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Trouble bubbles for hydropower – From China to Norway, new hydroelectric schemes are supposed to help cut emissions of greenhouse gases. But will they? Fred Pearce investigates

SHIMMERING waters in remote mountain reservoirs providing hydroelectricity
seem a world away from the grimy coal-burning power stations of industrial
landscapes. Hydroelectric plants burn nothing and apparently cause no air
pollution—no acid rain, no grimy particles. They are, surely, the ultimate
clean sources of energy. Most countries categorise hydropower as a
“zero-emission technology”. And governments around the world are committed to
cutting their future output of greenhouse gases by building hydroelectric dams
instead of fossil-fuel power stations.

But their efforts may be misguided. Studies on reservoirs from the Canadian
Arctic and the jungles of the Brazilian Amazon are starting to show something
odd. Many of these large bodies of water—in effect pent-up energy waiting
to pour through turbines—themselves produce greenhouse gases. They give
off large amounts of both carbon dioxide and methane, which accumulate in the
atmosphere, trapping solar heat and so contributing to the greenhouse effect. As
a result some reservoirs cause more global warming than coal- or oil-fired power
stations producing the same amount of energy.

One of the worst offenders is the Balbina reservoir on the River
Uatumã, a tributary of the Amazon deep in the Brazilian rainforest. The
dam supplies most of the electricity for Manaus, the capital of the Amazon
region. It is a modest 50 metres high but floods 310 000 hectares of river
valley, an area the size of Lancashire or Luxembourg. From the air, the great
expanse of water looks more like a temporary flood than a permanent reservoir. A
third of the water is less than 4 metres deep and the skeletons of dead and
dying trees break the surface almost everywhere. Water flow is sluggish and much
of the reservoir is stagnant and covered in weeds.

In common with many other dam builders, the engineers who built the Balbina
dam in the mid-1980s made no effort to remove the trees before flooding the
site. With no accessible market for the timber, felling was not economically
viable, so the reservoir was allowed to inundate more than 100 million tonnes of
vegetation. As it decays most of the carbon it contains will eventually be
released into the air.

Reservoir bogs

Philip Fearnside, an ecologist at Brazil’s National Research Institute for
Amazonia, has studied the gases emitted from the reservoir. Decaying plants
breaking the surface water produce CO2, as does rotting vegetation in
the oxygenated waters within a metre or so of the surface. But vegetation in the
anaerobic waters produces methane. In shallow areas of the Balbina reservoir,
says Fearnside, “methane bubbling can be seen everywhere”. And more is lurking
in the depths. It is sometimes released suddenly, as happened in 1993 at
Balbina, killing thousands of fish. Otherwise, it may leak into the atmosphere
as water passes through the turbines.

Fearnside calculates that in the nine years since the Balbina reservoir
formed behind its dam, there has been a dramatic release of CO2. In
1988, the first year after flooding, the reservoir emitted more than 10 million
tonnes. Today, the annual figure has fallen to about a quarter of that. Methane
is produced much more slowly. In the first year, some 150 000 tonnes emerged
from the reservoir. But that figure will be maintained more or less
indefinitely. In the Amazon, says Fearnside, it takes 500 years for a tree trunk
to decay in anoxic water.

Assessing the damage resulting from the release of CO2 and methane
is complicated. CO2 persists much longer in the atmosphere—an
average molecule will stick around for a century, compared to a decade or so for
methane. But while it is there, methane is a much more potent greenhouse gas. So
what time frame should be used for any damage assessment? Fearnside adopts a
formula from the UN’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change that, for the
first century after its release, a molecule of methane will have 11 times as
powerful a greenhouse effect as a molecule of CO2. A longer time frame
produces a lower figure. A shorter period produces a higher figure. Over the
first 20 years, for instance, methane is 60 times as potent.

However the sums are done, it is clear that any increase in the amount of
vegetation rotting to methane rather than CO2 will have a major
influence on the greenhouse effect of a reservoir. Flooded forests are often
major sources of methane and none more so than those of the Amazon basin. Here,
says Fearnside, “the environment, devoid of oxygen, with relatively high
temperatures and high levels of nutrients, makes it ideal for methane-producing
decay processes”. Even without artificial flooding, the Amazon is “one of the
world’s major sources of methane”, says Fearnside. About 2 per cent of the
Amazon region—around 100 000 square kilometres—floods for part of
each year. And reservoirs add significantly to the region’s natural propensity
to generate methane.

Dam pollution

At Balbina, Fearnside has aggregated the greenhouse effect of methane and
CO2 to give a “CO2 equivalent”, that he can compare directly
with emissions from fossil-fuel power stations. He calculates that Balbina
emitted the equivalent of more than 12 million tonnes of CO2 in its
first year. That figure fell to some 7 million tonnes in 1990 and to around 2
million tonnes last year. It will slip below 1 million tonnes in about 10 years’
time, and drop to 0.5 million tonnes in perhaps 50 years.

How do these figures compare with conventional power stations? Balbina’s
average output of electricity in the first eight years of its operation was 112
megawatts—not much for a reservoir the size of an English county. It
floods the equivalent of two soccer pitches to generate enough power to run a
1-kilowatt electric fire.

If the Balbina dam had not been built, the authorities in Manaus would
probably have constructed a conventional power station burning diesel and fuel
oil. Such a plant would have produced annual emissions—almost all of it
carbon dioxide—of some 0.4 million tonnes, says Fearnside. So far, Balbina
has had something like 16 times as potent a greenhouse effect as an equivalent
fossil-fuel power station. And, says Fearnside, despite gradually reduced
emissions, it will continue to be more polluting “for 50 years, and probably
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Fearnside has looked at other reservoirs in Brazil. None is as bad as Balbina
but emissions are far from negligible. Take the giant Tucuruí dam on the
River Tocantins. Completed in 1984, it is one of the world’s ten most powerful
hydroelectric dams, with a capacity of 4000 megawatts. It flooded a little less
forest than Balbina, but generates more than 30 times as much power. Even so,
after six years of operation, it was still emitting the equivalent of almost 3
million tonnes of CO2 per annum. This is almost half as much as a
fossil-fuel power station of a similar capacity, says Fearnside. He estimates
that in 1990, Brazil’s four rainforest reservoirs were producing the equivalent
of some 11 million tonnes of CO2 annually.

Trends in the North

It is hard to imagine two environments more different than the Amazon
rainforest and the Canadian Arctic. Yet here too researchers have found high
emissions of greenhouse gases from reservoirs. Canada has hydroelectric
reservoirs covering about 20 000 square kilometres, an area nearly the size of
Wales. They produce around 60 per cent of the country’s electricity.

Three years ago, John Rudd and his colleagues at the Canadian government’s
Freshwater Research Institute in Winnipeg investigated several hydroelectric
sites to produce the first detailed calculations of gas production from
reservoirs. Rudd concluded that upland forests and peat bogs—the two main
habitats flooded for reservoirs in Canada—”are sites of intense microbial
decomposition and greenhouse gas production when they become covered in
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At the Notigi reservoir in northern Manitoba, Rudd found that two years after
the flooding of a forest there were massive amounts of methane dissolved in the
surface layers of the lake. He estimated that annual production at that time was
more than 7 grams of methane for every square metre of the reservoir’s surface.
In a second study Rudd’s team looked at methane and CO2 emissions from
flooded peat bogs. They found still higher gas production—up to 30 grams
of methane and between 450 and 1800 grams of CO2 per square metre.

Rudd calculated the likely impact of these gases on the atmosphere during the
expected 50-year productive lifetime of a hydroelectric reservoir. He estimated
that two-thirds of the vegetation and soil flooded by new reservoirs would decay
over that period, but much less of the woody material. And that up to a tenth of
the carbon in the vegetation would be released as methane, with the rest forming
CO2. Averaged over the 50 years, he says, each square metre of a
typical reservoir in northern Canada will emit the equivalent of between 400 and
700 grams of CO2 per year—the higher figures corresponding to
those reservoirs where peat bog dominates.

Is this worse than a fossil fuel plant? Again, it depends on how much land is
flooded and how much electricity is generated. In another study, Rudd looked in
detail at the Cedar Lake reservoir, part of the Grand Rapids hydroelectric
project in northern Manitoba. He estimates that, over its lifetime, the
greenhouse effect of the 1200 square kilometre lake will be almost identical to
that of an equivalent coal-fired power station.

Critics say that Cedar Lake, like Balbina in Brazil, is an extreme case. Luc
Gagnon of Hydro-Quebec, the company that runs the huge James Bay hydroelectric
complex in Quebec, points out that Cedar Lake floods six times as much land for
every megawatt of generating capacity as the James Bay reservoirs. And he says
Rudd exaggerated the effect of methane emissions by assigning it a greenhouse
effect 60 times that of CO2, compared to Fearnside’s factor of 11.

There is no one right way of doing this calculation. Rudd is simply
reflecting the impact of methane over a shorter timescale. But Gagnon points out
that if Rudd had used Fearnside’s formula, it would nearly halve the calculated
greenhouse effect of Cedar Lake’s emissions.

Despite the different methodologies of Fearnside and Rudd, there is no
denying that hydroelectric reservoirs are contributing to the greenhouse effect.
Both scientists agree that the overall impact on global warming is too great to
be ignored. And yet, so far, that is just what is happening. More than 150
countries have signed the Climate Change Convention and are currently
negotiating national targets and timetables for reductions in emissions of
greenhouse gases. To aid their work, scientists are preparing national
inventories of current emissions. Reservoirs could prove to be a significant
part of many nations’ outputs of greenhouse gases. Yet, to date, no country has
included emissions from reservoirs in those inventories.

Flood plans

Balbina is not the only reservoir flooding huge areas to produce relatively
small amounts of electricity. The Akosombo dam in Ghana has inundated more than
11 000 square kilometres of lush tropical vegetation, flooding an area
equivalent to more than one soccer pitch for every kilowatt of capacity. In
Russia, the Kuibyshev dam on the Volga floods half a soccer pitch for each
kilowatt, and the Tsimlyansk on the Don floods two pitches for each
kilowatt.

If all Canada’s reservoirs emit as much greenhouse gases per square kilometre
of their surface area as Rudd estimates, then over the next 50 years they will,
on average, emit the equivalent of 13.8 million tonnes of CO2. That
would add 12 per cent to Canada’s national emissions.

Brazil has plans for a massive reservoir-building programme in the Amazon
region that would increase the surface area of the country’s reservoirs
twentyfold. That, says Fearnside, would raise emissions of greenhouse gases from
Brazil’s reservoirs to the equivalent of more than 200 million tonnes of CO
2
a year—over three times the country’s current annual emissions from
burning fossil fuels.

Worldwide, the amount of land flooded by hydroelectric reservoirs is around
600 000 square kilometres—an expanse of water larger than the North Sea.
At Canadian rates of emissions that would produce more than 400 million tonnes
of CO2 equivalent, or 7 per cent of total man-made emissions of CO
2
. And with many more reservoirs planned, Fearnside warns that they are “a
significant source of emissions of greenhouse gases that can no longer be
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