LAKE MEAD, Nevada – Twenty five million Americans rely on a water source that is slowly drying up.
Lake Mead — America’s largest reservoir — provides irrigation, industrial and drinking water for much of the southwest. But after years of drought and decades of overconsumption, Mead has dropped to its lowest ever level. A 147-foot “bathtub ring” marks where the lake once rose. If the water does not rise three feet higher than its current levels by the end of this year, mandatory water restrictions will go into effect in Arizona, Nevada and California.
But more immediately, a family whose livelihood depends on Mead is already feeling the impact of the lake’s dropping levels.
The Gripentog family purchased a marina on Lake Mead in 1957. Now, three generations of the family – 19 family members in all – work at the marinas they own. Erin Charleston is a third-generation Gripentog. Inside the Las Vegas Boat Harbor and Marina, Charleston marks the current water level at Mead. At 37 percent of its full pool, Mead is the lowest it has ever been.
Charleston grew up at Mead, just as her mother did before her. She knows that there is plenty of water left in the lake. (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
But as the water levels continue to drop, the future of the lake – and of Charleston’s livelihood with it – is far from certain.
(Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
On Mead’s western shores, miles of exposed shoreline now ring the lake. (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
The future that the Gripentogs hope to avoid is one that they have witnessed. On Mead’s western shore, Echo Bay marina went dry several years ago as the shoreline receded. (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
At Echo Bay, beyond where the dry marina sits, families still play in the water. The Cirollo and Olmos families of Victorville, CA have continued to come to the bay, even after the marina closed. And while the lake is dropping, tourists continue to flood Mead, undeterred by the bleached-white bathtub ring that marks where water once rose. (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
A view of Mead from the lake’s southern shore. The aqua blue lake is a shock against the desert that stretches around it. (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
At the Grippentog’s second marina, Gail Gripentog, Erin’s mother, counts cash. As Mead shrinks, the Grippentogs must move their marina further inland, a process that costs approximately $100,000. In 2003, a particularly dry year, they moved the marina seven times. (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
Mussels now cling to the dry lake walls on the way out to a marina on Mead’s western shore, marking where water levels once rose. (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
At the dock on one of the Grippentogs’ marias, Raul Castro of Palm Springs, California, crouches by his two sons. Castro says that he brought them to Mead to teach them about the importance of water. (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
Now, though, the lake has dropped to an all-time low. Gary Gripentog, Gail’s brother, sits behind his desk at the Las Vegas Marina. Of whether Mead will return to its past levels, Gripentog shook his head. “Probably not, in my lifetime.” He continued: “The biggest problem is the unknown.” (Photo by Charlotte Weiner/GroundTruth)
