Bay Area Sea Kayakers are being contacted to spread the message. Both sides are calling it a fixable situation. "They're not jet skis," Licht says. "It just takes some awareness on the part of the paddlers." -Rick Polito