Pubdate: Wed, 23 Jul 2014
Source: San Francisco Chronicle (CA)
Copyright: 2014 Hearst Communications Inc.
Contact: http://www.sfgate.com/chronicle/submissions/#1
Website: http://www.sfgate.com/chronicle/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/388
Page: E2
Note: Los Angeles Times

POT RAIDS HELP YUROK INDIANS TAKE BACK LAND

WEITCHPEC, Humboldt County - First, the out-of-state license plates
came to the upper reaches of the Yurok Indian Reservation, followed by
dump trucks of fertilizer and heavy equipment that punched roads into
tribal land.

Runaway marijuana cultivation had made it unsafe to hike, pray, gather
medicine and materials for baskets, or prepare sites for ceremonial
dances. Chemical runoff and silt harmed the salmon, and rodenticides
poisoned the rare Humboldt marten and weasellike fisher, which the
Yurok consider sacred.

This year, as growers siphoned water directly from the streams that
feed the Klamath River, persistent menace became imminent crisis:
About 200 households that rely entirely on surface water are now at
risk of running dry - with no alternative supply.

On Monday, after years of effort, the pleas of Yurok tribal leaders
for outside help with eradication were finally answered.

Federal and state agencies launched a huge raid on and around
reservation land that is expected to last more than a week and lead to
the destruction of an estimated 100,000 marijuana plants.

By early Monday evening, only four of the 43 search warrants had been
served. Yet officers working on properties tucked down miles of dusty,
rutted roads had already seized nearly 4,000 plants, stuffing them
into a mobile chipper.

Ten people were detained for questioning, one of them armed with a
Glock. At one tribal property, three people took off on foot after a
motion sensor triggered at the gate. They left a vehicle with Utah
plates and a wallet behind.

"We're doing good," said Yurok Public Safety Chief Leonard Masten. His
next target was a property needed for the upcoming Brush Dance, as
site preparation for the healing ceremony begins Wednesday.

Operation Yurok

Operation Yurok came at the request of tribal leaders and is targeting
properties in the hills whose springs and creeks feed the Klamath River.

The first two targets Monday: a site just off the reservation that
had already been raided five times with few lasting consequences
(officials are hoping to file a federal case this time), and one
where the cultivator had blocked access to ceremonial grounds.

Wearing the widebrimmed hat he never goes without, Yurok Tribal
Chairman Thomas O'Rourke turned out early Monday to say thanks at a
remote fire station where officers were staging.

"They're stealing millions and millions of gallons of water and it's
impacting our ecosystem," he told them. "We can't no longer make it
into our dance places, our women and children can't leave the road to
gather. We can't hunt. We can't live the life we've lived for
thousands of years."

The operation will take down grows "in every direction you can go from
here," Lt. George Cavinta of the Humboldt County Sheriff's Drug Task
Force promised, gesturing to the rugged hills.

The breakthrough came in April when, thanks to urging from the
governor's office, the California National Guard's counter-drug
program stepped in and - along with Cavinta's agency - orchestrated
the raid.

In addition to Yurok police, other participating agencies included the
federal Bureau of Indian Affairs, Bureau of Land Management, Drug
Enforcement Administration, the California Department of Justice's
North State Marijuana Investigation Team, and the California
Department of Fish & Wildlife.

Irrigation pipe

By Monday afternoon, with the raided sites secured, state
environmental scientists were tracking irrigation pipe and scouring
the hills near a large community water tank to create a forensic map
of just how growers were tapping in.

The crisis, O'Rourke said, was long in building.

Though growers in the region once "brought their fertilizer in batches
in the dark," dump trucks now entered reservation land with impunity,
he said.

Bald Hills Road, a route of stunning switchbacks that connects the
upper reservation to tribal headquarters in Klamath, used to be
traveled almost exclusively by tribal members, O'Rourke said. Now,
"it's 1 in 10 that I recognize and every fifth car is an out-of-state
plate," he said.

The seriousness of the problem became undeniable last summer, when
residents in the hills around the tiny tribal, one-store town of
Weitchpec began complaining of plummeting water pressure. Tanks that
were full on a Friday would be nearly empty by Monday, Masten said.

When tribal staff surveyed the land from a U.S. Coast Guard
helicopter, they were startled at the number of grows.

Then the drought intensified. When the marijuana crop was planted in
late spring, community water gauges abruptly swung low once again. And
this time, creeks ran dry.

"Streams I've seen in prior years with more severe droughts where
water ran, there's no water now," O'Rourke said.

To strengthen its enforcement abilities, the tribal council last fall
approved a new controlled substance ordinance that allows authorities
to seize cash and items such as vehicles and generators in
circumstances where cultivation has harmed the environment.
(Proposition 215 - the state medical marijuana law - is not honored by
the tribe on reservation land.)

For the Yurok, the damage is multifaceted. Sediment and chemical
runoff have suffocated juvenile fish, and warmer, shallower water has
triggered an increase in Ceratomyxa shasta, a parasite that targets
salmon.

The danger of encroaching on a guarded grow site has made it unwise to
visit springs that tribal members have enjoyed for generations. But
the infringement on ceremonial dance sites has hit closest to home.

Virtual 'prisoners'

"We are coming close to being prisoners in our own land," O'Rourke
said. "Everything we stand for, everything we do is impacted."

On Saturday night, as the raid loomed, he and Masten were among
participants in a Brush Dance - a ceremony held for the health and
vibrancy of a child. At a village site near the mouth of the river,
tribal members entered the dance pit in groups throughout the night as
a medicine woman and two helpers tended to a young mother and her infant 
boy.

After Sunday's sunrise, they donned elaborate regalia passed down for
generations: Otter-skin arrow quivers intricately adorned with
woodpecker scalps. Dresses of abalone and dentillium shells.
Intricately woven basket hats.

The Brush Dance is hosted by family groups, and the frequency of the
ceremonies has increased in recent years as the tribe reconnects with
its language and culture, and more young people participate.

"I think this is not only a strong opportunity to take back our land
but to set an example that the tribe has got a zero tolerance policy"
toward cultivation, Masten said. "Whether you're an Indian or a
non-Indian, you've got to go."

Rose Sylvia, 57, who lives downriver from Weitchpec, agreed that it's
time for tribal members to make their voices heard. She went on a trip
earlier this year and came home to find an outsider planting a post on
her road to put up a gate.

Though her parents always left the house unlocked for any stranger who
might be "hungry or thirsty," now that's out of the question. She
recently asked her partner for a bittersweet Christmas gift: a gun, to
help her feel safer when home alone.

Added Josh Norris, 41, a Yurok tribal member and community organizer:
"There are elders living near some of these grows with no telephone
and without reliable transportation, and they're scared."

Seeing the law enforcement presence Monday, he said, "it just feels
like, wow, somebody finally cares."
- ---
MAP posted-by: Matt