Rod Mickleburgh, Globe and Mail, Jul. 10, 2011

Union Bay, B.C. - If you go down to the beach here today, you’re in for a big surprise. If you’re from away, that is.

There, amid the seaside staples of sand, driftwood and rocks worn smooth by the tide, are, of all things, big chunks of coal.

And, just beyond the beach, large mounds of coal dust can be seen through a thick cover of vegetation.

These vestiges of one of the world’s dirtiest minerals don’t quite mesh with the idyllic acreages, pleasant bungalows and laid-back living of this section of Vancouver Island that continues to attract throngs of charmed newcomers.

But the remnants are reminders of a time when coal was king. Mined in dozens of deep, dangerous, dirty operations that cost many lives and paid poorly, coal provided the backbone of the region’s economy throughout the early decades of the 20th century.

Union Bay, so small and quiet today, was then a thriving coal port, complete with a Chinatown, numerous saloons and its own waterfront coke ovens.

The rise of fuel oil and growing costs gradually doomed the industry, and the mid-Island’s last coal mine shut in the mid-1960s. Everyone thought that was that.

Now, nearly half a century later, coal may be back.

With mineral prices soaring, a Vancouver-based mining company has ambitious plans to open an underground coal mine in the hills above Buckley Bay, 20 kilometres south of Courtenay, and a mere five kilometres inland from the province’s finest ocean shellfish waters.

Locals can scarcely believe it.

“Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think, in the year 2011, that I would be looking at a coal mine going in five kilometres from my backyard,” says John Snyder of nearby Fanny Bay. “On a windy day, I can spit that far.”

The proposed Raven Coal Mine has sparked a firestorm of opposition.

Although mandatory environmental reviews are still in their early stages, large, rowdy crowds packed recent government-sponsored public meetings on the project. More than 2,000 written submissions have already been filed by mine opponents. Protest signs are as plentiful as telephone poles on local roadways.

Residents worry that toxins from the mine might leach into the water system, threatening the shellfish industry. They don’t like plans to transport the coal via large double truck trailers, known as B-trains, along 80 kilometres of highways to Port Alberni for export to Asia. And they fear groundwater could be affected.

“There’s this stigma that it’s coal and it’s coal mining,” says Mr. Snyder, a burly, retired trucker from Alaska and a onetime voter for Sarah Palin, who hardly fits the image of an environmentalist. As chairman of CoalWatch Comox Valley, however, he’s been in the forefront of the anti-mine campaign.

“I’m not anti-development, but we think there’s considerable risk to our health and to the environment...No one can tell me with 100-per-cent certainty that this mine won’t [dry up] my private well.”

The furor is evoking a classic confrontation between a project that promises several hundred good-paying jobs in a region hit hard by the recession and those worried about the impact on their lifestyle and surroundings.

“It’s the uncertainty,” says Gordy McLellan, the latest family member to head Mac’s Oysters, oldest of the many shellfish harvesters in Baynes Sound, below the mine site.

“We just don’t know what’s going to come down here from the mine. Too much fresh water is no good for us. When there’s heavy rain, for instance, we have to close. Water quality is everything.”

Still, even Mr. McLellan admits: “It would mean a lot of high-paying jobs for the area. I will say that.”

That’s why most municipalities are standing back, waiting for provincial and federal environmental assessments to conclude, says Courtenay Mayor Greg Phelps.

“Our resource industries have taken a real shit-kicking. We could certainly use those jobs. But we don’t want them at the expense of the shellfish industry. What we’re saying is: set emotions aside and look at the facts.”

John Tapics, the stolid president and CEO of the coal mining venture, is doing his best to stay above the fray.

“I wouldn’t say we have controversy,” insists the 57-year-old mining engineer, who was often drowned out by singing, chants of “no coal” and protesters banging pots and pans, as he tried to speak at the public meeting here last month.

“It’s early in the process. Nothing has been positively identified so far that would have a significant, adverse environmental impact. They are all potential impacts.”

The mine project is 60 per cent owned by Compliance Energy Corp. Two trading companies from Japan and South Korea each own 20 per cent.

Production goal is 850,000 tonnes annually for 16 years of mostly steel-making, metallurgical coal, destined for mills in Asia. Despite ongoing regulatory hoops, Mr. Tapic is hopeful the underground mine will begin production in early 2014.

Not far away in Cumberland, the gritty, former mining town where underground coal mines lasted into the 1960s, old-timers familiar with the industry think its rebirth isn’t a bad idea, at all.

“If it hadn’t have been for coal mines, where the hell would we have been?” observes the community’s feisty 84-year-old former mayor, Bronco Moncrief. As a youth, Mr. Moncrief spent time above and below ground at the local mines.

“Coal mines were our life blood. We had eight of them. If they were so bad, we should have been dead years ago, I guess,” he says.

“When you see what coal mines have done for your town, how can you be a bloody hypocrite and knock ‘em?”

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