The Neuse River Air Force
By Phil Bowie
Photos by Rick Dove


Waterkeepers are typically identified by their patrol boats, but on occasion Waterkeepers take to the skies. It’s a natural connection – the work of patrolling our watersheds is in large part monitoring and observation. An aerial platform provides an unfettered view of terrain, water and human activity. Getting a bit of elevation allows you to patrol above stretches of rapids and other obstructions that make upstream areas difficult to access and to see things that cannot always be seen clearly from the ground or water.


We’re probably the world’s smallest air force – originally about 20 pilots strong – but Neuse River polluters have learned we can sting painfully despite our size.

Early in 1994, I heard that Neuse Riverkeeper Rick Dove, a retired Marine Corps judge, was looking for a few good pilots. Along with a dozen or so others, I tentatively volunteered. Rick was concerned about the large corporate hog factories that were cropping up all across eastern North Carolina with virtually no regulation. He deduced the best way to check up on the situation was from the air. Most of the operations had been posted against trespassing and were located out of sight from public waters and roads. He had every legal right, however, to fly 1,000 feet or higher over such operations, take photos and shoot video. To the polluters’ chagrin, there are no “no trespassing” signs in the sky.

Within a short period of time, our group was regularly patrolling the 6,100 square mile watershed, scouting for pollution sources. They were not hard to find. From the air they stuck out like a sore thumb – overburdened wastewater plants discharging untreated human waste; oil and gas leaking in rainbow ribbons from boats, barges and junkyards; sediments from logging and construction; and, worst of all, hog operations with their sprawling waste lagoons and sprayfields discharging waste to the river.

Rick’s initial attempts to bring pollution situations to the attention of state and local government agencies were met with indifference. But the photo evidence was growing and his doggedness would soon show results.

Gradually our group was reduced to a hardcore half-dozen well-trained pilots and photographers. Our main mission was to fly evidence-gathering sorties to directly support lawsuits that Rick and the Neuse River Foundation initiated. Sometimes the flight schedule was grueling. From March to June 2003 alone we logged more than 100 flight hours. We also educated a lot of folks along the way. We flew environmentalists, state officials, campaigning politicians, members of the Neuse River Foundation, and, perhaps most importantly, the media. Stories about the river’s plight soon numbered in the thousands, with news crews visiting from Canada, Britain, France, Japan, Australia and Germany.

The 400 hours of video and some 40,000 stills we shot were irrefutable evidence, convincing many skeptics of the damage being done. Reporters came back to the ground to write compelling stories about the vista from 2,000 feet: 50 or more hog operations, vivid skirts of algae blanketing the wetlands and streams near their lagoons and the stench of the gasses rising in invisible noxious clouds filling their nostrils.

From the air, the pollution damage was clear. We saw vast fish kills and massive algea blooms that clogged many of the Neuse creeks so that some people could no longer use boats from their home docks. But no event glaringly illustrated the pollution threat more than Hurricane Floyd in 1999, which left hundreds of hog waste lagoons and hog confinement buildings flooded. We documented millions of hogs, turkeys and chickens dead in heaps with some carcasses floating down the river. Video and stills that Rick took tell the sad story vividly, and can be seen on two of his websites: www.neuseriver.com and www.doveimaging.com.

Under the pressure of lawsuits and the relentless media heat, with even Dateline and 60 Minutes joining the fray, the state had to pay attention. They allocated funds to relocate junkyards and upgrade several failing wastewater plants. They enacted a moratorium – still in effect today – on any new hog operations, and entered into an agreement with major hog producers to phase out the lagoon/sprayfield system.

In his speeches, Rick credits the Neuse River Air Force as being the single most important resource in bringing about the restoration of the Neuse River.

These days our Air Force flies expanded patrols for the Waterkeeper Alliance as well as for the Neuse River Foundation. Well-known lawyer and environmentalist Bob Epting and retired Marine Corps jet pilot Ron Smith have been especially active in the effort.

The hog population in North Carolina is 10 million strong and still polluting, and, as always it seems, there are too many others in addition to hog operators among us who carelessly abuse our public waters for their own gain. But the Neuse River Foundation has 3,000 caring members supporting the ongoing work of our current energetic Neuse Riverkeepers, Dean Naujoks and Larry Baldwin, whose victories are numerous and varied.

We’re winning, but there is still a long tough fight ahead.

The Neuse River Air Force will be there to help.

The job of following sediment pollution upstream to its source becomes much easier by the air. The sediment seen here running into the Neuse River from Crabtree Creek in Raleigh, North Carolina was tracked 250 miles downstream to the Neuse Estuary. Photos taken along the way showed all other tributaries sediment free. Volunteers from Raleigh immediately took photographs from a number of ground sites showing illegal sediment discharges into Crabtree Creek. The ground and air photographs received a great deal of media attention and ultimately led to reform of the state's sedimentation regulations in 1996.

From left to right, Lower Neuse Riverkeeper, Larry Baldwin and two of the Neuse River Air Force pilots, Ron Smith and Phil Bowie, with their planes at the New Bern Airport, North Carolina.