The Dark Side of Alaska: Colin Stutz Reports From the Exxon Valdez Oil Spill

NOTE: We sent members of the I'm From Rolling Stone cast into the field to document America's eco-disasters. The result is a series of four reports from around the country. See a full-index of their work and tell us what you think here.

I t has been almost two decades since the Exxon Valdez ran aground in Alaska, spilling more than 11 million gallons of oil into the waters of Prince William Sound. The poisonous black sludge killed thousands of fish and birds and contaminated Alaska's coastline, causing irrevocable damage to the surrounding ecosystems. "While the Exxon Valdez was not the largest in terms of volume of oil spills," says Rick Steiner, a marine conservation specialist at the University of Alaska, "it was certainly the most damaging oil spill in human history."

That's because the contamination continues to this day. Although $3.2 billion has been spent on clean-up efforts -- and ExxonMobil insists that "Prince William Sound is healthy, robust and thriving" -- the Valdez spill still plagues the environment. According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, as many as 85 tons of oil will linger along parts of Alaska's shore for at least another twenty years. "The Sound is like a cancer patient," says Riki Ott, a marine biologist who has studied the spill. "The cancer may occupy just a little part of the body, but it can take out the whole body."

A visit to one of the northern bays of Knight Island reveals a dead zone: There's an unnatural silence that hovers over the bay. "It's like a graveyard out there," says Dune Lankard, a native fisherman from Cordova, a nearby fishing town that endured an extreme economic downturn in the wake of the spill. "You don't hear the birds -- you just don't have the sounds from the wildlife any more, and it will be a long time until you do."

It's not hard, standing on the coastline, to demonstrate that oil remains: Simply dig a hole in the sandy shore. As water fills up the hole, a greasy sheen quickly covers the surface. It is slick to the touch and smells like a mechanic's shop -- a shockingly industrial element in the midst of such seemingly unspoiled surroundings. According to a 2001 study funded by the Exxon Valdez Oil Spill Trustee Council (EVOSTC), approximately twenty acres of shoreline are still contaminated with oil -- the linear equivalent of 3.6 miles. "What we have found is that this lingering oil is really harmful," says Ott. "Once you get oil on the beaches, you've had a tremendous impact on the wildlife."

The EVOSTC estimates that the spill killed 250,000 seabirds, 2,800 sea otters, 300 harbor seals, 250 bald eagles, as many as 22 orcas, and billions of salmon and herring eggs. Only a third of the plant and animal groups affected by the spill have fully recovered, and some -- like the region's herring population -- have actually seen their numbers significantly plummet. Scientists with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration have discovered that 400 parts per trillion of the spilled oil is enough to kill herring eggs -- meaning that even an oily sheen on a puddle would prove toxic to the unborn fish. As a result, what was once an essential cornerstone of the sound's fishing industry, as well as a crucial link in its food chain, has now withered to a state of disrepair. According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, the area's herring stock crashed in 1993 from an expected 120,000 tons to barely 16,000 tons -- well below the 20,000 tons needed to sustain the ecosystem in Prince William Sound.