Dirty river creates ‘ghost town’
Even a slow, sweltering summer’s day can’t lure people into the polluted Selwyn River.
It appears poor water quality at places like Coes Ford – usually a popular Canterbury camping spot during the Christmas holidays – has turned the area into a virtual ghost town.
When The Press visited on a hot day, most of the children at Selwyn Huts were indoors or at the playground.
Two bravely launched a boat. They floated quietly up the river, through the tangled mats of green slime, under strict instructions not to touch the water.
They had already swum that day; not in the river beneath them, but at the Selwyn Aquatic Centre, about 20 kilometres away in Rolleston.
‘‘That kind of sums it up, really,’’ said Hamish Bills, whose family has been visiting Selwyn Huts since 1930.
The river’s collapse has unified the community, which began as a fishing village in the late 19th century. Until recently, the water was deceptively clear. Invisible pollutants such as E coli and diffuse nitrates had flowed undetected to the naked eye.
But now the lower Selwyn wears its problems, through its broth-like consistency and the green scum clinging to its surface. The issue has become too obvious to ignore.
‘‘You can’t avoid it. Everyone’s aware of it now,’’ Bills said. ‘‘We’re sort of making up our minds as to how long we’ll stay here.
‘‘It’s sort of lost what it had. Most of the attraction was the river . . . It was the best swimming water around, I reckon, and now it’s probably some of the worst.’’
Only a few children ever brave the river, even on the hottest days, when temperatures soar above 30 degrees Celsius. The river still has the furniture of a great swimming spot – a jetty floats out to the deeper part of the river, and a rope swing arcs high above the water.
‘‘My kids are probably the last ones that go in there, but that’s probably because they’re sort of immune to it,’’ said Erin Coffey, who lives permanently at the huts with her three children.
She had swum in the river from age two and has distinct memories of long summer days in the water, sticking her head below cold, crystal water.
‘‘It’s the worst I’ve seen it. It’s changed the whole dynamic of coming here. There are a lot of benefits here other than the river, but it is a shame the river is like it is.’’ It gets worse further upstream. At Coes Ford, a place synonymous with picnics and camping, the river barely exists.
Its ankle-deep water has vomited slime onto the banks. A sign warns there’s a ‘‘high risk’’ of toxic algae.
‘‘Kids used to come here and swim, make little pools. Nobody came down this time,’’ said Des Sauthen, who parks his house bus at Coes Ford from time to time. ‘‘It’s just deteriorated really drastically.’’ In the 10 years he had been going to Coes Ford, the place had changed considerably, he said.
Even students from Lincoln University no longer came to a secluded part of the river for their annual booze-up; it had been all but abandoned.
Another local parked near the river said he had lived nearby for 18 years, and it had never been worse.
‘‘In the last three years I haven’t seen the river clear, and I used to see it clear all the time,’’ he said. ‘‘You used to be able to see the bottom and now it’s got that green tinge to it.’’
Three years of drought had done a number on Coes Ford, Environment Canterbury (ECan) chief scientist Tim Davie said.
‘‘Groundwater levels in this area are at record low levels, which directly affects the springfed streams like the lower Selwyn,’’ he said. ‘‘The past two winters have seen virtually no recharge, which is unusual. We did have plenty of rain in the spring but it was all taken up by the soils and plants growing and didn’t reach groundwater.’’
Many locals put the blame elsewhere – the dairy farms sucking water from the river to turn their brown paddocks green.
Davie said it contributed, but the amount taken by farmers was dwarfed by what would have recharged in a normal winter. The river would improve in the coming years, he said. There was a prohibition on more irrigation consents in the area, and farmers were moving to alpine river sources.
New Year’s Day used to be memorable at Selwyn Huts.
Children would leap out of bed for the running races at the domain, pop home for lunch, then into the river for swimming and raft races until dusk.
This year, the river was basically empty and the usual festivities cancelled. It only served to mark the height of another summer without their river.
‘‘When I was a kid, we just spent hours and hours in the river, day on day. Days like this, we’d be in the river,’’ Hamish Bills said.
‘‘The kids can wade in it, they can paddle, but they can’t put their head under.
‘‘That’s just not good enough.’’
‘‘It’s the worst I’ve seen it.’’ Selwyn Huts resident Erin Coffey