Superstorm Sandy Dictates a New Approach to Atlantic Coastal Development
In March 2011, I wrote a four-part article on the implications of Atlantis on our current culture. Using my vortexual theory
of history, I compared the concept of Atlantean-elite thinking to our
treatment of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Without
repeating all that I said about New Orleans being the new Atlantis, I can now update those concepts with new information. When Superstorm Sandy barreled up the East Coast of the United States, she trailed a banner reading, “Here I come. Are you ready for the New Atlantis?”
The myth of Atlantis is a cautionary tale. It is about a proud, arrogant
elite dominating a culture and denying the changes to its own climate
and its own mortality. As the Atlantean culture sank beneath the ocean
waves, the elites denied their problem until it was too late. Like
Atlantis, the lessons of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans remain
obscure. Now, with Superstorm Sandy fresh on our minds, we have another
chance to learn from disaster. If we learn our lessons, we may chart a better course for the future of the Mid-Atlantic region.
For
now, I will leave it to others to judge whether the initial search,
recovery and disaster relief efforts were well planned and executed.
Here in the West, the impact of Superstorm Sandy has been minimal.
Media reports only hint at the deprivation and discomfort that many
still feel. While writing this article, I stopped to send the text
message “Redcross” to 90999. With that action, I donated $10 to relief efforts in the wake of Superstorm Sandy.
In the aftermath of Katrina, disorganization, waste, fraud, graft and
corruption drained away assets and energy from legitimate hurricane
relief. Although it was obvious to many that New Orleans would never
return to its pre-Katrina size, shape and population, our collective consciousness
demanded otherwise. In the ensuing years, we saw formaldehyde-laced
trailers brought in for displaced families. Actor Brad Pitt's
architecturalcompetition attempted to create homes that could withstand Katrina type flooding. Like monuments to old energy thinking, a few Brad Pitt Houses now stand, waiting for their test in the next big hurricane.
When Hurricane Katrina led to collapse of levees around New Orleans, the
flooding was quick and deep. Residents caught in the flood either
found their way to attics and roofs, or drowned in their own homes.
Wind did not cause most of the damage, but rather it was the onslaught
of deep water. Now, over seven years later, we hear of people trapped
in their homes on Staten Island and other low-lying places near the
shore. This time, wind-driven storm surge multiplied the effects of an
astronomical high tide. Unlike New Orleans under Katrina, huge waves pummeled the mid-Atlantic shoreline.
After Katrina, roofs of intact houses poked above the floodwater. Along
the beaches of New Jersey, wave action and tidal surge ripped homes off
their foundations. Water and wind sent them inland, battering against
their defenseless neighbors. After Sandy, near the shoreline, many
houses no longer exist. Soon enough, the focus will turn to
“rebuilding” homes and neighborhoods. To that, I ask the question,
“Rebuilding what, where and how?”
Many yearn for the nostalgia of the old coastline, with its cottages,
piers and amusement parks. Sentimental people will want to rebuild the
old communities exactly as they were. Politicians will pander to those
desires. With sufficient political
pressure, Congress will authorize billions of dollars to rebuild
shoreline housing. Climate Change deniers will deem Superstorm Sandy an
anomaly, unrelated to human-caused degradation of the Earth’s atmosphere. With reconstruction funds available, the profit motive will once again try to dominate legitimate environmental concerns.
In my 2011 Atlantis articles, I advocated for an apolitical,
environment-first approach to disaster recovery. By then, it was too
late to bring rational thinking to the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
Soon after Superstorm Sandy is the best time to discuss our long-term
response and recovery plans. Stakeholders include homeowners, local, state and federal governments, plus all U.S. citizens. After all, we the taxpayers will ultimately pay most of the bill for both cleanup and
rebuilding. Here I propose a new solution for rebuilding residential
properties most vulnerable to mid-Atlantic storm surge.
First, we need a complete review of the federal flood insurance program
for the affected area. No one in the new floodplain should rebuild
under existing flood insurance programs. The flood maps were inadequate
and the potential for future destruction in those areas is high. If
anyone rebuilds in a Sandy-flooded area, it should be at his or her own
expense and risk, not at the risk of all.
Second, new flood maps must include more than the area flooded by Superstorm Sandy. In 2012, most of what remained of the Greenland ice cap melted away. In the next few years, both polar ice caps may be gone. New flood
maps for the mid-Atlantic region should include the consequent sea
level rise. With a realistic flood map, we can begin the redevelopment
of residential properties not deemed in imminent peril.
Third, we need to demand new structures that make sense to build and
insure. As the beaches of New Jersey now show us, rebuilding with
wood-frame houses is out of the question. Built on piles, a Brad Pitt
House is still vulnerable to high winds. The best way to rebuild would
be with rapidly relocatable or mobile housing. Although new standards for durability, insulation and storm worthiness would be necessary, the following is what I propose.
As in Paris under Napoleon, authorities would need to cut new access roads wide
enough for manufactured homes to travel inland. Similar to those in an
RV A residential lot would feature a concrete pad to support the home
and utility service connections. The utilities would need to withstand
wind, rain and salt-water immersion. To avoid the threat of fire, both
natural gas and electrical services should have smart meters that
feature remote shut-off capabilities. The actual housing could be of
several different types.
For the most vulnerable lots, housing should be highly mobile. In most
cases, a Class-A motorhome would suffice. Likewise, a fifth-wheel
motorhome would work on vulnerable lots, but a pickup truck capable of
towing the fifth wheel would have to be on scene. Monthly road tests
should be required. If a storm appeared, the owner could disconnect
from the water, gas and electric in less than an hour. Within two hours, the mobile summer cottage could be well inland and out of harm’s way.
For those who want a more substantial dwelling, an axle and wheel-mounted manufactured home would suffice. The recreational vehicle (RV) industry designates many such dwellings as “park models”.
Since these dwellings would move only in the event of an emergency,
attention to hitch-type and wheel/tire durability would be essential. If
planned properly, any over-the-road tractor
could tow these manufactured homes to safety. For these larger units,
turning radius, ground clearance and inland storage locations would be
important. In case of emergency, regional plans for towing these larger
units to safety would need to be in place.
The alternative to creating mobile seaside villages
would be to rebuild with vulnerable permanent structures or forgo
rebuilding entirely. During the recent presidential campaign, both
sides talked about bringing manufacturing jobs back to America. The
best way to do so is by upgrading the factory-built home and RV
industries. In the U.S., RV's and manufactured homes have no foreign
competition. To redevelop mid-Atlantic shoreline housing with anything
but relocatable dwellings and weather-resistant infrastructure would be
sheer folly.
By James McGillis at 10:12 AM | Environment | Comments (1) | Link