Near the southwest shore of the Salton Sea, a billboard greets visitors. Its brightly colored banners depict an array of activities: golf, boating, fishing, camping and nature trails. A large red arrow pointed toward the lake suggests these recreational opportunities are available nearby. Yet the billboard is tattered: fading, peeling and tagged with graffiti.
The signage is an emblem of the former resort destination’s decline. In the 1950s and ’60s, vacationers flocked to the Golden State’s largest lake for water sports, outdoor recreation and entertainment by the likes of Frank Sinatra and the Beach Boys.
Today, the sea is shrinking, exposing areas of dusty lake bed, or playa, at its edges. The shoreline is crowded not with sunbathers but with thousands of hay bales — part of a strategy to reduce windblown dust from the playa that sickens nearby residents.
Fish bones and barnacle shells crunch underfoot. The sea’s increasing salinity and toxic runoff from the region’s agricultural industry have devastated marine life and made the water unsafe for human recreation. On hot, humid days, when the sea releases hydrogen sulfide gas, a “rotten egg” stink permeates the air.
In towns adjacent to the sea, where a resort “riviera” was once envisioned, run-down mobile home communities are signs of profound economic despair among the predominantly Latino community. Poverty and unemployment rates in the area exceed state averages. Opportunities beyond low-wage, seasonal work at local farms — which supply up to two-thirds of the United States’ winter fruits and vegetables — are few.
Yet approximately a mile below the surface of the Salton Sea’s south shore area lies a resource so sought-after that it has the potential to radically transform the area’s fortunes, the sea’s health — and the country’s electric future.