From a Rowboat on the Gorge to the Fight for the Salish Sea
The story of the Veins of Life Watershed Society, the Dead Boats Disposal Society, and the volunteers who refused to accept that polluted waters were beyond repair
More than thirty years ago, a father and his young son climbed into a small rowboat on Victoria’s Gorge Waterway and started pulling garbage from the water.
There was no government program behind us. There was no large environmental organization, professional communications team or long-term funding agreement.
There was a rowboat, some rope, a pair of hands and the belief that something had to be done.
The Gorge was beautiful, but decades of industry, sewage, stormwater runoff, shoreline destruction and neglect had taken their toll. Shopping carts, tires, engine blocks, pieces of docks and abandoned machinery lay in the water. Pollution was carried into the Gorge through storm drains and creeks. Eelgrass, shellfish, herring and salmon habitat had been damaged or lost.
Many people had become accustomed to the decline. The Gorge was treated as a drainage ditch, a dumping ground and somebody else’s problem.
We could not accept that.
That small cleanup effort by John and Wesley Roe began in 1994. Friends joined us. Divers volunteered. Businesses supplied equipment. Residents helped along the shoreline. Industry provided barges, cranes, machinery and people who knew how to use them.
By 1996, the growing group of volunteers had become the Veins of Life Watershed Society.
The name reflects a simple truth: creeks, rivers, wetlands, shorelines and tidal waters are the veins that carry life through a landscape. When those veins are contaminated, buried or blocked, the entire ecosystem suffers.
Our mission was never simply to make the shoreline look cleaner.
Our mission was to restore the living system.
The Gorge is not just a strip of water
The Gorge Waterway cannot be understood by looking only at the water between its banks.
It is connected to Portage Inlet, Victoria Harbour, Rock Bay, Selkirk Water, Cecelia Creek, Colquitz River, Craigflower Creek and dozens of smaller drainage systems and stormwater outfalls. What happens kilometres away on a road, industrial property, parking lot or residential lot can eventually reach the intertidal zone.
That is why the Veins of Life Watershed Society adopted a watershed-based approach from the beginning.
We worked from the upper reaches of the Colquitz and Craigflower systems, through Portage Inlet and the Gorge, into the Upper and Inner Harbour and toward the open waters beyond Ogden Point.
We organized shoreline and underwater cleanups, investigated pollution sources, supported stream assessments, restored riparian areas, worked with schools and youth crews, promoted spill reporting and helped identify sanitary-sewer and storm-drain cross-connections.
Our Environmental Youth Teams and Stream Teams gave young people field experience assessing streams, monitoring water, restoring habitat and learning that environmental protection is not an abstract idea. It is work done with boots, gloves, shovels, sampling equipment and careful records.
The Cecelia Creek work became one of our most important early projects.
The creek had been pushed underground and turned, in many places, into little more than part of the urban drainage system. It carried fecal contamination, metals and other pollution toward the Gorge. Our teams surveyed the watershed, worked with residents and businesses, conducted dye testing, documented cross-connections and supported restoration and daylighting efforts.
We also worked on water-quality monitoring, spill reporting, downspout-disconnection initiatives, storm-drain education, stream restoration and the investigation of industrial contamination around Rock Bay.
Rock Bay demonstrated what happens when contamination is ignored for generations. Coal tar, petroleum products, metals and industrial chemicals did not disappear when the industries changed or the pollution was covered over. They remained in the soil, groundwater and harbour sediments.
Our work helped keep public attention on those conditions and on the need for a genuine cleanup. A major remediation eventually followed, but Rock Bay also taught us something that has guided our work ever since:
There is little value in spending millions to clean contaminated sediment if polluted stormwater is allowed to contaminate it again.
Source control must come first, remain in place during cleanup and continue long after the contractors leave.
The day people returned to the water
When we began, many people thought the idea of swimming in the Gorge again was ridiculous.
We set a public goal anyway: by the year 2000, people would return to the Gorge for a major swimming event.
The cleanup grew. Divers pulled debris from the bottom. Volunteers worked the banks. Businesses donated equipment and labour. Government departments, community associations, environmental professionals and local residents became involved.
Within the first years, tens of tonnes of debris were removed.
Then, in August 2000, the Gorge hosted an international swim event—the first major organized swimming event there in roughly sixty-five years.
It was more than a race.
It was a declaration that an urban waterway written off as an open sewer and industrial dumping ground could begin to live again.
The swim belonged to every person who hauled a tire, removed a shopping cart, surveyed a creek, tested a drain, donated fuel, supplied a crane, planted a stream bank, staffed an information table or convinced a neighbour that recovery was possible.
It showed what communities can accomplish when they stop waiting for somebody else to act.
But it was never the end of the story.
A waterway may look cleaner while contamination remains in its sediments. A beach may pass a temporary fecal-bacteria test while stormwater continues carrying metals, petroleum compounds, pesticides, tire chemicals, PCBs, dioxins, furans and endocrine-disrupting substances into the ecosystem.
Restoration cannot be measured only by whether people can swim on a sunny afternoon.
It must also be measured by whether the mud is safe for children to explore, whether eelgrass and forage fish can reproduce, whether salmon can survive, and whether the food web is becoming healthier rather than steadily accumulating contaminants.
From the watershed to the whales
As our work expanded, we followed the water outward into the Salish Sea.
The Veins of Life Watershed Society developed the Marine Mammal Monitoring Program, known as M3, to promote stewardship of whales, other marine mammals, seabirds and critical habitat.
M3 operated in the transboundary waters around southern Vancouver Island, the southern Gulf Islands and the San Juan Islands. Crews monitored marine-mammal and whale-watching activity, distributed responsible-viewing guidance to recreational boaters and commercial operators, and helped build public awareness of vessel disturbance, underwater noise, pollution and habitat loss.
M3 was not simply about watching whales.
It was about changing human behaviour around them.
The program also participated with The Whale Museum’s Soundwatch Program in the Luna Stewardship Project.
Luna, or L98, was a young Southern Resident killer whale who became separated from his family and remained in Nootka Sound. His unusual willingness to approach people and boats put him at serious risk.
The stewardship teams educated boaters, monitored his behaviour and tried to reduce interactions that could further separate Luna from life as a wild whale.
Luna’s story was joyful, complicated and ultimately heartbreaking. It reinforced what we already understood: admiration for wildlife is not enough. Loving an animal does not give us the right to crowd it, touch it, feed it, chase it or reshape its behaviour for our entertainment.
Real stewardship sometimes means keeping our distance.
The dead boats problem
During decades of shoreline work, we repeatedly encountered abandoned, wrecked and sunken vessels.
A dead boat is not merely an eyesore.
It may contain fuel, oil, batteries, electrical equipment, treated wood, plastics, fibreglass, sewage, asbestos, paint, metals and years of accumulated garbage. Once the hull breaks apart, those materials spread through beaches, eelgrass beds, mudflats and the water column.
The longer a vessel is left in place, the more difficult and expensive its removal becomes.
Government responsibility was badly divided. One agency dealt with navigation, another with pollution, another with fisheries, another with the seabed and another with waste disposal. Owners disappeared. Communities were told to wait. Boats were often left until they sank, broke apart or washed onto shore.
In 2017, after years of dealing with vessels through the Veins of Life Watershed Society, we helped establish the Dead Boats Disposal Society.
The new society concentrated on research, inventory, assessment, legal seizure, removal, remediation and safe disposal of abandoned vessels and marine debris.
This work required more than volunteers with pickup trucks.
It required divers, barges, cranes, excavators, hazardous-materials testing, disposal planning and people who understood salvage, marine operations and industrial safety.
Our long relationship with the Ralmax Group of Companies and our work with Salish Sea Industrial Services made those larger operations possible. Salish Sea Industrial Services is a partnership involving the Songhees Nation, Esquimalt Nation and Ralmax, bringing together Indigenous ownership, skilled trades, industrial capacity and marine equipment.
Together with those partners, government programs, coastal communities and many local contractors and volunteers, the work expanded from Greater Victoria into the Gulf Islands and other parts of the British Columbia coast.
Projects have included the Gorge Waterway, Cadboro Bay, Sooke Harbour, Cowichan Bay, Ganges Harbour, Long Harbour, Fulford Harbour, Burgoyne Bay, Gabriola Island, Pender Island and other coastal locations.
By the time John Roe appeared before the House of Commons Standing Committee on Fisheries and Oceans in 2024, he reported participating with partners in the removal of more than 500 vessels over his lifetime, including more than 250 through provincial and federal programs, along with hundreds of tonnes of marine garbage.
Those numbers do not belong to one person or one organization.
They represent crane operators, divers, boat crews, shoreline residents, First Nations, community associations, government staff, donors, businesses, landfill operators, recyclers and volunteers.
They represent people who answered the phone when a vessel was sinking instead of passing the call to somebody else.
A little about me
My name is John Roe.
I am a mechanic and tradesman by background, not someone who began with a career plan in environmental management.
I worked as a motorcycle and marine mechanic, welder, plumber, electrician and industrial worker. I understood machinery, boats, pumps, pipes, engines and the practical side of getting difficult jobs done.
I also knew what pollution looked and smelled like.
When Wesley and I began pulling garbage from the Gorge, I had no idea it would become more than thirty years of work. I had not expected to spend my days reading technical reports, studying environmental law, speaking before councils, meeting ministers, challenging government departments or appearing before Parliament.
But once you learn how a watershed works, you cannot pretend that the contamination disappears when it enters a pipe.
Once you see a boat breaking apart in an eelgrass bed, you cannot unsee it.
Once you understand how pollutants move from a street to an outfall, from the outfall to sediment, from sediment into small organisms, from those organisms into fish and from fish into whales, it becomes difficult to accept delay as an answer.
I have sometimes been described as the person who cleaned up the Gorge.
That is not the true story.
The true story is that thousands of people cared enough to help.
Volunteers did the dirty work. Supporters provided food, tools, office space, boats, fuel, machinery, technical advice and encouragement. Young people brought energy. Elders brought memory. Scientists brought evidence. Tradespeople and industry brought the ability to move what human hands could not.
No lasting environmental accomplishment belongs to one person.
Why we continue to challenge government
We are grateful for the public servants, elected officials and government programs that have supported portions of this work.
We have also learned that polite concern without implementation does not restore habitat.
Too often, responsibility is divided until nobody is responsible.
A municipality points toward the regional district. The regional district points toward the province. The province points toward the federal government. Federal departments divide the issue among themselves. Everyone produces plans, strategies, guidelines and studies while contaminated runoff continues entering the same receiving waters.
We have spent years asking direct questions about stormwater, sewer cross-connections, contaminated sediments, abandoned vessels, industrial discharges, beach safety and the lack of effective source control.
We have filed information requests, submitted reports, reviewed council minutes, documented outfalls, challenged incomplete investigations and asked regulators to enforce the laws and standards already available to them.
We do this because public relations cannot substitute for pollution prevention.
Building an attractive park over contaminated shoreline does not make the contamination disappear.
Planting a salt marsh beside uncontrolled outfalls is not restoration if the sediment beneath it remains toxic.
Encouraging people to swim while examining only fecal bacteria and ignoring known chemical contamination is not an adequate public-health assessment.
Removing one abandoned vessel while leaving dozens more to sink is not a prevention program.
And cleaning a bay without controlling the pipes that drain into it guarantees that the public will eventually pay to clean it again.
The work before us now
Today, the Veins of Life Watershed Society and the Dead Boats Disposal Society continue to work on several connected fronts.
We are documenting stormwater outfalls and the contaminated sediments around them.
We are pressing municipalities and regulators for enforceable source-control programs, proper inspection, transparent reporting and action on sanitary and storm-sewer cross-connections.
We are calling for contaminants such as metals, PAHs, PCBs, dioxins, furans, petroleum compounds, tire-related chemicals and endocrine disruptors to be treated as ecosystem and public-health concerns—not ignored because routine beach testing concentrates primarily on fecal bacteria.
We are opposing habitat projects that risk burying or disturbing contaminated sediment without first identifying the pollution sources and completing an appropriate risk assessment.
We continue to inventory abandoned vessels and marine debris and advocate for a permanent, coast-wide vessel turn-in, recycling and disposal system. Waiting for boats to sink is the most expensive and environmentally destructive way to manage them.
We are working toward stronger partnerships involving First Nations, marine industry, environmental organizations, scientists, governments and coastal communities.
We are also exploring durable funding for restoration, including blue-carbon and habitat-financing approaches that can direct resources toward eelgrass, kelp, wetlands, intertidal habitat and long-term stewardship.
Our objective is not another short-term cleanup announcement.
It is a permanent system that prevents pollution, removes existing hazards, restores damaged habitat and measures whether ecological conditions are actually improving.
Why the Southern Resident orcas are our final measure
The Southern Resident killer whales are endangered.
Their survival is threatened by reduced availability of their preferred prey, especially Chinook salmon; physical and acoustic disturbance from vessels; and chemical contaminants that accumulate through the marine food web.
Those threats are usually discussed separately.
We see them as one connected system.
A contaminated street drains into a creek.
The creek carries pollution toward an estuary.
The contaminants settle in intertidal sediment and enter worms, shellfish and small fish.
Damaged eelgrass, kelp and nearshore habitat reduce shelter and feeding opportunities for forage fish and juvenile salmon.
Fewer and less healthy salmon return to the sea.
Resident killer whales must work harder to find food while coping with vessel noise, habitat disruption and contaminants stored in their bodies.
That is why our work in a storm drain in Victoria, a creek in Saanich, an industrial shoreline in Rock Bay, a mudflat in the Gorge or a bay filled with abandoned vessels is also orca-recovery work.
The connection is direct:
Protect the watershed.
Protect the intertidal zone.
Protect eelgrass, kelp, herring and sand lance.
Protect juvenile and returning salmon.
Protect Chinook.
Protect the Southern Resident orcas.
The orca is not merely a symbol for a fundraising poster.
It is the final test of whether we are willing to protect an entire living system.
This story belongs to everyone who helped
This blog will document our history, but it will also examine the work that remains unfinished.
We will share photographs, historical records, technical reports, government correspondence, field observations and the stories of the people who participated.
We will celebrate success where success is deserved.
We will also ask difficult questions when agencies, municipalities, industries or organizations fail to protect the public waters entrusted to them.
The purpose is not to attack people.
The purpose is to defend the watershed.
Our volunteers and supporters have already proven that damaged places can recover. The return of swimmers, eelgrass, herring, salmon, seals, herons and eagles to parts of the Gorge showed us what coordinated community action can accomplish.
But past success does not excuse present neglect.
After more than thirty years, we remain committed to the same basic principle that began with a father, a son and a rowboat:
Do not wait for somebody else to save the water.
The Salish Sea is a living system shared by communities, First Nations, wildlife and future generations. It cannot speak at a council meeting, file an information request, demand enforcement or remove a sinking vessel.
People must do that.
That is why we continue.
That is why our supporters and volunteers matter.
And that is why, every day, we keep working toward a Salish Sea where salmon can return, children can safely explore the shoreline and the Southern Resident orcas have a genuine chance to survive.
John R Roe
- Office 250 383 2086
- The Dead Boats Disposal Society
- The Veins of Life Watershed Society
- "Over 30 years of cleanup and restoration have taught me one truth—if you don’t stop the pollution at its source, you’re just sweeping sand in a windstorm. Source control, source control, source control. Then, and only then, do you restore."
— JR Roe. Amen - oshaku shushaku—mistake upon mistake compounds to become the sum total of one's knowledge.
- “Lucid waters and lush mountains are invaluable assets” — i.e., nature (healthy ecosystems) is real wealth, not a trade-off against wealth.
Canada stays strong by standing united—defending democracy, rejecting division, and leading with truth, justice, and integrity. We fight tyranny with resilience, compassion, and an unwavering commitment to a better future.
Thank you
https://salishsearestoration.org/wiki/Salish_Sea
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