Chapter 115: Dispute (2)
TL: Hanguk
Word had it the inspection was coming today, so I'd set out before dawn and was now out at Chloe's pear farm. Two unfamiliar trucks were parked at the entrance to the orchard. Blue lettering stood out sharply along the side of each.
NSJWCD – North San Joaquin Water Conservation District.
And I wasn't the only one who'd been out there since morning.
"If the inspection turns up anything, we're not letting it slide, just so you know."
"We'll be coming after you for damages."
The farm owners who'd come by before were back, throwing out threats. But there was one among them I hadn't seen before, a man with black hair, standing over 190 centimeters tall, with a long face.
Arms folded, he kept shifting his sharp gaze between Chloe and the investigators, and of the whole group, he was the one who put me most on edge.
"Who's that?"
When I asked, Liam answered.
"That's Jack O'Connell, who owns the pistachio farm about five kilometers to the southeast. He runs a big operation, over four hundred acres."
The words "pistachio farm" made me frown. When it came to water consumption, pistachios were even worse than pears: a single tree could need upwards of sixty to eighty liters a day in summer.
"Good day. I'm Harold Curtis, field investigator with the NSJWCD. I'm here regarding the complaint that was filed, about a suspected drop in water levels caused by excessive groundwater well operation."
"Yes, thank you for coming."
As Chloe shook his hand and spoke, the man, in a dark navy shirt and sunglasses, a thick folder of documents in hand, replied.
"We simply follow procedure, always. So you consent to the complaint investigation, then?"
"Of course."
The man who'd protested most aggressively before raised his voice, chewing gum as he spoke.
"There's definitely something wrong here! You need to investigate this properly!"
"Understood. Since consent's been given, we'll begin the inspection."
The investigators pulled out their equipment right away and moved to where the groundwater well was. The thin cable of a water-level meter descended into the well, and after a long beep sounded three times, a graph appeared on the screen.
The blue line fell slowly, then bent sharply downward at a certain point. Harold watched it, narrowed his eyes, and spoke.
"You see this? The drop in water level starts on this line earlier than on the other farms. Geographically, the water flows from north to south... which would put this farm first in line."
I nodded and peered at the screen.
"That's because of the terrain. The surface in this area is tilted by about three degrees, so..."
"That's the farm's opinion. We judge by the data."
His tone grew colder by the moment. He went on in a brisk, businesslike manner.
"Technically, it's the most likely source as well. For now, we're designating your farm as the provisional cause."
He said this and jotted down a note.
'Primary suspect site – Lodi Pear Orchard.'
Chloe cried out in shock.
"Hold on a second! The investigation isn't even finished, so why start with us...!"
"With the water having dropped this far, frankly it's a wonder your pear trees are even alive. As a temporary administrative measure, halt operation of the groundwater well for forty-eight hours."
I was dumbfounded, but for the moment I had no choice but to follow the legal procedure.
"I'll accept the order for now, even if it's groundless. But I'm keeping a record."
When I told them to write down the investigator's name and the details of the administrative action, Harold didn't care in the slightest. If anything, he curled up one corner of his mouth and sneered.
"Suit yourself."
Once the investigators had gone, the neighboring farm owners erupted into an uproar, as though they'd been waiting for the moment. We'd been handed the administrative ruling, and we made it clear that we wouldn't accept it and would have a proper re-investigation carried out.
"Hmph! We're not going to just stand by!"
"Get ready to be hit with a class-action suit!"
The farm owners ranted at us like a storm for a good while, then left. They looked at us as though we were witches out of the Middle Ages. Still, the one bright spot was that Chloe showed no sign of being down about it.
"So they figure they've finally got something on us, is that it. We're not going to take this lying down, right?"
Chloe was burning with the will to fight.
"By the end of today, I'm filing a Reconsideration Request and a request to suspend the administrative order, both at once."
"All right!"
Chloe clenched her fist, then, as if a worry had suddenly struck her, looked up at me with those big, anxious eyes.
"It's not actually us causing the problem, is it?"
"I checked earlier. We didn't drill the well to the wrong depth. So the problem definitely started somewhere else."
"Then why are they pinning the blame on us without even checking properly first?"
"That's..."
I started to say something, then thought better of it. But Chloe caught my meaning, and her eyebrows arched up sharply as she shouted.
"Those disgusting racists! There's no fixing people like that, not even with education! We need to screw them over legally! That's the only way they'll never pull this kind of crap again. Can't we get them with a lawsuit somehow?"
"It'd be hard to prove. We'll just have to let it go. You know how it is, right? That it's not that easy."
Chloe grabbed my arm, her face sullen.
"Let me apologize on their behalf."
"Ha. You're in no position to be apologizing to me right now. We're about to get hit with a lawsuit, remember?"
"But you'll handle that just fine, won't you."
She broke into a sweet little smile, and before I knew it I was smiling too.
"Yeah. Let's just deal with it first."
At that, Liam, who'd been watching, asked.
"So, are you planning to bring in a lawyer?"
"A lawyer would be overkill, a paralegal should do. And I can't manage this on my own, so I'll need to bring in a hydrogeological consultant."
Among American farms, groundwater interference disputes between operations were quite severe. Because of that, hydrogeologists and water resource consultants were already at work, and it was fairly common for them to analyze well water levels, pressure, and pump volumes, draw up a "Well Interference Report", and submit it to administrative hearings or the courts.
"Understood. Do you know a consultant you can call on?"
"I'll have to ask around. For now, would you help me put together the materials we need to file the paperwork?"
"Of course."
I made a call right away. The person who could help me most reliably in a situation like this was Pierce Morgan, from the Agricultural Extension Office.
"Hello."
"Oh, Brian! What's the star of Napa Valley calling about? Ah, is this about the organic certification? That's not something we issue on our end, though."
"Ha ha, I know, the USDA's the one that issues that. Actually, I'm trying to track down a hydrogeological consultant."
"Huh? Hydrogeology? Why? There's no way Redwood would end up in a water dispute with anyone."
Pierce Morgan certainly had a sharp instinct for farming. Wine grapes were, by their nature, among the thriftiest fruit crops there were when it came to water. They had never used much to begin with, but drip irrigation and managing water stress through SWP cut their consumption even further. The odds of a water dispute breaking out with the neighboring farms, then, were slim.
Of course, that was only how things looked on the surface; underneath, there were fierce fights over the right to draw water and over access to it. But Redwood had had its groundwater well drilled long ago, so water shortages were never a concern.
"It's not my farm. A friend of mine, Chloe, she's over at UC Davis, she grows pears in Lodi. And a water dispute's broken out there."
"Ahh, I see. Got it. I'll find someone good and let you know. Can you hang on a sec?"
"Thank you."
A little while later he called back and gave me the number of a man named Dominic Smith. I gave Dominic the address of the farm in Lodi, requested a meeting, and then headed straight to the Lodi County administrative office with Chloe.
On the second floor of the Lodi County administrative office, old fluorescent lights flickered over gray walls. Above the service window hung a worn sign that read [WATER RESOURCES & AGRICULTURE UNIT].
A female clerk behind the reception desk set down a folder and said, expressionless,
"This is about a complaint, correct?"
"Yes. We'd like to file a Reconsideration Request."
As I answered, Chloe, standing beside me, held out a thick envelope of documents. Inside were things like pump operation records and groundwater well depth diagrams.
The clerk skimmed through the documents, then said,
"Please speak with the officer in charge. She's just come in."
A small office door at the end of the hallway opened, and a middle-aged woman came in, a folder cradled in her arms. With her brown hair tied back neatly, a chunky gray knit sweater, and thick horn-rimmed glasses, she extended her hand.
"I'm Nancy Hamilton, a paralegal with the Lodi Farm Bureau. If this is about a reconsideration request, I can help you."
Chloe and I shook her hand and sat down, and Nancy opened a worn folder and laid out an old form.
"This is the Reconsideration Request form. If you believe the administrative order is unjust, submitting this within ten days will get you a hearing."
She said this, then pointed to a particular box on the document and went on.
"You'll need to attach 'new evidence or technical verification materials' to this section. Without that, the filing will go through, but it's very likely to be thrown out."
I nodded and asked,
"And by evidence, you mean... things like pump operation volume, flow-meter data, water-level records, that sort of thing?"
"More than the farm's own internal data, you'll really want a report with reliable figures verified by a hydrogeologist. Is that doable?"
"Of course. We'll have it written up and submitted within ten days."
She smiled.
"Good. The reconsideration request will be filed by the end of the day. Good luck, Mr. Choi."
Two days after we filed the reconsideration request, someone came to visit the farm.
The man had tousled, half-curly hair and wore an earth-colored shirt, and though his face looked exhausted and rather irritable, the thin gold-rimmed glasses he wore lent him a touch of intelligence.
"We've been expecting you. Dominic Smith?"
"That's right. And the farm owner is...?"
"That's me. And this is my... partner."
At Chloe's introduction, he shook my hand and took a seat. The moment he sat down, he pushed his glasses up and said, with an air of indifference,
"This Lodi area has always had no end of water disputes, so conflicts here aren't easily put to rest without solid numbers on the table. Do you know much about the underground conditions around here?"
"Yes. There are two aquifers below: the shallow one is the Alluvial Layer, the deep one the Deltaic Gravel Layer. The trouble is, the two layers aren't perfectly separated."
"......?"
He looked mildly surprised. After all, here was a young East Asian man who came across as an immigrant or a foreign student, yet who knew the area's geology far too well.
"My hypothesis is this. If someone disturbs the deep layer, the pressure in the upper layer shifts too. If there's somewhere other than us drawing from a deep groundwater well, I think that could be the cause. So finding it is what matters."
"Sounds like you've already worked most of this out yourself?"
"Well... the basics of farming come down to land and water, after all."
By the time someone reached the doctoral level in agriculture, a working knowledge of how to use water was expected as a matter of course. The particular traits of each region were something to be learned as well, and even if they'd been forgotten, information like this was never hard to track down.
"Plenty of people have that idea, but not many actually know it. In any case, what you need isn't my skill, it's my authority. Am I right?"
He'd seen through my intention in an instant. But even so, I couldn't just come out and say it directly.
"Not at all. It's your help I need, Dominic, and if my guess is wrong, please advise me however you see fit. As long as this gets resolved, I don't care what method we use."
At my words, a smile touched his lips and he nodded.
"So, where are the places you suspect?"
I fetched a map of the surrounding area that was kept in the office, spread it out, and pointed to one spot.
"The farms that use the most water in this area are... right here, the walnut farm and the pistachio farm. We only planted our saplings a year ago, so I think it's far more likely these farms have been overusing water, not us."
"So you're saying we look into them?"
"Exactly. Can it be done?"
Dominic folded his arms and gave a meaningful smile.
"Tell me, do you happen to enjoy working at night?"
I caught his meaning.
"Of course."
*****
Join our Discord for announcements or to report any mistakes.