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Fear and money breed silence in Saskatchewan.
For victims of toxic sour gas leaked from the operations of Saskatchewan's powerful oil and gas industry, crying foul in public can have serious consequences.
This investigation is the second chapter in an unprecedented series investigating the power and influence of the oil and gas industry, and its impacts on Canadian communities. It was carried out over the course of a year by National Observer, the Toronto Star, Global News, and journalism schools at the universities of Concordia, Regina, Ryerson and British Columbia, with support from The Michener Awards Foundation and the Corporate Mapping Project. A complete list of credits follows the story.
Read the first chapter here, and watch the televised investigation on Sunday and Monday on Global National at 5:30 CT/MT/PT and 6:30 ET/AT.
It wasn’t hard for a team of journalists to find people in Saskatchewan who have had dangerous encounters with hydrogen sulfide. Also known as H2S or sour gas, it’s a toxic substance that can leak from the wellheads, pump jacks, tanks and flare stacks of the oilfields.
At high concentrations, H2S can bring death within seconds. Insidious and invisible, its victims may die rapidly from respiratory paralysis, or over days from an inflammatory reaction in the lungs.
In interviews, Saskatchewan residents and oil industry workers expressed concerns about the potentially deadly problem, but very few were willing to go on the record and talk about it.
There is a culture of secrecy surrounding the sour gas issue, an unprecedented investigation by National Observer, the Toronto Star, Global News, and four journalism schools has found. It’s a secrecy locals and industry insiders say is fuelled by industry money, the province’s reliance on that money, and fear of threats that are said to have followed those who dare break the silence.
A bale of hay catches the last sunlight on a summer evening in southeastern Saskatchewan. Photo by Robert Cribb for the Toronto Star
Silenced by fear
Statistics show that the oil and gas industry has some clout in Saskatchewan. Last year, its producers topped up provincial coffers with more than half a billion dollars in tax revenue, and the projections are similar for 2017.
Internal government documents obtained by this investigation lay out nearly five years of industry violations related to toxic sour gas, but they also confirm that key industry players weighed in on the policy reforms — and penalties — they might face as the provincial government tried to crack down on industry's infractions.
In July 2015, field staff from the Saskatchewan Ministry of the Economy — the industry's sole regulator — raised concerns about their relationship with oil and gas companies.
“The role of the regulator needs to be adjusted,” read notes taken during a meeting between ministry officials and industry representatives. “The regulators are acting as consultants in some situations. The role of the regulator is to enforce the rules and if the rules are clear and if enforcement is consistent and clear then, ‘cultural’ changes can be made.”
Asked for this investigation however, about the appearance of a 'close relationship' with oil and gas companies, the Ministry of the Economy declined to comment. In written statements, a spokeswoman said instead that the ministry is “committed to protecting public health, worker safety and environmental standards,” as evidenced by its investments in ramped up inspections and better sour gas monitoring technology.
Despite such reassurances, in the rural communities of southeastern Saskatchewan, locals interviewed for this investigation said the fear of the oil and gas industry’s influence is very real. In the towns and First Nations reserves of rural southeastern Saskatchewan, many families are connected to the industry one way or another, and social ties are tight.
Criticism of oil and gas companies can upset neighbours, family and local businesses — a transgression no one can afford.
“There’s no sense in speaking up because nothing you do will ever change anything,” said one woman — a former industry worker who, along with her husband, agreed to speak about this culture of silence on the condition of anonymity.
The couple had been sickened by H2S near their southeastern Saskatchewan home, but feared that if anyone found out about their clandestine meetings with journalists, word would spread across the province and industry. The husband said he would be blackballed and unable to find work.
The few who have publicly raised concerns about spills in their fields, water being fouled, sacred sites defiled, or gas emissions wafting into their yards told of recriminations. Some lost clients, some lost the friendship of neighbours, and some lost jobs.
Michener Fellow Patti Sonntag (left) speaks with a source about his experience with local oil and gas operators in southeastern Saskatchewan in April 2017. Photo by Patti Sonntag
A 'lonely place' to stand
Others described stronger tactics.
“People are afraid because, well, (oil companies) have a lot of money, they own everything, and there’s always that promise of bringing in money and with money, you know, hope,” said Marilyn Wapass of the Thunderchild First Nation in west-central Saskatchewan.
Her community has welcomed oil development, but Wapass launched a protest when seismic testing — which involved explosive charges — was conducted near their sundance grounds. Wapass was arrested for trying to stand in the way.
“For myself, personally, only a handful of people have actually come forward and have stood by me and continue to stand with me,” she said. “For the rest of the people, they’ve just kind of turned their backs on me I guess, for whatever reasons.
“It’s been a very lonely place to stand, that’s for sure.”
Wapass was charged and found guilty of contempt of court in 2013, but was not given any fines or jail time. At that time, Justice Shawn Smith said the sentence was a warning.
Marilyn Wapass of the Thunderchild First Nation in west-central Saskatchewan speaks with journalist's for the University of Regina's Crude Power documentary, premiering Oct. 4, 2017. Image courtesy of Janelle Blakley
When shunning crosses the line
Emil Bell of the Canoe Lake Cree Nation knows the feeling of isolation well. He went on a hunger strike last summer after Husky Energy spilled more than 225,000 litres of crude oil and diluent into the North Saskatchewan River — a drinking water source for thousands and home to endangered lake sturgeon.
“People are scared to get involved in (complaints),” he told the investigation. “Even in my own community, people don’t want to hang around me because if they are employed by the reserve, they can lose their job because they’re associating with me.”
Sometimes, such shunning can turn into outright intimidation.
It happened to Shirley Galloway after she raised concerns about sour gas plumes near the town Oxbow, Sask. Galloway is a nurse who, along with her husband Jim, runs a business that trains oilfield workers in occupational safety, including H2S risks.
“(Workers from a local drilling company) were driving down our road, then turning around and shining their lights on our house,” she said in an interview.
For a time, the harassment was consistent and “creepy,” added Jim: “They would shine the lights, turn around, shine the lights back in the house and then slowly creep by the house.”
Many residents and landowners who spoke with reporters on condition of anonymity said having their names published would end their career prospects, since operators can easily nix a hiring or cancel a service contract. Some also thought government regulators couldn’t be relied on to help them, and that broadly speaking, they have been left on their own to negotiate with the oil companies.
An internal government document revealed that Saskatchewan’s Ministry of the Economy would prefer that as well.
A pump does its work in a field south of Oxbow, Sask. in September 2017. Photo by Mark Taylor for the Toronto Star
Lack of public records on sour gas
“[The ministry] prefers to see operators deal with public complaint without having to be involved,” read the minutes of a meeting held between government and industry on May 28, 2015.
There is often no information on complaints involving H2S, or those injured by it, available to the public.
The investigative team tried to obtain 60 sour gas complaints sent to the Ministry of the Economy over the years, but received a response that those records “do not exist” within the department. Even where reporters obtained copies of complaints sent from residents to ministry officials, the government responded that there were no records.
But the ministry disputes that its H2S database is incomplete or inaccessible.
“The safety risks of sour gas are well known and all incidents involving gas releases are published on the Ministry’s website,” wrote spokeswoman Deb Young in an emailed response to questions.
A check of the website shows that while incidents involving natural gas releases are logged, the involvement of H2S is not. Access to Saskatchewan’s Integrated Resource Information System (IRIS), where complaints are logged, is further restricted to oil companies, landowners and related institutions that have a government-issued ‘associated business’ ID and password.
Even when incidents are reported, the government’s database is often so incomplete and opaque that serious incidents are almost unrecognizable. An incident report from Dec. 22, 2015, for instance, contains a dry, four-sentence summary of an equipment failure in the southeast when H2S gas was vented.
A company report on the incident — obtained through a freedom of information request — recounted a more alarming version of events. The gas cloud drifted half a kilometre in an area with roads, fields and the occasional farm before enveloping three workers at a gas plant.
Four workers were notified by radio of a gas leak and told to evacuate immediately. While alarms sounded, two ran toward the main control room as their personal H2S monitors were going off; the third also attempted to evacuate, the document reads.
A fourth hit the “emergency shut down” button and grabbed a breathing apparatus before checking on the others. Three workers were “effected [sic] by H2S with one worker losing consciousness.”
The company report concluded that the well suffered a “catastrophic” failure, leading to a “high concentration of H2S being emitted to the atmosphere.”
None of that information was made public.
A sign warns passersby of their proximity to dangerous sour gas on the road leading to Moose Mountain Provincial Park, Sask. Oilpatch worker Michael Bunz was killed by H2S gas from a battery in the park on May 22, 2014. Photo by Mark Taylor for the Toronto Star
Comments from industry
Obtaining information from some oil and gas companies also proved difficult during the investigation. Crescent Point Energy, a Calgary-based oil and gas company, declined to respond to a question about whether any of its facilities in Saskatchewan had ever been caught with sour gas infractions.
But according to an internal government document obtained by the investigation, Crescent Point was given two suspensions in November 2012 alone — at least one of which was undeniably due to H2S infractions.
“Safe operations are Crescent Point’s first priority,” said Crescent Point in a written statement. “We conduct our business in a manner that minimizes impact on the air, land and water surrounding our operations.”
The company added that it supports strong regulatory enforcement to ensure industry compliance and that it has previously made recommendations to the Saskatchewan government for “monitoring enhancements and mitigation practices.” It declined to reveal what those recommendations were.
Canadian Natural Resources Limited (CNRL), another Calgary-based oil and gas company, declined to comment on this investigation altogether, as its industry association — the Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers (CAPP) — had already responded to interview requests.
Executive vice-president of the Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers Terry Abel speaks with National Observer reporters Mike De Souza and Elizabeth McSheffrey from CAPP's headquarters in Calgary on Sept. 19, 2017. Image courtesy of CAPP
A culture of silence
Lori Erhardt, a United Church minister in Oxbow, suffers from breathing problems and must sometimes rely on supplemental oxygen. In 2012, she was forced to leave her home for 17 months to escape what she believes was constant exposure to toxic emissions.
“I’ll be driving... and all of a sudden my voice just goes and this is happened for several years, and then I’ll feel this tightness in my chest,” she said. “I’d land in the hospital about every year... You feel a bit like a canary in a flare zone.”
When she tried to file complaints, she said regional officials seemed “helpless” to take action: “The response was usually, ‘Well, you know, we’re monitoring it.’”
She was instructed to contact people higher up in government, but decided to leave Oxbow instead. “I was so sick,” she said, “I just couldn’t do it.”
The Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers (CAPP), which represents more than 90 oil and gas producers in Canada, said it encourages members of the public to come forward with their concerns. In an interview from CAPP’s headquarters in Calgary, executive vice-president Terry Abel said the lobby group’s focus is on encouraging “best practices” for communication of health and safety information.
“... Consistent with our commitment to public safety and our acknowledgement that unsafe operations are completely unacceptable, totally unacceptable... we believe strongly that anyone who's aware of unsafe operations, whether it's a member of the public or an employee — they have a duty to come forward,” he said.
“And further extension to that, as CAPP or as a member company, or as government... When that information is brought to your attention, you have a duty to do something about that and respond to it.”
Saskatchewan resident Shirley Galloway, who has publicly complained about H2S before, took a direct approach and it backfired. After she sent complaints to contractors about facilities operated by a local company, the company sent her a registered letter asking her to cease communications with the contractors or face legal action.
It ended: “Please govern yourself accordingly.”
If something goes wrong, “if there’s any kind of release or gas, we have nobody to call,” said Galloway.
The culture of silence is the result of industry holding rural communities “hostage,” explained Emily Eaton, a professor at the University of Regina who has studied the impacts of the industry on rural residents for several years, recently as a member of the Corporate Mapping Project.
“Certainly (industry) does provide benefits. No one can deny that there aren’t a lot of jobs produced by industry in rural areas,” she said, “but those come along with an expectation that you’ll remain silent about the types of impacts that you might be experiencing in your backyard.”
“The culture of silence in Saskatchewan is really a culture of fear.”
United Church minister Lori Erhardt says she feels helpless standing up to the Saskatchewan government when it comes to toxic emissions she believes caused her breathing problems. Photo by Mark Taylor for the Toronto Star
Authors
Elizabeth McSheffrey, National Observer
Mike De Souza, National Observer
Robert Cribb, The Toronto Star
Patti Sonntag, Michener Fellow
P.W. Elliott, University of Regina
That rotten stench in the air? The smell of deadly gas and secrecy.
As the number of shale oil wells has soared in Saskatchewan, the risk of hydrogen sulphide leaks has multiplied. A year-long investigation reveals what the government and industry knew — and kept from the public.
NewsWorld
That rotten stench in the air? It’s the smell of deadly gas and secrecy
As the number of shale oil wells has soared in Saskatchewan, the risk of hydrogen sulphide leaks has multiplied. A year-long investigation reveals what the government and industry knew — and kept from the public.
Documents and information from whistleblowers disclose findings of failures in performance by oil and gas companies, including serious infractions, failed safety audits, daily H2S readings beyond provincial air quality standards and a death in 2014. (MARK TAYLOR FOR THE TORONTO STAR)
A gas flare tower west of Oxbow, now a common sight in the province. (MARK TAYLOR / FOR THE TORONTO STAR)
By ROBERT CRIBBStaff Reporter
PATTI SONNTAGMICHENER AWARDS FOUNDATION
P.W. ELLIOTTUNIVERSITY OF REGINA
ELIZABETH MCSHEFFREYNATIONAL OBSERVER
Sun., Oct. 1, 2017
OXBOW, SASK.—The two-storey cedar home where Shirley Galloway lives with her family was a solitary dot on the Saskatchewan prairie when they moved here 21 years ago.
The view from the front porch, once a landscape of rolling hills, horse pastures and lush river valley, has been transformed.
Today, Oxbow is surrounded by bobbing, black steel pump jacks and flare stacks burning off hydrogen sulphide and other dangerous gases that rise with the oil and trail off in ribbons of flame over green fields.
Late in the afternoon of Oct. 30, 2012, Galloway, a 53-year-old registered nurse, heard screams from the front yard.
Galloway dashed out to find a teenage family member vomiting and the air thick with the rotten-egg smell of sour gas — hydrogen sulphide (H2S).
Article Continued Below
Galloway, who trains oil workers to survive these same events, knew what to do.
She pulled the teen inside, grabbed an air monitor and held it out the door. The reading was off the dial — more than 100 parts per million — a level immediately dangerous to human health.
Saskatchewan’s oil boom has brought jobs for many. For others, it has brought fear, injury and one death.
The number of “fracked” wells in the Bakken shale oilfield alone increased from 75 in 2004 to nearly 3,000 in 2013, according to a 2016 paper by the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives. The promise of prosperity, similar to its southern neighbour North Dakota’s Bakken boom, has been embraced by a province struggling to diversify its economy.
A national investigation by the Toronto Star, the National Observer, Global News and journalism schools at Regina, Concordia, Ryerson and UBC has uncovered failures by industry and government to respond to — and warn the public about — the serious and sometimes deadly threat of H2S gas wafting across Saskatchewan.
Documents obtained through freedom-of-information requests and from whistleblowers — internal correspondence, meeting minutes, presentations and inspection reports — disclose findings of failures in performance by oil and gas companies, including serious infractions, failed safety audits, daily H2S readings beyond provincial air quality standards and a death in 2014.
Yet regulatory standards remain largely unchanged and H2S incidents and risks remain hidden from the public.
The teen overcome in Galloway’s yard eventually recovered but missed school for several days with nausea and headaches.
H2S can be an insidious killer.
Heavier than air, it tends to settle in ravines and valleys.
Registered nurse Shirley Galloway knew what to do when she found a family member vomiting amid the smell of sour gas. Galloway trains oil workers to survive these leaks. (DEREK PUTZ / GLOBAL NEWS)
Just above the level Galloway’s monitor detected — 100 parts per million — H2S causes olfactory paralysis, leaving a victim unable to detect the rotten-egg smell. Continued exposure at that level may cause death within 48 hours.
A person exposed to a highly concentrated plume of the gas — at 1,000 parts per million — may die rapidly from respiratory paralysis, or over the course of days, from an inflammatory reaction in the lungs.
Victims effectively suffocate.
The government issued no public warning after Galloway reported the plume at her home because “there was no evidence that this was a widespread failure.” But inside government and industry offices, documents indicate the seriousness of H2S issues that led to years of meetings, audits and proposed regulatory reforms.
On April 7, 2014, government and industry officials deliberated about releasing data that showed H2S “hotspots” across southeastern Saskatchewan.
“Government may be accused of hiding information,” the notes read. “Public will want to know: 1. What are the areas? 2. How is it managed? 3. How is the government making sure it’s managed?” one unnamed official told the meeting. “Are we creating a risk by not releasing this data immediately?”
Despite acknowledging “significant” public health risks from H2S, at least some officials present expressed concern about “sensitivity in this data (because) there are residents living in these areas.”
No release followed.
Three weeks later, government-proposed fines for emission breaches — up to $1 million in penalties — were rejected by two major industry groups. In a letter to the ministry dated April 29, 2014, the Canadian Association of Petroleum Producers (CAPP) and Explorers and Producers Association of Canada (EPAC) called the proposed penalties “unsuitable.”
A former ministry official, speaking on condition of anonymity for fear of losing his current job in the industry, says “almost every amendment was being rejected.”
EPAC officials declined comment.
Terry Abel, CAPP’s spokesperson, said the letter was intended to explain that, “in some cases, fines aren’t appropriate at all … If there’s an unsafe operation, it should be shut down. It shouldn’t be operating. That’s the best way to ensure the public safety is protected.”
The proposed fines were dropped.
The next month, Michael Bunz, a 38-year-old salesman supplying chemicals to oil and gas facilities, lay in a shack 80 kilometres from the Galloway house, dead after being exposed to H2S.
The official incident report filed with the Ministry of the Economy, which regulates Saskatchewan’s oilfields, makes no mention of Bunz’s death.
The story of the Bunz family, who lost their son after he was exposed to H2S gas in Saskatchewan as well as others who have made narrow escapes.
These regulators “are really thinking about the economic health of the province,” says Emily Eaton, a professor at the University of Regina who has studied the relationship between the oil industry and the government. Eaton is a member of the Corporate Mapping Project.
A shift in 2012 — from the Ministry of Energy and Resources to a new Ministry of the Economy tasked with regulating natural resource extraction and promoting economic development — changed the ministry’s role from watchdog to partner, she says.
“They’re thinking about returns on investment … The industry should really be regulated by those that have the interests of the environment first.”
Ministry field staff raised this concern at a meeting on July 1, 2015, between government and industry.
“The role of the regulator needs to be adjusted,” the meeting’s minutes read. “The regulators are acting as consultants in some situations. The role of the regulator is to enforce the rules and if the rules are clear and if enforcement is consistent and clear then, ‘cultural’ changes can be made.”
In its statement, the ministry rejects criticisms of conflict of interest or lax enforcement.
“Within the Ministry of the Economy, the petroleum and natural gas division carries out industry regulation,” wrote the department’s spokeswoman, Deb Young. “It is not involved in investment attraction, royalty and tax assessment and land sales. It is solely focused on well, facility and pipeline regulation.”
That regulation has not included fines or prosecutions.
The ministry has not issued a single fine against any industry company “for well over a decade,” Doug MacKnight, assistant deputy minister responsible for petroleum and natural gas, said in an interview.
“Generally, we don’t have to resort to that,” he said. “It’s usually just a notice to the operator to bring themselves into compliance.”
Prosecutions have also not been part of the ministry’s enforcement practices because non-compliance was dealt with “through other enforcement actions,” reads the ministry’s statement.
Other enforcement actions include increased inspections and staff, high-tech equipment for detecting emissions and a $69-million inspection reporting database (which can’t be accessed by the public).
Still, complaints of illness from residents and workers continue.
Lori Erhardt, a minister and musician, believes various health problems are related to gas in the area neare her home in Oxbow, Sask. (MARK TAYLOR FOR THE TORONTO STAR)
“I will sometimes get faint, like I will fall over and I have to find a seat quickly,” says Lori Erhardt, a United Church minister and musician living near Oxbow who believes her chronic illness is related to emissions.
“I have had a variety of diagnoses, most of them end with “i-t-i-s,” which means inflammation … If something gets inflamed, if it’s blood vesicles, you feel it through your body.”
Among the five years’ worth of documents obtained by this investigation is an April 2012 PowerPoint presentation to CAPP members by the director of the province’s petroleum and natural gas division. It includes a map of southeastern Saskatchewan showing a bloom of red and orange circles, labelled “critical sour gas locations.”
Sources say ministry staff pushed to make the data public but senior government officials said “there’s no goddamn way that is going to be released,” according to the former ministry source.
“There’s an institutional reluctance to make this information public,” he said. “The public should be able to see all the information that legislators have identified as public information such as sour gas and inspection reports.”
"'I will sometimes get faint'"
LORI ERHARDT
UNITED CHURCH MINISTER AND MUSICIAN LIVING NEAR OXBOW WHO BELIEVES HER CHRONIC ILLNESS IS RELATED TO EMISSIONS
The ministry statement says the map was never approved for release because some data was out of date, not comprehensive and “could provide the public and industry with a false understanding of risk associated with a particular well or facility.”
After the Galloway incident, the ministry inspected 11 oil and gas facilities. All failed “with serious infractions,” including releasing H2S at lethal levels “that may be exceeding 150,000 (parts per million),” Brad Herald, CAPP’s Saskatchewan operations manager, wrote to the board of governors in December 2012.
Those levels are 150 times the amount that could cause instant death.
Among the causes: “It is believed that inadequate training on the installation and operation of equipment is … contributing to the air quality issues.”
CAPP’s Abel said in an interview the “unsafe” facilities responsible for those breaches should not have been operating.
“They should have been shut down,” he said. “When you follow the rules, processing and production of sour gas is absolutely safe. If you don’t follow the rules, it can pose a health risk. So ultimately, those operators at those facilities were responsible.”
Neither CAPP nor its industry partners made the health risks public. And no ministry fines or prosecutions followed.
Internally, CAPP quickly mobilized to develop a public relations and damage control plan:
“There are growing public concerns regarding the air quality issues in southeast Saskatchewan,” Herald wrote, noting a petition and a Facebook page.
“The Ministry fields one to two public complaints concerning odours per week and the issue is garnering increasing political attention . . . This has the potential to become a broader industry reputation/social license concern and warrants immediate attention by operators in the region . . . Communications is preparing key messages in the event that there is media profile.”
CAPP received a warning the next month after consulting a scientist with expertise on managing toxic substances, internal emails show. The scientist expressed disappointment noting that H2S failures were “so easy to avoid.”
The scientist urged the industry lobby group to develop and implement a new code of practice to control dangerous emissions and get ahead of the problem by publicly denouncing unacceptable practices. The scientist also recommended that the industry group pressure the province to step up inspections.
The ministry, in meetings with industry, proposed similar reforms.
In a letter sent in March 2013 then-energy minister Tim McMillan — now president and CEO of CAPP — warned companies to meet “compliance obligations” or face “escalated enforcement, penalty and/or prosecution.”
Ministry and industry met four times between 2012 and 2014 to plot strategy, including emergency planning zones, a public communications document, a code of practice and a licensing regime for high-risk, single-well batteries.
Those plans were never adopted, a ministry statement confirms.
“Instead, the Ministry chose to take a risk-based approach to managing the sour gas issue that included increased field inspections and improved data collection.” Eighteen wells that had been venting sour gas were ordered to be “shut-in” in 2012/2013.
Michael Bunz, who died from exposure to H2S gas. (DEREK PUTZ / GLOBAL NEWS)
From 2013 to the summer of 2014, the ministry began implementing “an aggressive inspection and enforcement schedule to reduce sour gas emission” that included suspension orders against 30 facilities owing to “H2S management issues,” the statement reads.
During that effort, H2S would claim its most high-profile victim in Saskatchewan.
Michael Bunz, a salesman for Nalco Champion, died on May 22, 2014, while taking samples in a shed located in a provincial park between Carlyle and Kipling. A valve on the tank broke and oil, water and H2S spewed into his face.
An incident report submitted by the tank’s owner, Harvest Operations Corp., states simply: “Spill occurred as a result of a failed valve.”
Dianne and Allan Bunz visit the gravesite of their son, Michael, who was killed by H2S gas while working near his home in Wawota, Sask. "We knew aout H2S but I wasn't aware that he was going on site and doing the testing," Dianne says. (MARK TAYLOR FOR THE TORONTO STAR)
Nowhere does it mention Bunz’s death.
Instead, his death is marked by a gravestone in a small cemetery near Wawota, where the father of two young daughters lived a few doors away from his parents, Dianne and Allan.
The black, polished stone, with an image of Bunz wearing his Saskatchewan Roughriders jersey and hat, calls him “Bunzy” and reads: “In loving memory of Emma and Olivia’s Daddy.”
“He didn’t really talk about those dangers,” Dianne says. “We knew what it’s like to work in the oil industry. My husband did for 20 years. We knew about H2S but I wasn’t aware that he was going on site and doing the testing.”
The summer before he died, Allan drove his son to the Nalco office to quit. Michael’s brother-in-law, who had worked there, had left and “things had been pretty tough,” Michael said, marked by long days and heavy workload.
“He was going to hand his company truck in, and his boss was there … he talked (Michael) out of it,” Allan says. “This company wanted him because he never ever phoned in sick or anything. He’d just go to work. And they offered him more money, so he stayed.”
Nalco Champion is facing three charges under the province’s occupational health and safety legislation for failing to provide Bunz with a respirator and to ensure he entered a dangerous situation with a second worker. A conviction would result in a fine.
The family says they were told by Nalco that the concentration of H2S in the fluids was estimated at 40,000 parts per million, more than enough to bring near-instant death.
The company sent reporters a written statement, declining further comment.
“We remain deeply saddened by the loss of our colleague, Michael Bunz. The safety of our associates, customers and communities is vitally important, and we remain committed to our robust safety policies, protocols and training programs, which include those related to hydrogen sulfide,” it reads.
Allan, who spent most of his working life in the oil industry, says he learned more about H2S protection when he worked on a pig farm.
“Every person had to wear an H2S monitor. And I’m talking about the pig industry,” he says. “To me, they were protecting us … more at this simple small hog operation in Saskatchewan than the oil industry ever did the entire time I was working out there.”
The couple reviewed the records documenting years of discussions between government and industry about public health risks and failed audits that were never made public. The couple called it “devastating.”
“I go to work every day and I drive down the highway and I talk to my son sitting beside me,” says Allan. “I say to him “tough day there, son” and I tell him how I feel . . . I feel him sitting there beside me.”
Trina Hansen was clearing a pipeline near Carlyle, Sask., when she breathed in H2S. “Your first reaction is to inhale. When it hits your face, you breathe it in." (DEREK PUTZ / GLOBAL NEWS)
How often H2S incidents happen or happened in Saskatchewan remains a mystery.
Officially, ministry officials count one death and five “documented incidents where a member of the public was exposed to unsafe levels of sour gas near a well or facility site.”
None of them triggered a public statement by the government.
“There was no need for public notification since the incident was quickly dealt with at the site,” reads the ministry statement.
But after dozens of interviews it is clear that H2S incidents involving residents are more common but go unreported or are not recorded properly. This is also true for workers in the oilfield.
Only months after Bunz died, Trina Hansen, an oilfield worker and part-time voice actress, was clearing a pipeline near Carlyle, Sask.
“I could have died,” she says. “It’s almost like you could feel like a heavy air hit your face. It’s a really weird feeling. Your first reaction is to inhale. When it hits your face, you breathe it in. It’s the weirdest thing. You don’t think to hold your breath. It happens so fast. I stumbled backwards. I was so shocked.”
Disoriented, Hansen got back in her truck and drove a couple of kilometres until she noticed she was losing her peripheral vision.
“There were white sparkles, iridescent, swirly, super-shiny and bright. I jumped out and started feeling nauseous and couldn’t breathe very well. I was trying to catch my breath and dry heaving. My head started pounding.”
"'I could have died'"
TRINA HANSEN
AN OILFIELD WORKER AND PART-TIME VOICE ACTRESS EXPOSED TO H2S
Hansen, suffering debilitating headaches, nausea and sickness, lost her voice for two weeks.
“This happened three years ago and I still have a hard time catching my breath if I talk too fast. I’m very short of breath. I’ve never in my life felt like that. It was horrible.”
Her voice has changed for good — it is far deeper and lower than before.
“I do a cartoon on APTN network and they said my voice totally changed. It changed two octaves pretty much. It used to be high and now it cuts out.”
Hansen never reported the incident, fearing she would lose her job.
“Nobody wants to say anything. We know it’s bad and dangerous. But no one wants to raise a fuss. And being a woman and trying to prove yourself out there, I never claimed WCB (Workers Compensation Board). The economy went down and I have to pay off debt with my trucking money.”
Four months after Bunz’s death, a secret ministry report listed 161 facilities “that may be in violation of (the ministry’s) sour gas emission control.”
The catch: “time and resources required to investigate and verify violations would take all available field officers over a year.”
In 2014, inspections of 60 suspicious wells in 2014 turned up 36 — more than half — that were leaking so badly they had to be shut down.
Another audit found 11 out of 12 facilities failed inspection “due to H2S venting” and found 29 locations that are too close to facilities with high levels of H2S concentrations. Of the 1,352 active sour gas facilities, only 421 — 31 per cent — had “proper emission control systems.”
“Almost every site had improper gas measurement,” the report reads. “Discovered major contamination at two facilities as a result of spill which were not reported” to the ministry.
The ministry believes that the H2S issue is under control, saying air quality standards are being met and that inspections confirm that companies’ sour gas management practices have improved. Today 27 full-time inspectors are responsible for the province’s 126,000 wells and its estimated 118,000 kilometres of pipelines and flowlines, operating with a budget of $3.9 million.
In 2016-17, ministry staff inspected 18,340 wells, facilities and pipelines.
Last month, a team of researchers from Harvard and Northeastern Universities collected data in collaboration with this investigation using the same instruments employed by ministry inspectors to detect emissions invisible to the naked eye.
“In my experience measuring oil and gas activities in Texas, what struck me was that about a third of the sites we looked at had what we believed to be fugitive emissions and the high density of pump jacks,” says Lourdes Vera, a doctoral student in environmental sociology at Northeastern University.
Drew Michanowicz, a post-doctoral researcher at Harvard University’s School of Public Health who led the survey in Saskatchewan, said about one in five of the facilities they visited showed black smoke rising from the flaring stacks of production facilities.
“If there is black smoke, there is particulate matter that if inhaled is certainly associated with human health effects,” he said. “If sources of these air pollutants are constantly impacting individuals where they live, work and play, there is the worry that they are experiencing health effects.”
A pump jack is surrounded by batteries near Roche Percee., Sask. (MARK TAYLOR FOR THE TORONTO STAR)
In interviews with landowners and records in the government database, this investigation has found recent H2S accidents, including three people who say they were sickened by H2S clouds near their homes in the past year. One said they required hospitalization after a near-fatal incident.
In January, more than four years after the H2S incident in Galloway’s front yard, she and her husband were driving home when they encountered a plume of what she believes was H2S gas.
She fell ill and stayed home for three days.
“I’ve had arrhythmias, really wicked headaches … I’ve had bouts of nausea. I wake up at night and have heart palpitations.”
Galloway wrote to public officials demanding a response.
There were no consequences or fines as a result. And no official report of an incident anywhere near the Galloway property that day was filed.
That, says Galloway, is just the way it works in Saskatchewan.
“As a person living in the middle of the oilfield, you have no protection. The government doesn’t care. Your MLA doesn’t care. The oil companies don’t care.”
Unprecedented collaboration behind the project
During the past nine months, an unprecedented collaboration of more than 50 journalists and editors from three Canadian media outlets, four journalism schools and a think tank have worked to chronicle the hidden price of oil in Canada.
Collectively, reporters examined thousands of industry and government documents, analyzed terabytes of data and delved into dozens of freedom-of-information requests.
“The project started with the people,” says Patti Sonntag, a managing editor in the New York Times’ news services division, who launched the project with a grant from the Michener Awards Foundation. Following a tip from a colleague at the Corporate Mapping Project, she did some research and reporting in Saskatchewan last fall.
Working with the previous year’s Michener winner, Toronto Star journalist Robert Cribb, Sonntag created a team of students at the Ryerson, Concordia and UBC journalism schools. Concordia University’s Department of Journalism volunteered to act as host and headquarters for the project.
University of Regina students reported on the ground locally, shot video and developed sources, while students at the other universities aggregated and analyzed data and interviewed experts.
“We’re pulling these four different schools from across the country and looking at it from all different aspects,” says Janelle Blakley, a University of Regina student reporter whose team mapped spills data and met local farmers and residents. “This collaboration allowed us to really dig into it, where all schools were pulling apart different pieces of it and then coming back and putting it all together.”
The significance of the data quickly drew intrigue. What emerged was a picture of a few dedicated regulators — and even some industry leaders — who tried to introduce greater accountability, but these efforts were ultimately overwhelmed by larger forces.
“You start to understand these figures really do play a huge role in dictating the direction of the Canadian economy and that plays out in the lives of everyday Canadians,” says Lauren Kaljur, a graduate of UBC’s master of journalism program who has been investigating the concentration of corporate power in Saskatchewan’s oil and gas industry since the beginning of 2017.
To Matthew Gilmour, a recent journalism graduate at Concordia University, after spending months populating spreadsheets and ledgers, “there’s the human moment where you realize it’s not just a pocketbook story. It’s a human story. And people’s lives are affected.”
The work continued past the end of the semester in April 2017, with students working alongside veteran reporters at the Star, the National Observer and Global News to shape the stories, seek comments from all sides and publish hundreds of pages of government and industry records, detailing concerns about potentially deadly gas emissions for the first time.
Writers/Reporters:
Robert Cribb, The Toronto Star
Patti Sonntag, Michener Fellow
P.W. Elliott, University of Regina
Elizabeth McSheffrey, The National Observer
Data and documentation journalist:
Michael Wrobel, Concordia University
Researchers:
Jennifer Ackerman, University of Regina
Madina Azizi, University of Regina
Janelle Blakley, University of Regina
Cory Coleman, University of Regina
Mike De Souza, The National Observer
Josh Diaz, University of Regina
Brenna Engel, University of Regina
Matthew Gilmour, Concordia University
Celine Grimard, University of Regina
Jared Gottselig, University of Regina
Lauren Kaljur ,University of British Columbia
Rebbeca Marroquin, University of Regina
Matthew Parizot, Concordia University
Katie Doke Sawatzky, University of Regina
Michaela Solomon, University of Regina
Kyrsten Stringer, University of Regina
Caitlin Taylor, University of Regina
Steph Wechsler, Ryerson University
Faculty Supervisors:
P.W. Elliott, University of Regina
Trevor Grant, University of Regina
Series Producer:
Patti Sonntag, Michener Fellow, based at Concordia University
Institutional Credits:
Concordia University, Department of Journalism
Ryerson University, School of Journalism
University of British Columbia, Graduate School of Journalism
University of Regina, School of Journalism
Global News
The Michener Awards Foundation
Corporate Mapping Project
Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives
Parkland Institute
University of Victoria
Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council
Watch the televised investigation: Sunday and Monday on Global National at 5:30 CT/MT/PT & 6:30 ET/ATRobert Cribb can be reached at rcribb@thestar.ca
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