With the country’s largest congressional delegation, a powerhouse agricultural industry, an economy on pace to overtake Germany’s, and cities home to some of America’s deep-pocketed political donors, California is the force to be reckoned with in Colorado River negotiations.

That is, when the state knows what it wants.

While the Imperial Irrigation District and a handful of other century-old farm communities in southern California hold the largest and most legally powerful rights to the river’s water, it is the state’s coastal metropolises that give it much of its might. And they have the most vulnerable water rights.

Hamby’s job, now, is to get them to hold together around a single position in negotiations with the six other states.

His role as the state’s lead representative in interstate negotiations also makes him chair of the Colorado River Board of California, an entity composed of the major river users within the state. The post comes with big responsibilities, but very little authority to actually pull them off. Instead, the real power in California lies with the biggest water districts, which each hold their own contracts with the federal government for deliveries.

“He’s in the position of herding cats right now,” said Bart Fisher, a grower in California’s Palo Verde region who helmed the state’s Colorado River board during the last major negotiations among the states in the early 2000s and nominated Hamby for the leadership job in January.

Hamby wasn’t most of those cats’ first choice for the job.

The Colorado River Board chair has traditionally been held by a representative for one of the state’s three big farm districts — a move seen as fit since more than three-quarters of the state’s water rights are held by agriculture. The previous chair, who came from the Coachella Valley’s agricultural industry, was too busy with his day job and was stepping down. Fisher was also full-up with business and family responsibilities.

That left Hamby.

But this time the urban half of the board didn’t easily line up behind the farmers’ pick. A representative from the city of San Diego made a last-minute run. The series of votes that culminated in Hamby’s victory were filled with back-stabbing and palace intrigue that the urbanites are still smarting over 11 months later. It didn’t help that Hamby turned around after the vote and hired San Diego’s archnemesis, a brilliant but risk-taking veteran of California’s water wars, as a consultant for Imperial in the talks.

For now, the San Diego faction is holding its fire. But all sides have made clear: They’re watching Hamby’s every move.