The Chesapeake Bay is not tar-black and dead. It is not bright-green and toxic. It looks just as beautiful as ever, come a sunrise in Annapolis or a sunset over Tangier Sound.
What the Chesapeake has become is emptier.
It has fewer crabs, oysters and watermen than it did 25 years ago, when government officials first pledged to restore its health.
And without all that, the bay region is sloughing off the culture that made it unique. Fewer women know the intricate signals of a blue crab's molt, that a red-sign crab is two days away from "busting" and becoming a valuable soft-shell. Fewer men know how to find oyster bars, underwater landmarks such as Snake Rip, Turkey Leg or Old Woman.
Fewer people know their neighbors in a place where neighbors used to be all you had.
"It used to be when you saw a boat go by, you'd say, 'There goes Cap'n Anthony. He's going out to fish his crabs.' 'There's A-Boy,' " headed to collect fish from a pound net, recalled Ken Smith, president of the Virginia State Waterman's Association. "Now, it's like, 'Who in the hell's on that jet ski?' "
The water is still there, but The Bay -- the old, bountiful estuary -- is not. As the old industries have declined, they have been replaced by tourism, where the look of the water is all that matters. Or by trucking, or work in prisons, where the water doesn't matter at all.
This is the real cost of the cleanup's failure: People learning to live with broken promises.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/12/27/AR2008122701126.html?hpid=topnews&sid=ST2008122701441&s_pos=There's a great photo gallery attached to this story.