When you think about anthropologists at work, where do you picture them?
Living with a tribe in Africa? Documenting artifacts at a dig in the American Southwest? Examining human remains at a cemetery or crime scene?
How about decontaminating island beaches suffering the effects of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill?
Anthropology graduates Julie Wasinger ’09 and Steve Roberts ’99/03 are meeting a growing need. Over the past 60 years, laws have been enacted requiring federal agencies to protect and preserve the cultural and natural environment whenever possible.
“Today, you are likely to find archaeologists and anthropologists turning up in the strangest places and at the strangest times,” says David Hughes, WSU associate professor of anthropology. “But always with the same purpose: to make every reasonable effort to preserve the past for the future.”
Cultural and biological resource management experts are vital to recovery and cleanup efforts for both natural and man-made disasters, including the Deepwater Horizon disaster.
“Most folks may not think of this as a typical job for WSU graduates in anthropology, but they are in the new mainstream,” says Hughes. “Most people think of archaeologists as dealing with remote times and places, plodding through pyramids, looking for bits of rock, bone or pottery that we collect and take back to museums. In truth, we are specialists in the interface between humanity and the environment.”
Because archaeologists study items left behind by past cultures, they may be more aware of the things that do and do not “fit” naturally in the landscape, Hughes explains. That which doesn’t seem to fit may be evidence of past human activity. The ability to identify that activity is what makes them indispensable to a major cleanup.
On the job as a cultural anthropologist and archaeologist, Roberts identifies, examines and documents physical evidence of cultures to make sure they are protected during highway expansions, real estate development, demolitions and other activities. The owner of Roberts-CRM, (the CRM stands for Cultural Resource Management), he has embarked on many professional adventures, including as a civilian archaeologist for the U.S. Army, examining military testing and training sites for Native American artifacts and other items.
Wasinger, a bio-archaeologist, does the same kind of work, but her focus includes biological artifacts, such as human bones. She has identified, examined and documented human remains for a variety of projects, including a study of 10 historic cemeteries in South-Central Kansas, drawing on her background in archaeology and criminology. She has often worked with – and for – Roberts.
“I found out the Mississippi division of the National Park Service needed people to help with the beaches on some of the Barrier Islands, which are still dealing with oil from the spill,” Roberts says. “I contacted Julie, because it sounded like something right up her alley.”
Not the first, but the largest of its kind to date, the Deepwater Horizon oil spill presents tremendous challenges in terms of cleanup. More than 4,000 miles of shoreline along the Gulf of Mexico are directly affected. The massive explosion on April 20, 2010 that killed 11 drilling rig workers and seriously injured 16 led to an 87-day blowout of the Maconda oil well, a mile below the surface of the Gulf of Mexico. As a result, according to U.S. Department of Interior estimates, approximately 4.9 million barrels of oil poured into the ocean.
And so the massive cleanup began.
BP, in agreement with the U.S. government, set up a $20-billion trust to settle claims and cover cleanup. The National Park Service, on behalf of the DOI, responded immediately to the disaster, deploying incident management personnel to prepare for and respond to oil impacts along the Gulf Coast. The NPS continues to oversee and coordinate strategies to combat the ongoing buildup of oil on Gulf beaches. It’s a big job, to say the least, and natural forces are not always cooperative.
“BP tried many techniques to remove the oil from the ocean. One was a chemical dispersant, which clings to the oil and makes it sink to the sea floor,” Roberts says. “When a storm comes up – Hurricane Isaac is a good example – the water is churned all the way to the bottom of the ocean and that thick oil rises up and is carried to shore by the waves.”
To keep on top of the oil that continually comes ashore, sometimes as a thin sheen, sometimes in tarry clumps, the Barrier Islands are cleaned in seven-day cycles. Wasinger and Roberts, as resource advisors (READs), use their expertise working with technicians and other members of cleanup teams that spend long, grueling hours carefully examining and decontaminating shoreline, section by fragile section.
The Barrier Islands on which they work (Wasinger at Cat Island and Roberts at Ship Island) are rich with cultural artifacts, historic sites and biological wonders. Following the mission of the NPS “to preserve and protect” and the standards of the National Historic Preservation Act, they work to ensure that artifacts and sites are treated as historic valuables.
“There’s a lot of history in these islands,” Wasinger says. “We document existing sites to make sure they aren’t being destroyed and that items aren’t being removed from the area. The cleanup teams are very dedicated, but they are trained to remove the oil. It’s our job to watch for and document natural and cultural resources and work with the spill techs to make sure things are handled correctly and that nobody walks where they shouldn’t.”
The READ is one member of a team that also includes the boat captain, a deckhand, a foreman and a spill tech crew of three or more. A typical workday for the team means rising at 3:30 a.m., driving 45 minutes, then embarking on a 40-minute boat ride to the island. Only then, at about 7 a.m., does the work actually begin.
“We help the captain guide the boat into areas without damaging sea grass or the sea floor,” Wasinger says. “Then we begin carefully observing: potential artifacts, nesting areas, dead marine life – we document everything and advise the crews on how to proceed. And we advise about changes in the work plan to help the crew avoid hazardous conditions. You’ve got to be on your toes.”
Trained in handling hazardous materials and dressed in protective gear, spill techs clean the beaches, a handful of sand at a time, guided by the READ.
“They sift through the sand with these sifters, like a long-handled flour sifter,” Wasinger explains. “They know what to look for, usually by the color of the sand. And I’m not kidding you. The foreman on my team can smell the oil in the sand.” READs are not allowed to handle the dangerous decontaminants. The work requires extreme concentration on the part of the READ, because due to weather conditions and the ocean, the environment is constantly changing.
Crews carefully examine and clean, putting in long days that can last as late at 7 p.m. Then they return to the mainland, drive home, hit the hay, wake up at 3:30 a.m. and start all over again: seven days a week, 15 days at a time. The work is physically demanding and tedious, but ultimately rewarding.
“It makes me feel good that I’m watching out for our precious cultural resources,” Roberts says. “The scope of the BP project is overwhelming. It is amazing that dozens of contractors, state and local agencies, and the federal government can work together to actually get anything done. It is a massive task and will take many years, probably decades, to complete.”
“I love what I’m doing,” Wasinger says. “I get to educate the crew. When I tell them they can’t walk somewhere, I explain exactly why. They are eager to learn. And I’ve made lasting friendships.”
Roberts worked on the cleanup throughout the month of August. When his current project, a heritage study for the Quapaw Tribe in conjunction with EcoSystem Management Inc., is complete (likely in early 2013), he hopes to return to Mississippi and another assignment with the NPS.
Wasinger, who has been working for the Mississippi division since March 2012, will continue her assignment with the NPS for an undetermined time. “They told me to plan to be here for awhile,” she says. “I hope this job ends, because that means we did our job and the cleanup is over, but when that happens, I will miss it.
“In spite of the hard work and long hours, I feel like I am helping out in an important way.”
Wasinger and Roberts are at work decomtaminating island beaches suffering the effects of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill.
