By Stephanie Goodwin

I knew I was in the Louisiana bayou when the water hugged the road on both sides. Power lines rose out of this water, trucks were sunk, and fishing boats sat idle. I’m in Grand Isle, Louisiana. Ground zero for the BP Deepwater Horizon oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

The oil rig British Petroleum rented from Transocean exploded on April 20, and is responsible for spilling more than 300 million litres of crude oil. So far.

We take off from the marina in Grand Isle, a tiny sliver of land that juts out through the bayous and into the gulf, our boat loaded with gear and people prepared for the worst. There is a lot to see, our hungry eyes satiated by a sea of unfamiliar sights. As soon as we leave the dock, we are surrounded by a pod of dolphins gently arcing out of the water as though the waters they call home are not toxic.

Greenpeace Canada is here to bear witness to the oil spill that has been raging for more than 70 days. We are here to see firsthand the devastation that British Petroleum’s oil spill has caused.

I am struck by the massive number of boats, people, and equipment involved in the cleanup. Even the national guard is here. The amount of attention and support to this area shouldn’t be surprising. This is, after all, the epicenter of offshore oil development for the continent. BP’s Deepwater Horizon oil platform that sits on the bottom of the ocean is not the only platform in the area—it is merely one of some 3,600, accompanied by 40,000 kilometres of underwater pipeline. If anywhere should be equipped to deal with a disaster, it’s here.

We see hundreds of pelicans on the shores not moving—many have oily black bodies. They are inert under the weight of oil saturating their feathers. Far outnumbering the pelicans, the dolphins and birds are the booms. The booms are supposed to absorb and shepherd the sheens and slicks of oil on the water’s surface. Sadly, they are largely washed up on beaches, wind-wrapped around pilings and floating aimlessly around the bayou as oily water washes over them.

So far, efforts by BP have failed to stop the well from spilling. While a relief well is expected to reach the well in August, if it is not successful there is currently no Plan B. The last time an oil rig—the Ixtoc II—exploded in the Gulf of Mexico, it spilled oil for nine months before it was stopped.

What is clear to me now is large oil spills simply cannot be cleaned up. Oil spills are messy, destructive and don’t follow any rules. When we allow oil in the marine environment, spills are inevitable and the impact upon the environment everlasting. Even today, 21 years later, toxic oil still haunts the Alaskan shorelines where the Exxon Valdez ran aground and spilled 40 million litres of crude oil.

While Canadians see the devastation in gulf on television and in the paper, we have our own looming threats on B.C.’s shores. The Canadian government is considering an Enbridge oil pipeline proposal from the Alberta tar sands to B.C.’s precious Great Bear Rainforest that would bring more than 200 crude oil tankers annually to the region. Another company, Kinder Morgan, has a long-term plan to bring over 200 crude oil tankers annually to the southern West Coast near Vancouver. Today, the company already brings two tar sands oil tankers through Vancouver waters. The B.C. government Energy Plan includes offshore oil and gas development, like the oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico.

The only way to protect our coastline from the same fate as the Exxon Valdez or the BP oil spill is to permanently take all oil tankers and offshore oil development off the table, period. Coastal First Nations have declared tribal law outlawing tar sands oil in their territories. The federal Liberal party announced last week its support for banning crude oil tankers from the north coast. Eighty percent of British Columbians support a coast free of oil tankers. The Canadian government now needs to listen.

A handwritten roadside sign on the way into town says, “BP, how will I feed my children?” We cannot allow our coastline and our people to face the same fate. We bear witness so we can learn.

Stephanie Goodwin is the B.C. director for Greenpeace Canada.