Down to earth
As protecting our world becomes more important, we are launching a new series to champion those finding ways to help mother nature. First, we meet Karen Shackleton, 51, from Yorkshire, who is turning the tide on pollution in her local river
The River Wharfe has been important to me all my life. I was born in the spa town of Ilkley and I played in the river with my friends. We’d spend hours there in the summer, trying to capsize each other off rubber rings, fishing for bullheads or just watching the wildlife – there were kingfishers and herons. It was idyllic. Growing up in Ilkley instilled a love of nature in me. When I was eight, my teacher wrote on my school report: ‘Karen just loves wildlife – she’s going to do something with that.’
She was right. I began working as a dog walker and became active in Wharfedale Naturalists Society, which records wildlife across the Wharfe Valley. We worked alongside local anglers to clear the area of the river from invasive plants such as Himalayan balsam, so wildflowers could thrive. I made lots of friends through the group, including one angler in particular, Steve Fairbourn.
In 2018, Steve told me that he was catching more toilet paper and wet wipes than fish. The Environment Agency (EA) permits the release of untreated sewage into rivers after exceptional rainfall to stop sewage treatment plants being overloaded. But Steve said he had seen sewage discharged after 20 minutes of rainfall – hardly exceptional in Yorkshire! Steve and his wife, Kathleen, had been lobbying Yorkshire Water and the EA, but they were getting nowhere.
The next time it rained, I went to see the problem for myself. The river was high and in full flow. A plume of sewage was gushing out with such force that it went straight across to the opposite bank and far downstream. It was, effectively, an open sewer. I was horrified.
It was harming the wildlife, as when sewage breaks down it takes oxygen out of the water. It was very bad for the community as well. Families visit the river with children. There are open-water swimmers. There’s a fishing club. There are playing fields either side and a children’s park. There’s a riverside pub, where people drink and socialise. The river runs through the town.
I could not sit back and watch this happen, knowing that wildlife could be wiped out and children wouldn’t be able to enjoy the river like I had.
I’d never run a campaign or lobbied before, so I turned to other people for help. Professor Rebecca Maltby had saved Ilkley Lido from closure. I walked her dog, and when I told her what was happening, she was on board. She suggested a public meeting with York
