CI脡NEGA DE SANTA CLARA, MEXICO 鈥� Juan Butr贸n-M茅ndez navigates a small metal motorboat through a maze of tall reeds here in the Mexican state of Sonora. It鈥檚 nearing sunset, and the sky is turning shades of light blue and purple.
The air smells of wet earth, an unfamiliar scent in the desert.
Butr贸n-M茅ndez lives nearby and works for the conservation group Pronatura Noroeste as a bird monitor. (Pronatura鈥檚 work receives financial support from the Walton Family Foundation, which also funds KUNC鈥檚 Colorado River coverage.)
He cuts the motor in an open stretch of water he calls the 鈥渟cary lagoon,鈥� ringed by tall grasses that rise from the thigh-high water. Without the boat鈥檚 droning hum, coastal birds appear over the reeds, and come in for a water landing.
American coots, with their white bills and dark grey feathers, cackle as they swim. They鈥檙e interspersed among broad-winged, yellow-beaked pelicans. Other birds, just silhouettes, dart along the surface, skimming for insects before dark. There鈥檚 no sign of them tonight, but several species of threatened or endangered marsh birds 鈥� like the Ridgway鈥檚 rail 鈥� call this place home too.
Butr贸n-M茅ndez has explored this wetland since its creation, watching over the course of decades as the shape-shifting oasis was born.
鈥淲ater started to flow to this place in the 1970s. I would walk around here without having to worry about getting wet,鈥� Butr贸n-M茅ndez said through a translator. 鈥淚f there wasn鈥檛 water, it鈥檚 a dry place.鈥�
He鈥檚 been called the Ci茅nega鈥檚 patron saint, able to rattle off its history and the names of the birds, fish and mammals that live here.
The wetland is fed by a concrete canal that removes drainage water from American farms across the border in Arizona. The canal is called the MODE 鈥� Main Outlet Drain Extension. The salty runoff inadvertently created this oasis in the middle of the Sonoran desert, a perfect stopover for migratory birds on their journey along the Pacific coast.
鈥淔or the birds that migrate from the United States to the south, this is a place of rest, a place for nutrients, to give them strength to continue flying to wherever they鈥檙e going,鈥� he said.
But there鈥檚 a problem. As the Colorado River basin heats up and dries out , Butr贸n-M茅ndez is concerned people will stop thinking of the water that flows to the wetland as waste, find a way to use it and, in turn, harm the Ci茅nega.
鈥淭he biggest threat that has me thinking, at times,鈥� he said, 鈥渁lthough you won鈥檛 believe it, I鈥檓 thinking that one day when we least expect it the United States will say, 鈥楴o more water for the wetlands of Santa Clara.鈥欌��
Geographical, topographical and political boundaries shape the Colorado River鈥檚 delta. The U.S-Mexico border bisects the delta, and its fate is controlled by governments, water agencies, farm groups and conservationists on both sides.
Nowhere is that more apparent than at the Ci茅nega de Santa Clara, one of the delta鈥檚 few wetlands, sustained by a water source with an uncertain future.
Wasted water
The Ci茅nega was born in 1977 when the U.S. began draining salty agricultural runoff to the Santa Clara slough, near the Gulf of California. Years prior, the U.S. agreed not to send degraded water to Mexico, a near-constant tension between the two countries since they signed their first Colorado River treaty in 1944.
In called the 鈥淧ermanent and Definitive Solution to the International Problem of the Salinity of the Colorado River,鈥� President Richard Nixon鈥檚 administration agreed to a limit on how salty water would be at when delivered at the U.S.-Mexico border.
To keep the river from becoming loaded with salt, someone had to devise a way to keep the farm runoff from ending up in it. That鈥檚 how the MODE canal came to be. After irrigating lettuce fields and date palms in salty soil near Yuma, Arizona, the concrete-lined MODE would take the leftover water across the border close to the Pacific Ocean to dispose of it.
No one meant to create a haven for birds and other wildlife in the dried-out Colorado River delta in the process. But by sending about 100,000 acre-feet of water annually out into the desert, that鈥檚 what happened.
The 鈥淧ermanent and Definitive Solution鈥� also called for the creation of a treatment facility along the Colorado River that could clean up water from farms along the Gila River in southern Arizona, within the Wellton-Mohawk Irrigation and Drainage District. Completed in 1992, the Yuma Desalting Plant became that treatment facility dreamed up in the 1970s.
Since it was finished the plant has only run a handful of times, and never at full capacity. It remains in 鈥渞eady reserve鈥� status and costs upwards of $2 million each year to maintain.
鈥淭he Yuma Desalting Plant is nothing but a tool in the toolbox,鈥� said Mike Norris, who manages the plant for the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a costly tool to operate.鈥�
During prolonged dry spells though, costly tools become more reasonable. The plant could treat the salty wastewater, send it to Mexico for use on farms and cities to meet treaty obligations, and allow the U.S. to conserve more water on its side of the border, possibly reducing the risk of a shortage declaration in the Colorado River鈥檚 Lower Basin.
Water agencies in the state of Arizona, which would be hit hardest with cutbacks in a shortage, have been particularly keen to look at what operation of the desalting plant might look like.
鈥淚f we continue in the drought situation, as Lake Mead drops, the plant could be considered as one of the tools to take out of the toolbox to help conserve water in Lake Mead,鈥� Norris said.
But it鈥檚 not like you can flip a switch and turn this facility on right away.
鈥淭here鈥檚 a lot of controversy of what that all that looks like,鈥� Norris said. 鈥淭he big concern is if we ever operate this plant at 100 percent, we鈥檇 be directing most of the water into the plant and then what would be going to the Ci茅nega would be the concentrate water, the higher saline water.鈥�
The Ci茅nega wouldn鈥檛 dry up completely if the plant were to begin operating. Instead, it would receive a greatly diminished amount of water, and what it did receive would be highly saline. The super salty water would likely kill the Ci茅nega鈥檚 cattails and reduce the wetland鈥檚 size. It could also see sharp spikes in concentrations of selenium, making it inhospitable to fish and birds.
The wetland does have some protections. The Mexican government has designated the Ci茅nega as a Biosphere Reserve in the Colorado River Delta. It鈥檚 also been recognized for having 鈥済reat ecological significance鈥� by the Ramsar convention, an intergovernmental treaty on the value of wetlands. If the U.S. were to run the Yuma Desalting Plant it would likely trigger a reconsultation of previous agreements between the two countries.
Because it has sat idle for so long, the Yuma Desalting Plant needs millions of dollars in improvements before it could be fired up, including replacement of aluminum pipes and construction of a chlorine containment facility.
Funds to make those updates aren鈥檛 secure.
鈥淲e have not been able to get the necessary funds to run the plant at full capacity,鈥� said Maria Ramirez, who oversaw the Yuma Area Office for Reclamation for years. She recently retired.
鈥淚 don鈥檛 know that it will ever run at full capacity,鈥� she said.
Eyes have turned toward the plant this year as states that rely on the Colorado River are finalizing drought contingency plans. Under the Lower Basin鈥檚 plan, the federal government committed to conserve 100,000 acre-feet of water a year, roughly the same amount of water currently being sent to the Ci茅nega.
鈥淩eclamation is looking at all cost-effective means of meeting this commitment,鈥� said Reclamation spokeswoman Patti Aaron in an email.
The delta鈥檚 past life
Driving to the Ci茅nega, it鈥檚 hard to imagine what the Colorado River Delta looked like when the river still flowed here. It鈥檚 bordered by miles and miles of crusty salt flats. The roads that lead to the wetland become impassable on the rare occasion it rains. They lie on top of layers of sediment 鈥� the Grand Canyon鈥檚 innards 鈥� left here as the Colorado River emptied into the ocean over millions of years.
But sitting on a boat inside the Ci茅nega, you can picture the delta in a past life, full of the green lagoons conservation writer Aldo Leopold described in his 1949 鈥淎 Sand County Almanac.鈥� He explored the Colorado River Delta by canoe with his brother in 1922, nearly a decade before construction began on Hoover Dam.
The picture Leopold painted of the Colorado River Delta is a sensory experience. Gambel quails whistle. Raccoons munch. Jaguars sneak. Waters radiate an emerald green.
鈥淲hen a troop of egrets settled on a far green willow,鈥� Leopold wrote, 鈥渢hey looked like a premature snowstorm.鈥�
Juan Butr贸n-M茅ndez said the only way to prevent the Ci茅nega from being harmed is for more people to know about it. One big threat, he said, is simply ignorance about its existence. If no one knows about the wetland鈥檚 value, they wouldn鈥檛 be upset if it disappeared, his thinking goes.
During our interview, he extends a standing invitation to visit anytime and get lost among the cattails.
Still, he knows about the outside pressures that weigh on the Ci茅nega 鈥� like climate change, growing populations, and tension between the U.S. and Mexico over immigration and trade 鈥� leaving its fate uncertain.
鈥淭he two countries, we鈥檙e neighbors right? The United States and Mexico,鈥� Butr贸n-M茅ndez said. 鈥淲ell, we need to have an agreement between the two countries, right, that (removing the water) wouldn鈥檛 happen. Because it would be a disaster.鈥�
This story is part of a series on the Colorado River delta, and part of an ongoing project covering the Colorado River watershed, produced by KUNC and supported through a Walton Family Foundation grant. KUNC is solely responsible for its editorial content.
