Catawba Riverkeepers

As I stroll down the Riverbend Access Area toward Mountain Island Lake, the staticky crackle of the overhead power lines is a reminder that there’s more here than meets the eye. And what meets the eye is a picturesque and serene stretch of water, bordered by green, lush hardwood trees and pricey homes.

As I make my way down the gravel road closer to the boat docks, another sound abruptly indicates that this is more than just a pretty lake: an automated voice, emanating from a speaker mounted next to a camera atop a pole, says that Duke Energy, which owns the lake, is monitoring the area. The Big Brother-like alert is to deter people from hanging out in the parking lot and being a nuisance.

David Merryman, motoring toward the dock in a 16-foot Sunbird, is a lone figure on the lake, which is still quiet and calm on this warm Saturday morning in May. Merryman is the Catawba Riverkeeper, and he is charged with protecting the Catawba River and its 11 lakes, which originate in the highlands of North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Mountains and stretch out for almost 200 miles into the coastal plain of South Carolina.

It’s a Herculean task, as Merryman and a handful of others who make up the nonprofit Catawba River Foundation are up against everything from explosive population growth, rampant development and harmful industrial waste.

I’m here at Mountain Island Lake to spend a few hours with Merryman and get a sense of what he does, and what it’s like to be one of the more visible advocates of the region’s waterways.

Merryman backs the little Sunbird from the dock, and we head east. It’s a beautiful day to be on the lake, especially Mountain Island, which has several protected nature preserves along its shoreline, including Latta Plantation and Rural Hill Plantation, both in northwest Mecklenburg County.

Because much of the lake is protected, it’s not nearly as developed or crowded as Lake Norman to the north, or Lake Wylie, which straddles the North Carolina-South Carolina line.
In fact, as Merryman guns the engine and we speed along the smooth, glassy water, it’s as if we’re leaving civilization behind. The lake is the smallest of the three man-made lakes that border Mecklenburg County. (Lake Norman and Lake Wylie are the other two).

With approximately 3,281 acres of surface area and 61 miles of shoreline, it’s one-tenth the size of Lake Norman. But Mountain Island is truly the little lake that could, as it supplies drinking water to more than three-quarters of a million people in the Charlotte, Mount Holly and Gastonia area.

Although we’re only about 20 miles from uptown, the lake feels remote and undisturbed. Lush, green trees – oak, hickory and maple – line the shores, where thousands of creatures and insects thrive.
As Merryman turns north, and we make our way around a big bend and head upstream, an osprey makes a lazy arc overhead. As if on cue, a dark monarch butterfly flutters inside the boat and takes up residence in the back corner.

A few small fishing boats meander in the coves, hugging the shoreline. A guy wearing a bright orange shirt, unbuttoned to reveal a hairy, protruding belly, casts a line in the water and gives us a lazy wave.

Then, an incongruous site: Eight smokestacks, jutting upward, stark and gray against the cloudless blue sky. As we get closer, a clearing in the trees reveals Duke Energy’s Riverbend Steam Station.

The coal-fired power plant, built in 1929, is a big, ugly industrial structure, and it looks utterly alien in this pristine wilderness. The facility has giant intake valves that suck lake water into the plant to cool the steam that drives the turbines. As the plant burns coal, it accumulates big piles of ash, known as coal ash ponds, which contain lots of nasty stuff like lead, arsenic and mercury.

According to the EPA, two of the 44 most hazardous coal ash ponds in the United States are at the Riverbend Station. Two others on the hazard list are also at Duke Energy’s steam stations, one on Lake Norman and the other on Lake Wylie.

Merryman says this is particularly troubling because these ash ponds are adjacent to and discharge into lakes that provide drinking water for more than a million people throughout the Charlotte region.

This makes Merryman fighting mad, and he’s constantly battling with Duke Energy and the federal government to take necessary action. In March, he and other members of the Catawba Riverkeeper Foundation met with officials in Washington, D.C. to request more stringent federal regulations. Meanwhile, he’s keeping an eye on the EPA as it continues to debate the best way to treat and dispose of coal ash.

And while it’s easy to portray Duke Energy as the evil corporate giant polluting our water and air, Merryman is quick to point out that plants like Riverbend Station are in operation because of us.

“It’s simple supply and demand economics,” he said. “We all contribute to the problem, and we can all make a difference. It doesn’t have to be 68 degrees in your house all the time. Consume less.”

But Merryman is not about to let Duke Energy off the hook. “Duke is not doing anything to intentionally harm us. But they’re not being proactive to eliminate risk. They get so much from the Catawba, they could give a lot more back. But that would cut into their bottom line.”

We take off again back toward the main channel, and behind us, almost like a mirage, the Riverbend Station is swallowed by the trees, hidden from sight. By now more folks are on the water, including a couple in a kayak, noiselessly slicing through the water. We also pass a big, beefy guy standing atop a board and using a long paddle to steer and propel himself through the water.

“We like to see people out here playing,” Merryman says. “This lake is a wonderful resource.”