On the 6th of July, 1988, a flurry of unusual calls came in to the South West Water Authority’s
Communication Centre in England.
The calls were all from residents of the same small part of Cornwall, and all revolved around
similar complaints: something was wrong with their drinking water.
It tasted off.
It was dark and grainy.
It left residue on their skin.
Although none of these callers knew it at the time, they were experiencing one of the
largest-scale mass poisoning accidents in modern British history.
The Lowermoor Water Treatment Works is a facility which prepares drinking water for distribution
across North Cornwall.
Water is taken in from a nearby reservoir, subjected to a number of different physical
and chemical processes to make it clean and safe to drink, and then pumped out into the
network of water pipes which supplies the county.
To ensure a supply of clean and fresh water, the Works must be stocked with a number of
different chemicals.
One of these is aluminium sulphate, a substance which is added early in the treatment process
in order to cause particles in the water to clump together, making them easier to remove.
Because it is added early in the process, by the time drinking water has been fully
processed, aluminium sulphate is no longer present in any appreciable quantity.
On the 6th of July, 1988, a delivery of aluminium sulphate was due at the Works.
The tanker driver who would normally make this delivery was unavailable, and so the
job was passed on to a relief driver.
His name was John Stephens.
Mr Stephens was unfamiliar with the route, and arrived at the plant later than planned.
He found the place deserted.
Nobody was on hand to advise him where to unload… but that wasn’t a problem.
He already had instructions regarding this: he had been told that “once inside the gate,
the aluminium sulphate tank is on the left”.
This simple instruction, however, proved to be insufficient.
There were many tanks and manhole covers, all unlabelled.
Mr Stephens was unsure which was the right one.
Mobile phones were, at the time, not yet available, and there was no landline phone on site with
which he could call for more guidance.
After around 20 minutes of indecision, Mr Stephens picked a tank on the left inside
the gate and tried to open it with a key he’d been given.
The key worked, leading Mr Stephens to conclude that he had picked the correct tank.
Relieved, he pulled his vehicle into position and began to discharge the aluminium sulphate.
What Mr Stephens didn’t realise was that the key he had been given would actually open
any tank on site.
And the tank he was unloading his cargo into was, in fact, the wrong one.
Rather than feeding into the system early in the process, this tank contained water
that was fully processed, and ready to be sent out to homes and businesses.
That evening, residents in the nearby town of Camelford began to notice something wrong
with their drinking water.
It had an unusual smell and taste.
It caused the milk in their tea to curdle.
In some places it was black rather than clear.
One resident even reported that, after bathing in this water, his hair became stuck together
in a mass as though he had covered it with glue.
Many people who noticed the strange quality of the water placed calls to the South West
Water Authority’s Communication Centre.
On duty was Susan Jones, who was immediately alarmed by the nature and quantity of the
calls she was receiving.
She asked her colleagues for advice, but was unsatisfied with the response she got.
She later said: “I felt I was banging my head against a
brick wall.
Nobody seemed to be listening.
I asked how I should answer people who wanted to know if it was safe and I was told it was
safe to drink.
I was told there was no health risk…”
This was what Susan Jones was told, and in turn this is what the residents of Camelford
and the surrounding towns were told as well.
There was no risk to their health, they were assured – the water was entirely safe to
drink.
Around 30,000 people did just that – drinking in, cooking with, or bathing in the contaminated
water.
Over the next few days hundreds of people suffered stomach cramps, aching joints, rashes
on their skin, ulcers in their mouths, and vomiting and diarrhoea.
But despite many reports of adverse health effects, the Water Authority remained staunch
in their assertion that nothing was amiss – even going so far as to advise residents
to mix their water with orange juice in order to cover up the unpleasant taste.
While encouraging people to keep calm and carry on as normal, the Water Authority was
undertaking an investigation into what had happened.
On the 8th of July it was noted that the aluminium sulphate tank was emptier than it should be,
and it was finally pieced together what had happened.
John Stephens, the driver who had made the initial aluminium sulphate delivery, returned
to the works with an engineer to demonstrate exactly what he had done.
With this confirmation, the Water Authority finally knew for certain what was wrong with
the water.
Twelve days after this was established, the public were informed via a notice in a local
paper.
The advice remained the same: the water was safe to drink.
During this time, however, residents experienced a number of bizarre issues with their water
supply.
One man reported that flushing his toilet had generated a visible fog that, when inhaled,
caused a nosebleed.
A pet shop owner saw several guinea pigs die after drinking tap water, and many residents
complained that their hair was turning green.
Farmers reported that an unusual number of their livestock were dying.
Residents complained of memory loss, exhaustion and nausea.
The Water Authority flushed the pipes with clean, safe water.
This process caused tens of thousands of fish in a nearby river to die… and brought to
light that the tanks had not been cleaned in several years, despite a maintenance schedule
dictating that they should be cleaned every six months.
After a time, the strange symptoms experienced by the residents of Camelford and its surrounding
villages faded away.
Multiple investigations were carried out to try and understand the long-term effects of
the accident.
One inquiry after another concluded that the water had been safe to drink – and that
the medical issues experienced by residents were simply every day illnesses, the severity
of which had been exacerbated by anxiety about the state of their water supply.
The problem, in short, was psychosomatic.
It was all in their heads.
This conclusion has been hotly debated ever since.
Residents affected by the accident are displeased to have been characterised as hysterical,
and likewise angry about the significant delay in telling them what was wrong with their
water supply.
They were denied medical damages, although around half a million pounds in compensation
was eventually awarded, and a fine of £10,000 was levied against the South West Water Authority.
Some events in the years since the accident have fuelled the debate.
In 2004, a woman named Carole Cross died of a rare form of dementia at the age of 58.
During her autopsy, a large amount of aluminium was found in her brain.
The coroner issued a statement, saying: “I can say that the incident may either have
contributed to or possibly caused Mrs Cross's death, but I do not have sufficient evidence
to say so conclusively.”
Mrs Cross is not the only person who was exposed who has been found to have an unusually high
concentration of aluminium in their body.
A resident of the area who underwent a bone biopsy was found to have an unusual accretion
of aluminium in their bone, and another resident who died of old age was found to have a very
high level of aluminium in their brain.
Decades on from the disaster, many residents assert that they still suffer the consequences
of the poisoning.
They complain of premature aging, symptoms of dementia, generalised pain and fatigue
and skin sensitivity.
They demand another inquiry, this time informed by experts in aluminium toxicity.
At this point in time, it seems unlikely that their request will be granted.
All inquiries carried out to date have concluded that the water was safe to drink.
The Camelford Poisoning Incident has cast a long shadow.
Decades of uncertainty, conflict, ill-health and anger… and all of it stemming from a
simple mistake.
A misunderstanding which could have been avoided simply by clearer instructions, the clear
labelling of tanks, or the fitting of different locks to different tanks – simple safeguards
designed to minimise the chance of human error.