All David Remlinger tried to do was earn a profit by preserving some local farmland and a swath of western Washington environment. After five years, he's done just about as much good for the land and the environment as anyone could imagine. But the profit-earning part, that's another story, and so far a frustrating one.

It was late 2000 when Remlinger and his partner, Steve Davison, spent $550,000 to buy a failing farm in the floodplain of the Skykomish River, just south of Monroe in Snohomish County. They had ambitious plans to raise nursery stock and also develop a composting business on the site. But then one day an agent from Snohomish County appeared, and told them the Department of Surface Water Management wanted them to lower a dike that kept the swift Skykomish from flooding their property. It was necessary, he explained, in order to reduce flooding on numerous farms across the river from theirs.

Only one small problem: Lowering that dike would flood their farm and doom their business.

Remlinger and Davison were less than thrilled with the county's plan. However, not long after this bad news, Steve was walking the river and met a draftsman who'd taken his young daughter out fishing on that stretch of the Skykomish.

The draftsman, who worked for an environmental engineering firm, listened as Steve talked about the farm's uncertain future and the county's threat. The draftsman looked over the land, noted its proximity to the river, and gave them a better idea: turn this marginal farmland into a bank. Not a bank with vaults and cash and other negotiables, but a bank that makes its money by preserving the region's disappearing wetlands and other natural habitat. In the bargain, said the engineer, they could make back their money - and then some. Good money by doing good. In the parlance of this developing industry here, it's called a mitigation bank.

On paper, at least, it seems straightforward: You start by taking a large parcel of land and returning it to its natural state. On Remlinger's 258 acres, that meant bringing in heavy equipment and digging everything up, separating 800,000 yards of gravel from the mountains of material they had scooped out, and then putting the soil back in place to support wetland plants. This lowered the level of the property by 10 to 15 feet, so that when they cut braided channels through it, exposing river rocks, the waters from the Skykomish created new salmon spawning habitat. To date, they've planted 158,000 native plants, they continue culling unwanted invasive species, and they plan to plant another 150,000 or so more trees and shrubs. Already, salmonid fry dart about the man-made shallows. That's the "doing good" part. The money part supposedly flows in when a home builder tries to create a subdivision or when the state Department of Transportation is widening a highway - and neither can come up with a way to save a natural wetland or recreate similar habitat on the sites they're developing. Because the law requires that they mitigate - that is, replace - any lost wetland no matter what, Remlinger and Davison want to get on board a national trend that would permit developers of such projects to purchase wetland "credits" from this newly refurbished habitat.

At anywhere from $200,000 to $300,000 for an acre of credit, there's potential for serious money simply by providing developers an option that's both cost effective and environmentally preferable. Except that the creation of the Skykomish Habitation Mitigation Bank, expected to take two to three years, has now stretched beyond five. Federal, state and local agencies, struggling with an unfamiliar process, admit they have dragged out precious time at the expense of the bank.