the salton sea

I first became aware of the Salton Sea from a movie of the same name. Although I barely recall the details of the movie, the image of the Salton Sea remained with me. The images from the movie depicted an almost desolate landscape of sand, water and low-lying mountains in what seemed to be a remote and isolated location. Briefly, the Salton Sea is a saline, rift lake located directly on the San Andreas Fault. The lake currently rests at about 226 feet below sea level. It covers about 376 square miles, making it the largest in California, with a maximum depth of 52 feet. The lake's salinity, about 44 grams per liter, is greater than the waters of of the Pacific Ocean at about 35 grams per liter, but less than that of the Great Salt Lake (which varies greatly). The concentration is increasing by about 1 percent annually. Fertilizer runoff combined with the increasing salinity have resulted in large algal blooms and elevated bacteria levels, creating an environment in which many species of fish are no longer able to survive. Evidence of this is everywhere as skeletal remains of dead fish line the shore. Interestingly, the sea is a major bird sanctuary. Evidently, there is enough life there to attract over 400 species of birds who utilize it as a major resting stop of the Pacific Flyway. It supports 30% of the remaining population of the American White Pelican. I wonder how they are jeopardized by the conditions that do not show any promise of abating.

I had the privilege of visiting the Salton Sea a few days ago while we vacationed briefly in Palm Springs. The Salton Sea is located approximately 50 miles away, but our itinerary put us in the area and we couldn't resist the opportunity to see it for ourselves despite the advice of a park ranger to skip it. As we followed the sign that read "Salton Sea Beach," we entered the small town that surrounds it. It consisted largely of trailer homes set up in the desert sand, a sort of ghost town in the making. We turned down a dirt road that led to the sea and parked at a chain link fence that prevented us from driving any farther. At this point, the sea shore was fully visible. We were about 50 years away from the water's edge. The sun was beginning to set. We left the car and walked around the fence and suddenly became aware of the complete absence of insects. It was eerily quiet as a result and if not for the presence of flocks of birds along the shoreline, it would be unsettling.

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As mentioned, skeletal remains of fish were everywhere, a testimony to the rising salinity and pollutants of the water. The sand beneath our feet had transitioned into what was now layers of broken tiny sea shells. We could see the polluted water as we approached, navigating around all of those dead fish. I was reminded of scenes from the old 1950 science fiction movies that warned of the dangers of tampering with radioactive materials and sinister chemicals. It was amusing (in the context of those old movies that seemed so paranoid and extreme at the time) and sobering to witness this all first hand. I was moved though by the glaring contrast of pollution and death that was present there and the violet-red light of sunset that was reflected in the still waters of the isolated sea in the desert. Even in the slow progression of the death of the Salton Sea there is beauty.