The Nation: Marin County: The Bucket Brigade

In an area where the living had been easy, life was suddenly a chore. The same wild weather conditions that had isolated Buffalo in the snow—and frozen Florida’s oranges—had also aggravated the 13-month drought that has plagued eight Western states. A high-pressure system lay off the West Coast, diverting winds northward to pick up arctic cold and blocking the normal flow of moisture to the West. In California, the loss in crops and other agricultural production may exceed $1 billion, and the water shortage is already affecting daily living in some unlikely places. One is Marin County, an affluent, scenic suburban area just across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco.

Dry Life. Marin has plenty of water —all the wrong kind. Its peninsula affords magnificent views of the Pacific, San Pablo Bay and Drakes Bay. But the county’s fresh-water reservoirs are inadequate. For years the residents have been voting down bond issues that would have supplemented the reservoirs —partly on the theory that limiting water would be one way to restrict unwanted growth. But last week the water supply was so low that county officials ordered a tough system of enforced rationing. Depending upon the number of residents in a home, each individual will be limited to between 32 and 49 gallons a day. That is roughly enough water to flush a toilet seven times or take a five-minute shower. The cost, moreover, will nearly triple, from 46¢ per 100 cu. ft. (748 gal.) to $1.22. Anyone who exceeds the ration will be billed a punishing $10 to $50 per cu. ft. for the excess.

The result has been a rash of new habits. Men have been surprised to learn that a shave normally consumes 2% gal. of water; they are no longer filling wash basins just to cut whiskers. Julie Graham, a San Rafael housewife with three children, uses a pail to catch the cool water her husband runs until he gets hot water for shaving. She carries it in a bucket to the kitchen to wash dishes. Then she collects the dishwater in another pail, as well as water from the clothes washer, and uses it to flush toilets. “I’ve spent $30 on buckets,” she protests. “I’m tempted to send the bill to the water company.”

Even prisoners at San Quentin are cooperating by taking unusually fast showers—and only three times a week, instead of daily.

State officials have asked restaurants not to serve water with meals unless a diner insists. They figure it takes two glasses of water to wash each glass and estimate the savings—if all the restaurants in the state comply—at 1 million gallons a day. At the Taverna Yiasou Restaurant in Marin County, Manager Beth Taylor has gone even further: she has switched to paper plates, thus conserving the water normally used for 25 loads of dishes at each lunchtime.

Last week there were sure signs that the residents of Marin County were adjusting to the dry life. They cut their daily consumption of water from 15.6 million gallons a week to 10.4 million, well under the goal of 12 million set by water officials. Declared Dietrich Stroeh, manager of the Marin municipal water district: “The response is simply amazing. The more we save now, the more we bank for summer.”