The Flow Must Go On

Every day, nearly one billion gallons of water rush through the Delaware Aqueduct, a massive underground pipeline that runs nearly 84 miles, bringing water to New York City. One day soon, that flow may halt, leaving New York City in an unprecedented state of crisis. After a decade of denials, the city is only now beginning to confront the problem. It may be too late.

The aqueduct supplies more than 80 percent of the fresh water that New York City requires. Unfortunately, it has a small problem. Studies by the City's Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) show that the aqueduct has sprung a few leaks. At the moment, the DEP conservatively estimates that the aqueduct is losing between 33 and 37 million gallons of water every day. The actual figure, some engineers believe, might be as high as 100 million gallons.

The city has known about two of the leaks for more than 10 years, but until recently, it has downplayed its their significance. In Roseton, locals have taken to filling jugs with the suddenly abundant supply of freshwater bursting from the hillsides. In Newburgh, the leak has filled a pond and created a new wetland. Now Riverkeeper, RFK Jr.'s Hudson River advocacy group, is forcing the city to confront the problem. The real problem, it turns out, is not the leaks themselves, but their potential impact on the structural integrity of the aqueduct. When water leaves the aqueduct, it tends to erode the surrounding limestone, and weakens and loosens the remaining rock.

No one--not Rudy Giuliani, not the DEP, not even Riverkeeper--has any idea how much of the limestone around the aqueduct has been dissolved, or how much longer the leakage can go on before the waterlogged limestone simply collapses, destroying the tunnel. Even more alarming, however, is that the DEP report indicates that there is probably at least one more leak that it has not yet been able to locate. That raises the possibility that the leak is in the tunnel under the Hudson, protected by only 350 feet of rock. Should the escaping water carve a shaft to the surface, as it has in Newburgh, the tunnel would be compromised.

Not to worry. The Giuliani administration assures us that it has the situation well in hand. At a press conference on Monday, the mayor declared that the problem was "a cause for concern, certainly not a cause for panic." The city, it turns out, intends to build a miniature submarine and send it down the tunnel, to pinpoint the location of the leaks. It may be a nice idea, but the city has yet to contract for its construction. The submarine is, for now, nothing but a pipedream. The plan also raises a more serious issue. Constructing a submersible is an expensive, complicated proposition. It would be far simpler to simply shut down the flow through the tunnel, walk inside, and have a look. Riverkeeper claims that the pressure of water running through the pipe may be all that is currently supporting the rock, and that shutting down the pipe could precipitate a catastrophic collapse.

The fact that the city intends to build a submarine suggests that they give more credence to Riverkeeper's allegations than they are willing to admit publicly. The city has denied the seriousness of the problem for 10 years and two administrations. This is not a partisan issue, but a prolonged abdication of responsibility. If anything, the fault lies with three career bureaucrats in the DEP who are nearing retirement, and appear to be stalling until they can safely lay claim to their pensions.

Should the tunnel collapse, the result would be an almost unimaginable catastrophe. The DEP, which paints the rosiest picture, suggests that the city will face a daily shortfall of more than 180 million gallons, or 13 percent of the supply, even after efforts at conservation. Riverkeeper, after analyzing the city's projections, discovered that most of the city's alternative sources of supply are untested, unconstructed, or illegal. If the city has a few years to upgrade the backup systems, they may be able to supply two-thirds of demand. If the aqueduct collapses tomorrow, the city will be left with half as much water as it needs.

There are not, as of yet, any detailed projections of what this would mean for the more than nine million people who rely on the city's water supply. What is certain is that the effects would ripple outwards from the city itself, as the shortage forces the closure of businesses and industries. From Wall Street to Rockefeller Center, office towers are among the city's most profligate consumers of water.

There may still be time to avert disaster. Tomorrow, the city council will commence long-overdue hearings on the crisis. The DEP has begun to repair the valves that will be needed to shut down the aqueduct to make repairs. It is a start, but it is not enough. The city must conduct extensive tests to assess the state of deterioration. It must formulate realistic contingency plans, immediately commence upgrades of alternative sources of supply, and explore the possibility of building anew tunnel to bypass the compromised segment. And, above all, it must speak openly and honestly with its citizens, to restore our confidence in the city's ability to handle the problem.