Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
Some ended up in the Guadalupe River and South Bay sediments draining
the mining district, as well as in the Alviso Slough area where so much
restoration work is under way.
As each phase of the work unfurls, and as salt ponds of different habitat
types are flooded or returned to marsh, scientists will be monitoring mer-
cury impacts. But collaborative studies between 2006 and 2008 by the
USGS, San Francisco Estuary Institute, and Santa Clara Valley Water Dis-
trict found that flies, fish, and birds living in South Bay tidal marshes had
mercury levels similar to those living in other South Bay habitats. So sci-
entists say the South Bay isn't a bad place for restoration despite the fact
that there's more mercury in its sediments.
Tracking mercury movements during Phase I changes to the salt pond
landscape is just part of an elaborate restoration plan. The project will
begin by restoring 7,500 acres of tidal marsh and enhancing 7,500 acres of
managed ponds by 2020-2030. These will be followed by the gradual cre-
ation of a mix of 13,400 acres of tidal marsh and 1,600 acres of managed
ponds by 2030-2040. At any time, work may be halted depending on how
wildlife, public interests, and the bay itself respond to the improvements.
“If we do our job right, Salt Marsh Harvest Mice, Clapper Rails, and
Snowy Plovers are not going to be endangered species anymore. How cool
is that?” says Orr.
Every tidal wetland around the bay—whether it's a few tufts of cordgrass, a
half-dozen salt ponds, or a vast expanse of mudflats—exists not only in
reality but also in virtual space in the computer banks of the Invasive Spar-
tina Project. Click on any computer in their offices, and aerial views of
every wet nook and cranny along the bayshore can be called onscreen.
Zoom in for a bird's-eye view, or zoom out to the satellite that took the
picture. Click again and a digital quilt of tiny pink, red, and purple boxes
covers the wetland. Each square has been visited by a Spartina Project bi-
ologist with a GPS recorder more than half a dozen times in as many
years, and checked for the opportunistic green alien that keeps threaten-
ing and mingling with the natives: Atlantic cordgrass.
The project has been battling this wetland weed since 2000, but the in-
vader has been around since the 1970s. Back then, well-intentioned engi-
neers planted it to speed vegetation of bare banks and ponds along the
Alameda Creek flood-control channel.
S. alterniflora
spread into adjoining
areas fast and, worse, hybridized with native Pacific cordgrass,
Spartina
foliosa
.
