5. Canada’s Promise
As enlightenment about the dangers of PCBs created an international urgency to pay dearly to part with the chemicals, those chemicals were targeted by ReChem. Despite the fortune awaiting a recipient, there was no glut of countries or companies wishing to compete in the high toxicity end of the waste disposal business. Quite the reverse, the revulsion for the chemicals was so great that some governments felt that no amount of financial reward was worth the hassle of dealing with the waste domestically. Paying to send it far away was frequently the preferred option. This was seen by some as commendable operation of the free market yet by others, perhaps more honestly, as simply an opportunistic self-centred choice.Whatever the excuse for the hypocrisy, it appeared that the number of countries willing to import toxic waste was dwindling whilst the number wishing to export it was going up. With there being greater awareness of the issue in Canada than in the UK, I viewed the arrival of the Canadian PCBs in Britain as a natural consequence of divergent national attitudes.
Canada was clearly one of those countries who preferred to pay dearly to offload PCBs, having experienced the political consequences and remedial costs for the problems that came with keeping the chemicals. It was there that an environmental scandal was said to have contributed to the outcome of an election. On the grapevine in the summer of 1985, I received news of a PCB spill in Kenora, Ontario, which had occurred during the previous April. A scrapped Hydro-Quebec transformer, being trucked by Gerald Gerke’s impressively named Kinetic Ecological Resource Group, from Alberta to Quebec, spilled about 100 gallons of PCBs intermittently along Trans-Canada highway 71. The road was closed and a long detour was put in place. The Toronto Star said that the controversial way that the spill was dealt with may have helped create the swing to Canadian Liberals in the May 2nd provincial election. Initially, to seal in the toxins, a tar cap was spread over a long stretch of the road. A $50,000 fine was issued in 1986 and seven-figure damages were sought by the authorities, but Gerke’s Kinetic company went out of existence. However he continued his association with PCBs, and with euphemistic company titles, at the International Environmental Materials Corporation. And with that came the Rechem connection, for it was I.E.M. who blazed a trail to Pontypool with regular shipments of PCBs from Montreal before Dynamis Envirotech landed the $7.9 million contract from the Quebec government to remove the PCBs stockpile from St-Basile-le-Grande in 1989.Following the 1985 PCB spill on highway 71 and after initially capping the road surface, the Progressive Conservative minority Government proposed ripping a 1 inch deep layer for 45 miles, then dumping contaminated tarmac locally whilst exempting the affair from a public inquiry. In a reaction to the spill, Morley Kells, the Environment Minister, commented that only a rat would be at risk from the PCBs. The glib remark captured headlines across Canada, and the dumping proposal was regarded as a serious political gaff. A tree blockade was erected by local women on the dirt road to the proposed dump and there were strong protests from the Grassy Narrows Indian Reserve, with claims that the problem was not one for Ontario to solve. Kells lost his seat in the May election when the provincial government was ousted and this all happened in the year that I.E.M. began shipping both PCBs and PCB contaminated equipment to ReChem.There had once been a proposal for a Montreal firm to build a $15m storage depot and incinerator at Senneterre in North-western Quebec, but the plan had stalled. The Quebec government did give permission for the storage of waste but the prospect of its incineration suffered from procrastination as the stimulation of Canadian sensitivity to PCBs, through the Kenora scandal, put me on guard too
Years down the road and weeks before I was sued, Canadian PCBs were providing front page headlines again; initially in Britain before resounding again in Canada. On Friday 28th July 1989 the Daily Star’s banner was “Stop Ship of Death”. Prior to that, plenty of Canadian PCBs had crossed the Atlantic in spite of our protests, so something had to have changed to bring this particular shipment into international headlines. Greenpeace’s massive 1990 tome The International Trade in Waste begins to explain:
In January 1989 the Canadian Government wrote to David Powell, a British campaigner against ReChem in Pontypool, South Wales, assuring him that the PCB contaminated remains of the fire at the storage facility in St. Basile-le-Grand . . . will not be exported from Canada. However, the government later went back on its assurance.
The letter of interest was sent to me long after I’d been attracted to a radio news item. Portending my troubles, BBC’s Radio 4 broadcast news of a blaze on the night of August 23rd, 1988 at the PCB waste storage depot in St-Basile-le-Grand, near Montreal. Thousands of people were evacuated due to concern over contamination by both the PCBs and the dioxins produced in the fire.When I heard the news of the fire I had a premonition of Canada expecting Pontypool to deal with the aftermath of the PCB fire, so I alerted Welsh television to it. HTV’s interview of Martin Clermont of I.E.M. in Canada confirmed my suspicions about Canadian thoughts on the future of the waste. I quickly wrote to the High Commissioner in London. In my letter I gave a comprehensive presentation of thirteen reasons why the waste should not be sent to us. Amongst the reasons were that local residents and their politicians would be against it, that people had petitioned the government for a public inquiry into ReChem and that the local Council had instigated legal action in connection with emissions from the plant. I asked for Canada to suspend exportation of all such materials to Pontypool. Perhaps Donald MacDonald appreciated the implications; for in due course he wrote back saying the matter would be dealt with by the Canadian government. Months later, on 31st January 1989, Holly Martel of Canada’s Environment Ministry responded. The second paragraph of the governmental letter began: “As you may know, the export of PCBs from Canada to Britain has been an ongoing entrepreneurial endeavour for several years.”The early gambit appeared to be preparing me for bad news. In total contrast, what followed was far better than I expected and with commendable clarity, the letter continued:
The PCB-contaminated remains of the fire at the storage facility in St. Basile-le-Grande, however, will not be exported from Canada.
As soon as I saw the “not” in the letter, I knew that my main request had been granted, but in the words following there was a bonus. Not only would the St Basile waste not come to South Wales, it wouldn’t be exported to any other country either. The only disappointment related to my additional request for Canada to stop exporting any type of hazardous waste, to the UK or anywhere else, since Holly Martel rejected an embargo on other waste exports with the disclaimer:
Officials from the British Ministry of the Environment have assured Environment Canada that ReChem International Limited’s operation at Pontypool is satisfactory . . . . In the meantime, please be assured that any hazardous substances that are exported from Canada comply with all national and international regulations.
In the knowledge that Quebec’s PCBs were staying put, between late winter and the summer of 1989 I concentrated on other aspects of the campaign.However, without my knowing that things had changed, under the strain of domestic pressures, the Canadian government’s promise to keep the waste was creaking. When elections were due, the Quebec Environment Ministry had assured voters that the St-Basile material would be dealt with within a year. However, the political difficulties of dealing with it internally brushed integrity aside and the national government struck a deal to ship the 1500 tonnes to Pontypool at great cost to Canadian taxpayers. As an indication of the desperation to offload the waste there was a penalty clause enforcing a time ultimatum on the completion of the contract. At the end of July, when I discovered that the waste was on its way here, I immediately turned up my letter from the Canadian Environment Ministry to remind myself of what it said. On checking, I confirmed that the promise was unequivocal. It definitely said, “The PCB-contaminated remains of the fire at the storage facility in St. Basil-le-Grande, however, will not be exported from Canada.” The word “not” wasn’t just wishful thinking on my part. On 28th July, I contacted Paul Starling of HTV. Paul had been consistently interested in the ReChem issue. I knew that he would have remembered the St. Basile fire and I thought he would appreciate the significance of what was happening nearly a year on from it. He instantly understood and he acted fast.Early that evening the Canadian government’s letter to me was shown on TV. The following day the headline in Cardiff’s Western Mail said “Canada Breaks PCB Vow”.Adding authenticity, the newspaper’s front page also showed a sizeable photograph of the letter. The story of the broken promise shot back across the Atlantic. Not for the first time for Canada, PCBs were turning out to be politically embarrassing poisons.The letter I’d pulled out from my planked filing system created frenzy in the Canadian media and simultaneously launched the Canadian and British governments into damage limitation exercises. That letter from was the most powerful piece of paper I had ever possessed.
I went through the motions of writing to Canada’s High Commissioner again, but my more important aim was to inform the Canadian public, through the country’s media. The vehicle for doing that was to be a long letter from me. It would be difficult to write at home because of incoming attention, so I found a sanctuary along the Welsh Coast.With family and friends sheltering from the sea breeze amongst rocks on a beach at the Gower Peninsula, I got to work. Uninterrupted, I wrote the letter addressed to “The People of Canada” with the aim of creating internal pressure on the Canadian Government. Next I needed a strategy to deliver my message to the maximum number of media outlets. I decided that I would be the postman, travel to London, knock on doors and deliver the letter in person. Coincidentally my brother-in-law Alex, a surfer, was soon planning to drive to Dover to have camper-style windows cut into the side of his Volkswagen van. His arrangement was just about perfect for my schedule and we left at four in the morning on Monday 7th August. He dropped me off at a roundabout near the M25 with a large pub in sight. We arranged that he would collect me at the pub in the evening, on his way back from Dover. After wishing him on his way I soon managed to thumb a lift that took me to Hyde Park corner, from where I walked to the offices of Greenpeace in Islington. I’d made such good time that it was still a bit early when I arrived and the office wasn’t open. When the first person with a key came along I explained what I was up to, asking if I could have somewhere to sit so that I could plan my route. I’d brought a detailed map, so I went to a quiet corner of the office with my list of addresses and my map. Everything was going well even if my route planning wasn’t going without interruption. Amongst those who tracked me to the Greenpeace office was Radio 1’s Newsbeat and in crossing over from Radio 4 to a pop music station, the Canadian waste issue was multiplying its audience and becoming top viral. When Greenpeace’s Andy Booth arrived at the office he took me off to a nearby café as a precaution against bugging before putting me in the picture about the Tilbury docks action that was to come in a couple of days. The timing would make it a perfect curtain-raiser for our Liverpool trip.
I set off from the Islington office to make over a dozen visits with about 20 miles to cover. In T-shirt, shorts and trainers I was ready to run if necessary. With my confidence high, although I was cold-calling at newsdesks I received plenty of warm welcomes. The British broadsheet newspapers and the BBC were on my list for deliveries, but I was more eager to contact the Canadians and I knew they were very interested in what I was doing. When I got to the Canadian Broadcasting Company’s office there was obvious excitement. My contacts at Associated Press House were equally receptive and I was persuaded to wait in the seat of journalist Jim Sheppard until he came back from lunch. It was worth the wait, for when I left Jim I felt sure that my “Letter to the People of Canada”, with its plea to Canadians to influence their government, would soon be in the news on the other side of the Atlantic.
The last of my un-announced engagements was late in the afternoon, at the High Commission, with Canadian diplomat Ronnie MacLellan - who was surprisingly generous with her comments. She admitted that her High Commission had been in the dark over the waste deal and she appeared genuinely concerned about the underhandedness of the affair. Although she reiterated her government’s intention to now export the waste, on the grounds that Canada’s own incinerator was overloaded, she offered advice on how I should pursue the issue. I didn’t buy her excuse for exportation as I’d only just read in the Montreal Gazette that it was internal sensitivity to waste movement, more than incinerator overloading, which got in the way of disposal within Canada,. It looked to me as if the Swan Hills incinerator simply would not take waste from beyond Alberta’s boundary. Nevertheless, in both the courtesy and the comments from the High Commission I saw some encouraging signs of understanding.
At the end of the afternoon, now adding to the twenty miles I’d walked, the first stage of my journey back to Wales was a long walk west out of London, before getting on a bus to rendezvous with Alex at the pub near the M25. He wasn’t there at the ten o’clock we’d estimated, but I was happy to sip beer until the pub closed. When that time approached, and with mobile ‘phones still in the future, I rang home from the pub to tell my Denise that if Alex should contact her, I would soon be waiting outside. When the pub did close, the uplift I’d got from delivering copies of my “Letter to the people of Canada” began to run down. By half-past midnight the sunny day had turned into a really cold night and shivering, I wrote a large note saying “Alex, I’ve started to walk down Stanwell Moor Road towards Heathrow airport - for a warm, not a plane.” Luckily, Alex arrived as I was looking for somewhere prominent to place the note. I took over the driving, he fell asleep and I kept awake by fast-forwarding two days to Tilbury and the Khudozhnik Saryan.