Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Early this February, the Outer Banks battled severe winter weather, a closed main highway due to overwash, and iced-over ferry terminals. But amidst the freeze, a more permanent disaster unfolded. On Feb. 1 and 2, the Atlantic Ocean claimed its latest prize: four homes in Buxton.

This brings the total number of properties lost to the ocean since 2020 to 31. While these collapses create a spectacle on social media and news outlets, for coastal managers, they are anticipated events and a reminder of our losing battle against an ever-encroaching sea.

The consequences from each collapse extend beyond the individual homeowners. Scattered debris creates hazardous conditions that close shorelines, deter tourists, and threaten the local tourism economy.

While homeowners are technically responsible for hiring contractors for debris removal, county and National Park Service crews from the neighboring Cape Hatteras National Seashore are often left to fill the gap. And until cleanup is complete, waves of nails, furniture, septic systems, and splintered wood create dangerous conditions for neighbors, tourists, and wildlife. Ultimately, we are trying to force static buildings onto dynamic barrier islands, and the islands are fighting back.

The sand subscription trap

Most of these threatened homes were built on these barrier islands between the 1970s and 1990s, originally standing hundreds of feet from the Atlantic Ocean. Today, homes in the Outer Banks cling to a shoreline eroding at rates of up to about 20 feet per year. This erosion is driven by rising sea levels, expected to increase locally by 15 to 22 inches by 2050, and intensified coastal storms.

Currently, our primary adaptation strategy is beach nourishment, the artificial pumping of sand onto existing beaches to resist erosion and protect inland structures. However, this strategy is proving unsustainable. The rate of erosion has simply outpaced our administrative capacity to fund, permit, and engineer new projects. The beach in front of the latest collapses in Buxton was nourished less than four years ago. In essence, we are signing up for a recurring subscription to sand, one that costs more every year while protecting homes for a shorter period.

The case for buyouts

What most reports on these collapses fail to highlight is that a financially viable solution exists. A 2023 Western Carolina University cost-benefit analysis of Rodanthe, a community on the Outer Banks that has seen 12 collapses since 2020, found that long-term beach nourishment would cost the municipality approximately $120 million over 15 years. In contrast, it would cost just over $40 million to proactively buy out and remove the 80 most at-risk homes.

While the recent collapses in Buxton are making headlines, Buxton and Rodanthe, as the two communities where homes have collapsed, face different realities. Buxton is largely a year-round community where erosion threatens the broader tourism-driven economy, though the collapsing oceanfront homes themselves are primarily second homes. Conversely, Rodanthe is largely composed of vacation homes with a relatively small tax base.

Further, the somewhat recently completed “Jug-Handle” Rodanthe Bridge bypassed Rodanthe’s erosion hot spot, which has mitigated need to protect that stretch of highway. The exorbitant costs of beach nourishment and limited funds make Rodanthe unlikely to afford nourishment, and make buyouts the most logical strategy.

Buyouts are a tool for managed retreat where local, state, or federal governments purchase hazard-prone homes to relocate residents and demolish the existing structures, creating open space that naturally buffers against coastal flooding.

While beach nourishment projects in this region are projected to last about five years, a buyout is a permanent removal of the risk. There is already a precedent for this in Rodanthe as well. In 2023, the National Park Service used funds from offshore oil and gas leasing earnings to buy and demolish two threatened homes before they collapsed.

Breaking the insurance cycle

Critics often point to the loss of local tax revenue as a barrier to buyouts. However, the WCU study found that property tax revenue lost from these 80 homes, valued between $7 to $10 million over 30 years, is still significantly less than the cost to maintain the beach through nourishment. Further, our current system under federal guidelines creates deep regional inequities. Reimbursement for beach nourishment projects is only available to communities that can first afford millions to construct an engineered beach.

Only when a disaster is declared does a beach become eligible to receive emergency funding for the volume of sand lost during a specific storm-related disaster. Because of the steep costs of nourishment, only affluent communities with wealthier tax bases can afford to protect their homes.

Where federal dollars don’t pay for sand, the inherent risk of living along an eroding shoreline is subsidized through the National Flood Insurance Program (NFIP). Local and federal agencies lack the authority to force homeowners to demolish their compromised properties and therefore proactive removal is entirely voluntary and costs homeowners over $25,000 out-of-pocket. Homeowners with mortgages in these flood zones are incentivized to wait for the inevitable to be eligible to receive up to $250,000 for the structure and $100,000 for contents from the NFIP only after their home has collapsed.

Congress is largely unresponsive to escalating climate risks associated with intensifying hazards and subsequent uninsurable flood risks. Even when there have been legislative reforms to the NFIP, there have been unintended consequences for homeowners who are unable to afford higher premiums and also unable to sell their properties, with disproportionate impacts on vulnerable communities. With Rodanthe consisting primarily of vacation rentals, there is a deep equity question about how to fairly allocate taxpayer funds when low- and middle-income households are disproportionately impacted by flooding nationwide.

There is bipartisan recognition that this system must change. In 2025, Rep. Greg Murphy, R-N.C.-3, co-sponsored the Preventing Environmental Hazards Act (H.R.3161) to address this issue. The bill would authorize advance NFIP payouts of up to 40% of a home’s value up to $250,000 to proactively help homeowners demolish threatened homes before they collapse. To build on this, experts propose a “discounts for buyouts” reform to the NFIP, offering homeowners lower premiums in exchange for their agreement to sell their home and relocate once their home is substantially damaged by flooding. In addition, by prioritizing residences valued at under $250,000, the NFIP could equitably relocate vulnerable primary homes over wealthy second-home owners.

Proactive planning over reactive cleanup

Buyout programs are not a “silver bullet” to ongoing erosion and sea level rise. They come with emotional consequences, including homeowner displacement and impacts to community identity. Also, a large-scale buyout program would undoubtedly require significant local, state, and/or federal funds to remove these at-risk properties. However, voluntary programs that give homeowners autonomy over decisions on whether to participate in buyouts can mitigate these social costs.

One of the biggest hurdles is politics. Supporting government-funded buyouts can be seen as admitting defeat to the environment and is a political liability. Andrew Coburn, the associate director of the program for the Study of Developed Shorelines at WCU, noted that it is hard to imagine that a politician would ever tell their constituents, “Well, I guess it’s time we retreated.” Instead, we let the ocean decide when retreat from the shoreline happens, often at a much higher long-term cost.

The Outer Banks is an early warning sign for the rest of the U.S. coastline. While the only option appears to be expensive and temporary beach nourishment and insurance bailouts, there is a more holistic, science-based solution where long-term benefits outweigh the costs.

The logical solution is based on the values and needs of the broader Outer Banks community, U.S. taxpayers, the long-term health of the ecosystem, and equity. In the face of the 32nd collapse, we must shift from the cycle of federal subsidies and reactive cleanups toward insurance reforms and proactive retreat programs that offer homeowners a viable way out, before the Atlantic decides for them.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues.

The news that the entire Atlantic Coast, including North Carolina waters, has been excluded from the latest offshore drilling Draft Proposed Program is a welcome moment of relief for coastal communities. This exclusion is a direct result of decades of tireless, bipartisan opposition from citizens, businesses, and elected officials who have sent a message to Washington, D.C.: Our coast is not a chip at the poker table.

But let’s be crystal clear: This is a temporary reprieve, not a permanent victory. Without permanent federal protection, the oil industry will be back in five years, threatening to gamble with our livelihood all over again.

The High-Stakes Bet: Tourism vs. Oil

Our state’s economy is not hypothetical; it’s a proven powerhouse built on clean sand and clear water. In 2024, North Carolina welcomed over 40 million visitors who poured a record-breaking $36.7 billion into our economy. According to Visit NC, a stunning 90% of coastal region overnight visitors came for leisure.

Our identity is our asset: towns like Kure Beach thrive because of our clear coastline and the East Coast’s oldest fishing pier — not the promise of an oil rig. Our economy is built on soft sand. It’s our livelihood. Why would we risk a proven, multi-billion-dollar industry for the volatile, dirty promise of oil?

The danger of offshore drilling is not an abstract fear—it’s a guaranteed threat to our future. To argue that a disaster like the 2010 Deepwater Horizon explosion could not happen here is to ignore reality: the U.S. saw nearly 6,000 spills between 2010-2020. Our waters are ruled by powerful, north-flowing Gulf Stream and lie directly in the path of severe hurricanes and tropical storms. A spill would not be contained; it would rapidly devastate beaches, estuaries, and wetlands along the entire North Carolina coastline.

Even without a spill, industrial infrastructure and ugly rigs drive away tourists. Studies of the Gulf Coast have shown that counties with drilling infrastructure suffer a significant reduction in tourism revenue compared to non-drilling coastal areas. The promise of oil riches is a hollow one when the immediate cost is the destruction of our established, high-value tourism market.

United Opposition

Let’s be clear: this isn’t a political debate; it’s an enduring, bipartisan call for common economic sense. Earlier this year, both North Carolina Gov. Josh Stein, a Democrat, and South Carolina Gov. Henry McMaster, a Republican, issued a joint letter opposing the expansion of offshore oil and gas leasing, proving this threat unites governors across state and party lines.

This mandate flows directly from the coast itself. Kure Beach became ground zero of the opposition movement in 2014, and we have passed two resolutions opposing offshore drilling, the most recent of which passed in June 2025. We have since been joined by a chorus of over 40 North Carolina governments, all of whom have passed similar resolutions over the years.

Crucially, the business leaders who power our coastal economy — like NC Catch, the Outer Banks Association of REALTORS, and the Carteret County Chamber of Commerce — all understand a simple truth: clean beaches are their primary asset, and drilling is the greatest threat to their bottom line.

The Path Forward: Codify Protection

The people of the North Carolina coast have bought us time. We cannot afford to be complacent. The exclusion from this proposed program is merely a pause button, not a definitive “game over” for the oil industry.

I urge every reader: Contact your federal representatives. Demand that they move beyond the Draft Proposed Program and actively work to pass the COAST Anti-Drilling Act (S.1486, H.R.2881), that permanently withdraws the Atlantic from all future offshore oil and gas leasing.

Do not let Washington, D.C., gamble away North Carolina’s future again in the next five-year cycle.

We won the battle, but the war for our beaches rages on.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues.

“They swam all the way to Ocracoke?”

I suppose I should not have been so incredulous upon learning that National Park Service employees were having to track down rogue coyotes on Ocracoke Island. During my time conducting surveys of colonial waterbirds across the North Carolina coast, the impacts of coyote predation on young chicks was impossible to not take seriously. Their presence posed a constant challenge for federal, state, and municipal authorities. It’s not only birds that are affected; coyotes, with their acute sense of smell, pose a serious threat to sea turtle nests as well.

Invasive species often pose a serious challenge for ecosystems that have not evolved alongside them, and the havoc they wreak often vastly outstrips the pace at which the environment can adapt to their presence. While we have come to think of coyotes as a part of our everyday lives here in the eastern U.S., they are actually only native to the Southwest.

As wolves were killed en masse and driven out of the eastern U.S., coyotes migrated eastward to fill in the ecological role that was left wide open. As they did so, they picked up genes from the retreating wolves along their way. Now native red wolves are restricted to the Albemarle peninsula of North Carolina, a remnant of a once-dominant population that would have kept the coyotes from ever reaching the barrier islands simply by virtue of their presence.

While red wolves and coyotes are somewhat similar in appearance, coyotes are solitary mesopredators (mid-level carnivores that are still threatened by apex predators) that are characteristically opportunistic when it comes to food sources such as sea turtle eggs. Red wolves on the other hand are cooperative pack hunters that go for much larger game than coyotes, and will drive coyotes away or attack them under normal ecological conditions.

I bring the expansion of coyotes up as one example of how North Carolina’s barrier islands have changed since the onset of European colonization in the 16th century. The changes have been numerous, catastrophic, profound, and formative all at the same time.

One of these changes are the wild horses that roam these dunes, in locations ranging from Corolla to Beaufort. I have enjoyed many meals from childhood to present dining on the Beaufort waterfront, looking across the narrow intracoastal waterway to find horses grazing on the Rachel Carson Reserve. For locals, they are a sight as ubiquitous as spotting dolphins in the waterway. Entire businesses and marketing promotions of the area have fixated on these horses as a unique part of the area’s culture and appeal.

I am presently a researcher with North Carolina State University studying the crystal skipper. The crystal skipper is a butterfly species only found on a 30-mile stretch of the North Carolina Crystal Coast from Bear Island to the Rachel Carson Reserve.

The Rachel Carson Reserve just so happens to be a location with resident horses, making it the only place where horse and skipper populations interact.

People frequently come to the Rachel Carson Reserve to hike or relax on the beach, whether they come by way of ferry or their own watercraft. As my coworkers and I work in our highlighter-yellow vests, visitors are frequently drawn to us with inquiries about where they can spot the horses. Their assumptions aren’t wrong, I have been coming here for years at this point and I can direct them where to go to have a good chance of seeing them. They are often surprised, however, to find us unenthusiastic about the horses when we are directly asked about them.

We usually address the visitors on the Rachel Carson Reserve surrounded by centipede grass, the only grass that remains after the horses have eaten their fill. Seaside little bluestem, the sole grass species the crystal skipper lays their eggs on and eats as a caterpillar, is nowhere to be found in the areas the horses frequent. It’s heart-wrenching to watch the horses stride into the one small section of the Rachel Carson Reserve that still contains a viable crystal skipper population, consuming who knows how many eggs and caterpillars as they satiate their hunger on seaside little bluestem. In a sharp contrast to the horses, the crystal skipper is not only from here, it is only found here.

Who are these horses for? For tourists?

I doubt the desire to see the horses would increase as people grow in their knowledge about the horses’ condition. When I am asked about how healthy the horses are here, I feel as though I am lying by omission if I don’t tell the truth as I see it.

For tourism boards?

North Carolina’s coast is replete with breathtaking sites and awe-inspiring nature, I doubt horses in particular are needed to promote the area.

For a rare and imperiled butterfly species found nowhere else on Earth?

Certainly not for them.

One could easily ask who the crystal skipper is for, to which I would reply that it is for the very island ecosystems that created it in the first place, whose selective pressures picked the genes that gave rise to its very body plan. Secondarily, the crystal skipper is for the people who live and visit here who are able to appreciate its beauty and intrinsic link to the land.

For all the problems I have highlighted here, I do believe that there is a solution to this problem that addresses the concerns of all involved. To anchor this solution in how I began the article, I once again want to return to the subject of Ocracoke.

Horses remain on the island but have been corralled into a pony pen, easily accessible to anybody visiting the island. These horses are given a proper diet, bereft of the hardy and sandy grasses that stitch the island together against the advances of the wind and waves. This keeps the island’s ecology and structure intact, enables visitors and residents alike to see this part of Ocracoke’s history, and keeps the horses protected from careless visitors.

It would be impertinent and wrong of me to dismiss the cultural and tourist value that the horses provide simply because I am approaching the topic as a conservationist. That said, if you are able to get a close look, the horses’ taught skin stretched over their hips and ribs represents a sharp contrast to the horses that folks are generally used to seeing.

If folks are going to come to see the Crystal Coast, I want them to see the best of the Crystal Coast, where we steward our ecological resources well and care for the animals in our charge.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues.

This fall has been one of the wettest in my memory — and yet, we haven’t had much significant rainfall, or a single hurricane or tropical storm make landfall. Still, the water lingers.

King tides have been washing over docks, creeping across yards, and flooding roads that once stayed dry except in the worst storms. For those of us living Down East in Carteret County, it’s a clear sign that something deeper is changing.

I’ve lived in Atlantic for six decades. I’ve never seen the roads hold water like this. The fields don’t dry out anymore. The ditches stay full — they just don’t drain.

When ditches stop working

For generations, Down East communities-built ditches moved water off the land and into nearby creeks or sounds. Those systems were based on one simple principle: gravity. Water flows downhill, and as long as the outlet of a ditch was lower than the land it drained — and the tide stayed low enough — water could flow freely.

But that balance has been shifting. The “hydrologic head,” or the difference in elevation that drives water to move from land to sea, has been shrinking as sea level rises. When the sea surface and ditch outlet are nearly the same height, there’s no longer enough downward pressure to push the water out. Even small rises in tide height or groundwater level can stop drainage altogether.

Today, many ditches are effectively at or just above mean high tide. That means during normal tides, water from the creeks seeps inland through the ditches, instead of the other way around. Even when a ditch still looks dry at low tide, the groundwater beneath it is now closer to the surface, leaving the soil perpetually saturated. Digging the ditch deeper doesn’t help — it only invites more saltwater in and raises the groundwater table even higher.

In short, the plumbing that once kept the land dry is backing up.

Ghost forests: symptom of a deeper change

Drive Down East in Carteret County, and the change is plain to see. Along North River, Core Sound, and the backroads of Cedar Island and Atlantic, stands of gray, lifeless trees rise like skeletons from the marsh — the ghost forests of a drowning coast.

Where there were once loblolly pines, red maples, and black gums, saltwater now seeps through the soil, killing the trees from the roots up. These ghost forests are not isolated patches — they are expanding corridors of dead timber that trace the slow inland march of the tides. They are, quite literally, the frontline of sea level rise.

The loss of these forests shows that this isn’t just a surface flooding problem. It’s the entire groundwater system responding to rising seas — a shift in the coastal hydrology that’s transforming once-productive working lands into wetlands and marsh.

What the future holds

If sea level continues to rise at its current pace — or faster, as most scientists expect — the next two or three decades will bring dramatic change to Down East Carteret County.

• Farming will become progressively more difficult, as fields stay too wet or too salty for crops or equipment.
• Roads will flood more often and for longer periods, isolating communities during high tides.
• Septic systems will fail, as the groundwater table rises to meet the drainfields.
• Homes and businesses built on low ground will face chronic flooding, declining property values, and higher insurance costs.

And yet, all this is happening without a single hurricane this year. The water is simply no longer leaving.

Working with water, not against it

The North Carolina Coastal Federation and many partners are working to restore natural hydrology on thousands of acres of previously ditched farmland and forestland. By filling or plugging ditches and re-establishing wetland systems, these projects allow the land to store and slowly release water — the way nature intended.

Restored wetlands act like natural sponges and filters, reducing flooding, improving water quality, and providing habitat for fish and wildlife. More importantly, they show that living with water is possible — but only if we plan for it, rather than trying to drain it away.

Facing reality

The ghost forests now lining our creeks are not just dying trees; they’re a warning. They tell us that the old ways of managing water — cutting deeper ditches, pumping harder, pushing it away — will not work in a world where the sea itself is rising.

Down East has always lived close to the water and thrived because of it. But if we want our communities to endure, we’ll need to give the land room to breathe again — to let it hold water where it must and adapt to what’s coming.

Because the water isn’t waiting.

The North Carolina Coastal Federation publishes Coastal Review.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues.

The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers is currently working on an Environmental Impact Statement (EIS) for the Port of Wilmington’s plan to deepen the Cape Fear River, with the stated goal of accommodating larger cargo ships. As a retired Corps of Engineers senior project engineer, I feel it’s crucial to raise some serious concerns about this initiative.

The North Carolina State Ports Authority has significantly overlooked other viable alternatives, besides incremental deepening, and failed to assess the extensive infrastructure damage that increased freight traffic could inflict on our roads and bridges. This is particularly evident in major new projects like the replacement of the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge and Wilmington’s Rail Realignment Project. Both are billion-dollar investments intended to accommodate the large volume of new truck and rail freight movement. One only need to look at the definition of the secondary effects as defined by the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA). These secondary effects clearly relate to the need to expand the port’s freight-handling capacity.

Deepening the river will only worsen flooding, affecting areas around the downtown Wilmington waterfront and the historically significant North Carolina Battleship site. It will also lead to a substantial loss of vital wetlands and floodplains due to increasing saltwater intrusion, a value the Ports Authority conveniently understates in its Section 203 report required under the Clean Water Act.

From 1980 to 2017, DuPont, and now Chemours, released vast quantities of hazardous PFAS compounds, polluting nearly 100 miles of the Cape Fear River, including the proposed dredging prisms defined in the port’s set of alternatives. This legacy of contamination must be a central part of the EIS evaluation, as it directly challenges the claimed benefits of the project. Additionally, the reverse osmosis water treatment plant in Brunswick County, which aims to remove PFAS from drinking water, will release highly concentrated PFAS-contaminated wastewater 3 miles upstream of the port. This will further complicate the environmental challenges posed by the proposed dredging project, as well as future dredging operations and maintenance requirements, which once again go unaddressed in the port’s Section 203 report.

Why is this a critical oversight? PFAS clings to or settles into fine sediments like silt and clay found in the soil in and around the dredge-soil prism proposed to be dredged. It’s only logical that when these contaminated sediments are dredged, a safe disposal management plan would be an essential requirement for both federal and state regulators. When PFAS is detected in the dredged sediment, our regulators need to determine whether the material is suitable for placement or disposal, especially regarding upland sites or beach renourishment projects.

The Corps’ “Beneficial Use” strategy aims to repurpose the dredged material as a resource. However, this faces significant hurdles within the scope of this proposed project, as regulators decide how to prevent PFAS from being released back into the environment. The Eagles Island disposal area, which predates NEPA and was built on a previously healthy wetland and floodplain, is not an appropriate site for disposing of contaminated dredged soil because it lacks a liner. Furthermore, researchers in North Carolina and across the globe continue to investigate the damage that PFAS is causing to aquatic ecosystems as it transfers from sediment back into the water column during dredging and placement operations.

Without the Corps thoroughly addressing PFAS contamination, there is zero chance of ensuring the health and well-being of those who rely on the river’s resources in the future. This is particularly important when considering deepening options for the beneficial uses of these contaminated sediments. PFAS contamination adds another layer of complexity that will require extensive testing and could significantly impact project costs and feasibility.

There is no question that this proposed dredging project will certainly disturb sediments, releasing PFAS and other contaminants back into the water, which poses risks to aquatic life and human health.

Key issues include the following:

• Contamination — Dedging stirs PFAS, disrupts water quality.
• Aquatic risks — PFAS can bioaccumulate in marine organisms.
• Health concerns — Contaminated fish and drinking water pose human health risks.
• Regulatory challenges — Lack of consistent state or federal guidelines will create confusion for any of the deepening alternatives proposed under the port’s Section 203 study.

To enable the federal and state governments to properly manage PFAS risks related to deepening or maintenance dredging within the navigation channel, increased testing, ongoing research, development of standards, and best management practices are essential.

PFAS contamination is impacting rivers and harbors across our country. Michigan’s Department of Environment now mandates PFAS testing for sediments in harbor dredging, which is causing project delays, such as in Grand Haven, due to unclear safety standards. The Corps warns that this could reduce dredging operations from 24 to only three to five harbors annually due to rising costs — up to 200% higher with resampling — and the lack of precise guidance.

Given these critical issues, taxpayers should be alarmed by a proposed port project that fails to account for its environmental and infrastructural costs. Suppose we don’t consider the long-term implications of the port’s proposed alterations to our river. In that case, we might find ourselves stuck with unsustainable financial and environmental costs, while the economic benefits remain questionable at best.

It is our river, yet it has been treated as a stepchild compared to other, less critical economic priorities. Standard economic models often overlook the real financial value of natural resources and ecological systems like those on the lower Cape Fear River. Since nature’s “goods and services,” such as clean air, fresh water, and fully functioning floodplains and wetlands, are often considered free, they are becoming overused and undervalued. As I’ve tried to explain here, the degradation of our environment directly affects our citizens, taxpayers, and the species that depend on healthy ecosystems.

As the Corps prepares its EIS, it is essential to find more sustainable alternatives than digging us into a deeper hole that we can’t escape.  If not for us, then how about our kids, grandchildren, and their grandchildren?

If you have an opinion or concerns about this project, please submit your comments to:

By Email: WilmingtonHarbor403@usace.army.mil, or by mail to  ATTN: Wilmington Harbor 403, 69 Darlington Ave., Wilmington, NC 28403, or by comment cards at the public meetings.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. Note: This piece was updated Nov. 3 to correct an erroneous statistic regarding Chemours’ proposed expansion.

One of the state’s most egregious corporate polluters has evaded public accountability for years. Now, the company is seeking to expand its output of toxic chemicals in eastern North Carolina. 

Since the mid 1970s the Chemours chemical manufacturing facility in Fayetteville has been spewing toxic PFAS into the air and water, contaminating the air and drinking water, food and bodies of water of a half-million people in the southeast region. The public was unaware of this until 2017, when researchers at NC State University detected high levels of the chemical GenX in the river’s drinking water. The revelation was so egregious community group Clean Cape Fear engaged the U.N. Human Rights Council to find Chemours and its parent company DuPont had committed business-related human rights abuses and called for accountability. Exposure to PFAS is known to cause certain types of cancers, immune system suppression, and developmental issues. But even after the news broke about this public health crisis in 2017, Chemours continued to produce PFAS and poisoning the Cape Fear River region. 

Beyond polluting the Cape Fear River, which supplies drinking water to more than 500,000 people downstream of Chemours’ discharge pipes, Chemours’ airborne PFAS emissions have poisoned at least 7,000 private drinking water wells across ten counties. This is not just a historical issue – it’s an ongoing crisis. Eight years after learning about GenX in North Carolina’s tap water and state regulators still do not know the full scope of groundwater contamination to the region. 

Despite this legacy of harm across southeastern North Carolina, the company has recently applied to NC DEQ (Department of Environmental Quality) for an air permit to dramatically expand its Fayetteville chemical production operations and increase its PFAS production and waste. Chemours has demonstrated a pattern of corporate misconduct, concealing information about the dangers of its water and air pollution from regulators and the public for decades. The company has violated court orders to curb PFAS pollution. And, earlier this year, the state expanded its PFAS testing zone, ordering Chemours to test for PFAS in an additional 150,000 private wells in six counties – a sign of how far these toxic chemicals have spread across the state.  

This is not a company that can be trusted to expand its operations responsibly, and it is one local example of the  PFAS pollution crisis, which is now a nationwide problem. Thoughtful and common-sense federal solutions were recently put in place, but  are now being rescinded.  

In 2024, the Biden Administration’s Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) restricted six PFAS chemicals (GenX/HFPO-DA, PFBS, PFHxS PFNA, PFOA, and PFOS), under the Safe Drinking Water Act, which the agency estimated could benefit up to 105 million people nationwide. But the Trump administration is now in the process of trying to rescind some of those restrictions that would have helped reduce PFAS pollution in public tap water. The Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC) and its partners are opposing the EPA’s proposed rollbacks and have turned to the courts for protection.  

Until federal regulators issue clear guidance and protections for PFAS, it is up to state agencies to protect our health and natural resources. In North Carolina, that means DEQ must reject Chemours’ air permit application and do its job to protect North Carolinians from being further poisoned by this company’s toxic chemical pollution.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues.

I am writing on behalf of the Town of Ocean Isle Beach regarding the September 30 article, “Sand is vanishing on east side of Ocean Isle’s $11M erosion fix.” While we appreciate Coastal Review’s coverage of coastal management issues, the article does not provide full context and leaves readers with an incomplete understanding of the facts.

The terminal groin project was subject to a lengthy, transparent public process:

• Initial scoping meeting: October 3, 2012
• Project Review Team Initial Meeting: March 5, 2013
• Draft Environmental Impact Statement: March 3, 2015
• Terminal groin public workshop (3 West Third Street): April 4, 2015
• Final Environmental Impact Statement: April 15, 2015
• CAMA Permit Issued: November 2016
• Groin Construction began: November 2021

The development known as The Point followed a separate timeline. The developer first appeared before the Planning Board in June 2015, after the above meetings had taken place. He purchased the property in September 2015. In October 2016, the Board of Commissioners issued preliminary plat approval. After a period of stalled activity, the Major CAMA Permit for The Point was issued on June 18, 2018. The developer then submitted a new sketch plan in December 2019, and final subdivision approval was granted in 2022.

Related: Sand is vanishing on east side of Ocean Isle’s $11M erosion fix

All this information was publicly available prior to development of this area. By omitting these facts, the article gives the impression that property owners were unaware of the project, when the Town followed a thorough and publicly documented process in full compliance with state and federal requirements.

Ocean Isle Beach values Coastal Review’s role in informing the public about coastal issues, and we respectfully request that future reporting includes the full timeline, so readers have a complete understanding of both the Town’s due diligence and the developers’ decision-making process.

Thank you for your attention to this matter,

Debbie S. Smith, Mayor
Town of Ocean Isle Beach

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues.

Note: National Estuaries Week is Sept. 20-27

When most people think about fighting climate change, they think about cutting tailpipe emissions, swapping coal plants for solar panels, or driving electric cars. But there’s another powerful tool right in front of us: coastal habitats like salt marshes and submerged seagrass meadows. These living ecosystems are not just fish nurseries, wildlife havens and storm buffers — they are also massive storehouses for carbon, helping slow the pace of global warming.

Nature’s Carbon Vaults

Every blade of marsh grass and every seagrass frond pulls carbon dioxide out of the air and water through photosynthesis. Some of that carbon goes back into the atmosphere when plants die and decay — but much of it gets buried in the wet, oxygen-poor soils beneath. Think of these habitats as nature’s deep freezers: once carbon is locked in the muck, it can stay there for hundreds or even thousands of years.

This storage is so effective that acre-for-acre, coastal wetland ecosystems can hold several times more carbon than forests on land. That’s why scientists call this “blue carbon.”

Beyond Storage: The New Science of Carbon Flux

For years, we assumed the carbon benefits of these habitats came mostly from how much carbon they locked underground. But new research — including work my colleagues and I have been doing — shows that the story is bigger.

Wetlands and seagrass beds aren’t closed systems. They interact constantly with surrounding waters, exchanging organic matter and nutrients in what scientists call lateral flux. In plain English: tides, currents, and groundwater move carbon in and out of these habitats.

Here’s the exciting part: the more we study this flux, the more we see that coastal habitats are exporting “good carbon”— forms that stimulate carbon storage in seawater or reduce greenhouse gases in the water column. In other words, their climate benefit isn’t just what they store in their soils, but also how they influence the chemistry of surrounding waters.

Early estimates suggest this added benefit may be as large, or even larger, than the carbon stored directly in the soil. That means we’ve been dramatically underestimating how valuable these habitats are for slowing climate change.

Research Coming to North Carolina

This fall, I’ll be bringing this research to North Carolina, where salt marshes play a defining role in both the coastal landscape and economy. With support from the North Carolina Coastal Federation, my team and I will be monitoring marshes in the state to measure their carbon values. These field studies will help determine just how much carbon is being stored and exported — and how that compares with other places along the East Coast and nationwide.

By putting real numbers on the carbon services provided by North Carolina’s salt marshes, we can give policymakers, landowners, and communities the science they need to make smart investments in protecting and restoring them.

More Than Just Carbon

Of course, carbon storage is only one of many economic and ecological gifts coastal wetlands and seagrasses provide. They buffer shorelines from storms, filter pollutants, support fisheries, and provide nurseries for countless species. Protecting and restoring them is not just smart climate policy — it’s smart coastal policy, period.

A Call to Action

We’re still learning just how much carbon benefit these habitats provide, but one thing is clear: Every acre we lose is a lost opportunity to fight climate change and protect coastal communities. Protecting and restoring degraded marshes and seagrass meadows is one of the rare win-win strategies that helps people, wildlife, and the planet’s climate at the same time.

As new science on lateral flux continues to emerge — and as fresh fieldwork in North Carolina fills in key data gaps — we’ll have an even stronger case for investing in these natural climate powerhouses. Protecting coastal habitats isn’t just about saving pretty places — it’s about giving our coastal communities and working lands a fighting chance against rising seas and extreme storms.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

Our national forests are special resources that meet the needs of many constituencies and comprise 193 million acres spread across 44 states. In 2001, the federal Roadless Rule was adopted with massive public support, and it now protects 58.5 million acres of roadless national forestland in 39 states.

Roadless areas across our national forests are very popular with hikers, fishermen, hunters, and more. They also serve as natural repositories for the unique flora and fauna that live in a region.

In the future, expanding urban areas and increased fragmentation of private lands make it likely that the largest and most extensive tracts of undeveloped land will be those in public ownership. But right now, the Roadless Rule and the resource protections it offers are in jeopardy: On Wednesday, the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) opened an official process to revoke the rule.

Here in eastern North Carolina, we are fortunate to have the Croatan National Forest in our backyard. It’s home to some of the few larger tracts of longleaf pine savanna left in North Carolina.

This ecosystem was once one of the most extensive in North America, covering more than 90 million acres. Today less than 6% of this ecosystem is left, up from 3.6% just two decades ago. It’s home to a diverse collection of fish, amphibians — including the gopher frog, Lithobates capito, which is ranked “Near Threatened” by the International Union for Conservation of Nature and is considered endangered, threatened, or of special concern in every state within its range — reptiles, mammals, and birds, such as the federally threatened red-cockaded woodpecker (a longleaf pine savanna obligate).

The Croatan National Forest also contains and protects rare populations of at least 16 species of carnivorous plants including the Venus flytrap, pitcher plant, and sundews, as well as the federally endangered rough-leaved loosestrife (Lysimachia asperulaefolia). This vital habitat is under increasing pressure from development. The Croatan contains four Designated Wilderness Areas – Catfish Lake South, Pocosin, Pond Pine, and Sheep Ridge – totaling over 31,000 acres. 

Additionally, there are thousands of acres of other “inventoried roadless areas” (IRA) contiguous to the Wilderness areas where road construction is regulated by the Roadless Rule.

The rescission of the Roadless Rule would remove inventoried roadless areas from special scrutiny and would open these areas to construction of roads to facilitate logging and other industrial activities. Ostensibly, the reason given for this regulatory change is to better manage the roadless areas for fire control, but in reality increases in road construction lead to more fires, according to the Wilderness Society. Roadbuilding in the inventoried roadless areas leads to habitat destruction itself and the activities roadbuilding allows, such as increased logging or other extractive industrial activities, diminish the value of these areas, as well as the value of nearby wilderness areas.

In addition to protecting habitat and acting as a biological reservoir, our National Forests protect water quality of our aquifers and streams. The West Carteret Water Corp. draws its water directly from wells in the Croatan National Forest. Also on the Crystal Coast, the Croatan National Forest drains into Bogue Sound, the White Oak River, and the Neuse River. Increased roadbuilding and industrial access both create runoff and increased pollution to these protected headwaters. This in turn will negatively impact the local commercial and recreational harvest of shellfish and finfish, which the local tourist economy depends on.

Now that the USDA has opened a public comment period on its plan to revoke the Roadless Rule, it is important for all of us to speak out for these areas. Public outcry stopped the proposed sell-off of public lands this past summer as part of the budget bill. Our voices are powerful, and we can use them again to protect these jewels of our National Forest System.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Coastal Review will not publish Monday in observance of Labor Day.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

From the inlets of Texas to the marsh creeks of North Carolina, the Southern flounder has been a coastal mainstay — a master of camouflage, a favorite of anglers, and a staple in commercial docks. But the fishery is in trouble, and the root cause is proving more stubborn than nets and lines: the water where these fish grow up is getting too warm for their biology to function as it should.

The Biology Behind the Problem

Southern flounder have a quirk that makes them unusually sensitive to climate change: their sex is not fixed at birth. Instead, juvenile flounder spend their first few months in shallow estuarine nursery creeks, and the water temperature during that period determines whether they develop as male or female.

In a balanced system, roughly half would be female — the egg-layers that drive reproduction. But warmer nursery waters skew this ratio heavily toward males. The difference isn’t subtle:

• North Carolina surveys (2014–2017) found that in cooler northern nurseries like the Pamlico River, about 60–67% of juveniles were male.
• In warmer southern creeks, like those in the New River, male proportions reached 81–94%, leaving only a sliver of females in the mix.

Lab experiments confirm the link: water temperatures of 80 °F or higher during early growth push most juveniles to become male, regardless of their genetic sex.

The implications are stark: fewer females, fewer eggs, fewer young fish entering the population. Without enough females, the stock’s recovery potential collapses.

Another aspect of Southern flounder biology that many fishermen don’t know is that females reach much larger adult sizes than males. The vast majority (80-90%) of males stop growing before reaching the minimum harvestable size (currently 15 inches in NC waters). That means that nearly all of the harvest (both recreational and commercial) targets females.

Fishing Pressure vs. Warming Water

Historical overfishing has contributed to the Southern flounder decline. The adult fish migrate offshore in the fall to spawn, making them easy targets as they leave the estuaries. In North Carolina, harvests were high for decades until a 2019 assessment confirmed the stock was overfished with overfishing occurring.

Since then, NC managers have imposed some of the strictest rules in state history, and throughout the species range — including a 72% cut in removals and, in 2024, the complete closure of the recreational season. These cuts have reduced fishing mortality, but the size of the population remains far below levels needed for a sustainable fishery.

What’s vexing managers is that even with drastically reduced catch, the warming-driven skewed sex ratios limit reproductive capacity and the total number of females available to harvest. In other words, fishing limits can protect adult females, but if the nurseries keep producing mostly males, there will never be enough females to rebuild the stock.

Habitat and Other Stressors

Habitat degradation — from shoreline hardening, dredging, and water pollution — has also reduced the quality of juvenile flounder habitat. Loss of vegetated marsh edges and shallow feeding flats means fewer places for young flounder to shelter and feed. But while habitat restoration can help in specific locations, it cannot offset the coastwide effects of rising water temperatures.

Not Just a North Carolina Story

From Texas to the Carolinas, Southern flounder numbers have declined in a synchronized pattern. That’s telling: historical fishing pressure as well as harvest rules vary widely, but the declines align closely with regional warming trends, pointing to climate as a coastwide driver.

Texas has invested heavily in hatchery enhancement, producing and releasing over 378,000 juvenile flounder so far, with plans to scale up. South Carolina began stocking trials in 2021. Past experiences with other coastal fisheries indicate that supplementing wild populations with hatchery fish may not solve the problem. So far, North Carolina has opted not to use hatcheries as part of Southern flounder management, focusing instead on catch reductions to rebuild the stock.

Hatcheries may provide some help in the short term, especially during years of poor natural reproduction, but they cannot solve the fundamental temperature problem that exists in wild nurseries.

The Overlooked Winter Challenge

Southern flounder spawn offshore in winter. Climate data show that ocean waters      throughout the species range are warmer now than in past decades. Key reproductive events      — egg fertilization, embryo development, and early larval growth — may be more sensitive to even modest winter warming than previously thought.

The poor recruitment in Southern flounder mirrors declining patterns observed. In other winter-spawning species, including members of the snapper-grouper complex, leading scientists to question whether we are witnessing a broader ecological regime shift toward lower productivity.

If Warming Continues

If summer and early fall estuarine temperatures keep rising:

• Sex ratios will remain heavily skewed toward males in many North Carolina nurseries.
• Even with strict fishing limits, the spawning stock will rebuild only slowly — or not at all.
• Commercial and recreational opportunities could remain severely restricted for several years.
• The fishery’s cultural and economic role in coastal NC could shrink dramatically.

Local habitat strategies — like protecting shaded, groundwater-fed creeks that stay cooler — could help maintain “female refuges” in certain areas. But these are stopgaps. Without broader climate action, the male-heavy trend will persist, limiting egg production and, ultimately, the number of flounder available to catch.

The Road Ahead

North Carolina’s current management plan aims to rebuild the stock to sustainable levels by 2028, but that target assumes average environmental conditions. If water temperatures continue to trend upward, managers may need to combine stricter harvest controls, targeted hatchery releases, and climate-resilient habitat protection just to stabilize the fishery.

For now, the Southern flounder is sending a clear signal: it’s not just about how many fish we take — it’s also about what’s happening in the water itself.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

Toxic exposure is a common occurrence in the military, affecting thousands of veterans, many years after service. Thus, providing compensation and free healthcare is a federal obligation to those who have served their country. Nevertheless, up to 2022, only a few diseases were presumed to be connected with military operations.

For most veterans, receiving compensation meant undergoing an extensive bureaucratic process to demonstrate exposure and prove causality in the development of their condition. With the implementation of the PACT Act, the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) recognized more than 20 diseases as presumably caused by toxic exposure during service. However, while this list is constantly expanding, the list of toxic agents for which a presumption of causality exists under the PACT Act remained the same. This leads to paradoxical situations, where some veterans receive compensation while others still need to prove causality, albeit these people suffer from the same conditions.

VOCs’ toxicity and military exposure

Volatile Organic Compounds, or VOCs, are among the toxic agents that are only partially recognized by the PACT Act. These chemicals are common in industrial solvents, degreasers, and cleaners, as well as jet fuel, adhesives, and certain paints and coatings. Given their properties, VOCs such as trichloroethylene (TCE) and perchloroethylene (PCE) were extensively used by the U.S. military for decades in equipment maintenance, aircraft cleaning, and parts degreasing.

Although very efficient in these operations, VOCs quickly turn from liquids or solids into vapor, leading to a high probability of being inhaled by personnel operating with these substances. TCE and PCE are classified as chlorinated solvents, widely used in degreasing and cleaning metal parts. These substances present significant risks not only for military staff using them, but also for their families and local communities due to improper storage and leakage in and around military sites.

There is a strong body of literature built from epidemiological studies and research on human and animal models demonstrating that TCE has carcinogenic effects in various tissues, including kidneys, lungs, liver, testicles, and stomach. These effects are observed either as a result of ingestion or inhalation. Noncarcinogenic effects have also been reported for TCE, with serious effects in neural and cardiac tissue. Similar effects are observed in PCE exposure, indicating a strong potential for carcinogenic effects. Notably, PCE’s impact on neural tissue demonstrates stronger neurotoxicity, especially in children, where exposure is associated with reduced cognitive capacity.

To date, the Department of Defense (DoD) recognizes contamination with VOCs, for which compensation is provided, only in relation to contamination from Agent Orange, a pesticide used in Vietnam, burn pits, and Camp Lejeune. Although various other military bases are recognized to have VOCs pollution, affecting both veterans and their families, these areas are not considered part of presumptive toxic contact. Pressure from the public and extensive investigations carried out by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) forced the DoD to recognize Camp Lejeune as a site of exposure to dangerous VOCs, including TCE and PCE. Similar pressure may thus be necessary to have all sites recognized by expanding the PACT Act list of toxic agents impacting veterans for years on end.

Exposure in North Carolina veterans

More than 620.000 veterans live in North Carolina and many of them have been directly impacted by VOCs exposure while working for the military. Camp Lejeune is now a well-known documented site where veterans and their families suffered long-term health effects due to prolonged exposure to toxic chemicals in the water supply. At the time when contamination was documented here, increased media attention and pressure from the civic society led to the creation of a compensation fund for those affected. Today, exposure at Camp Lejeune is valid for automatic compensation under the PACT Act.

While support is offered for those affected at this site, many other locations in North Carolina are known to be contaminated. For example, the Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point is currently under monitoring by the EPA, while PFAS levels here measured in 2024 exceed EPA’s new recommended limits of 4 parts per trillion in drinking water more than three times. Despite clear evidence of environmental risk, sites such as these remain excluded from presumptive coverage and lack VOCs monitoring and impact assessments. 

VA pressures, funding, procedural inconsistencies

Since 2022, the VA has processed over 1.7 million claims and granted more than 6.8 billion in compensation to veterans and their families. The costs of this program are therefore substantial. Any new agent introduced on the toxic list will likely increase these costs. Yet for any agent dismissed, thousands of veterans’ claims are denied, even following long battles to demonstrate causality. This is far from a just representation of how the VA’s mission aligns with supporting and protecting former military personnel.

Recognizing the full scope of toxic exposures, including compounds such as TCE and PCE, is essential to ensuring equitable access to benefits for all veterans and removing inconsistencies from this system. With the EPA’s recent ban on TCE and PCE, the continued lack of recognition by the DoD may become increasingly difficult to justify. As scientific evidence continues to demonstrate the health risks associated with VOCs, expanding the list of recognized agents would represent a necessary and evidence-based step toward improving the integrity and fairness of the veterans’ compensation system.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

It’s a story Carolinians already know: The Trump administration is once again pushing to expand offshore drilling along America’s coasts. It claims to have a mandate, insisting that “America spoke” in last November’s election and that those results endorse the administration’s energy agenda and “national energy emergency” claims.

When America last had a real chance to weigh in on offshore drilling during the first Trump term, it spoke loudly and clearly in opposition. Nowhere was this more evident than in the Carolinas, where communities, local leaders and even Republican lawmakers stood up and firmly said, “No.”

In 2018, the first Trump administration proposed opening up vast stretches of the Atlantic Coast to offshore drilling, including waters off North and South Carolina. That plan ran headfirst into a wall of resistance built by residents from coastal towns and inland cities who came together to protect their way of life. Environmental groups, fishermen, small business owners and tourism industry leaders formed unlikely alliances to stop the drilling. More than a hundred coastal communities passed formal resolutions against Atlantic oil drilling. Those unlikely alliances bloomed into rallies, marches and protests for months on end. Their message was simple: Environmentally and economically, the risks were too high.

That opposition was echoed by elected officials, regardless of their side of the aisle. Republican governors and lawmakers broke ranks with the administration to defend their states’ coastlines. Former North Carolina Governor Roy Cooper and South Carolina’s Henry McMaster both called for their states to be excluded from the drilling plan. Coastal communities passed resolutions opposing drilling off their shores. It was a rare display of bipartisan unity, driven by the urgent need to protect local economies, natural heritage and public safety.

The high stakes haven’t changed. The Atlantic Ocean is home to fragile marine ecosystems including species like endangered North Atlantic right whales, sea turtles and countless fish species. Those species and ecosystems are under constant pressure from overfishing, climate change, as well as plastic, chemical and noise pollution. Habitat destruction from coastal development, bottom trawling and dredging further disrupts vital ecosystems. The oil industry could very well be the tipping point for our Atlantic species.

The damage doesn’t stop at the drill site. Seismic testing — the method used to locate oil beneath the ocean floor — blasts powerful sound waves through the water, disorienting and sometimes killing marine animals. Infrastructure to support offshore drilling brings onshore pollution, industrialization of coastal areas, and heightened risk of oil spills. And the closer the drilling moves to shore, the greater the danger to beaches, estuaries, as well as the tourism and fishing industries that rely on clean water and healthy ecosystems. Additionally, due to the proximity of the Gulf Stream in the Atlantic, spilled oil could rapidly travel thousands of miles, creating widespread ecological damage that would be incredibly difficult to mitigate. That’s thousands of miles of chances for oil to get on and inside the bodies of wildlife, leading to everything from hypothermia to ulcers and a gruesome death.

Now, the first public comment period is open in the 11^th National Outer Continental Shelf Oil and Gas Leasing Program, which the Department of the Interior will use to create a process for selling leases for drilling off our coasts.

The people of North and South Carolina stood up to offshore drilling once before, and we must do it again: Submit comments to the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management and demand that our coast be kept free from new drilling. Offshore drilling has had no place on the Atlantic Coast before, and it has no place here now. America didn’t ask for oil rigs off its beaches — and the Carolinas are once again ready to lead the fight to keep them out.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

It was a losing battle from the start, watching the inevitable rising and receding of the waves simultaneously fill up the hole I had been digging, and swiftly erode the accompanying pile of sand I had dug.

Perhaps it is an intrinsic childhood need to move sand from one location to another. As Sisyphean as the task may seem to an adult, sand is an all-encompassing playground; a place to dig in, sink into, and even to create your own tide pool/hot tub as the waves accentuate your enjoyment.

My first exposure to the sand with every beach trip was the arduous trek (for a young child) up the stairs of the public beach access point down Heverly Drive in Emerald Isle.

I would pause in equal measure to catch my breath and take in just how cool it was to be atop the dunes, peering down on the crashing Atlantic Ocean below. But my expeditions into the dunes as a child were limited to exactly this: brief crossings on established wooden traverses. The landscape of the dunes was dotted with sign after sign stating, in no ambiguous terms, to keep off of their sea oat-covered crests. 

Folks from all over North Carolina and beyond flock to the Crystal Coast to experience the sensation of warm sand on their toes, the waves crashing on top of them, and perhaps a shrimp burger (or 10). Whether or not they realize it, visitors and residents pass through several distinct ecosystems as they stroll toward the beckoning ocean. The first ecosystem is the maritime forest, where hardy Live oaks and Wax myrtles make their living despite the sandy soil.

Then you reach the dunes, where crystal skippers eke out a living amongst the stalwart grasses that stitch the Bogue Banks in place against the ravages of the wind and waves. Afterwards comes the open beach, which might seem like a domain reserved exclusively for beachgoers but is also one that provides critical habitat for nesting least terns and loggerhead sea turtles.

Lastly before the ocean, the area where the waves first crash on the beach is known as the swash zone, where sanderlings, a small wading bird, can be frequently observed searching for bivalves. All of these ecosystems are within sight of each other, and yet their differences can be felt the moment one no longer has a delicious sea breeze standing behind the dunes. 

Flash forward to the present day, and I am a member of a team of scientists tasked with flaunting each and every one of these signs, looking straight at passersby as we rock our highlighter yellow vests and our sweat and sunscreen-streaked faces. We catch our breath and explain to these folks the nature of what we are doing.

“We are researchers with NC State and the North Carolina Aquarium, studying a butterfly endemic to this area called the crystal skipper,” we repeat to various folks taking an interest in our work.

One of the most underappreciated skills required of us is the ability to clarify what terms like “endemic” mean or to satiate people’s curiosity about the subject while being fully conscious of just how bad we smell after a day of traversing the hot and humid dunes.

What is it like to walk through the dunes? In a word, or several, hot, breezeless, and saturated with ankle-seizing smilax. One step takes the energy of three normal steps as the sand inevitably gives way on your ascent. The dunes blocking the sea breeze is likely important ecologically for our skippers, but that perspective is hard to maintain as the stifling air quickly dishevels and frustrates us. For nature nerds like myself, the presence of snakes and wheel bugs as well as the opportunity to study a rare species are well worth the effort. 

To answer that aforementioned question about what “endemic” means, it’s a term used in biology to refer to an organism whose range is restricted to a very specific place. Marine iguanas are endemic to the Galapagos Archipelago, lemurs are endemic to Madagascar, and the crystal skipper is endemic to our own coastal North Carolina.

North Carolina’s barrier islands are famous for how thin they are, and the crystal skipper’s range spans a mere 30 miles of said barrier islands. We as researchers are fairly fortunate in that this range encompasses not one, but two state parks: Hammocks Beach and Fort Macon. This means that we have a considerable amount of public land to study this species on.

True to the moniker of the Bogue Banks, the species can be identified by the distinctive white “crystals” speckling its brown wings. If you are fortunate enough to see a skipper, however, in some cases you might see black markings on their wings. Those are the codes that we have written onto their wings as a part of our mark-recapture study, where we endeavor to estimate the population of skippers in a given area based on the percentage, we are able to recapture.

But our research isn’t limited only to the adults, we spend substantial time looking through the seaside little bluestem, which is the grass the skippers are dependent on, to find and track the development of eggs and caterpillars as they stitch the grass around them into tents that would make the Spanish architect Gaudí proud.

This is all in addition to studying the habitat itself, which encapsulates everything from collecting nectar samples to taking seaside little bluestem samples back to the lab to assess desiccation. 

One of my favorite things about our work is that we find ourselves with equal frequency in the backcountry of the Crystal Coast in remote areas such as Bear Island, part of Hammocks Beach, as often as we find ourselves in the backyards of, at times, residents and unsuspecting tourists. This seems to encapsulate the essence of both conservation and preservation in our project.

One of the most fortuitous happenstances in the preservation of the crystal skipper is that roughly half of its range is already protected within Hammocks Beach State Park in the Swansboro area, which encompasses some of the undeveloped dune habitat in the state outside of its two national seashores. This land offers researchers a chance to observe the crystal skipper in an area of land that is wild and remote.

While we hope that our work will help ensure the population remains robust, the lives of individual adult crystal skippers are not very long. All skippers emerge during two time periods: April through early May and July through mid-August. Insects as a rule are very short-lived, and the crystal skipper is no exception with a lifespan of only one to two weeks.

The nature of our line of work means that multiple cycles of technicians such as myself will study the crystal skipper over summers as ephemeral as the butterfly itself. And while the crystal skipper is immortalized through passing on its genes, we hope that our legacy in the dunes is immortalized in others taking up this work after we have gone. And yet, at the same time, the crystal skipper is always here in the dunes with us, even when passers-by cannot see it.

The caterpillars are going about their business eating, making tents, and growing as they wage an often-unseen struggle for survival against the ravages of hurricanes and the myriad predators of the insect world. This is a struggle unseen by most passers-by in the dunes, and yet forms of the crystal skipper are always present in and around these select islands. It was here before our study of it began, and hopefully it will be here long after, both ever-present and ever-ephemeral. 

The Crystal Coast is many things. From the least terns laying their eggs on the beach to the deft slithering of eastern glass lizards to the skips and flutters of our beloved crystal skippers, nature permeates the man-made structures of the Crystal Coast. It’s an area where the natural world and the human history of the islands are both preserved and lived-in.

The islands of the Bogue Banks are narrow and yet flanking both sides of the narrow dividing roads are natural wonders and all the facets of human life. We, the human race, are locked in an existential struggle trying to figure out how to balance our own needs with those of the natural world.

Existential crises are often easier to face when we can break them into bite-sized pieces, and I believe that by learning to harmonize human life with the natural world here in the living laboratory of the Bogue Banks, we can help create a template for how to do so in the world at large. All of that is reflected in the rare and humble crystal skipper, a butterfly that is uniquely our own.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

Life along the North Carolina coast is steeped in saltwater – but the future seems to be drowning in it. With 1 meter of sea level rise expected by 2100, rising waters are already encroaching on low-lying coastal communities. Chronic flooding and intense storm damage have become the new normal. Stands of ghost forests, stressed to death by saltwater in the soil, announce a clear message: Move, adapt, or drown.

Folks who live here are figuring out how to trade resistance for resilience. Coexistence with the sea could become a bridge to the future. Bulkheads attempt to enforce a static line on a dynamic shore. The ocean continues to defy this hard boundary. The soft boundary of a living shoreline ensures connection doesn’t transform into fear, cooperation doesn’t sink into combativeness. Where do we start to build a future that works with the shorelines of North Carolina?

A rising crisis 

The issue of sea level rise is urgent and unavoidable on NC coasts. Where roads keep flooding from higher tides and ditches don’t drain anymore, “you’re seeing it. This is sea level rise,” says Christine Voss, retired research associate at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill’s Institute of Marine Sciences based in Morehead City. Even if they don’t use the phrase “sea level rise,” she says “people are noticing changes.”

Voss likens the situation to the health of a patient: “Sea level rise, that might be like your allergies… and then comes a hurricane. And because you may have been worn down by your allergies, when the cold or the pneumonia or the flu comes by, you’re actually more susceptible.”

She says that it’s easier for us to notice the big events like hurricanes, but really what we’re seeing with sea level rise is a cumulative effect of both hurricanes and a higher water table. Higher groundwater levels decrease soil’s ability to absorb floodwaters. The constant stress of waterlogged existence makes the coastal ecosystem immunocompromised. 

For properties that border the ocean, a range of options exist to “hold the line.” Traditional gray infrastructure manages the coastline with solely hard materials. This includes concrete seawalls and fiberglass bulkheads that act as armor against constant wave action. Fully natural, or green shorelines, include sandy beaches and salt marshes that fluctuate with the tides. There are also shoreline management strategies that combine gray and green elements, such as sills with planted vegetation or oyster reef breakwaters. 

Walling ourselves off

When threats loom, we resort to division, installing walls to armor ourselves against a fight with the waves. “We’re still pretending like we can hold it all in place for forever, everywhere…from Maine all the way around to Padre Island, Texas,” says Rob Young, geologist and director of the Program for the Study of Developed Shorelines at Western Carolina University. Fighting the ocean is a losing battle.

“Seawalls don’t stop the shoreline from moving,” he says. “It just sort of draws a line in the sand. Eventually the beach disappears in front of the seawall, because the seawall isn’t halting erosion.” 

This combative approach against the sea is destructive to the very ecosystems that would protect us. The erosion of beaches amplified by seawalls is paralleled by the undoing of marsh by estuarine bulkheads. North Carolina has restricted the building of new seawalls since 2003 to protect beaches, but bulkheads against estuarine waters are ubiquitous, and the salt marshes they neighbor are in danger. 

When a bulkhead is built, “the marsh is going to drown in front of it over time,” says Young. The waves bounce off the bulkhead and “tear up that marsh.” The impulse to protect our properties threatens the protection of our collective future.

Waves deflected by a bulkhead eat away at the land beside it, prompting another bulkhead to be constructed. Alyson Flynn, environmental economist at the North Carolina Coastal Federation, describes this hardening cascade: “it got to the point where people had no choice, because their neighbors’ property was causing their property to erode so much faster, because they had a seawall up, that they felt like the only way to protect their property was to also put up a seawall. And so then it had this barricading effect across the whole shoreline.” 

A wall necessitates more walls until we’ve replaced the breathing border of marsh. Eight percent of NC’s coastline is hardened through bulkheads, groins, and jetties. A survey in North Carolina found that waterfront homeowners perceived bulkheads as the most effective shoreline protection, even though properties with bulkheads reported twice the cost of repairing hurricane damage as properties with natural shorelines. Yet permitting processes and homeowners still favor hardened infrastructure in pursuit of shoreline preservation.

“There’s this tendency to think that a seawall is easier and less expensive, and that’s not the case,” says Flynn. “Especially when it comes to some of the maintenance costs with living shorelines, it can actually be quite a bit cheaper, especially after storm events.” 

Adding life to the line

Living shorelines, which replace the hard line of a bulkhead with opportunities for vegetation and wave attenuation, are a step in the right direction.

When Havelock homeowner Vernon Kelly looked out at the bulkhead on his property, worn down by years of storms, he had a decision to make: “Do I just replace it back with another and better bulkhead, or do I really look at creating another alternative?” 

Kelly recognizes the value of nature that he witnessed as a state land surveyor. “I was out in the coasts, in the swamp…everywhere from Jacksonville to Down East,” he says.

He has seen his North Carolina change, witnessed the bulkheads of his neighbors fail to block the oncoming ocean. With assistance from the Coastal Federation, he installed a living shoreline and has since seen “a world of a difference.” 

The nature Kelly treasures has become part of his backyard, complete with new saltwater neighbors. “Minnows seem to have figured out, ‘Hey, we’ve got a sort of a haven here.’ I’ve seen an increase of blue crabs in that sill area. And I actually had one oyster starting to grow,” he says.

The living shoreline didn’t just protect as a bulkhead would, it created space for life on that section of shore.

“What we’ve done, it’ll save it for my lifetime, maybe my kids,” says Kelly. “But if Mother Nature really decides she wants to do something, we can’t stop her.” 

Not a solution, but a start

Living shorelines can’t stop the ocean from rising, can’t stop seawater from creeping inwards from the shore and raising the water table from below. Development on the precarious line between land and sea is built on the assumption that the line can be held with stronger armor. The coastline is not a property line to be guarded but a continually negotiated convergence of ocean and land. 

The sea has sustained community here since the Coree fished the Core Banks and the Neusiok harvested along the Neuse River. Yet these life-giving waters are now described using language of wars and monsters. Framing storms and floods as opponents sinks us deeper into a combative mindset. We can’t hold the battleline if the ground itself is transforming beneath our feet. The coasts as we know them will not be the coasts of our future. 

Embracing change might be the only way to navigate the changes we fear. “People are adaptable,” says Voss. “Enough people have to decide that things have to change.”

The salt marsh has a lesson to teach about handling change. Many shoots rooted in the soil, united in density and scope, can diffuse the force of oncoming waves. As the saltwater rises, the marsh travels. 

Marshes migrate landwards, racing against sea level rise toward safety. Responding to change allows for a chance of survival. Marshes might not keep up with dire projections of sea level rise, but hardened shores don’t even give them a chance in the race.

When a migrating marsh hits a bulkhead, a line that refuses to budge until a storm forces collapse, the marsh is made static. Trapped between wall and rising water, the marsh suffers from “coastal squeeze” until it drowns. Confronting an inundated future, those on the coasts can choose to heed the lesson of the moving marsh or drown with the walls.

Living shorelines are not the answer to save the coasts but they are a potential action toward reimagining future coastal resilience. Relinquishing the ideal of a manicured waterfront is the start of embracing an alliance with the ecosystems we inhabit. Starting in backyards like Kelly’s, there is an opportunity to recognize the value of wetlands and begin to dissolve the walls, physical and philosophical, built between humans and the sea. 

Note from Kocher: This article was reported, photographed, and written in partnership with the Pulitzer Center and the science journalism course at the Duke University Marine Lab in Beaufort.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

The Outer Banks is known for its beautiful coastline and rich ecosystems, drawing millions of visitors each year. Millions of dollars in tax and business revenue are collected as a result. Unfortunately, beach erosion poses a significant challenge to homeowners, business owners and vacationers along the barrier islands, particularly those in Rodanthe. Last year, the community lost seven oceanfront homes, a record high and an indicator of a worsening problem.

Beach erosion, which has occurred for millions of years, is the defined result of changing sea levels, currents, wind patterns, and severe weather events. In fact, the Outer Banks would not exist if not for this natural process. However, erosion is consuming as much as 15 feet of shoreline each year along the Cape Hatteras National Seashore.

To preserve structures in place, federal, state, and local governments have launched coordinated responses, investing heavily in beach nourishment, inlet relocation, and terminal groin projects in a race against the sea. To put the severity of this issue into perspective, a 2020 review by the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality’s (NC DEQ) Division of Coastal Management found that nearly 9,000 oceanfront structures are at risk.

Despite the growing problem, many property owners are forced to wait until their home collapses before they can file a claim through the National Flood Insurance Program (NFIP). Shoreline erosion damages are excluded from standard homeowners’ insurance, and the NFIP only covers flood-related damages, creating confusion and prohibiting proactive planning.

That is why I introduced the Preventing Environmental Hazards Act, a commonsense bill to address the unfortunate reality of beach erosion coastal homeowners face. The bipartisan legislation would authorize NFIP compensation for structures condemned due to chronic erosion or unusual flooding and allow advance payouts for demolition or relocation of up to 40% of the home’s value, capped at $250,000 – the same terms as current NFIP policy. The purpose here is to use the money to remove the structure before it collapses, rather than wait until it creates an environmental disaster.

As erosion continues to accelerate, thousands of homes across the Outer Banks are at severe risk of being swept away by the sea. Additionally, when a home collapses, debris can spread up to fifteen miles along the coast, contaminating groundwater through failing septic systems, harming aquatic species, shorebirds, and their habitats, posing safety risks to beach visitors, and creating other serious environmental hazards. Our coastal communities cannot afford a delay any longer for proactive solutions to address these challenges.

Since coming to Congress, I have worked tirelessly to address the challenges created by our shifting shoreline, meeting regularly with local officials, representatives from NC DEQ, and the National Park Service. It is a privilege and a top priority of mine to secure federal funding to help cover the cost of projects to protect our beach communities. However, mitigation programs intended to protect threatened homes are often slow, suboptimal, and difficult to access. Advance NFIP payouts will empower homeowners by providing flexibility to prepare for or recover from natural disasters while at the same time mitigating risks to beachgoers and mariners.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest Commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. Morty Gaskill is a member of the North Carolina Coastal Federation Board of Directors. The nonprofit advocacy organization publishes Coastal Review, which remains editorially independent.

In 1976, a North Carolina Sea Grant newsletter sounded the alarm: large-scale land drainage was wiping out wetlands that protect our coastal fisheries. Fishermen saw their livelihoods at risk and 3,000 of them pleaded for action.

“We, the undersigned, being commercial and sport fishermen who use the creeks, rivers, and bays adjacent to Pamlico Sound and the waters of Pamlico Sound, petition the Marine Fisheries Commission and state officials as follows: … to investigate the effect of changing salinity in said waters upon the economy of Pamlico Drainage areas and to initiate proper controls to insure the continued health of commercial and sport fishing in this area.”

They saw it coming. But there was hope — state and federal leaders acted. For decades, farming, forestry, development, and fisheries co-existed under federal and state wetland safeguards — rules that carefully balanced economic growth and environmental protection. These safeguards didn’t create unbearable hardships; they provided stability for all.

Yet here we are again, nearly 50 years later, facing the same crisis — not just for our fisheries, but for our homes, businesses, and communities. Given the changing economic and environmental conditions of many coastal communities across North Carolina, it could not come at a worse time.

This time, the rollback of wetland protections isn’t coming from local drainage operations. It’s happening due to recent federal and state government actions. The Supreme Court’s Sackett v. EPA decision has dramatically narrowed the definition of federally protected wetlands. The North Carolina General Assembly followed suit, choosing to adopt the weaker federal standard instead of maintaining the stronger state level protections that had been in place for years. And now, under new leadership, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) is further diluting the Waters of the United States (WOTUS) rule, stripping even more protections from wetlands and streams that feed our coastal estuaries.

The consequences? More wetlands drained. More freshwater rushing unchecked into saltwater nurseries. More flooding. More property damage.

Costly gamble

History has already shown us what happens when we fail to protect our wetlands. In 1976, Rose Bay fisherman Troy W. Mayo spoke out as catches dwindled.

“Twenty-five years ago, I owned a 26-foot shad boat. We used to go out in Rose Bay, two people, for five or six hours and we’d catch 35 to 40 tubs of oysters—that was two men pulling by hand,” said Mayo. “Today you go out in this same area with a power winder and all modern equipment, and I’d be surprised if you catch 10 tubs of oysters.”

Scientists confirmed what fishermen already knew. “Salinity is a major ingredient for survival in the estuaries”; reported the North Carolina Division of Marine Fisheries. Preston Pate, who studied juvenile shrimp in Rose Bay, found that freshwater intrusion “definitely disrupted the salinity of small creeks in the area. The result was a smaller shrimp harvest by fishermen.”

But wetland loss isn’t just bad for fisheries. Wetlands absorb floodwaters, buffer storm surges, and keep pollution out of our waterways. Every acre lost means more homes and businesses at risk.

In North Carolina, our coastal communities have already been battered by hurricanes, rising insurance costs, rising property taxes, lack of affordable housing, and an aging drainage infrastructure that can’t keep up with heavier rains. Weakening wetland protections only adds fuel to the fire. It shifts costs onto property owners, local governments, and taxpayers — many of whom will be left paying for flood damage that could have been prevented.

Commonsense approach to conservation

Those lessons from the 1970s helped shape policies that kept North Carolina’s wetlands intact for decades. But now, history is repeating itself. The rollback of WOTUS protections and the state’s decision to weaken its own rules mean more wetlands will be drained, increasing flooding, pollution, and economic losses.

This shouldn’t be a divisive political issue. Wetland protections aren’t just about environmental policy — they’re about practical economics, public safety, and community well-being. They help prevent costly flood damage, safeguard private property, and support the resilience of coastal economies that depend on fisheries, tourism, and clean water.

Jim Brown of the Division of Marine Fisheries put it best nearly 50 years ago:

“We love beans and beef, and we have a serious need to extend agricultural operations. At the same time, we dearly love shrimp and oysters. There exists a very serious need for imposing compatibility between the two. Can it be done? That’s the question. Or do we just keep plodding along with our fingers crossed?”

If we ignore history, we aren’t just crossing our fingers — we are guaranteeing a grim future for our coastal communities. The fishermen of Rose Bay warned us decades ago. Will we listen this time? Or will we, once again, pay the price for failing to protect the wetlands that sustain our way of life?

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns.

Guest commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

As one of his final acts in office, former President Joe Biden announced a permanent ban on offshore drilling in United States waters. The action protects 625 million acres of ocean from new offshore oil and gas leasing — stretching from Alaska’s Bering Sea and the Pacific Coast to the eastern Gulf of Mexico, and the Atlantic Coast.  

Offshore drilling is costly, dirty, and poses a serious risk to coastal communities and states that rely on tourism and commercial fishing industries.  

President Donald Trump acted quickly to revoke these protections in one of the dozens of executive orders he issued on his first day in office. His actions are in keeping with his campaign promise to “drill, baby, drill,” catering to the oil and gas companies eager to tap into fossil fuel reserves on public lands despite the harm to people and the environment. But many Americans oppose offshore drilling — and the unacceptable risks it poses to our coasts, communities, and climate — and President Trump’s executive order will face pushback from environmental advocates and local leaders.

North Carolina’s coastal communities are keenly aware of the risk that comes with selling off public waters to private industries. In 2015, over 60 coastal cities and towns in North Carolina passed resolutions opposing offshore drilling to the Obama administration’s proposal to open the south Atlantic to oil and gas development. Local leaders understood then – as they do today – the real cost of having big oil companies dropping anchor along their shores. Commercial fisheries and shipping ports keep the saltwater economy moving along the Outer Banks. The state’s tourism industry is crucial to local economies, with travelers spending $35 billion every year.  

In short, coastal communities aren’t willing to pay the price for selling our oceans to the highest bidder.  

This also isn’t the first time that President Trump has attempted to undo measures protecting our ocean from oil and gas development. In his first term, he tried to undo similar protections put in place by the Obama administration. But a federal judge ruled that Trump’s 2017 executive order violated the Outer Continental Shelf Lands Act (OCSLA) and reinstated the Obama-era protections.

While President Trump has been quick to sign off a flurry of executive orders, his actions still must follow the laws enacted by Congress.   

The Trump administration’s actions make it clear that they are out of touch with community interests, concerns about climate change and the need to protect our natural resources.

We cannot afford to sell off our oceans at the expense of our people and our planet.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns.

Guest commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

Each winter, as lights and decorations are packed away, holiday trees are typically discarded or sent to landfills in most areas. But in the Wilmington region of North Carolina, the Cape Fear Chapter of the Surfrider Foundation has been doing something different.

For the past 11 years and this past Saturday, this chapter has led the community in repurposing Christmas trees to rebuild dunes in critically eroded stretches of the coastline. These efforts not only help restore the natural landscape, but also educate the community about one of North Carolina’s most pressing challenges: protecting our coastline in the face of sea-level rise and intensifying storms.

The threats facing Cape Fear’s beaches are not unique. Across North Carolina, rising seas and worsening coastal erosion jeopardize the Tar Heel State’s ecosystems, communities, infrastructure, and economies. Climate change has led to higher tides, more frequent flooding, and even homes collapsing into the ocean due to severe erosion and storm damage.

North Carolina’s coastal property owners and communities have typically addressed chronic erosion and storm damage through beach renourishment or replenishment. This short-sighted “solution” disrupts natural sand movement and processes, frequently smother adjacent ecosystems and wildlife, and can cost taxpayers tens of millions of dollars, or more, to maintain in the long term. One storm event can easily wipe out a multimillion dollar project in a matter of a few hours, leaving North Carolina’s coastal habitats at risk of permanent loss due to sea level rise and flooding.

This is where nature-based solutions come in.

Nature-based solutions restore and conserve ecosystems by leveraging natural processes and resources to enhance biodiversity, protect habitats, and promote resilient communities. They also help mitigate disaster risk, including the effects of sea level rise, flooding, and storm surge.

In the case of the Cape Fear Chapter’s annual dune restoration event, volunteers place Christmas trees collected by the city along coastal areas in need of protection and rebuilding. Working closely with local government, community members, and wildlife advocacy groups, Surfrider ensures the trees are positioned to maximize sand capture while avoiding harm to wildlife. Once staked in place, the trees act as natural dune infrastructure, capturing sand and fostering the regrowth of critical dune plants and ecosystems.

In 2024, the Surfrider Foundation launched its Climate Action Program to focus on implementing nature-based solutions for climate impacts in coastal areas from Cape Fear to Hawaii, and everywhere in between. While the official program is new, volunteers across the country have long been leading efforts to address these challenges in their communities through the Surfrider Foundation. The Cape Fear Chapter exemplifies this approach, demonstrating how grassroots action can drive meaningful coastal change.

Across Surfrider’s network, volunteers are championing local initiatives to combat the impacts of climate change. From advocating for living shorelines and marsh restoration to promoting managed retreat, Surfrider’s activists are showing how nature-based solutions can address erosion and flooding sustainably.

The annual Christmas tree dune restoration event in Cape Fear serves as an entry point to educate the community on how nature-based solutions can mitigate climate-driven impacts. Through hands-on volunteer opportunities, Surfrider emphasizes the need for widespread adoption of sustainable practices along our coasts. These efforts empower community members to advocate for long-term, science-based policies, calling on decision-makers to prioritize the resilience of their communities.

As we welcome 2025, let’s make this the year we reimagine our relationship with North Carolina’s coast. By embracing nature-based solutions and working together to protect what we love, we can create a thriving, resilient coastline for generations to come.

To get involved with the Cape Fear Chapter’s dune restoration event next year — or to find volunteer opportunities with other Surfrider chapters along the coast — visit surfrider.org/volunteer.

Let’s make the health of our coasts a shared New Year’s resolution.

Surfrider Southeast Regional Manager Kayla Huff contributed to this piece.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns.

Guest column

Who among us are not looking for an off the beaten path location to end what, by all accounts, has been a tumultuous year?

To refine: Who wants to brave the end-of-year weather on the Outer Banks counting the many birds present and making a modest contribution to our knowledge of trends in bird life with implications for all of us?

I’m referring, of course, to the Christmas Bird Counts, the largest and longest-running community science projects in the world. Sponsored by the National Audubon Society. The first counts, 27 of them, began in 1900 and were organized by ornithologist, Frank Chapman, founder and publisher of “Bird-Lore,” which later became Audubon Magazine.

I am the founder and compiler of the Ocracoke and Portsmouth Island Christmas Bird Counts.

Billed as an alternative to a traditional holiday activity known as the “side hunt,” this hunt was a competition to see who could shoot as many birds and animals as possible. Instead, the Christmas Bird Counts focused on just counting birds, recording both species and the number of individuals — a means to promote conservation and improve knowledge of bird populations. It succeeded.

This activity has grown exponentially. Last year there were about 80,000 volunteers and 2,500 counts across 20 countries in the Western Hemisphere. The counts take place during a three-week period from Dec. 14 to Jan. 5 each year.

Two of these counts are held on Ocracoke and Portsmouth islands, the last two days of the year. The Ocracoke count is scheduled for Dec. 30 and Portsmouth, Dec. 31. There have been a few occasions when the dates were reversed due to weather concerns about getting to Portsmouth. They are RSVP only and many of the volunteer birders participate in both. RSVPs are needed because we need to know how many will be heading to Portsmouth Island, which is only accessible by boat and part of Cape Lookout National Seashore.

A count period covers 24 hours, but Portsmouth is much shorter as the participants board a skiff run by Capt. Donald Austin from Ocracoke Village in the early morning and return by midafternoon. Capt. Austin has a new skiff that accommodates up to 22 passengers. There is a $25 fee.

A  typical Ocracoke count can tally 80-85 species and Portsmouth, 65.

Portsmouth is a particularly enticing count. Stark, with wonderful winter light and mosquito-free, one can wander the village with binoculars in one hand and a camera in the other. Portsmouth is noted for having one of the state’s highest wintering populations for American oystercatchers. A few years ago, the counters were thankful for a bald eagle. Not only as a good bird for the count, but flying low, it spooked 29 hidden oystercatchers that flew into the air.

On Ocracoke you can walk the winter beach, scan the marshes and walk through maritime forests. Double-crested cormorants will be in the thousands and yellow-rumped warblers in the hundreds. Northern gannets, red knots and red-breasted nuthatches are usually reported.

One of the tricks to withstand winter weather, sometimes high winds and low temperatures, is to dress appropriately with more layers the better.

If spending the days counting birds is not enough, there is a social tally rally famed for its vegetarian chili and key lime pie at the compiler’s house near the Ocracoke lighthouse that takes place in early evening of the final day of the year.

The Carolina Bird Club has details about the North Carolina and South Carolina Christmas counts.

If you are interested in participating in either of these two counts, contact the compiler, me, Peter Vankevich, via Facebook or petevankevich@gmail.com.

Guest commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

Where were you in 1970? Some red drum still living in the million-acre Pamlico Sound were born that very year.

Red drum contribute to the financial health of our coastal economies to the tune of hundreds of millions of dollars every year. Together with speckled trout, flounder, striped bass, and weakfish, the group is considered North Carolina’s top five inshore coastal fisheries.

Despite the significance to our economy and culture, those responsible for maintaining a robust fishery population have precious little data to guide their efforts. Should the flounder season be longer or shorter next year if we even have one? Will speckled trout daily limits be reduced if current trends continue?

These questions cut to the core of maintaining sustainable, self-replenishing fisheries. But without reliable numbers, many policy decisions will be wrong, risking the very existence of critical species in our coastal waters, unnecessarily limiting recreational fishing seasons, and ultimately harming the entire fishing industry.

In October 2023, the North Carolina General Assembly acted to address this problem by advancing a new harvest reporting policy. The Marine Fisheries Commission is currently considering the rules to implement this program.

On the commercial side, about 6,000 licenses are sold per year. Of those licenses, only about 2,000 holders report at least one sales transaction to a licensed fish dealer. What impact, if any, do the other 4,000 license holders who report no annual sales activity have on the various fisheries?

This commercial data gap has been a constant source of uncertainty. The new harvest reporting policy aims to close this gap by requiring that all fish and shellfish kept under the privileges of a commercial fishing license be reported, regardless of whether those fish were sold or not.

On the recreational side, the data used to inform fishery management decisions is collected through a federal survey process known as the Marine Recreational Information Program. With rare exceptions, this annual data stream is the only source of recreational harvest data used by state fish agencies to set size limits, daily creel limits, and season lengths.

Not shockingly, the federal surveys have their limitations, and in August 2023 new sources of error were identified that brought the survey program to a halt through at least 2026.

Here lies the opportunity the legislature seized to do something different. If successful, North Carolina will have its own data stream to evaluate harvest trends for our most valuable coastal fish species. A visionary observation from the policy sponsor noted, “The new fisheries data program, which will be phased in over a period of three years, positions the state of North Carolina as a pioneer in the field of commercial and recreational harvest reporting.”

Yes, reporting catches can be an annoyance, and some anglers will not comply. But consider North Carolina’s existing mandatory reporting programs for bear, deer, and turkey. Reporting big game harvests is ingrained in our culture, although it might shock you to learn that not everyone reports their deer kills. And here is the remarkable thing — that’s okay! The data is still valuable.

Our state wildlife agency doesn’t need 100% accuracy because it monitors trends in the reported harvest – how it compares to last season, where it’s concentrated, and the like.

It will be several years before consistent reporting rates are achieved for the five recreational fish species included in the new reporting program. Even if initial reporting rates are low, the numbers will level out over time. Once that happens, the trend data could validate federal survey estimates, inform harvest rates during short keeper seasons (like southern flounder), and unify data collection for all five recreational species across the various management jurisdictions.  

The state needs time to build out the reporting system, make it user-friendly, and educate the angling public to encourage participation and promote compliance. Like anything new, the data’s true value will be determined over time. For a working example, check out Alabama’s “Snapper Check,” a state reporting program used alongside the federal data that lengthened red snapper seasons in the Gulf.

This program can be a cornerstone in promoting world-class fisheries in North Carolina. With better data, the state can more effectively manage our valuable coastal fisheries that drive economic activity across the coast. While the new requirements cause anglers to face the same minor inconvenience hunters do, the desired benefit is that over time there will be more fish and longer seasons for all anglers.

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns.

Guest commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. 

Over the past five years, North Carolina communities have endured storm after storm. From the estimated $16 billion of damage caused by the powerful forces of Hurricane Florence to excessive rainfall that engulfed mountain towns during Tropical Storm Fred to the lasting impacts from various unnamed storms, we’ve seen firsthand how flooding disasters are changing North Carolina and its communities.

Now, more than ever, new approaches are required to address the increasing rate and severity of extreme rain events in North Carolina to safeguard communities, ecosystems and local economies. One way to reduce these risks is to build flood resilience across the state, an effort that has proven to save $6 for every $1 spent pre-disaster.  

North Carolina’s Department of Environmental Quality (DEQ) is developing the state’s first-ever Flood Resiliency Blueprint in collaboration with numerous stakeholders, including Environmental Defense Fund (EDF), conservation partners, agricultural organizations, business representatives and local governments. And we are thrilled to celebrate the release of DEQ’s draft plan, which was presented to the General Assembly on Jan. 23.  

At the Joint Legislative Commission on Government Operations Hurricane Response and Recovery subcommittee, DEQ Secretary Elizabeth Biser envisioned that “five years from now, other states will be looking to North Carolina because our process lets communities get back to day to day living quicker after storm events.” The Blueprint is a big step forward, resulting in a massive statewide effort dedicated to building resilient communities equipped to reduce and manage flood risk and vulnerabilities. 

What is the Flood Resiliency Blueprint?  

In 2021, the North Carolina legislature provided funding and a directive for DEQ to develop North Carolina’s Flood Resiliency Blueprint in response to increasing flood risk. Since then, community leaders, government partners, technical experts and academics have worked together to advance this initiative, ultimately designed to help all North Carolinians make informed flood resilience planning decisions.  

The Blueprint will compile all relevant resources and knowledge into one place, and once completed, will function as an online-decision support tool for state and local leaders. This dynamic tool will help establish a single standardized methodology for North Carolina’s flood planning and includes strategies specific to each of the state’s major river basins, including aspects of stormwater maintenance and holistic watershed management. 

DEQ plans to also include components such as multi-scale modeling, scenario exploration systems, guidance documents and planning tools. Additionally, DEQ will continue to update and refine the Blueprint draft by referencing advisory group feedback and community engagement, in addition to other resources. 

How will the blueprint support NC communities? 

One goal of the Blueprint is to help state and local leaders determine where to invest in flood resilience. The Blueprint will give leaders a better understanding of which communities are most vulnerable to flood risk and who needs financial support and technical assistance. 

To achieve this, DEQ will work with communities across five river basins in 2024. They will host information exchanges in each basin to allow communities the opportunity to co-design an action strategy to reduce flood risk within their river basin.  

Ahead of these exchanges, communities will have access to online tutorials and technical assistance to learn more about the Blueprint and how to use the platform. Additionally, the state legislature has pre-allocated nearly $100 million to DEQ to begin implementing projects upon completion of the Blueprint. 

How to continue advancing the Flood Resiliency Blueprint 

It is essential to get the Blueprint right. All levels of government need to work together on this – and we need to trust in science and look to our community leaders for guidance.  

To support downstream communities, the Blueprint must be able to evaluate flooding at a watershed scale to understand how much water is coming down the river and where that water flows out of the river during a flood. When communities seek solutions to reduce their vulnerability to flooding, they should consider what the area’s watershed looks like and how solutions could impact different areas. It’s recommended to look in-town and upstream to ensure the most cost-effective solutions are grounded in science and achieve the resilience results a community needs. Meanwhile, we must also avoid selecting solutions that increase flooding impacts on a neighbor’s property or in towns downstream. The Blueprint could make all this possible, leading to wiser investments of public funds and better outcomes for residents. 

Additionally, EDF encourages DEQ to continue prioritizing North Carolina’s communities in flood planning to align state resilience goals with local community needs. Community members need to understand the purpose of the Blueprint and have access to it so that they can help improve it. Ultimately, a fully built online decision support tool can help a community understand the trade-offs between various flood solutions.  

EDF looks forward to working with DEQ to continue advancing this important initiative and build resilience for the beautiful state of North Carolina.  

Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns.

Guest commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

MANNS HARBOR – Here, on the front lines of the battle against climate change, the war looks lost.

Point Peter Road leads straight into the Croatan Sound where rising seas, higher tides, and monstrous storms batter the fragile coastline. The saltwater poisons and erodes the peaty soil before what’s left disappears under the relentless waves. A man-made canal carries the seawater inland where it kills cypresses and pines and turns the forest into shrubby marsh. Freshwater, blocked from running into the bay by the rising sound, pools under trees and kills them.

This corner of the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge stands no higher than one foot.

“This particular stretch of the coastline, due to the hydrology, experiences extremely high rates of erosion,” says Sarah Toner, the visitor services manager for the Coastal North Carolina National Wildlife Refuges Complex. “This is ground zero.”

All, however, may not be lost. A healthy infusion of climate-fighting cash — $27.5 million — from the Inflation Reduction Act will likely help Alligator River and a handful of other nearby refuges and state lands keep the ravages of climate change at bay. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and partners will deploy “nature-based solutions,” including oyster reefs, marsh sills, dredge spoils, and re-wetted peatlands, to protect the coast from a steadily warming world.

“The threat is that more of these communities out here will become really challenging places to live with more flooding, more soil erosion, and more frequent wildfires,” says Chris Baillie, the climate adaptation coordinator for the North Carolina Coastal Federation. “There is a need to be really judicious in how climate funding is spent because there simply isn’t enough money out there to address all the climate vulnerabilities faced by people and nature.”

‘We’re trying to hang on’

The Alligator River refuge — “mile after uninhabited mile on both Highways 64 and 264,” reads a 1990 Service brochure – is an otherworldly expanse of dredged peat fields, fresh and brackish marshes, pocket forests, and lakes. Established in 1984, the refuge is surrounded by water and serves as the second line of defense, behind the Outer Banks, against a marauding Mother Nature. The 152,000-acre refuge is one of nine, low-lying refuges in eastern North Carolina, all facing varying degrees of climate-induced threats.

Its purpose: protect the pocosin wetlands, which provide ample habitat for the wintering waterfowl that fill the skies, the black bears in numbers found nowhere else on the East Coast, and the elusive, and federally endangered, Red Wolves. Another goal: to save the eastern black rail, “the most secretive of the secretive marsh birds and one of the least understood bird species in North America,” according to the Atlantic Coast Joint Venture, a federal-state bird conservation partnership.

The birds, federally listed as threatened, once flitted across salt marshes from Connecticut to Florida, including those alongside Point Peter Road. But habitat destruction, due to drained marshes and rising seas, has decimated the population by 90 percent. Maybe 350 breeding pairs remain, according to the Joint Venture, “a catastrophic decline over the past 30 years.”

Seas, worldwide, rose on average 1.2 millimeters a year for most of the 20th century. Since 1993, though, the rate has more than doubled to 3.2 millimeters, according to the United Nations Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. Yet reports show the seas have been rising three to four times as much as the global rate between North Carolina and Massachusetts which leads to more frequent inundations and salt marsh loss.

“We’re losing a lot of land,” says Fred Wurster, a Service geomorphologist who’s leading the climate-fighting project. “Not only is the shoreline retreating rapidly, but the habitat we manage is transitioning very rapidly to salt marsh or open water. It creates a situation where we’re trying to hang on to what’s here long enough to give species a chance to move further inland.”

Much of Alligator River, like much of the coastal plain, was logged of cypress and Atlantic white cedar and drained for farmland which dried out the peaty soils. When the mega-farms proved unprofitable, the scarred and desiccated fields became refuges and wildlife management areas. Yet the salty water from surrounding estuaries creeps relentlessly inland poisoning the soil and further drying the spongy peat bogs. Without rain, the carbon-rich pocosins become tinderboxes for wildfires that can last months and cause significant damage to the ecosystem, and global health.

In 1955, a fire on the other side of the Alligator River burned 203,000 acres. Thirty years later, the Allen Road fire burned 95,000 acres. The 2008 Evans Road fire, though, sticks most in locals’ craws. It burned — above and below ground in the deep peat — for seven months before it was extinguished. Air quality as far north as Norfolk, Virginia, suffered. More than 40,000 acres, mostly in the Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, burned. The Service estimated that the fire released six million tons of climate-warming carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.

Peatlands cover only three percent of the world’s land mass, yet they store twice as much carbon as all the planet’s forests. They are enormous carbon “sinks.” Duke University calculated in 2022 that rewetting and restoring 250,000 acres of abandoned peat bogs across the Southeast could prevent 4.3 million tons of carbon dioxide from escaping into the atmosphere each year.

“Southern pocosin peatlands punch far above their weight in terms of their capacity for carbon storage,” says Curtis Richardson, founding director of the Duke University Wetland Center. “Acre for acre, they can store significantly more carbon than forests or grasslands.”

Largest climate-fighting act

Arch Bracher stood at the end of a long pier casting mullet into Rose Bay where the freshwater Pamlico River turns brackish at the Pamlico Sound. It was an unseasonably warm, Carolina-blue morning and the red drum weren’t biting. And neither was Bracher when talk turned to climate change.

“They talk about sea level rise, blah, blah, blah,” says Bracher, a charter boat captain who runs the Pelican out of Oregon Inlet. “But the ocean’s not getting higher. It’s just eating away stuff. They’re talking about the water rising one inch over the next 100 years. I think that’s just propaganda.”

A forest of dead, ghostly pines stood in the adjoining Swanquarter National Wildlife Refuge. Rising seas have eaten away the banks on both sides of the Bell Island Pier. A study a decade ago showed that an average of three feet of peaty soil disappeared each year due to ever-higher water. In 2012, The Nature Conservancy and the Service built a limestone sill 30 feet offshore. The reef reduces the power of the waves that pound the shoreline. Erosion slows. Sand and silt accumulate between the shore and the sill creating new beach for plants to take hold and marsh to reform. Oysters and mussels attach to the marl further strengthening, and renourishing, the reef.

“We’re building good oyster habitat, and getting recruitment, which helps with water quality as well,” says Aaron McCall, a regional land steward for The Nature Conservancy. “We don’t want to reach a tipping point where the system gets destroyed and it doesn’t provide any service to the environment or the local community.”

The Conservancy surveyed 10 sites — six protected by the reef, four unprotected — near the pier to determine whether erosion continues apace. Erosion stopped or slowed at all protected sites; it continued at the unprotected sites.

Limestone sills and oyster reefs are major components of so-called living shorelines and hallmarks of nature-based solutions to climate change. And they are precisely the types of projects funded by the Inflation Reduction Act that will be built across eastern North Carolina.

The IRA, at $369 billion, is the largest climate-fighting package in U.S. history. Its goal is to move the country fully towards renewable energy while reducing greenhouse gas emissions that fuel climate change. Billions of dollars are dedicated to agricultural conservation, forest protection, and wildfire risk reduction.

“There is often an assumption that tackling the climate crisis requires only technological solutions,” the White House said in November 2022 describing the IRA’s nature-based offerings. “Too often, the power of nature is overlooked and undervalued as a core element of a more just, livable world today and for future generations.”

The Service received $250 million; nearly half will help restore federal wildlife refuges and state wildlife management areas “that have been affected by adverse weather events.” No other project received as much money — $27.5 million — as the Albemarle-Pamlico region. The North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission will likely get $5 million of that amount for climate-fighting work at wildlife management areas across the coastal plain.

There’s really nothing new or radical about enlisting nature to solve nature’s problems. The Roosevelt administration, during the Dust Bowl, paid farmers to plant 220 million trees from Texas to North Dakota to reduce erosion, protect livestock, and create wildlife habitat. Oyster reefs have long been deployed off Florida. Sand is pumped on barrier islands across the Mississippi River Delta. The Service and partners also spent $38 million pumping sand, restoring marsh, and replumbing the hydrology at Delaware’s Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge which was decimated by Superstorm Sandy in 2012.

Nature-based engineering contrasts the coastal hardening tactics — sea walls, jetties, bulkheads, rip-rap — of centuries past. Sea walls, for example, only protect shorelines for so long against rising seas. More vicious storms and hurricanes easily top them. And the walls may protect one section of coast while causing erosion along another section.

“Nature-based solutions are definitely the way to go because you’re designing something that takes into account the natural hydrology and actual landscape in the first place,” Wurster says. “The things you’re building will be more stable in the long run. You’re not fighting against nature. Plus, these strategies tend to be more resilient and less expensive in the long run.”

Buying time

Climate change’s past, present, and alarming future unspools along Mashoes Road on the Alligator River refuge’s north end. A somewhat healthy marsh on the right gives way to shrub, pine, and oak on the left. In the distance, the skeletal remains of once-prominent trees hug East Lake. Eventually, inexorably, the salt water will reach the forest and destroy it too.

“We see, year after year, the forest retreating and turn into this ghost forest,” says the refuge’s Toner, a biologist by training. “We’re trying to keep what we have here for as long as we can.”

Help’s on the way. Much of the $27.5 million will be spent restoring fragile coastal ecosystems via shoreline protection and peatland restoration. IRA money could plug drainage ditches and add dikes, tidal gates, or wooden risers to keep saltwater at bay while restoring the natural flow of water over the land. Culverts may be dug to let water flow beneath roads. Restoration, or preservation, of trees, shrubs, and wetlands could provide habitat for Red Wolves, black rails, and other migratory birds. Communities near and far will likely benefit from a reduction in wildfires and a sequestration of carbon.

Oyster reefs, for example, could be built, or expanded, at Cedar Island and Pea Island refuges. A canal might be dredged, and a pump station added, at Lake Mattamuskeet. A logging road could be removed at Roanoke River refuge to let water flow naturally again. The marsh sill at the Bell Island Pier could be expanded.

Work is set to begin in 2024. Baillie, with the nonprofit Coastal Federation, says there’s no time to waste.

“It would be really disingenuous to say, ‘Hey, these funds are going to take care of all of our problems and let people live the way they currently do forever,’” he says. “There are tough decisions to be made. But these funds can have a big impact helping people and natural communities adapt while buying some time to figure out what’s the best way forward.”

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To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues.

In 2018, one of my best friends, Ashley, moved from her lifelong home in northern Durham to Beaufort, North Carolina, a beautiful coastal town with gorgeous views, a walkable historic district and a peaceful, slow pace of life. I visited on numerous occasions, enjoying the fresh seafood, taking trips to sea on her family boat and falling in love with the old-world, Southern charm of North Carolina’s fourth oldest town.

Once college started and my academic and extracurricular obligations made trips to Beaufort difficult, I was not able to return to the town, until my girlfriend spent the spring 2023 semester at the Duke University Marine Laboratory, a small research facility and campus on Pivers Island in Beaufort. She took marine biology classes and conducted research, quantifying chlorophyll biomass variations at different depths in the water column. When I took a weekend visit, I was fortunate enough to learn about other research being conducted by bright Duke students and staff at the lab, including the measurement of ocean warming and acidification through year-round water samples, the evaluation of microplastic presence in oysters at their aquafarm and analysis on the impact of the decreasing fish population on local fishing economies.

These discouraging findings made me curious — how are these climate trends impacting the residents of Beaufort? And how can Beaufort residents play a role in mitigating these impacts?

Beaufort has faced worsening coastal and climate hazards, like sea level rise, flooding and hurricanes, threatening the homes, businesses and natural infrastructure of the “frontline community” and jeopardizing the well-being and prosperity of residents.

The alarming rise in sea levels and increased flooding during storms disrupts coastal communities like Beaufort. More than 1,300 residential and commercial properties along the North Carolina coast, valued at almost $340 million, are at risk of chronic flooding. If no climate action is taken, by 2045, this estimate increases to almost 15,600 properties, valued at almost $4 billion.

Beaufort has faced particularly severe flooding, especially on the historic Front Street, a bustling hub for local businesses, where the roads are becoming more frequently impassable, hurting the local economy.

The frequency and intensity of extreme weather events will continue to have disastrous effects on Beaufort and other coastal communities. Hurricane Florence in 2018 caused $1 billion in combined crop and livestock losses and $50 million in forestry losses in North Carolina. From 2004 to 2016, the North Carolina Department of Transportation (NCDOT) spent an average of $65 million per year on storm cleanup. From 2017 to 2019, they spent an average of $222 million per year.

Warmer waters and ocean acidification are disrupting marine ecosystems, leading to declining fish populations and shifting habitats for commercially caught fish species. For example, the summer flounder, a species integral to the Beaufort’s trawling industry, is moving north, damaging the local economy and reducing the local food supply.

Commercial fishermen in Beaufort are also facing decreasing shrimp and blue crab populations.

Beaufort residents are not powerless in fostering change. In addition to embracing climate-conscious behaviors and sparking climate change discussion with family and friends, Beaufort residents must exercise their voting power to elect politicians that will protect wetlands and other vital climate-mitigating ecological systems, delegate resources to disaster relief and promote the executive branch’s ability to fight pollution.

In 2022, Beaufort received a grant to participate in the North Carolina Division of Coastal Management’s North Carolina Resilient Coastal Communities Program (RCCP), helping the town develop strategies for dealing with coastal and climate hazards. The public is a key partner in this project, as they can provide local knowledge and perspective on the coastal and climate hazards, informing the resilience strategies. Beaufort residents can help foster effective, equitable solutions and shape the responses taken through the program.

Beaufort is a beautiful, easygoing town with a captivating history spanning over 300 years. The town was organized in 1709. Blackbeard the Pirate ported in Beaufort frequently. The town played roles in both the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812. The destruction of Beaufort is the destruction of history. Beaufort residents must take action.

See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues.

MANTEO — Recently, I was presented with an exciting opportunity to board the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter (USCGC) Richard Etheridge while it was temporarily docked at the USCG Shipyard in Baltimore and had ventured this far north for the very first time.

It had been over 10 years since I last boarded the cutter when it was commissioned into service in 2012 in Florida, during which time I became the director of outreach and education for the Pea Island Preservation Society Inc. (PIPSI), an organization devoted to sharing the history of the historic all-Black Pea Island United States Life-Saving Service Station (USLSS) led by Keeper Etheridge.

I knew it would be a perfect opportunity to share information about our Freedmen, Surfmen, Heroes education initiative, a program aimed at teaching this history to youth, including, in particular, the unique and fascinating story of the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Richard Etheridge and its connection to the Pea Island station.

The Cutter Richard Etheridge, based in Miami, Florida, is the second of the Coast Guard’s Sentinel-Class Cutters. In 2012, the cutter was commissioned into service in Port Everglades, Florida, in honor of its namesake Richard Etheridge, who was once enslaved on Roanoke Island, fought for freedom during the Civil War, and became the first African American in the nation to command a USLSS station.

On Jan. 24,1880, Etheridge, who at the time was the lowest ranked surfman at a neighboring station, was selected to be the Keeper (the person in charge of a lifesaving station) at the Pea Island station. For 67 years, starting in January 1880 when Etheridge took command and ending in March 1947 when the station closed, the lifesaving station at Pea Island was staffed primarily with Black surfmen in the USLSS/USCG. It is the only station in USLSS history manned by an all-Black crew, and one of only two all-Black lifesaving stations in Coast Guard history, the other being a station in New York re-activated for about two years during World War II.

Etheridge and his crew are most known for their Oct. 11, 1896, rescue of all onboard the shipwrecked schooner E.S. Newman (the captain, his wife, three year old son, and six others) on the North Carolina coast late at night and during a hurricane. The rescue resulted in their being awarded the USCG Gold Lifesaving Medal, albeit posthumously and some 100 years after the E.S. Newman rescue occurred. This prestigious medal is the Coast Guard’s highest honor for a daring and heroic rescue. The U.S. Life-Saving Service is the forerunner to the Coast Guard.

For me, visiting the cutter was also deeply personal, as my father had served at the Pea Island station the duration of World War II. He was the last left in charge and helped to decommission the station in 1947. I knew firsthand how important his service at Pea Island and his Coast Guard career was to him.

A visit to the cutter would also allow me the opportunity to talk with the crew about his experiences after attending a segregated USCG boot camp in 1939 and afterwards serving on a cutter as a mess attendant, a servant to white officers on the ship, before being transferred to Pea Island after repeated requests. I had heard him talk often about shining shoes, making beds, and serving meals when forced to joined the USCG as a mess attendant, as enlisting as a mess attendant was the only option available for Black men joining the Coast Guard at the time.

The cutter visit also presented an unexpected opportunity to bring members of my family who live in Maryland with me to the shipyard.

Our recent visit exceeded expectations. It was wonderful to interact with the crew, and quite frankly for me an emotional moment, as I looked at their faces and saw their interest in learning the history associated with the cutter’s namesake and hearing about my father’s life. Likewise, my family loved meeting the crew. Everyone had a wonderful time and especially enjoyed boarding and touring the cutter from top to bottom and learning of its role in the USCG.

As the Oct. 11, 1896, anniversary of the rescue of the E.S. Newman is upon us, it is important to remember the challenges and inequities men like Etheridge and my father faced daily during their lifetime. The anniversary of the rescue of the shipwrecked E.S. Newman calls us to remember this history and to think of why Etheridge and his crew would never live to wear or know of the prestigious medal they received.

A quote from one of the new ensigns on the USCGC Etheridge, a recent 2023 Coast Guard Academy graduate, is perhaps the best reminder of what the story of Keeper Richard Etheridge and the Pea Island Lifesavers teaches us today. In an email sent to me a few days after our visit she wrote “… the crew that attended was very impressed and we left with a greater sense of pride … Thank you for inspiring us and pushing us to think about the importance of our history so we can prevent the negatives and impulse the positives.”

See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

In 2018, Hurricane Florence made landfall near Wilmington, North Carolina, taking 42 lives and costing more than $16 billion in estimated damage. Now, five years later, many residents and communities are still reeling from the storm’s floodwaters. Blue tarps remain on unpatched roofs, businesses have not returned and communities have experienced disproportionate recoveries. 

The immediate and residual impacts from hurricanes Florence and Matthew, Tropical Storm Fred and other subsequent unnamed flooding events have had long-lasting impacts on communities. As a result, these events have encouraged state leaders to take action to better prepare for future storms.

Environmental Defense Fund thanks leaders, as well as businesses, conservation groups and community members, for working to build a more flood-resilient North Carolina. Let’s look at how far we’ve come in the last five years. 

Leaders develop Flood Resiliency Blueprint 

Working in collaboration with state agencies, local governments and nongovernmental organizations, Sen. Jim Perry, R-Lenoir, and Rep. John Bell, R-Wayne, led the authorization of the state’s first Flood Resiliency Blueprint. 

The blueprint will be used as a support tool to guide statewide decisions around resilience and is informed by advanced hydrologic and hydraulic modeling, which demonstrates how much water is flowing and where that water goes during a flood. Ultimately, this information will help guide investment of local, state and federal resilience funding toward cost-effective solutions to reduce flood vulnerability. 

The Flood Resiliency Blueprint will also provide accurate and timely information on flood risks and effective solutions for communities and landowners. This will help guide local efforts to manage and abate flooding within watersheds and river basins and help communities manage risks beyond traditional jurisdictional boundaries. In addition, it helps ensure funding is locally supported and regionally effective. 

Lawmakers expand funding for natural infrastructure

After Hurricane Florence, North Carolina’s state legislature appropriated more than $300 million toward flood mitigation efforts. Included was support to advance natural infrastructure projects and stream improvement efforts through programs at the state’s Department of Agriculture, Department of Cultural and Natural Resources (DCNR) and Department of Environmental Quality (DEQ). 

The Stoney Creek effort is one example where DEQ’s Division of Mitigation Services has engaged private-sector environmental restoration firms to work with landowners and the town of Goldsboro. They have developed a watershed-scale approach to regional flooding using natural infrastructure projects, such as enhancing and restoring wetlands to store storm water and incorporating natural berms or in-ditch structures to slow the flow of storm water. 

Part of the $300 million also went to the DCNR’s Land and Water Fund to advance 17 proposals to implement natural infrastructure projects and to support the planning and construction of additional flood mitigation projects. 

Experts advance research 

State legislators and agency leaders have also advanced new studies through the University of North Carolina Collaboratory and state agencies to research the benefits of flood mitigation solutions and develop new datasets to inform the Flood Resiliency Blueprint and community solutions. 

For example, Dr. Barbara Doll from North Carolina State University led a 15-person research team to explore natural infrastructure solutions in the Neuse River Basin. The study found potential flood reductions of up to 45% in areas of high natural infrastructure adoption.

While Dr. Miyuki Hino from the University of North Carolina collaborated with colleagues and graduate students to examine floodplain management. Through her research, she found that for every building removed from the state’s floodplains, 10 new structures were built, raising concerns that floodplain buyouts are not keeping pace with new development. 

A look toward the road ahead 

Overall, these initiatives have been instrumental in helping North Carolina better prepare for the ongoing and growing threat of flooding and storm risk. We thank North Carolina leaders and collaborators for their recent efforts and ongoing commitment to address flooding. 

But even with this advancement, experts agree that many flood challenges still lie ahead. For instance, due to the Environmental Protection Agency v. Sackett ruling, millions of acres of North Carolina wetlands are now unprotected, leaving communities at risk of losing valuable, flood-reducing ecosystems. This Supreme Court decision shifts responsibility for the conservation and management of certain wetlands from federal agencies to the states. Whether and how North Carolina policymakers address the potential loss of wetlands, in addition to how much development occurs in the state’s floodplains, will significantly impact the story that is told after future storms. 

We call on leaders to prioritize state-level coordination and increase local capacity to identify and implement watershed-scale solutions, recognizing that flood solutions can’t be developed within traditional jurisdictional or landowner boundaries.

We also encourage leaders to ensure protection of wetlands and other natural flood defenses to enable communities, landowners and all North Carolinians to better prepare for and quickly recover from the next flood or storm.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

North Carolina has over 10.5 million residents, many of whom love to eat seafood.

North Carolinians who love local seafood might not know that the 4^th Circuit of the U.S. Court of Appeals recently rejected an attempt by some recreational charter fishermen and a former producer of a North Carolina fishing show to make it illegal for North Carolina shrimp trawlers to discard fish while fishing for shrimp and to catch shrimp with trawls in Pamlico Sound unless the fishermen had a permit from Environmental Protection Agency or its state proxy.

To the relief of commercial fishermen, the 4^th Circuit ruled unanimously against the plaintiffs, noting their claims would have required recreational fishermen to get an environmental permit before releasing fish back to the water and would have substantial impacts on the public. The shrimpers waited three anxious years for the litigation to run its course and, of course, incurring substantial legal fees to combat the claims.

North Carolina seafood consumers should take note because most of the shrimp caught and sold in our state comes from trawlers in Pamlico Sound. Shrimp is one of North Carolina’s most important seafood and are one of the USA’s most consumed seafood. Had this attempt been successful it would have had significant impacts to folks that love to eat NC shrimp.

Related: Court upholds that trawling doesn’t violate Clean Water Act

Seafood lovers should be attentive because this lawsuit is just one of many attempts by folks in the last 15 years to restrict access to local seafood by abolishing or severely restricting commercial fishing in our state. I observe these increasing efforts with great concern not just as an avid local seafood consumer, but also as a professional fisheries scientist and educator of coastal issues. I served the citizens of our state for 30 years as a coastal fisheries biologist and helped develop conservation policies for the last 15 years of my career. I was honored to serve on the North Carolina Marine Fisheries Commission. I spent almost 10 years after my retirement teaching people about coastal resources at the one of the North Carolina Aquariums and at two of our university marine labs.

These attempts to severely restrict or abolish certain commercial fishing practices are becoming more numerous and extreme in recent years. Proposed legislation, lawsuits such as the 4^th Circuit case, petitions, and other drastic efforts have been attempted that would deny consumers access to local seafood.

Attempts have been made to deny seafood consumers access to certain fish by making them gamefish (illegal to sell), even when at the time their populations were deemed sustainable through scientific assessments.

Efforts have been made to ban specific types of nets used by commercial fishermen to catch fish, when science did not support such draconian measures. Vast portions of areas have been closed to certain types of commercial fishing gear in recent years.

Proposals have been made to close vast portions of current shrimping grounds. Substantial increases in fees commercial fishermen have been proposed. Lowering the numbers of commercial fishermen has been seriously considered. I could go on.

The current number of North Carolina commercial fishermen able to sell seafood is fewer than 2,500 and has been steadily declining the last 15 years. Commercial landings by North Carolina fishermen are at the lowest level since the 1950s. Yet recreational landings and recreational fishing trips have increased since the 1990s. There are an estimated 1.5 million people fishing recreationally in our coastal area. North Carolina is one of the top states in the USA in terms of number of recreational fishing trips and number of fish caught.

These attempts to further limit access to seafood for consumers from wild harvest comes even when the USA has one of the strongest fish conservation policies in the world and North Carolina has one of the most comprehensive fisheries management programs in the USA. Our state is one of the few states that prohibits overfishing by law and is required to develop/implement fisheries management plans based on science. Fisheries in the USA and North Carolina have to be sustainably managed by law. Commercial fishing is one of the most regulated businesses in the USA.

These attempts come when the USA is the second highest consumer of seafood in the world, yet 70-85% of the seafood we consume is imported and only 1-2% is inspected. Our country’s citizens are eating more seafood each year. Research increasingly shows that seafood is a nutritious source of protein. Experts recognize that sustainable seafood production helps the USA address food security issues. In our state one in six children is experiencing malnutrition or hunger. Tourism experts note that when folks visit our coastal areas, they expect to receive local seafood when they visit restaurants.

North Carolina is a unique state, with its vast coastal waters, diverse fisheries, variety of fish species, and a long history of commercial fishing. Fishing and farming have been cornerstones of our past since 1700s. Our commercial fishing industry is mostly composed of small family businesses. The 2,500 or so commercial fishermen help provide food to the 10.5 million North Carolina residents and the millions others in our country who enjoy seafood. Many folks do not have access to our coastal waters or choose to have someone else provide these wonderful food resources to them.

So, I hope seafood consumers better realize that North Carolina fishermen and their associated businesses need our help. Stay alert, ask for local seafood whenever possible, and get informed/involved. Consumers can learn more from seafood consumer education groups such as NC Catch and Carteret Catch or the North Carolina Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services – Seafood Marketing.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

If you bought a home in North Carolina, you likely were never told whether it had previously flooded or whether you are legally required to purchase flood insurance, let alone the cost of that insurance.

That’s because in North Carolina the seller of a property does not have to disclose any of this information. 

A study produced by Milliman, an international insurance actuary, estimated that 13,237 homes were purchased in 2021 in North Carolina that had previously been damaged in floods. None of the sellers of those homes were required to tell the buyers about the history of flood damages. And a home that has flooded once is likely to flood again.

Milliman estimated that North Carolina home buyers who purchased a previously flooded home will pay, on average, $18,164 in unanticipated damages over a 15-year mortgage and $36,328 over a 30-year mortgage. As flood disasters become more frequent and severe and sea levels rise, those damages will climb considerably.

For most of us, if we were to choose between living in a home that’s never flooded and a home that’s flooded repeatedly, we’d choose the one that’s never flooded. Why? Because fleeing rising floodwaters, losing your possessions, and having to spend months cleaning up and rebuilding drains your bank account and it’s incredibly stressful. However, if we do not have the right to know a home’s flood history and risk, then we can be unknowingly forced into this exact situation.

The North Carolina Real Estate Commission is now poised to remedy this problem and grant home buyers the right to know a home’s flood history and other flood risk information. On Aug. 1, the commission closed a public comment period on changes to the state’s mandatory disclosure form. The commission will likely add a series of important questions about flooding that sellers will have to answer and provide to a home buyer – for the first time ever. 

The overwhelming majority of North Carolina residents agree with the commission that this is the right decision. In a poll conducted by the Global Strategy Group, 83% of North Carolinians supported a requirement that sellers tell renters or home buyers the truth about past flooding. Republicans and Democrats, people in the mountains and along the coasts, people of all races and walks of life all agreed that it was wrong to hide such information.

The Real Estate Commission is to be congratulated for putting this policy out for public comment and making sure home buyers are fully informed. It’s unfair that someone selling a house knows about flooding problems and can hide that from the buyer – who is left to find out for themselves after the next flood.

Given the state’s ongoing recovery from hurricanes Matthew in 2016, Florence in 2018, and other flooding events that have occurred throughout the state, this decision is long overdue.

As we enter the most active part of 2023 hurricane season, the commission is taking the right step at the right time.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

We in the Carolinas share space with a wonderful but imperiled plant, the Venus flytrap.

People everywhere know and love this unique carnivorous plant for its remarkable ability to ensnare insects within toothed, snap-trap leaves with a hair-trigger, allowing them to snap shut around a struggling insect within milliseconds. A century before “Little Shop of Horrors,” Charles Darwin was so enchanted he had collectors send him these “most wonderful” plants for experiments. 

Although they are known around the world, we only find wild Venus flytraps in a few special habitats scattered across the coastal plains of North and South Carolina within about 100 miles of Wilmington. This highly restricted range reflects the flytrap’s needs for open, sunny, nutrient-poor, and wet habitats scattered among seasonally flooded depressions in longleaf pine savannas and along small creeks with shrub thickets in the Sandhills. Flytraps also need recurrent fires. Without them, woody shrubs quickly overtop and shade out these plants.

Development has shrunk the range of the flytrap and extinguished many populations. If you’ve driven to the beach in recent years, you’ve seen golf courses, housing, and commercial areas where flytraps once grew. In addition, poachers who illegally dig up the plants to sell them have depleted many flytrap populations.

The flytrap’s highly restricted range makes it particularly vulnerable. Remarkably, more than 75% of all wild plants occur in just four large populations on Marine Corps Base Camp LeJeune, NC state game lands, and in the Green Swamp (owned and managed by The Nature Conservancy). Small populations on private lands are vulnerable to losing the habitat patches or the fire and water regimes that sustain them.

These threats and concerns led botanists and conservationists to petition the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) in 2016 to list the Venus flytrap as federally endangered. The International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN) assigned the plant to “Vulnerable” status on its Red List in 2020.

Despite these threats, the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service has ruled that the Venus flytrap “is not facing an imminent threat of extinction now or in the foreseeable future” (July 25, 2023, decision). They point in particular to eight “highly resilient” populations they rate as stable, protected, and well-managed, which should suffice to sustain this species, eliminating any need for federal regulatory protection.

We hope the USFWS is right. We fear they acted on incomplete information and with more optimism and confidence than is warranted. They pin hopes for this species on land managers’ abilities to successfully protect and manage a few remnant populations. History is littered with failures to sustain large and apparently stable and well-managed populations of other species that crashed unexpectedly from unforeseen threats.

In making this momentous decision, the USFWS underestimated the risks Venus flytraps face from climate change. The large flytrap populations that the USFWS rates as most resilient and crucial for viability grow at low elevations along the coast. Sea level is now rising faster than predicted even a few months ago, increasing risks from saltwater flooding during storm surges (which are also increasing). Prolonged droughts are also becoming more common, threatening the moist habitats flytraps depend on. 

The pace of development has accelerated on the Carolina coastal plain. The U.S. Supreme Court recently ruled in its Sackett decision that isolated wetlands beyond navigable waters are no longer protected from development. This halves the area of wetlands formerly protected. Compounding this threat, the North Carolina Farm Act of 2023 (Senate Bill 532) strips North Carolina wetlands of longstanding safeguards and compensatory mitigation. This further frees developers to drain ephemeral wetlands like those that support flytrap populations on private lands. The USFWS’s decision did not anticipate how these actions would threaten flytrap populations.

The smaller flytrap populations on private lands play important roles by connecting large and small populations that enhance viability and slow inbreeding. They also provide the pathways for flytraps to migrate north and inland as climates change.  

The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service decision not to federally protect the Venus flytrap doesn’t mean this unique species is secure. To ensure that wild Venus flytraps remain part of our Carolina natural heritage, consider what you might do:

• Ask landowners with Venus flytraps on their property to request assistance at Venus Flytrap Champions. This organization recognizes and assists landowners and land managers in the Carolinas who want to ​care for populations of this rare species.
• In North Carolina visit Carolina Beach State Park and The Nature Conservancy’s Green Swamp Preserve and in South Carolina visit Lewis Ocean Bay Preserve to learn about the Venus flytrap.
• Donate funds to support the ongoing habitat protection and restoration efforts (see www.VenusFlytrapChampions.org website).
• Support the North Carolina Plant Conservation Program, which also maintains properties where Venus flytrap grows, via Friends of Plant Conservation.
• Spread concern for the Venus flytrap among your friends, social networks, and the media. Encourage writers or newspaper editors to cover this story in depth.

Extinction is forever. If these populations vanish, we lose a unique branch of life and the world’s most popular plant.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

June 8 is World Oceans Day, a global commemoration to foster ways we can better conserve and manage oceans and all they provide: our beaches and the family memories we create on them; recreational opportunities, such as fishing, sailing, and whale-watching; and our coastal economies, which thrive by supporting those recreational activities and harvesting and selling seafood.

As the co-owner of Locals Seafood, for me it’s a day to think about the ocean’s bounty and the opportunities it provides to my family, allowing us to proudly make our living selling a fresh and local product. While the global goal of this year’s World Oceans Day is to work toward protecting at least 30% of our “blue planet” by 2030, my interest is local, specifically on North Carolina’s seagrasses. Often overlooked and underappreciated, seagrasses are not just a picturesque element of our coastal ecosystems; they serve as a barometer for the overall health of our estuarine systems and the foundation of our entire coastal economy.

The Tar Heel State has about 120,000 acres of seagrass habitats hugging our barrier islands and enriching estuaries along the coast, more than any other state on the Eastern Seaboard. Unfortunately, in North Carolina and beyond, seagrass faces a troubling decline.

Seagrass beds provide food, refuge and nurseries for more than 75% of our marine life, including the shrimp, blue crabs and finfish so important to my business and our coastal economy. These underwater meadows also act as vital carbon sinks, capturing equivalent amounts of carbon to what’s stored by 80,000 acres of forests, and improve water quality by absorbing excess nutrients and reducing sedimentation, ensuring optimal conditions for the growth and survival of marine life. The intricate relationship between seagrass and our most important marine species highlights the importance of protecting and conserving seagrass habitats for the sustainable management of our fisheries, shellfish industry, and overall coastal economy.

But seagrasses are threatened by the same climate change-driven phenomenon they can help us overcome. Our more frequent and severe coastal storms can rip through the beds, causing damage that can take years to regenerate. Seagrass beds rarely are found in more than 6 feet of water because they require sunlight to thrive, but if the water is clouded by sediment or pollutants, they can’t get enough light to grow. Rising water temperatures, which promote the growth of light-distorting algae, and poor water quality threaten seagrasses.

Polluted runoff also poses a significant threat to seagrass habitats. As a seafood dealer driving between the Triangle and the coast, I see firsthand the sources of nonpoint pollution causing nutrient and sediment-laden runoff into our coastal estuaries. Various land uses introduce excessive nutrients into our delicate estuarine ecosystems by carrying fertilizers and sediment into nearby water bodies, where they fuel the growth of harmful algae blooms and smother seagrass beds, ultimately leading to their demise.

The Earth is losing the equivalent of two football fields of seagrasses every hour, and while North Carolina’s seagrass population is faring a bit better, it’s still declining at an estimated 1% to 2% annually.  

“Nowhere are we seeing increases in seagrasses in North Carolina,” said Jud Kenworthy, a retired scientist with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration in Beaufort, and an adjunct professor at the University of North Carolina Wilmington, told Carolina Public Press in 2021. “And one thing is clear: If you don’t have seagrass, you’re going to lose fisheries.”

Seagrass loss is a clear symptom of more significant issues plaguing our coastal regions. These losses act as an alarming warning sign, highlighting the degradation and imbalance within our delicate ecosystems.

Fortunately, there are simple yet impactful actions that make a positive difference. Sustainable alternatives to traditional lawn fertilizers can help significantly improve water quality. Recreational fishers and boaters can play a role by reducing boat wakes and preventing propeller scarring, which can disturb and uproot seagrass. And to make a lasting impact, we must support and strengthen state efforts to protect the clarity of our waters.

Our state has already taken steps to conserve its seagrass beds. In late 2021, the North Carolina Marine Fisheries Commission updated its Coastal Habitat Protection Plan (CHPP), a blueprint to protect and restore seagrasses and other estuarine habitats. It provides specific direction to state commissions and agencies, and identifies ways that towns, organizations, businesses, and even individuals can help protect and restore coastal habitats.

World Oceans Day gives us an opportunity to both appreciate the progress North Carolinians have made and to also assess the work we still must do to keep our communities economically strong and environmentally resilient.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

Last month the Beaufort Citizens Alliance applied to the North Carolina Division of Coastal Management to nominate an “Area of Environmental Concern” (AEC) for a portion of a tributary tidal creek on North River, Gibbs Creek.

Gibbs Creek is the last remaining, mostly undeveloped tidal Creek watershed in the extraterritorial jurisdiction of the town of Beaufort, classified as SA High Quality Waters (HQW) by the N.C. Department of Environmental Quality and open to shellfish harvest.

The AEC nomination process is specified in state statute 15A NCAC 07H .0503, which explicitly permits citizens of North Carolina to nominate an AEC. While this nomination process is not a generally known fact and isn’t advertised by our state environmental agencies, according to the Coastal Area Management Act handbook:

“Areas of Environmental Concern (AECs) are the foundation of the Coastal Resources Commission’s permitting program for coastal development. An AEC is an area of natural importance: it may be easily destroyed by erosion or flooding; or it may have environmental, social, economic or aesthetic values that make it valuable to our state. The Coastal Resources Commission designates areas as AECs to protect them from uncontrolled development, which may cause irreversible damage to property, public health or the environment, thereby diminishing their value to the entire state.”

Of the four categories that CAMA has set up for AECs, our nomination meets the criteria of: 1) The Estuarine and Ocean System and 2) Natural and Cultural Resource areas. The application explains the ecological, social, and cultural reasons why the Gibbs Creek watershed should be protected as much as possible to preserve its status as a Coastal Complex Natural Area AEC (15a NCAC 07H .506) and a Natural and Cultural Resource Area AEC (15A NCAC 07H Section .5000).

The nomination is based on scientific research and firsthand experience documenting the consequences of development in sensitive coastal environments like tidal creeks. There is compelling evidence supporting the need to protect and preserve the biological and physical integrity of tidal creek watersheds with undisturbed buffers that ensure their function as key components of the watershed landscape, the estuarine ecosystem they are an integral part of, the public trust resources that depend on them, and the social, cultural and economic benefits they provide to our communities.

As is the case with all the AECs now in place, our nomination does not prevent the landowner from selling their land, nor does it restrict a purchaser from developing the land in an environmentally responsible manner.

The statute authorizing the nomination process requires Division of Coastal Management staff to conduct a public information meeting to discuss the proposed nomination. At that meeting on May 8, division staff provided the context and background information on the AEC nomination process. The division also provided us with an opportunity to describe our nomination, followed by presentations and comments from some of the invited stakeholders: the three landowners, the town of Beaufort, and a representative of the Coastal Resources Commission.

I doubt that anyone who attended the meeting came away not thinking that this nomination wasn’t controversial. It has been almost 30 years since anyone nominated an AEC, so for many, including DCM, this process is part of the learning curve striving to achieve responsible coastal development.

Since the Gibbs Creek watershed was first proposed for a large-scale planned unit development in July 2020, citizens and other organizations in Beaufort and elsewhere in Carteret County have advocated for responsible coastal development. We’ve conducted public information meetings, engaged with town officials in writing, and orally at municipal meetings. We’ve also met personally with local and regional conservation organizations, as well as the developer, to discuss reasonable measures that would protect the watershed and the creek and not prevent the current landowners from selling their property.

These efforts lead to the withdrawal of the proposed 400-plus-unit project and a subsequent application for approval of the first phase of an 80-unit single family subdivision in the watershed. For the past year, we have closely monitored the CAMA major and stormwater permit applications for the proposed subdivision and, where possible, submitted informed comments to federal and state agencies for their consideration.

As part of this process, we are using all the available opportunities and tools the public has, including the AEC nomination, to engage in promoting responsible development in sensitive coastal environments.

The accusation that we are a “not in my back yard,” anti-development group of concerned citizens is a misrepresentation of the facts. Areas of Environmental Concern are applied to protect ecologically and economically valuable coastal resources across the 20 coastal counties. This is more than just my “backyard”; these sensitive habitats cover hundreds of thousands of acres that millions of North Carolina residents rely on for their social and economic well-being. Local and piecemeal degradation of these vital resources is leading to regional and statewide cumulative impacts with implications beyond my backyard. Informed and wider application of AECs could be used to offset these impacts.

Our state environmental agencies tasked with permitting and monitoring coastal development are underfunded and understaffed — a circumstance that was clearly written into Chapter Six of the North Carolina Coastal Habitat Protection Plan Amendment in 2021 and recently articulated to the Coastal Resources Commission. This leaves a void that a concerned and informed public can partially fill by closely monitoring the environmental permitting and compliance processes and exploring all of the possible tools we have to work with.

That is exactly what we have been doing, and more of us could be doing, to ensure that our valuable and sensitive public trust resources are managed responsibly.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

This scene is all too familiar along North Carolina’s coast: houses and roads underwater, beaches washed away, lives and livelihoods threatened. Massive weather events often leave us feeling helpless, and even hopeless.

From harsh hurricanes to rising sea levels, North Carolinians have experienced firsthand the devastating impacts of climate change. Indeed, the recently published Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change 2023 Report shows dire circumstances and catastrophic effects if drastic action is not taken now to mitigate the climate crisis. An all-of-the-above approach is required, including strategies to both reduce carbon emissions and remove carbon dioxide directly from the atmosphere.

What if there were a nature-based climate restoration solution that may eventually be able to safely capture 1 billion tons or more of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere each year while reducing harmful ocean acidity and helping to protect coastlines?

This is exactly the kind of promising carbon dioxide removal strategy that my lab at the University of North Carolina Wilmington is exploring in collaboration with scientists from Vesta, as well as the Coastal Studies Institute, UNC-Greensboro, and researchers at the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (USACE).

Vesta is a Public Benefit Corporation conducting research into the efficiency and scalability of a climate restoration solution called Coastal Enhanced Weathering: a method that places carbon-removing sand made of the naturally occurring mineral, olivine, into seawater, reducing ocean acidity and removing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Olivine reacts with carbon dioxide in seawater to sequester it as bicarbonate, raising ocean alkalinity and releasing silicate, an important nutrient for near-shore phytoplankton. Olivine is one of the most abundant minerals worldwide with natural deposits occurring across the United States including in North Carolina.

Vesta is currently seeking permits for a 2024 field pilot project to place a small amount of olivine sand 1,500 feet offshore of Duck on the seafloor in 25 feet of water. This sand placement is about 2% of the volume of coastal beach nourishment projects such as the recent 500,000-cubic-yard Shore Protection Project conducted by the Town of Duck earlier this year. As part of the pilot project’s multi-year environmental monitoring program, we are planning to conduct measurements and experiments to study responses of nearshore phytoplankton and zooplankton to this real-world deployment of olivine sand.

I’ve studied important marine microbiota that support the base of ocean food webs both in the lab and in the field for decades. I have also studied their responses to coastal nourishment projects in North Carolina that similarly place sand in coastal zones to counteract erosion. We have found that “standard” beach nourishment projects have no long-term effects on nearshore phytoplankton and zooplankton at the base of the food web.

Moreover, we know that nearshore primary productivity is almost always nutrient-limited, including by the nutrient, silicate, which is necessary for the growth of diatoms, a very important food source for zooplankton and other herbivores in the surf zone. Given the small scale of the potential 2024 field pilot project, particularly relative to typical coastal nourishment projects in the area, and the extensive laboratory research to date, no impacts to marine plankton are expected. Nevertheless, it is critical to test this thinking through rigorous scientific study, as we plan to do.

Vesta teamed up with the Town of Southampton, New York in a pilot study in 2022 to contribute a small amount of olivine sand to the town’s beach renourishment effort, equaling 5% of the total nourishment volume to restore the eroding shoreline. After the first year, preliminary results showed no changes to in-field chlorophyll A concentrations (an indicator of phytoplankton abundance) following the placement of olivine. Additionally, in collaboration with researchers at the University of Southern California, Vesta recently released this preprint for peer review, in which they conducted a laboratory study showing no negative responses of numerous phytoplankton groups upon exposure to extremely high levels of olivine constituents.

This laboratory experiment created an extreme scenario of exposure to olivine dissolution products to represent a large olivine deployment and still observed no negative impacts. Other lab-based research supports the safety of Coastal Enhanced Weathering with olivine (Guo et al. 2022). Collectively, these data are very compelling as to the safety of this climate mitigation method.

The project in North Carolina would further the research and development of this important work in direct alignment with North Carolina’s Climate Goals. In coordination with the Coastal Studies Institute, UNC Greensboro, and scientific researchers at the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) Field Research Facility, we will gain critical, real-world data that will advance the carbon removal industry and in turn, our ability to mitigate against climate change and the worst of its impacts.

The work has big promise. Together, we can find a solution and craft a better future for North Carolinians for generations to come.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

The oceanfront shoreline of Rodanthe has one of the highest erosion rates on the U.S. East Coast (recently upwards of 20 feet per year). Many homes that were initially constructed well back from the beach are now at risk of constant flooding and imminent collapse. A typical response to this erosion in Dare County (and most coastal communities) would be the implementation of a beach nourishment project. It is unclear whether this is practical for Rodanthe, as the geologic setting is problematic.

With such high erosion rates, episodes of renourishment would be frequent, driving up costs significantly. A recently released report entitled: Rodanthe Sand Needs Assessment Dare County, North Carolina (Coastal Science and Engineering, 2023), recommends an initial project at a cost of approximately $40 million. Costs for long-term beach maintenance bring the total to about $120 million over the next 15 years. This assumes that the sand from each nourishment placement will last around five years, which may be a bit of a stretch along this shoreline.

The CSE study indicates there could be modest cost savings from the construction of groins along this shoreline. We did not consider this analysis since groins are not permitted by law on the North Carolina oceanfront due to the inevitable downdrift harm caused by the interruption of longshore sediment transport. Even with beach nourishment, there will be periods of time between sand placement episodes when the beach will narrow, and the most exposed homes will be in the waves.

On the other hand, doing nothing has resulted in numerous high-profile incidents of homes collapsing into the sea, while septic tanks are exhumed and broken open. These events cause both environmental harm and a risk to public safety and health (the intertidal beach in this area is a part of Cape Hatteras National Seashore). Clearly, doing nothing is the worst option.

One alternative solution to nourishment is to implement a buyout plan for highly exposed properties.

Buyouts are rarely a first choice within coastal communities for a variety of reasons, both practical and emotional. Property owners must be interested in selling, and it can be difficult to negotiate a price.

Unlike nourishment, buyouts provide a longer-term solution to erosion, allow for a continuous beach over many years, and eliminate the environmental and public safety hazards associated with collapsing homes. In some areas, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has carried out buyouts in conjunction with beach nourishment to allow for the construction of protective dunes.

To compare the costs of a possible buyout to the costs of beach nourishment in Rodanthe, we at the Western Carolina University Program for the Study of Developed Shorelines conducted a simple analysis to identify and estimate the value of highly exposed oceanfront properties.

The criteria we used identified 80 oceanfront parcels with a structure within 300 feet of the high-tide shoreline, over an alongshore area that is roughly the same footprint as the potential nourishment project. Assessed tax value was used to represent the current value for these properties. Detailed methods for property selection and fiscal analysis are described below.

Results from this analysis estimate that it will cost nearly $43 million to buy out all selected properties (at currently assessed value), and by removing these properties Rodanthe will likely have a viable beach for 15-25 years. Only one of the properties appears to be a primary residence. A number of parcels have lots that are deep enough to move the structure back (outside our buffer), at lower cost than buying the property and removing it.

The loss of tax revenue is a common concern expressed about buyouts. The 80 selected properties generated $171,068 of county property tax revenue in fiscal year 2023, which is only 0.25% of the Dare County tax base. The total lost revenue over 30 years could be $7-$10 million based on the very conservative scenarios outlined in the table below.

For example, we assume all 80 properties will still be around in 30 years. This is unlikely. Some of this loss will likely be offset by the additional tax revenue resulting from the increase in value of the remaining properties (e.g., certain second-row homes become oceanfront).

In this simple analysis the beach nourishment costs are significantly higher (roughly 3 times higher) over the next 15 years than buying the properties at current tax value. Of course, predicting the costs for shoreline protection and/or property acquisition over the next couple of decades is not an exact science.

The ultimate costs depend on factors such as sea-level rise, storms, and market forces for high-risk properties. An advantage of buyouts is that the process could be piecemealed. A buyout plan could happen gradually, targeting the highest exposure properties and willing sellers first (likely the most practical approach). The initial costs would be significantly smaller than beach nourishment, which will require substantial expenditure up front. In addition, buyouts could be initiated immediately, whereas beach nourishment will require substantial planning and permitting.

A more gradual buyout process may cost less than the estimated $43 million, as the market value of properties will likely decrease as erosion begins to threaten homes. While this study does not prioritize the order of acquisition, further analysis could certainly provide the data to do so.

The primary advantage of beach nourishment is that it may preserve the existing oceanfront properties for the next decade or so, along with their tax revenues. In addition, Dare County has experience implementing beach nourishment projects in a professional way. A disadvantage is that there will be multiple episodes of nourishment required over this interval, separated by periods of time when the beach is narrow, and homes are once again highly exposed. Buyouts would allow for a continuous, wide beach for a longer period of time.

We understand that there are obstacles to both buyouts and beach nourishment. This study is not intended to recommend either approach, but provides additional data that could inform the discussion of possible solutions. Looking at this narrowly, from a cost perspective, it is clear that buyouts are not a crazy idea.

A main reason that we conduct an analysis like this is because no one else does. We feel very strongly that, whatever is ultimately decided, projects funded with public funds must examine the costs/benefits of managed retreat through buyouts as one viable option.

This is abundantly clear: the status quo (taking no action) is the least favorable and most environmentally damaging option.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or our publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

“The edge of the sea is a strange and beautiful place.”

― Rachel Carson

Mine is a short journey, but you wouldn’t know it.

Hushed ripples as my paddle slips through the water are the only noise I make, but everyone else is making a racket. A cacophony of mingling bird calls, fish splashing as they wake up and bounce out of the water every which way. Sunrise is feeding time. I watch a big blue heron standing gracefully in the marsh and swiftly scarfing down a fish for breakfast.

The marsh looks like heaven when the rising sun begins to hit it and the colors of the sunrise reflect off the water. The marsh is my portable paradise, I take it with me wherever I go. When I need to get away from reality for a moment, which is happening more and more often now, I close my eyes and imagine my happy place. The sun on my face, the friends I make of the sea creatures, and the salty and sulphury scent I love because it smells like home. But more importantly, I imagine the journey to get there. It is a tranquility like no other.

If everything is going right, I am out of bed 10 or 15 minutes before the sunrise, and the ebbing tide is setting me up for success. I swing open the garage doors from the corner house on Gordon Street and snag my paddle, maybe my life jacket if I’m feeling like a rule follower.

Clad in a sun shirt and Chacos sandals with my bag of snacks that will soon be replaced with shells, I set out on my way — just a short, two-block jaunt down to the Beaufort waterfront where I find my yellow kayak in slot 10. The neighbors all draw sticks at the beginning of the season in hopes that they will receive a coveted kayak slip by the public dock on Front Street. This year, I was one of the lucky ones.

As the sun begins to peek out behind the clouds that cover the horizon, I heft the kayak off its rack and over to the water. Taylor’s Creek is its own paradise. I can’t wait to get out there.

In the span of just five minutes on the water I can wonder at bottlenose dolphins, a multitude of marine invertebrates (my favorites for their alien-like qualities!), and one of the best sunrises I’ve ever seen. And rarely are any other humans around. The minute my kayak hits the water, I am headed less than a quarter mile, directly across the creek. I want to be by the marsh, where the creatures live. Paddling parallel to the shore of the island, Town Marsh, I stick close to the shallows. There is a steep dip from the bank into the middle of the channel where a strong current may be ripping. I stay right on the edge, where I can peer over the side of my vessel to see what sea creatures are awake.

I pass over a sting ray, or maybe a skate. They camouflage so well, the only way they make themselves seen is from their outline, and the quick flap of the wings as they dart away once my paddle makes my presence known. There — right where the water laps onto the sand — what is it? I see two eye stalks and realize it is a blue crab buried in the sand. Sneaky. After paddling a few feet farther, I spot another. This must be a predatory technique. I wish I could stick around to see if any small fish will get caught in their sly claws, but the current is pushing me forward.

A loud scraping sound interrupts me from my trance. My head jerks away from staring at the water to look in front of me. I have mowed right into an oyster bed. Sweet! Now, just a little bit stuck, the perfect opportunity presents itself to check out what, or who, has made a home on this little reef.

These oyster structures are new in the past couple years. Taylor’s Creek is narrow, and at all times of the day, except sunrise, hundreds of boats go by. Their wakes can cause erosion of the marsh and the island.

Dr. Rachel Gittman, a researcher with East Carolina University, Brandon Puckett, former research coordinator with the North Carolina Coastal Reserve, and one of my professors from the University of North Carolina Institute of Marine Sciences, Dr. Niels Lindquist, came together to test living shoreline material intended to mitigate boat-wake impacts on the shoreline by restoring these oyster reefs.

My small kayak won’t produce a problematic wake, so I get up close and benefit from exploring what is living on the structures! First, seaweed is all I see, but then I see one of my favorite marine inverts. A purple spiny sea urchin! I gently peel one off the substrate, having to manually pry its suctioned tube feet off, so I can get a good look at its underside.

These urchins are not so spiky that they will stab me, as long as I hold them carefully and with taut hands. Cupping its spines, I check out my favorite part of this creature’s anatomy, the Aristotle’s lantern. Five opalescent, sharp, teeth-like protrusions face me. They gape out of a small black hole. Gooey, tiny tube feet wiggle around surrounding the moving teeth. Only a couple centimeters wide, the mouth captures my attention. Obviously, this is something special if it has garnered such a whimsical name. The urchin’s intricate shape and formidable appearance could convince me this creature terrifies its prey.

I frighten myself imaging an urchin 100 times its normal size. Luckily, these globular, spiny echinoderms stick with tiny prey, munching on seaweed, scraping algae, or catching plankton drifting by. Opportunistic omnivores … nothing to be afraid of — unless you range on the side of microscopic body sizes.

I paddle on and see a small shark fin rise in front of me. It must be chasing that school of fish I just glided over. The sun is higher in the sky now and it is almost low tide. Depending on the tides, I could make it to my destination by water only. However, I find more joy from beaching my kayak and tramping across the island. I pull up to the sign that introduces visitors, “Welcome to the Rachel Carson Reserve,” and make sure to pull my kayak up farther on land since I will come back to it at a higher tide. I can’t let my ride float away without me! Grabbing my bag, I look back at Beaufort and turn toward the trail that will lead me into a landscape that calms my whole being.

The gratitude I experience for having the opportunity to be here, early on a Sunday morning in the middle of the fall semester, is beyond measure. You can’t have happiness without first knowing how to be grateful. This space I am in allows me to take clear deep breaths. No one is around telling me what to do, there is no one to care for, no work to be done. It is too early for friends or family to even be awake to interrupt my reverie with the vibration of an incoming text. And this is still just the journey! Pure bliss. The destination awaits.

Scampering across a sandy patch, I find my way to what I’ve deemed my secret trail. It is a bit hidden behind some bushes, but once inside it is like Wonderland. There is a small trail lined by dense trees that open to a cleared, trampled circle. Here, I imagine, are where the wild horses of the reserve hang out to cool off or hide from tourists.

There is a mulberry tree here where I have harvested berries, just enough to sustain me, since I am sure they offer sustenance for the horses as well. I maneuver my way through the rest of the short, overgrown trail and come out on a hill. I can see the marsh, and my destination from here, but if I turn just 180 degrees, I see where I came.

There is Front Street, bustling a bit more as churchgoers and dog walkers start their mornings. I can still hear the honks of a car and the music from a passing boat. It is strange to feel like I am on an uninhabited island yet still hear the happenings of life in town. This is peaceful, I am alone, but not lonely. Just how I like it.

Trekking toward the western side of Town Marsh, I am stepping through dune marsh-elder, American beachgrass, pennywort, and mock strawberries. My favorite flower, which I will always associate with home, is the bright orange Indian blanket, resembling a sunflower. These wild plants mark my way to the path I head toward.

Hot and sweaty, I stop for a drink of water at another favorable lookout spot. I have the perfect vista of downtown Beaufort. Sunday morning is in full swing. I see tourists sitting on the porch at Dock House waiting on breakfast, while others are walking along the boardwalk. I continue on, smiling to myself, appreciative for the beautiful day and knowing I’m now sharing this time with others too.

Only 20 minutes after beaching my kayak, and maybe 30 after launching into the water, I have arrived. I stand at the rickety wooden sign that is painted green indicating Bird Shoal is ahead of me. I sigh and smile again. I’ve made it.

Excusing myself to the mud snails I bother as I walk through a bit of marsh at low tide, I continue over the dunes to the water. Here I have an undisturbed view of Beaufort Inlet, Fort Macon, and the sound side of Shackleford Banks. Blue sky and bluer water. This. This is my happy place.

In her book, “The Edge of the Sea,” Carson recounts her time at Bird Shoal when “in calm weather, one is able to wade out from the sand-dune rim over immense areas of the shoal, in water so shallow and so glassy clear that every detail of the bottom lies revealed.” (pg. 99-100) She captures the view so vividly. I’ve explored North Carolina’s coast, far and wide, and at low tide on a sunny day, Bird Shoal has by far, the clearest, bluest water I’ve seen in this coastal state. I crave wading through those waters.

Never being one who can lie on the beach when there is so much to see and do, I set my stuff down, grab my shell bag, and set off along the shoreline. I’ve trained my eyes for a specific treasure when I am here. They are so abundant, and I trust I will find many since I am here at low tide. And just like that, seconds into my walk I see one. It is big, maybe five inches wide, but half of it is hidden in the sand. I bend down to dig underneath it a bit and pull up a fully intact, white sand dollar. First one of the morning!

The tricky part of shelling, or scouring the beach for the perfect shells, is that some of the shells have an owner, a tenant, or may just be alive itself. Honestly, it is frustrating sometimes. The shell that will forever elude me is North Carolina’s state shell, the scotch bonnet. Only once have I found a perfect scotch bonnet, and lo and behold, it housed a hermit crab.

As a marine science student, and an empathetic person with morals, I let the crab and with it that shell, go back to the water. There is often a large, heated debate among shellers about collecting sand dollars. Once, walking back along Gordon Street from a morning trip to Bird Shoal, I passed a neighbor sitting on her porch. She asked if I had any good finds and I held up my bag of sand dollars. In an accusatory tone she questioned, “You didn’t take any live ones now, did ya?” I said, “No, ma’am,” and held up a bleach-white suspect as proof. She didn’t look convinced.

Growing up as a so-called beach girl, spending much of my time on North Carolina’s coast, specifically around Topsail Beach and Beaufort, I sometimes take for granted my knowledge of marine life. I’ve always wanted to be a marine biologist; I just didn’t know that job really existed until a friend told me it was a real thing when I was 9 years old!

Learning about life on the estuaries so young, I sometimes forget that those unfamiliar in marine territories do not share my knowledge base. Appalled describes how I felt when, as a preteen, I was with a visitor who didn’t recognize a live sand dollar versus a dead one. It was an eye-opening experience to understand the importance of marine education.

Sand dollars and sea urchins are in the same phylum, the echinoderms. A similar feature in this phylum is their five-part symmetry, and tube feet, which I mentioned with the sea urchin. Tube feet help urchins move, but they are not extremely noticeable or visible compared to their long, obvious spines. In comparison, sand dollars have tiny spines and tube feet that cover their exoskeleton. When they are alive, they will be a dark color, like green or purple, and feel bristly to the touch. They use the spines and tube feet to move, eat and breathe.

If you find an intact sand dollar that is white and smooth to the touch, you have found a dead, dried-out sand dollar. What you see is its hard exoskeleton, or test, and there should be a flowery star-shaped pattern. Some people believe these creatures look like a flattened version of their cousin, the sea urchin. You can take a white sand dollar home with you, but be careful, because they are delicate and can easily crumble in your hand.

As I continue my walk east along Bird Shoal, I stay wading in the shallows looking for these small white disks that have gotten buried along the bank. “Ah!” I scream to no one as I scuttle out of the water to dry land. A small shark darted past me as I was reaching down for a shell. My affinity for sharks does not replace my respect for what nature could do to an uninvited guest to their home. I do not need to be swimming with sharks this early and while I am alone. I wait for the shark to swim away then continue my hunt. The sand dollars are abundant during low tide this morning! I add my treasures to the bag.

Occasionally I will look or walk up to the windblown dunes and see wild horses gathered in the marsh. During the beginning of the pandemic, another paradise-seeker had revamped one of the “Protect the Wild Horses” signs. It now states boldly “SHOAL OF SOCIAL DISTANCE.” I like that message, but the sign is fading now, as is our concept of social distancing. Maybe I will update it. Despite social distancing not being as prevalent now, Bird Shoal still offers and provides.

Pandemic or not, sometimes I need my own space.

On any one of my trips to Bird Shoal, I typically come back with around 20 to 30 sand dollars, five miles walked, two podcasts listened to, maybe a sunburn, and definitely dehydrated. However, another thirst is quenched. I am refreshed, feel accomplished and have been to my happy place. I can start the day stronger, ready to face whatever comes my way.

I am grateful to have discovered a peaceful place in the middle of a chaotic world, right out my back door. So close, and yet, at times, seems so far. Surrounded by the beauty of wind and water, seashells, sea creatures and sunshine. This place reaffirms my calling to environmental science and marine biology. The N.C. Coastal Reserve and National Estuarine Research Reserve work to preserve places just like this and keep them open to the public. These reserves are magical and can transport me even if I just close my eyes and imagine being there. I recommend visiting at sunrise. Listen for the splash heard as a pelican lands after gliding above. It almost sounds like a whale breaching.

This may sound cliché but a simple hike through Town Marsh and a walk along Bird Shoal puts me one with nature. Rachel Carson said it best, and I hold these words that get me through hard times: “Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.” How wondrous to know I find joy by exploring the same places, walking the same paths the inspiring and influential Rachel Carson did in the 1930s. In this volatile world, which seems to have more downs than ups these days, there is a place, my happy place, where it’s just me, my footprints, and my place on this planet.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

The Cape Fear River is a historic and important body of water in North Carolina, flowing through the communities of Wilmington, Leland, Belville all the way to Southport and beyond. This river is our primary source of drinking water. For centuries, eons for that matter, it has been home to valuable wetlands and floodplains, diverse wildlife, and fish, and more recently a history steeped in our unique heritage and culture. Unfortunately, due to development and population growth, many of these historically important and scarce resources are rapidly being lost or adversely altered forever.

On my occasional trips to and from Wilmington along the U.S. route 74/76/17 causeway to the Cape Fear Memorial Bridge, I have often wondered what the Ghost Tree stands on Eagles Island would say to us about this history they have seen. These trees were once part of a healthy and flourishing 1,700-year-old cedar forest ecosystem that spread throughout the region … but is now dead or dying.  

I wonder what stories could these trees tell us if they could speak? Would they warn us about the loss of our valuable wetlands and floodplains, rapid sea level rise, degraded water quality, and the future impacts of flooding in and around our lowlands? Would they speak on their opposition to the past and future development in our floodplains, the plowing under of our culture and history, or the future damage to our Lower Cape Fear ecosystem?

Somehow I feel that long ago when these trees were healthy they were witness to horrific tragedies of the enslaved West Africans, the Gullah Geechee, who toiled and died in the hot sun to grow Carolina Gold … the rice that helped to make plantation owners wealthy and Wilmington one of the richest seaports along the Atlantic Coast in the 1700s and 1800s. Were these trees witnesses who silently watched those who were enslaved, struggle for their freedom, and be robbed of their right to define their own identity?

For me, these trees serve as an ever-present reminder of our past, as they stand quietly along the banks of our river. They have witnessed hundreds of years of history that have unfolded since long before our area was developed. In our present rush to find economic prosperity, they are also a constant reminder of the dramatic alterations we have caused to our ecosystems. Changes made with the belief that humans could out engineer mother nature.

While it is true that the ghost trees hold a certain enigmatic charm to some of us, it is also true that they are a powerful reminder of the human and environmental cost that the river has borne. They serve as a testament and a bellwether, if you will, not only to the human violence of our past but a forewarning of future natural calamities coming to our shores.

I believe that at the intersection of preserving and protecting our environment and cultural history resides the universal language for all of us to tell our stories; it is the ultimate storyteller on a personal and public level. It truly defines who we are as individuals and as a community. It is the hallowed ground of what defines our society’s fundamental values and can serve as the “tree stump” upon which we can sit and tell this story to our children, grandchildren, and generations beyond.

We should be encouraged by the great and tireless work currently underway by many of our citizens and nonprofits, like the Beatty brothers of Navassa, to preserve, protect and celebrate the history and culture of our area. The stories of the enslaved Gullah Geechee are certainly ones of hardship and tragedy and yet it is the message of their resilience and determination that deserves far more than just a passing reference in our history books.

We have much to celebrate here in our area of eastern North Carolina: the dedicated efforts of the Cape Fear River Watch, the Southern Environmental Law Center and a host of dedicated volunteers who keep watch over our environment; the Coastal Land Trust and others restoring Reaves Chapel in Navassa; the annual Rice Festival in Leland; the Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor Commission; the Cameron Art Museum; and the Eagles Island Nature Park Task Force to name but just a few … each committed to preserving, protecting, and celebrating our collective history and offering great platforms for all of us to get to know the importance of our connection to the Lower Cape Fear River. I hope that future generations see and act upon the message of the ghost trees. We need to listen and heed their warning. 

Finally, let me summarize by sharing a poem that I have been working on for a very long time.

Ghost Trees of the Cape Fear River

As I gaze out o’er the Cape Fear River,
Where ghost trees seem to have eyes.
Enchanted sights from a haunted giver,
Spirits of old come alive.

Hear the whispers through the trees,
Of stories told within their rings.
Silted waters brown meandering,
Within this ancient course it brings.

Rice harvested in the heat of day,
Trees – their stories tell.
Relentless work, no time to play,
Ironic transition from heaven to hell.

Songs of fields, songs from souls,
Fade with twilight, just memories now.
As Cape Fear ghosts roam the shoals,
Like kindred spirits that never bow.

Watered with blood, watered with sweat,
Here is where gold was grown.  
With ancient hands cold and wet,  
Shadows dim of those unknown,

Darken sky, an evening’s chill,
As the veil of dusk descends.
Night brings fear and mystery,
Ghost trees’ presence lends.

Murmured messages of the old,
For all the moons they have seen.
Miseries’ waters that flooded their souls,
Speaks truth to what has been.

Silhouettes take root along the shore,
Revealing this, a solemn sight.
A languorous vision of ghosts before,
Frail branches of the night.

Listen to the whispers of ghost trees,
For they know this story well.
Through the ebb and flow of time,
They stand as the last farewell.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

The following essay is published as a guest commentary.

Two trees rise out of the Albemarle Sound, battered straight by the wind. A black gum and a cypress reach together, sharing the sun, the black water, and the wisps of Spanish moss weighing down their thin branches. They lift up more than out, brittle and slender, not wide or imposing like the ancient magnolia in the church graveyard growing out of nameless bodies. 

These trees are native to the brackish waters of the sound. Generations of them have grown here, but sea level rise brings salty tides to drown their roots, knees and knots. Salt sneaks into their veins and travels up toward their fingers, slowing photosynthesis and transpiration. It suffocates them. In the lab, black gum and cypress are capable of withstanding moderate salt events, but don’t fully recover until the salt is washed off of each leaf.

The lifeblood of the Roanoke River is its sweet, black water. It forms from tannin, a brass-orange chemical that turns the water acidic and dark, antimicrobial and transparent. Tannic acid, also found in wine and tea, can stop bleeding and treat rashes in human bodies. In wetland water, it filters decaying vegetation and decomposing leaves, draining blood from the black gum and the cypress. It’s a chemical, spit up by the ground and only a bit poisonous to the body. It looks a lot like sweet tea.

When English settlers first stumbled up the Roanoke River in 1585, they found a town, which already had a people and a name.

Moratuc.

Land of the dangerous river. 

The Moratuc believed in “montoac,” the plurality of gods and spirits. They drank the dark water that flowed from the fingers of one of many gods. Little of their knowledge remains in documentation, but it is believed that they told the settlers of the spirits living everywhere, in the grasses and the swamp, the heron and the trout, the black gum and the cypress.

I sprawled out on the bow of our university-commissioned boat and surveyed the sky. The black gum and the cypress leaned into each other, their canopies winking out the sun only sometimes. Their broken branches and dying leaves drifting by in the too-salty water beneath us. These trees have stood guard over the mouth of the Roanoke for hundreds of years. They have seen Indigenous canoes, Revolutionary six-masted ships, Civil War submarines, and glossy blue kayaks break into the river from the Albemarle Sound. As glaciers melt and temperatures rise and things lift and sink to where they shouldn’t be, the black gum and the cypress have begun to wither. Some will finally surrender.

I joined a group of University of North Carolina students to visit towns on the river’s edge and at its mercy. Our muse was the Roanoke, which begins in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia and meets the mouth of the Albemarle Sound 410 miles later in Plymouth. The river drains an agricultural coastal plain from the Appalachian Mountains in the west all the way to the Atlantic, bringing with it the blood of millions of dying black gum and cypress, a tide of sweet black tea.

Early Saturday morning, I slipped on my running shoes and passed a group of women in aprons and head coverings with their elbows linked. They smiled at me as I passed. These were the only faces I saw until I returned to the hotel lobby waffle machine. 

The Quality Inn sits at a highway intersection, eager to catch the traffic of passersby because few tend to stay. I ran toward the Piggly Wiggly out back where I thought I might find people. The sun lit up the sleepy storefronts in an orange haze, and the bolted windows reflected it back at me. I passed graffiti-covered brick and rotting roofs with missing shingles. I picked up my pace across the train tracks, warily eyeing the empty train cars and broken glass bottles strewn around the gravel. The main street looked like a sepia newspaper cover – founded in 1779 and since unchanged, flat storefronts with dark green awnings facing half-manicured green trees and broken glass windows. Out front of a decommissioned movie theater, a single red Honda melted to the pavement with a white rag closed into its back window. I surrender.

The namesake of the town of Williamston is debated, but attributed to one of two men – Col. William Williams, a wealthy and distinguished plantation owner prior to the Revolutionary War, or Dick Williams, a settler in the 18th century who arrived with 75 cents in his pocket and built a fortune with hard work and extreme thrift. 

Williamston was originally settled as a hub of Roanoke River transport, and fell into disuse when railroads and highways became more practical than water traffic, the fate of many east coast small towns that have since become overgrown by weeds and hidden beneath fallen trees. Many people have fled the decaying economy and rising flood risk, leaving behind battered family homes, soggy historic land, and a mess of half-forgotten stories. Now, Williamston advertises as one of the top 10 best places in North Carolina to retire.

Come to surrender. 

Our commute for the day led us to the water’s edge in Plymouth. We took out two boats and spent the morning in the ancient current, testing flow rates with lemons and water dispersion with Cheez-Its. Our laughter bounced off the sunny surface into the woods beyond, tangles of cypress and black gum branches criss-crossing over the roof of a tiny blue cabin whose porch seemed to exhale between its stilts, threatening to fall into the waves.

180 million years ago, during the Jurassic Period, North Carolina consisted of a rocky coastline west of modern day I-95. During periods of low sea level, the western and central portions eroded, and North Carolina built up the sediment into land that is known today as the coastal plain. Change has always been hiding beneath the water and the earth. This region was historically flooded by ancient seas, and is still no stranger to high water, though for some reason, we’re surprised each time. 

As we motored upriver, we passed the Domtar manufacturing site. Smoke stacks littered the property, the majority active and spewing something thick and gray into the sky. Domtar, pronounced by a local artist “dum – tar,” is the paper mill that looms over the sweet black current, west of the sound.

The factory has remained the largest employer of the town of Plymouth since 2007, when the company bought out previous owners. In this merger, Domtar announced its new plan to produce fluff pulp alone, a type of soft paper that would result in a one third reduction in the workforce, a loss of around 360 employees. According to Artist and her cousin, the mill no longer makes copy paper because they are lazy. 

Paper pulp production: 

1. Chop down tree
2. Mechanically or chemically separate cellulose fibers from wood
3. Mix with water and other chemical additives 
4. Produce fluff paper
5. Fill diapers

The Domtar paper mill sucks freshwater from the Roanoke and spins trees into diapers, creating sanitary products for the beginning and end of life, and pumping the leftover water into the sky chemically woven with things you do not want to inhale. The rest floats down the sweet black water towards the Atlantic.

The factory advertises longevity and benefits, but there are fewer people to receive them.

“Still, those few left got a job for life,” said Artist, “old ladies are always gonna need Depends.” 

“Babies, too,” laughed Cousin. 

The morning stretched until we arrived at Cypress Cathedral, a new wooden platform built to attract kayakers and their tents to spend a night in the cypress-gum swamp. We stuck a Russian peat corer into the mud beneath the dock and pulled up soil from thousands of years ago, packed down so tightly and so starved of oxygen that spidery, hair-thin plant roots from 0 AD may have inhaled the breath of the paper mill for the first time. 

I reached over and raked my fingers through the peat. Thick, black, organic mud. We could see rings of light red material between black and brown discs. A change in land use? A flood event? An English colonist with two feet tangled in the swamp and no camping platform to rescue her? 

I wonder if her spirit lives in one of the trees. I have no doubt some explorers perished, declared Bland Simpson (Kenan Distinguished Professor of English & Creative Writing at UNC-Chapel Hill).

My body is also made of this.

I tried to absorb the wisdom of the dirt with the methane bubbles that squeeze their way to the surface. 

How do we fix what we have done?

The water moves slowly here, winding between the tangled swampy knees of the cypress and the fallen leaves of the black gum. Back beneath the Cypress Cathedral, the river leaves more than it takes, depositing dirt that is compressed and compressed and compressed until there isn’t enough oxygen to break down the dead plants and the lives they trap. 

Peat forms when plant material does not fully decay. Because carbon dioxide is naturally released during decomposition, peatland plants capture it. It takes thousands of years for peatlands to develop reserves 1.5 to 2.3 meters deep, which would store around 415 gigatonnes of carbon. Globally, peat sequesters up to 42% of soil carbon, which exceeds the amount hiding in the world’s forests. I wondered if we warmed the atmosphere with the bubbles that escaped from our 3-foot slab. 

Later that afternoon, we docked and scattered around town before lunch. I wandered into the only four Main Street buildings open after 2 p.m. on a Saturday. Artist and Cousin showed me around their new shop and recounted the changes they’ve seen over the decades. 

“The town relies on the factory. The factory relies on the river. We do too, but there is some nasty shit in there.”

The Parisian woman in her ice cream shop across the street cited the Black Bear Festival in June and her bistro’s escargot dish as her motivations for moving from the global fashion capital to a town with 4,000 people. 

“The town is on the up and up,” She smiled like she knew something we didn’t, “We have the largest black bear population in the world!”

Bewildered, I asked many, many clarifying questions. 

“We have the BIGGEST population,” she said, “Like, the bears are quite large. They eat very much.”

I wandered into the street hoping to see the twin cubs they all swore were playing in the parking lot just that morning. The eco-tourism in the area seems promising – the biggest black bears, treehouses for rent and camping platforms with a view of “North Carolina’s Amazon.” Plymouth, and other towns like it, spent the first dawn of their success shuttling shipping containers up river and tearing apart tree fibers to fill diapers. Those that are left look forward, investing in their next sunrise by emphasizing the wonder of the remaining natural wonders – the black bears and the blacker water. 

At Grace Episcopal Church down the street, the Minister gave us a tour and told us stories of the town during the Civil War. Due to its position controlling the Albemarle Sound and the upper Roanoke River, Plymouth was the access point for goods shipped to Richmond, Virginia, the capital of the Confederacy at the time. The Union Army fought hard for a blockade, forcing the town to surrender. During the war, Plymouth was burned twice, once by each side. During the Battle of Plymouth, the church was used as a hospital.

I could almost picture the chaotic triage inside the walls. 

Tell us what you know, I urged the fading wood panels. 

Legend has it, the holy building even gave up its pews to build coffins for the fallen.

After the battle destroyed all the other holy sites in the town, Grace Episcopal became the sole place of worship, and people of all beliefs flocked. I wonder if they could smell blood over the scent of the sweet black water. 

As I wandered between stained glass windows and tried to keep my muddy river shoes off the plush red carpet, I saw a marble slab with two handles wedged into the floor. I asked Minister, and he promptly lifted the stone to show us its contents. 

Stale air burst from the cavern, revealing dozens of green and red canisters, blue tin cans and silver metal boxes, even a red Prince Albert pipe tobacco jar. 

“Ashes,” he told us, passing a gold container around our circle of uneasy smiles and trembling fingers. 

“So they are just…in there?”  someone asked.

He chuckled at our fear and unscrewed the cap, tugging out one corner of a dusty plastic bag. 

“The identification is either in the bag tag or on the bottom. I don’t see…” he turned the container, spilling some human into the floor. “I don’t see a name on this one.”

My body is also made of this.

I tried to absorb the knowledge of an anonymous life as it mixed with the dusty church air. 

Minister told us that Plymouth is home to four Superfund sites, two of which are still active. Four areas so full of waste that the United States government deemed them hazardous enough to mandate legal postings on homeowners’ informational websites. We used factory chemicals on this land, and now they grow into the grass there, mixing with the Algonquian spirits in the sweet black water and seeping into the drinking reserves. 

We poison the land until we can’t live here anymore, and nothing else can either. 

Outside in the church yard, a few dozen headstones leaned, surrendering to the rich black soil. 

“There are more bodies here than anyone can know”, said Minister, passing under a large magnolia. I imagined its roots spreading deep, cracking into the old church pews buried beneath their younger sisters and feeding on the fallen. I wonder if the trees know which bodies poisoned the sweet black water. 

I took a detour up a trail away from a beautifully manicured green field that I thought was a golf course before I realized it was a public parking lot. Nothing is built there, maybe due to seasonal flooding or historical parking shortages in the town’s prime. I watched the ground closely to distinguish snakes from sticks and almost tripped over the edge of a platform, a pier built out to the river’s edge. 

As glaciers melt and temperatures rise and things lift or sink to where they shouldn’t be, the black gum and the cypress dropped their leaves into my hands. We unbury the bubbles in the peat just to fill the holes with chemicals and bodies and are surprised that the bubbles are angry at what they find at the surface. They warm the air, the ice melts, the water rises, flooding homes with waste and turning rivers from lifelines to monsters. 

Moratuc. Dangerous River. We are driving ourselves out.

The change is seeping in from the Atlantic, sea salt invading drinking wells and paper pulp factories, clogging machines and tree arteries. It mixes and spreads with the factory chemicals we’ve buried in the peat and the red-black tannins that the river gives to heal us. Rising water licks the doorsteps of tiny blue river houses on stilts and steals boats from docks with missing planks. 

Many of the people are gone. They have surrendered, fled from the Superfund sites and the old movie theaters; they’ve been swept out to sea, sequestered in the peat with the rest of our carbon, or stuffed into a Prince Albert can below the church floorboards. Those that remain, though, can hear the cogs slow in the paper mill and look elsewhere to find life. They have begun to listen to the spirits in the grasses. The knowledge is here, how to live with this land. It is buried in the peat along the banks of a sweet black dangerous river.

 The trees are dying, but they will grow back, perhaps upriver where the salt can’t reach. The people will eventually be gone from this land. It will be soon, if we continue to lay the land to waste. If we want to last a bit longer, alongside the black bears and the Great Blue Heron, we can seek out a dusty car melted to Main Street, pull a white rag from the back window, and begin to wash the salt off the leaves of the black gum and cypress until they are healed, one by one. 

References

1. https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/medicine-and-dentistry/tannin#:~:text=Tannic%20acid%20is%20moderately%20toxic,abdominal%20pain%2C%20and%20liver%20damage.
2.  https://www.nps.gov/articles/carolinaalgonquian.htm
3.  https://www.nature.org/en-us/get-involved/how-to-help/places-we-protect/roanoke-river-region
4.  http://www.townofwilliamston.com/visitors/about_williamston/index.php
5. https://www.witn.com/2021/09/17/study-williamston-ranks-among-top-10-best-places-state-retire/#:~:text=MARTIN%20COUNTY%2C%20N.C.%20(WITN),10%2C%20coming%20at%20number%207.
6. https://www.domtar.com/en/what-we-make/pulp/papergrade-pulp#:~:text=Domtar’s%20northern%20softwood%20grades%20include,white%20spruce%20and%20Douglas%20fir.
7.  https://worldpopulationreview.com/us-cities/plymouth-nc-population
8. https://peatlands.org/peat/peat/#:~:text=Peat%20is%20the%20surface%20organic,high%20acidity%20and%20nutrient%20deficiency.
9. https://emergingcivilwar.com/2014/08/28/the-very-essence-of-nightmare-the-battle-of-plymouth-nc-and-the-destruction-of-the-css-albemarle/
10.  https://graceplymouth.ecdio.org/

Marine geologist Dr. Stan Riggs was recently among six chosen to receive the North Carolina Award, the state’s highest civilian honor. Gov. Roy Cooper presented the awards Nov. 15 during a ceremony at the North Carolina Museum of Art. Dr. Riggs told Coastal Review that the award truly recognizes all the groups, scientists and others who have worked over the last half century to understand, protect and manage the state’s dynamic natural coastal resources. He has provided his award acceptance speech, which follows, as a guest commentary.

— The editor.

North Carolina’s Land of Water represents our past, present, and future. It is a world-class mixing basin and transition zone where upland river valleys and coastal plain peninsulas meet the ocean. It is a high-energy intersection of land, water, and air where sunny day calms quickly shift to high-energy stages of dynamic change.

In our unending rush to conquer the ocean’s barrier islands we tend to overlook the inner coastal world of estuaries, wetlands, and lowlands that require one to slow down and become acquainted with the more introspective and contemplative components of our natural coastal system. This land of water with its vast natural resources and extreme dynamics has dictated the cultural history of our great state of NC; this is the unwritten chapter in most of our history books!

There will always be a shoreline and coastal system wherever an ocean intersects a land mass; it just won’t be in the same place as they move in response to changing climatic and geologic conditions! Unfortunately, historical economic development practices in our coastal system have largely ignored the dynamics of natural change. Centuries of ditching, draining, and clearing wetlands and the more recent development of urban cities on mobile barrier sand piles have created unintended consequences resulting in massive economic losses by ongoing climate change. Within this watery world there are certain limits to growth and development where water is both a critical resource and a harsh dictator!

Related: Stan Riggs to receive 2022 North Carolina Award

The earth’s dynamics have challenged the engineering prowess of many great minds over the past four centuries. Now in the 21^st century with rising sea level and exploding coastal populations, North Carolina finds itself in the throes of a perfect conflict — an escalating battle between natural storm dynamics that drive coastal change and the economic drive to stabilize and develop the land and water resources. This is an untenable path that is severely wounding the golden goose of profits and morphing it into the gray goose of silence. When living within this dynamic intersection of land, water, and air, where change is a critical constant, society must adopt a more humble approach and learn to live with the changing system dynamics!

I have dedicated my entire 58-year career to understanding the complexities, processes, and evolutionary history of our Earth’s resource systems and translating that knowledge to the citizens and leadership of our great State of the Longleaf Pine. I did not earn this award alone; I always worked with great teams of students, colleagues, and public who care about living gently with the dynamics of change in our rivers, estuaries, barrier islands, and vast coastal ocean. This coastal world of land and sea is our only home; its natural resources and dynamics drove our cultural history and will dictate our future.

Finally, I am totally honored and humbled by this lifetime award for supporting an incredibly stimulating and educational career’s worth of work. Thanks to my precious and always supportive family, East Carolina University for providing exciting opportunities and challenges, the many amazing cohorts and team members, the support and partnerships with numerous state and federal agencies and nonprofit organizations, and to our dedicated state leaders and educators.

Thank you for this honor.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

From Lea-Hutaff Island to the south end of Wrightsville Beach, birds are returning to nest at our inlets and beaches. Brown pelicans are already patrolling the waves and marshes to feed their young. Black skimmers and least terns are raising chicks right on the sand, to the delight of beachgoers and vacationers. 

Birds have safe places to rear their young on our coast thanks to years of teamwork by conservation organizations, volunteers, state agencies, and local governments. A new bipartisan bill in Congress offers an opportunity to build on this work by protecting our beach towns and important coastal habitats at the same time. 

The Shoreline Health Oversight, Restoration, Resilience, and Enhancement Act, or SHORRE Act — which is backed by Republicans and Democrats in the House and Senate — would preserve coastal habitat while providing affordable, alternative sand sources used for beach nourishment projects. Under the bill, local governments would be able to seek federal support for any added costs of dredging and sourcing sand outside of sensitive coastal areas. It’s a win-win: Communities get sand for beach renourishment projects while protecting the habitats that birds and people depend on.  

For decades, pristine beaches, marshes, and inlets up and down North Carolina’s coast have been protected from development by the Coastal Barrier Resources Act (CBRA). Signed into law by President Ronald Reagan in 1982, the program prohibits development and federal infrastructure spending in certain designated areas. 

The result has been a generation of conservation that continues to make our coast a top-tier destination, from world-class fishing to open stretches of untouched beach to the abundant wildlife we all enjoy. The new bill would build on CBRA to support beach towns and ensure habitats are conserved.  

That means enduring protections for the places that serve as nurseries for marine life, including important commercial and recreational fish species. In North Carolina, the commercial saltwater fishing industry brings in $78 million per year. 

It also means enduring protections for rare bird habitat, from undeveloped stretches of open sand home to vulnerable beach-nesting birds like least terns, to inlets that provide safe places for plovers, skimmers, and oystercatchers to raise their young. Sand mining in inlets and other nearshore areas can harm habitats that are vital to shorebirds and waterbirds, with damage to the food chain persisting for months to several years. 

Undeveloped inlets, islands, beaches and wetlands in the CBRA program also help protect upland communities from storms and erosion. A 2021 federal report found that sand mining in inlets, like those protected by the CBRA system, can harm downdrift communities, increasing their erosion and exposing them to greater storm hazards. 

Closer to home, this compromise bill will help ensure CBRA areas like Masonboro Island remain a beloved destination for families and wildlife for years to come. 

The SHORRE Act is a strong example of how we can continue the work of protecting the environment and supporting coastal communities at the same time. Audubon North Carolina supports the balance that it presents, and urges North Carolina’s Congressional delegation to vote in favor of it. 

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

This is the third and final piece in a commentary series by the nonprofit Environmental Defense Fund.

When North Carolina’s recent greenhouse gas inventory was updated earlier this year, it surprised few to see the electric power and transportation sectors account for the vast majority of the state’s climate emissions. And while there have been improvements in fuel-economy and greater adoption of clean energy over the years, a recent report by EDF found that the state is not on track to meet its climate pollution goals without new policies to meet its targets. Gov. Roy Cooper set important goals for the state to slash climate-warming pollution in half by 2030, so it makes sense that the state should first tackle its biggest offenders. Thankfully, there are readily available solutions for the transportation and power sectors that North Carolina can take advantage of to meet its climate goals, bolster the economy, and reduce harmful air pollution.  

When it comes to tackling transportation emissions, new analysis from RTI International, a North Carolina-based nonprofit research institute, shows that adopting clean transportation policies for medium- and heavy-duty (MHD) vehicles can make a big difference toward reaching the state’s climate goals while also offering significant health benefits, and providing billions of dollars of net-benefits to our state’s economy by 2050. Because MHD trucks and buses produce disproportionately more pollution than passenger cars, electrifying this class of vehicles will have an outsized impact on cutting pollution. RTI’s researchers concluded that the implementation of two policies — Advanced Clean Trucks (ACTs) and Heavy-Duty Omnibus (HDO) — could provide total net benefits between $25 billion and $53 billion for North Carolina’s economy by 2050. Improved air quality resulting from these policies provide even greater benefits, amounting to nearly $110 billion in cumulative public health savings for North Carolinians over the same time period. 

Under the Advanced Clean Trucks (ACT) rule, North Carolina would increase the percentage of new zero-emissions trucks purchased in North Carolina each year, beginning with the 2026 model year through 2035. Under the Heavy-Duty Omnibus (HDO) rule, the state would establish declining exhaust emissions standards for heavy-duty vehicles, requiring an additional 75% reduction in emissions starting with model year 2026, and then a 90% reduction beginning in model year 2027. Implementing both of these policies would cut North Carolina’s transportation pollution by nearly half by 2050, which is the equivalent of avoiding the use of roughly 16 billion gallons of diesel fuel or taking 35 million passenger vehicles off the road for a year. 

Cleaning up the power-sector is the linchpin to a clean economy because it unlocks deeper reductions in other sectors that rely on electricity, such as buildings and electric vehicles. Successfully achieving power-sector climate goals is essential to achieving the state’s economy-wide goals. The new North Carolina energy law enacted last fall, HB951, calls on the North Carolina Utilities Commission to develop a Carbon Plan to reduce power-sector pollution. The Commission will need to implement a strong Carbon Plan that puts the power-sector on a firm path to consistently drive down climate pollution, expand the use of clean energy, and meet the 2030 target without delay. 

A program like the Regional Greenhouse Gas Initiative (RGGI) could also play a key role in driving progress toward North Carolina’s power-sector climate goals, and is currently under consideration by the state’s environmental regulators. RGGI has enabled 11 other eastern states to lower climate pollution from power plants, successfully cutting emissions in half over the past decade. A report published last year by researchers at Duke and UNC found that joining RGGI was the most cost-effective pathway to reducing power-sector pollution, and that when implemented alongside other climate and clean energy policies, RGGI had the effect of improving the overall affordability of those policies. Based on that analysis, it’s reasonable to conclude that the RGGI program would be a meaningful complement to the H951 Carbon Plan, improving both its effectiveness in delivering carbon pollution reductions and doing so at lower cost to ratepayers.

Governor Cooper has laid the groundwork for North Carolina to be a national leader on climate with the pollution reduction goals established by Executive Order 80, and Executive Order 246. With just eight years remaining to meet the critical 2030 milestone, future North Carolinians will recognize this time as a defining moment in the fight against climate change. And though not currently on track to meet its climate commitments, policy tools are available to deliver on these critical pollution reduction goals and secure a cleaner, healthier and more prosperous future for North Carolina. With solutions like those laid out in RTI’s analysis to tackle the most polluting vehicles on the road, and with pivotal power-sector policies under development, North Carolina can make meaningful progress toward improving the quality of life and the health of our communities in the near term and for future generations of North Carolinians. 

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation. Submissions may be edited for clarity.

Guest commentary

This is the second in a commentary series by the nonprofit Environmental Defense Fund.

The most recent International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) report made clear that we are running out of time to stymie the worst impacts of climate change. The report demonstrates that harmful climate impacts — such as worsening storms, extreme heat, and rising sea levels that threaten North Carolina’s iconic coast, to name a few — will worsen faster than we have time to adapt. But there is still hope — a small window of time left to rapidly reduce greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions and invest in resilience to avoid the worst impacts of our warming climate.

Thankfully, North Carolina has committed to do its part in combating climate change by reducing climate warming pollution, but a new report from Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) shows a substantial gap between the state’s pledges and policy results. Gov. Roy Cooper will need to take decisive action, or North Carolina risks falling short of reaching its own climate goals. 

Gov. Cooper has taken steps to signal North Carolina’s leadership on climate policy by joining the U.S. Climate Alliance and issuing Executive Order 80 in 2018 and Executive Order 246 in 2022. These orders established important climate targets for the state — committing to reduce emissions across the economy by 40% by 2025 and achieve at least 50% reduction by 2030, respectively. Gov. Cooper’s orders also set targets for zero-emission vehicle sales, and called on the N.C. Department of Environmental Quality to develop a Clean Energy Plan (CEP), which recommended that the state reduce carbon pollution from the electric power sector 70% from 2005 levels by 2030 and achieve net-zero emissions by 2050. In late 2021, these power-sector targets were codified in House Bill 951, which requires the North Carolina Utilities Commission (NCUC) to take all reasonable steps to reduce power sector carbon pollution in line with the CEP recommendations. A process to chart the pathway to achieving that goal is currently underway, and will be adopted at the end of this year.

North Carolina has kicked off a series of important pledges and plans, but the true test of climate leadership is found not in plans and pledges, but in delivering results. Success requires moving from setting targets to deploying policies that drive down pollution. EDF’s new analysis shows that with current policies in place, North Carolina will not reduce emissions at the pace and scale necessary to meet EO 80’s 2025 or EO 246’s 2030 goals. In fact, after 2025, climate pollution levels are projected to remain flat or potentially rise in the long-term. With the policies in place as of May 2021, North Carolina is projected to reduce emissions 27% from 2005 levels by 2025, short of EO 80’s 40% reduction target. Depending on future costs and economic trends, emissions will stay at that level, or potentially increase, bumping the state back to just 16% emissions reductions from 2005 levels by 2030, and leaving a sizable gap to reaching the state’s climate goals. Even if North Carolina achieves the power sector carbon reduction targets set by HB 951 without delays, the state could only achieve a 28% to 38% reduction across the economy by 2030, still well short of EO 246’s 2030 target of cutting emissions in half.

The North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality’s (DEQ) own projections for 2030 shows a comparable gap between projected climate pollution levels and the state’s targets. These two analyses demonstrate that even while there is some uncertainty in future emissions trajectories, it is evident the state is not on track to achieve its targets. 

Coupled with the recent warnings from the IPCC, these reports underscore the urgent need for swift policy action to close the emissions gap. Because greenhouse gas emissions remain in the atmosphere and continue to warm the planet for decades after they are emitted, early cuts in pollution will be essential to averting the most harmful climate impacts. 

To build upon the foundation of the state’s climate goals, Gov. Cooper should swiftly implement policies that curb emissions in line with his Executive Orders. Since clean electricity is key to cleaning up other sectors, like transportation and buildings, implementing a strong Carbon Plan and complementary policies that consistently drive out fossil fuels and expand clean energy will be a “make or break” factor in achieving both power-sector and economy-wide goals. And while EO 246 takes an important step in setting a goal to reach over 1.2 million registered zero-emission vehicles by 2030, North Carolina will need to act on policy solutions that can achieve those targets while simultaneously driving down pollution from existing fleets. Another plan coming out of EO 246, the “Deep Decarbonization Pathways Analysis,” due in January 2023, will also be important for identifying pathways to decarbonize sectors across the economy. Once this new information is made available, the Cooper administration should swiftly turn this plan into concrete action. 

Gov. Cooper has the opportunity over the next three years to use all the tools available to him to place the state firmly on the path to reduce climate pollution by at least 50% by 2030. Doing so would cement the state as a critical leader on climate action in the U.S. and globally; and, more importantly, would result in a cleaner, more climate-safe future for North Carolinians to live, work and play in for generations to come. 

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation. Submissions may be edited for clarity.

Guest commentary

This is the first in a commentary series by the nonprofit Environmental Defense Fund.

North Carolina’s coastal communities have a front-row seat to many of the most visible signs of climate change. As sea level rise threatens our coastal communities, and as storms and flooding become more frequent and intense across the state, it’s clear climate change isn’t something that’s coming — it’s something that’s already here.

When North Carolina Gov. Roy Cooper signed Executive Order 246 (EO246) on Jan. 7, he sent an important signal that North Carolina is sharpening its focus on addressing climate change and creating a more equitable future. The directives of EO246 align the state’s climate ambitions with what the international scientific consensus tells us is necessary to avoid the worst impacts of climate change, and seeks to better address environmental inequities that have long plagued the state, many of which are exacerbated by climate change.

While these goals are a critical first step for North Carolina to do its part to address the causes and effects of climate change, achieving these targets requires swift, tangible action to secure a healthier and more equitable future for North Carolinians.

Executive Order 246 is not the governor’s first venture into the climate space. Executive Order 80 (EO80), signed in October 2018, was Gov. Cooper’s first order committing the state to important climate pollution goals: reducing greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions 40% from 2005 levels by 2025.

Over three years later, EO246 builds upon the goals of EO80 by committing the state to reducing GHG emissions at least 50% from 2005 levels by 2030, and reaching net-zero GHG emissions as soon as possible, no later than 2050. The most recent order also adds complementary goals of getting 1.25 million zero-emissions vehicles (ZEVs) on the road by 2030, and for 50% of new vehicle sales to be ZEVs by the same year.

Raising the state’s ambition to tackle climate pollution economy-wide, EO246 sets the stage for action to complement the ongoing work to reduce pollution from the state’s electric power sector with the added focus on transportation. This expanded focus makes perfect sense, as the state’s recent GHG inventory affirms that electric power and transportation remain North Carolina’s top two sources of GHGs, together accounting for nearly 70% of the state’s total emissions. The GHG inventory demonstrates that there is much work to do to reduce the state’s current emissions levels in line with the goals for the new executive order. New policies and programs will need to be implemented quickly to accelerate pollution reductions and put the state firmly on a trajectory to reach these important goals. 

In addition to expanding upon emissions goals, EO246 aims to better incorporate environmental justice (EJ) and equity into the administration’s processes and decisions, striving to address disparate environmental and public health impacts among historically marginalized communities. Conversations regarding equity and climate are too often siloed, when in reality these issues deeply intersect, as communities of color, low-income and indigenous communities bear a disproportionate burden of pollution and are often on the frontlines of increasingly harmful climate impacts. EO246 provides a structure to consider these issues in tandem by directing cabinet agencies to consider environmental justice and equity in decision making related to climate change, resilience, and clean energy. 

To operationalize this goal, each agency is directed to designate an “EJ Lead” to spearhead these efforts, and to develop annual public participation plans, laying out how the agency will solicit and incorporate public input, particularly from frontline communities, into agency decisions. Agencies are also instructed to prioritize distribution of state and federal funds to invest in historically underserved communities and to advance health and economic equity. EO246 directs the convening of a third-party facilitated dialogue among state agencies and community leaders to ensure a trusted and holistic dialogue in order to identify opportunities to address the disproportionately harmful outcomes faced by impacted communities.

All of these proposals are an important step toward addressing environmental and public health challenges that will be exacerbated by the increasingly acute impacts of climate change. While these processes are important, the ultimate measure of success for EO246’s equity provisions will be the institutionalization of new behaviors, processes, and funding priorities to benefit impacted communities across all agencies – changing the way our state does business.  

Gov. Cooper has laid the foundation to leave a lasting impact on North Carolina communities through the goals and directives of EO80 and EO246. Now it’s time to make sure North Carolina gets there by listening to the most impacted communities, tracking progress and acknowledging shortcomings, and implementing new solutions to close the gap between where we are and where we are going.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation. Submissions may be edited for clarity.

Editor’s Note: Coastal Review asked Karen Willis Amspacher, executive director of Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center on Harkers Island, to share how the tight-knit Down East Carteret County communities are coping with the deadly plane crash Sunday. Of the eight lives lost on the private plane that was returning from a duck hunting trip in Hyde County, six were Carteret County residents and two were from Pitt County.

A few days ago, no one could have ever imagined what the people of Down East would be facing. Life was slowly moving closer to “normal” as the pandemic (at least) seemed to be fading, winter was giving way to a few hints of spring and the fishermen were working on their nets, pots and boats. All was calm Sunday morning.

And then it happened, the unimaginable.

Phones and social media went wild with calls for prayer, questions of who was on the plane and what happened, where and when, all laced with a painful mixture of fear, dread, and disbelief. As the names emerged, the story unfolded and one of the most horrific moments in Down East history began to emerge.

We are now going into our fourth day of this nightmare and the reality is worse than anyone could grasp in the beginning. Each day has brought deeper heartaches as the facts have become known. Mothers, fathers, grandparents, brothers and sisters, families and neighborhoods have waited hour by hour for news from the offshore search.

For Down East, the world stopped …

Shrimper and East Carteret High School teacher Zack Davis, of Marshallberg, says it is “instinctive” for Down East people to “carry its loved ones” through times like these. He tells how we come from a long line of tragedies, from shipwrecks to hurricanes, lost loved ones and difficult times, and he is right. Since Sunday we have relived the Storm of ’33, boats sinking, men and women lost to lasting tragedies that remain etched in our collective minds and hearts. This is not our first disaster and the people Down East don’t forget.

We cannot forget. Down East people are so intertwined with one another there is no way to move too far beyond the people we have loved. We are all “kin” in ways that we cannot explain and we don’t even understand, and we don’t even try to figure it out, we just know. Our mothers and fathers were connected, and their mothers and fathers ahead of them. Generations of overlap and shared bonds define who we are, the way we hold onto each other and this place that binds us, Core Sound and the people we love.

For the communities of Atlantic, Sea Level and Cedar Island, these are their children, the boys they taught in Sunday School and took shrimping in the summer. Their families, generations deep, are grounded in their harbors, just like each community is with their own — this way of life, this place that has shaped us through the traditions that we share across the creeks and marshes of eastern Carteret County.

For Down East, one community’s burden is every community’s shared heartache. These children, and their families, are part of us too. From generation to generation we have worked together, played ball together, fished together, shrimped together, marched in the band together, raised our children together, and for many of us, we have grown old together.

It’s been said that Down East is “at its best when things are at their worst” and that is true, but this burden, this tragedy has been of such magnitude we could not have ever faced it alone. This cruel agony runs too deep in all of us.

We are amazed, overwhelmed and humbled by the outpouring from the entire county and beyond. Ribbons and school colors, pop-up fundraisers, everyone trying to do “something” to help ease the burden, show their love, and meet the needs such a tragedy creates. This has been at the scale Down East has never seen before. This too was unimaginable before Sunday.

From across the state and country, people have heard of this disaster and are offering their prayers and reminders that people really do care. In these dark days for Down East, they want to be part of the extended community that will see these families and their friends through these unknown places, and we welcome their hearts into ours. We know that we will hold strong together with the help of all who share the burden of this tremendous loss for our community.

A Down East mother who lost her child to another tragic moment once told me, “the healing is in the giving” as she and her family faced a new world beyond the pain of losing their son, their shining star and all their dreams. I have thought of those words often over the years and especially during the past four days. It IS how we heal, how we move on, how we face the future without the people we love, and in this case, these young men, who like the others we have lost too soon.

Down East has had more than its share of losses. Maybe it feels this way because we know each other too well, we are too connected, we are too engrained in each other’s lives. Maybe that’s the price we pay for being who – and whose – we are, with deep roots that have connected us, even before we were born.  Maybe …   

And if so, that is our strength and our blessing as we stand together, safe in that inheritance of love and reassurance.

***

The Core Sound Museum, with the approval of all the Down East families involved with Sunday’s plane crash, has established a Core Sound Family Fund for the victims of this tragic accident. 

This financial support will go to help meet expenses and other family needs associated with this disaster. Funds received will be held in a special agency account and disbursed as needed to each family.

Contributors will receive an authorized receipt for their nondeductible donations.  Immediate family members will receive a full accounting of monies received and disbursements made.

The museum will continue to respectfully help the people of Down East Carteret County in the weeks and months ahead. We are thankful for the outpouring of support locally and from across the region. 

Contributions can be made online or by mail to CSWM, Family Fund, P.O. Box 556, Harkers Island, NC  28531.

Guest commentary

It may sound too good to be true that one, palm-sized organism could filter water, provide habitat, secure the coastline, and be a delicious, nutritious powerhouse on the plate. But it’s not a gimmick — the oyster does it all.

In North Carolina, a consortium of government, university, business and nonprofit stakeholders are working to restore historically depleted oyster populations in tandem with designing resilient wetlands, building a thriving industry, and preserving an icon of coastal heritage. North Carolina leads the way nationally in its collaborative, multifaceted approach to protecting, restoring, harvesting, and educating people about oysters.

In support of this superhero species, North Carolina Forever is working to spark awareness about oysters and the people behind the nimble and broad effort to bolster them as a catalyst for a resilient future, where people and ecosystems thrive. North Carolina Forever is a bipartisan coalition of North Carolinians — from businesses, agricultural, conservation and environmental organizations — aiming to influence legislation and secure the funding necessary to keep a promise held by the state constitution: “to conserve and protect its lands and waters for the benefit of all its citizenry.”

On Dec. 14, 2021, NC Forever hosted an educational webinar exploring the kaleidoscopic benefits of oysters to our state. This panel discussion entitled, “Oysters! Good for the economy. Great for the environment. Even better for dinner!” was the final installment of a five-webinar series sponsored by State Employees Credit Union and aimed at engaging stakeholders around vital issues facing North Carolina’s lands and waters.

Convened for this aquaculture deep dive were: Erin Fleckenstein of the North Carolina Coastal Federation, Jason Peters of the N.C. Division for Marine Fisheries, Tom
Looney of the Coastal Federation’s Coastal Executive Leadership Council, Rep. Bobby Hanig, R-Currituck, and Sen. Norman Sanderson, R-Pamlico. The webinar was moderated by Coastal Federation Executive Director Todd Miller, who is also a board member with NC Forever.

A coastal scientist with the federation who’s based in Wanchese, Fleckenstein kicked off
the conversation with a review of the comprehensive roadmap driving statewide strategy and action around oyster resiliency: the North Carolina Oyster Blueprint. Fleckenstein introduced the fourth edition of the Blueprint, which sets goals for the next five years, focusing on the four strategies of protecting, restoring, harvesting, and educating about oysters. She highlighted key actions within each strategy, including oyster sanctuaries, living shorelines, oyster shell recycling, cultch planting, and expanded outreach.

Fleckenstein noted that the Blueprint “is one of the only efforts in the country that outlines goals and actions to balance oyster habitat, water quality protection, oyster harvest, and oyster farming.”

Reviewing additional aspects of the Blueprint was Jason Peters, who oversees
shellfish restoration programs for the Division of Marine Fisheries. Peters’ enthusiasm for oysters and his work was clear; he admitted that his fiancé continually reminds him to cut the oyster talk after 5 p.m. He stressed that oysters offer us “so many services
other than just food value,” from environmental to economic. Peters shared recent developments in the oyster sanctuary and cultch planting programs, which he oversees and are further outlined within the Blueprint.

Currently there are around 400 acres protected through the oyster sanctuary program, which creates small, sheltered areas to foster high density oyster populations, spawning larvae and supporting wild species beyond their borders. These sanctuaries also support fish populations and filter vast amounts of water.

In 2020, the General Assembly approved $1.35 million in funding for the Sen. Jean Preston Oyster Sanctuary Network, which currently consists of 15 sanctuaries throughout the Pamlico Sound. The Blueprint sets a goal to build an additional 100 acres of sanctuary in Pamlico Sound by 2025.

The cultch planting program complements the work of these sanctuaries, restoring wild oyster habitat by establishing new reef sites using hard substrates like shell and limestone marl, which are deposited in strategic areas by barges. Peters is excited about the division’s recently received funding for the purchase of a new cultch planting vessel, which will be able to reach previously inaccessible areas in need of oyster habitat restoration, particularly in southern and remote parts of the North Carolina coast.

Peters emphasized that with frequent and increasingly severe storms, the power
of oyster reefs to stabilize sediments is critical to coastal habitat resilience, and
that the state’s interest in protecting these areas through shellfish restoration is
promising.

Key to legislative backing for this restoration and protection work has been the win-win equation of the oyster industry’s economic potential, alongside the ecosystem services they provide. Bringing to bear deep business expertise paired with a passion for aquaculture was Tom Looney, the third panelist to share his experiences. Looney illustrated a convergence of factors leading to the explosive growth of North Carolina aquaculture in recent years — an unlikely turnaround following at least 100 years of depleted oyster resources, and a historically anemic aquaculture industry.

Efforts to restore oyster habitat and population have been met with key developments in oyster breeding to awaken this latent economic engine along our coast. The development and improved availability of triploid oysters for year-round enjoyment (not just months containing the letter “r”), along with increased oyster shell thickness (for easier shucking), and a shorter maturation period, have made oysters more consistently marketable. These improvements have dramatically increased the viability of small-scale aquaculture operations.

Such developments were critical, Looney highlighted, in convincing the legislature that this industry could deliver prolific, solid jobs and bring sustainable economic growth to our coastal communities.

It can be notoriously tricky to bring bipartisan environmental and business interests on board with a shared legislative agenda. The Blueprint meets the moment of economic opportunity with sound guidance on how to restore, protect, and harvest the threatened coastal resources that allow this industry to exist, so that it can grow sustainably.

Sen. Sanderson said the Blueprint “impressed the Senate” with its efficacy and its thoughtfulness, stressing that not many plans come to their desks so ready to implement. The effectiveness of the Blueprint to garner bipartisan support strikes a note of hope as we face layered environmental challenges in North Carolina; not only is it a roadmap for sustained oyster resources, but a potentially useful framework for future
communication and conservation victories as well.

“No one is doing this kind of a program in the way North Carolina is doing it,” stressed
Sen. Sanderson, “and it’s all because of the wisdom, the scientific approach, and all the other facets that have come together to see this succeed. And I absolutely believe that it is going to succeed.”

Oysters have proven themselves to be worthy of investment. Today, there are over 200 oyster growers along the N.C. coast, generating $27 million in economic impact with over 500 new jobs created. The goal of the working group surrounding these oyster efforts is to generate $100 million in business and 1,000 jobs by 2030.

Empowering passionate people who want to join this emerging industry will be key to achieving these goals, but barriers to entry for growers have been significant. Thanks to the advocacy of the oyster experts convened, the legislature has approved $1 million in funding for low-cost loans catered to shellfish startups, via the N.C. Rural Center. Such loans will make starting an aquaculture business much more accessible.

The next phase of support for these entrepreneurs is a plan to line the coast of North Carolina with aquaculture business incubator programs, to foster healthy growth of sustainable businesses — alongside healthy growth of our coastal ecosystems.

This isn’t a venture to rush into, however. Sen. Sanderson emphasized, “You’ve
got to know what you’re getting into … this is hard work.”

Along with shellfish curricula at community colleges, the proposed incubator programs could help shape dreams into savvy business plans, bolstering the likelihood of successful ventures, and the conscious growth of the aquaculture industry.

Rep. Hanig highlighted the “really comprehensive” Senate Bill 648, entitled “Support Shellfish Aquaculture.” The legislation was passed unanimously in 2019, establishing a pilot project for large oyster leases, streamlining the permitting process for aquaculture operations, increasing areas available for aquaculture, and looking at ways to mitigate user conflicts in lease areas. Improved regulatory processes, in tandem with increased educational opportunities and accessible loans, aim to buoy new N.C. aquaculture ventures.

Consumers are critical to the longevity of any industry; all panelists stressed the importance of education and outreach for the continued enjoyment of our state’s treasured bivalves. Tom Looney highlighted that oyster consumption is doubling every five years; intentional communication strategies can ensure that those consumer cravings are connected with local resources.

Looney applauded The Oyster Trail — a connective platform with over 50 members
and a user-friendly app that links customers to oyster farms, restaurants, markets, and educational tours. Beyond this tool, N.C. oyster resources can now be found in state welcome centers, aquariums, and coastal museums.

“Many people weren’t even aware we had an oyster industry,” remarked Looney. “Today, we’re driving awareness in a big way.”

In addition to following The Oyster Trail throughout the state, citizens can engage in service to fortify our coastal ecosystems. The Coastal Federation offers opportunities for volunteers to plant native vegetation, recycle oyster shells, install rain gardens, clean up marine debris, and assist with outreach programs.

Not only does Erin Fleckenstein spend her working hours fighting for our coastline through strategy and science, she also spends time helping to restore wetland habitats. Fleckenstein explained that, if we can more effectively divert and filter water through the landscape— effectively removing pollutants before it hits the coast— we can help oysters do their jobs and thrive in greater numbers.

“It’s all coming back to water quality,” Fleckenstein maintained, “making sure the waters of our sound are supporting these restoration efforts.”

Rep. Hanig emphasized that the multi-layered benefits and increased awareness of oysters “are just huge for us here, especially in eastern North Carolina,” where some of the state’s most economically and geographically vulnerable communities are located.

While the aquaculture industry’s growth is a beacon of hope in North Carolina, there are significant challenges to navigate. Presently, the coronavirus pandemic and its pervasive disruptions present hurdles to oyster stakeholders, from the coast to the kitchen.

Hanig called attention to House Bill 916, which appropriated $17 million in meat and seafood processing grants, to support businesses in the creation of new programs for resiliency in the face of COVID-19.

Looking forward, Tom Looney underscored the growing challenges presented by erosion, sea level rise, and climate change. These ecological crises require unconventional partnerships working together for our shared natural resources,
taking bold action on behalf of NC’s intertwined communities and ecosystems.

Such unconventional, bold partnerships are central to North Carolina Forever’s
agenda to preserve our state’s natural resources.

In the face of these complex challenges, it is wise to follow the lead of the oyster, which holds the knowledge to restore our waters and support its neighbors — if only we can protect and bolster the wild spaces in which they thrive. In times like these, we have much to learn from the oyster.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. Opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation. Submissions may be edited for clarity.

Guest commentary

For nearly a century, military personnel have been victims of toxic exposure to a wide range of toxic agents, oftentimes without them even knowing.

Doing a deep dive into the history of this issue only highlights a bitter irony: Veterans who have been trained and prepared to bravely fight and face the horrors of war are now suffering or being killed by a silent and slow enemy — toxic exposure. Moreover, their suffering often feels invalidated by the crushing bureaucratic process that is claiming Veterans Affairs benefits related to this issue.

Although toxic exposure in the military has been extensively discussed throughout the years and is a known issue, when it comes to connecting the dots between their disease and military service, many veterans and their families still have significant gaps, especially if they haven’t been deployed. This is exactly why it is critical not only to continue discussing, researching and informing about this issue but also to have a system in place that first and foremost acknowledges the full spectrum of side effects to toxic exposure and the existing link to veterans’ military service, facilitating their access to benefits.

Extent of exposure

Regardless of rank or role in the military, many service members have been exposed to toxic agents such as asbestos, per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, or PFAS, agent orange, and many others that have been used throughout history and have contaminated military sites, locations, and grounds. The truth is that almost all veterans have been exposed to hazardous or toxic products at some point during their service, whether it was during training, work duties, or on the base. Many of these agents have been linked to cancer and noncancerous illnesses.

While the focus now in the media might be on the issue of toxic exposure related to burn pits in Afghanistan and Iraq, and rightfully so, it is extremely important to keep shining the light on the others as well. And unfortunately, there are many identified toxic agents and, worse still, full-blown hazardous disasters that have plagued military service ever since World War I with the rise and popularity of asbestos. But perhaps the worst one that needs more acknowledging is the disaster that was Camp Lejeune.

In the early 1980s, tetrachloroethylene (PCE), trichloroethylene (TCE), dichloroethylene (DCE), benzene, and vinyl chloride were discovered in two water-supply systems on the Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. These water treatment plants supplied the water systems that served enlisted-family housing, unmarried service personnel barracks, base administrative offices, schools, and recreational areas. They also supplied water to the base hospital and an industrial area. However, officials did not close the contaminated wells until 1985, when they finally informed Marine families that chemicals had been detected in the water. According to health officials, up to 1 million people may have been exposed to water toxins for up to 30 years before the wells were closed.

Because the chemicals used at Camp Lejeune are extremely toxic to humans, those who were exposed are now at a high risk of developing a serious, even fatal disease as a result of their exposure. Some of the most common diseases associated with the exposure at Camp Lejeune are bladder cancer, breast cancer, kidney and lung cancer, leukemia and reproductive health problems.

Although Camp Lejeune is widely regarded as one of the worst cases of water contamination in U.S. history, it is far from the only toxic military site. The Environmental Protection Agency currently has 128 military installations on its list of Superfund sites, which are areas so contaminated with hazardous substances that the federal government has designated them as National Priorities List sites for cleanup.

But that’s not all. When speaking of contaminated sites, one must mention the thousands of PFAS contaminated sites.PFAS are a group of toxic fluorinated chemicals whose primary source is aqueous film-forming foam, also known as AFFF. For years, PFAS, also known as “forever chemicals,” have contaminated thousands of sites in the United States, including military bases where thousands of service members and their families live and work. Because of their nature, efforts to clean up contaminated sites are slow and will most likely continue for quite some time, as there are approximately 2,854 locations in 50 states that are still known to be contaminated as of August.

Exposure to toxic agents, be it asbestos, PFAS or contaminated water can lead to very serious health consequences that many veterans are struggling with today. In many cases, those health consequences are cancers that slowly develop over a long period of time and that oftentimes are either misdiagnosed or discovered in terminal phases. It is truly a tragedy that so many veterans have to battle today with these diseases after years of service and, as if that’s not enough they also have to battle for their rights.

Problematic approach

While it’s true that there are ongoing efforts to clean up the contaminated sites and the VA does acknowledge the link between toxic exposure and some diseases (some being the key word here), what’s being done is not nearly enough.

One of the veterans I work with has recently stated that:

”Starting the process for accessing VA benefits feels like jumping through hoops. Sometimes even like a slap in the face, especially trying to prove a link between my disease and the publicly known contaminated base I was on. There is too much bureaucracy that gets too complicated that it just makes you wonder if you’re fighting for nothing. But in the end, all you can do is ask for some help and hope for the best.”

Hope indeed. In lack of clearer, more broad and efficient legislation, all veterans can do is hope that their benefits will get approved. And here is exactly what is problematic about it. Veterans shouldn’t “hope for the best” after completing their service and being diagnosed with a severe or terminal disease. They should be automatically protected, helped and have their diseases validated by the responsible authorities. By this point there is sufficient research on the effects of toxic exposure and more than enough evidence to its extent at military installations throughout history. So why are things moving so slowly? Why is it so complicated? Why is toxic exposure still treated as if it is a light issue in terms of urgency, although the reality shows just how serious it is and even declaratively, lawmakers acknowledge it?

A law passed in 2012 provides veterans and family members who lived on the base with health care coverage for 15 conditions. Veterans may also be eligible for disability benefits for eight conditions that are thought to be related to the contamination. As part of the Caring for Camp Lejeune Families Act of 2012, qualifying veterans can receive VA health care (except dental care) if they served on active duty at Camp Lejeune for at least 30 cumulative days between Aug. 1, 1953, and Dec. 31, 1987.

There is some hope for veterans suffering as a result of toxic exposure at military bases with the traction that the Toxic Exposure in the American Military Act, or “TEAM” Act has recently gained. The TEAM Act was also proposed in Congress last year, but it failed to gain traction.

This is a bipartisan bill that would expand access to VA care and benefits for veterans who were exposed to toxic substances while serving, create a consistent process for determining presumptions of service connection for illnesses, create an independent scientific commission, and authorize additional research to determine whether conditions are linked to toxic exposure.

The TEAM Act would benefit not only veterans who served at Camp Lejeune, but also those who have been exposed to burn pits and other toxic substances. Now, Congress must act to ensure that military servicemembers and veterans who have been harmed by toxic exposure as a result of their military service receive the medical care and benefits they are entitled to. Unfortunately, to date, there doesn’t seem to be much urgency or significant movement in regards to this bill.

Earlier this year the Comprehensive and Overdue Support for Troops of War Act of 2021, also known as the COST of War Act, was introduced as part of a larger effort to assist veterans who have been exposed to toxic substances. If passed, this would automatically grant 3.5 million veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars access to VA health care. They would also, among other things, reform VA’s current process for handling toxic exposure claims and add new conditions to the presumptive list for toxic exposure. However, again, not much progress seems to have been made until now.

The lack of urgency to pass these bills and to reform the VA’s process for handling toxic exposure claims is problematic to say the least and should become a priority. The fact that after 100 years of proven toxic exposure in the military veterans still have to fight for their rights is a travesty. We need to do better, as a nation, for our veterans.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

With the 40^th anniversary looming for the North Carolina Coastal Federation, I considered the question, “Why have I been on the board of the federation all these years?”

The Carolina coast has a special place in my heart, full of visits with family and friends, time spent surf fishing, exploring wondrous places, listening to songs and stories, eating the best seafood, and serving on the federation board.

While I grew up in Ohio and my family visited the Outer Banks for a few days when I was young, this state — and the coast in particular — is now my home. My wife, Nancy Dole, and I moved to Chapel Hill when I entered law school and I worked for several conservation groups.

Over my legal career, most of my clients have been environmental and community groups across the state so the federation was a natural fit when it got started in 1982. Only the federation’s executive director, Todd Miller, has been with the organization longer than I have. But there is no comparison, I am an enthusiastic volunteer while Todd has provided a vision, done the hard work of starting and sustaining an essential organization to protect our coasts, and shouldered the day-to-day responsibility for the organization. It’s his passion, leadership and focus on the simple messages that have made the federation what it is today, a respected and guiding force for the protection and restoration of our coast.

In the 1980s, the entire coast was under threat from peat mining, oil refineries, overdevelopment, jetties, landfills, and the destruction of wetlands. Under Todd’s leadership, many people came together and created the federation. From our first office in Todd’s spare bedroom, we have grown to 30-plus staff working in three offices along the coast. Our top-notch scientists, policy advocates, educators, and administrators are involved in a vast array of projects, all tied together to fulfill our mission.

Nationally, the federation is revered as an example of how a committed, focused group can make major, real-word changes to ecosystems, public health, and economies. We have done this by our dedication to the coast, based on good science, education at all levels, sound public policy, and legal action if there is no other option.

As I see it, the federation’s mission can be summed up in four simple messages.

First and foremost “NO WETLANDS, NO SEAFOOD” is one of our guiding principles; we believe coastal North Carolina is more than just oceanfront property with uncluttered beaches and hot sand. It is a dynamic ecological ecosystem based on clean water, tides, marshes and wetlands, rivers, inlets, sounds, and the ocean. It provides habitat for aquatic life, a living classroom, and the continuing livelihood for generations of families.

The decades-long focus of the federation’s message has centered on OYSTERS. Like so much life on the coast, oysters depend on clean water to thrive. The oyster was once prevalent in our waters but were depleted from overproduction and pollution. Oyster reefs provide habitat for fish and seafood, and as filter feeders, oysters help clean the water around them. Oysters have provided livelihoods and sustenance to folks for centuries.        

Years ago, I was out on Stump Sound helping Bill Rice tend his family’s oyster gardens, bottomlands obtained from King George III in pre-Revolutionary times, converted to oyster leases in the 1930s. Stopping to take a lunch break on a narrow tidal island, Bill asked me to look down at the ground. It was covered with pottery shards, clay pieces with simple designs, mixed in with the sand with oyster shells. We laughed when Bill told me the Native people came to the sound to eat oysters and drink their beer, just like so many of us do today. I later followed up with historical anthropologists at the University of North Carolina and that’s exactly what happened. Hundreds of years ago, the men and older boys of the Pee Dee tribe would walk in the autumn from Town Creek in the center of North Carolina to Stump Sound, carrying corn mash in clay pots. The mash fermented as they walked and happy times ensued while oysters were eaten.

The heritage of oysters prevails today. Families up and down the coast make their living harvesting wild oysters. New oyster reefs have been created at Morris Landing in the Stump Sound to continue the tradition there. At Harkers Island, Ryan Bethea, a federation board member, is owner of one of the mariculture operations, an example of using new techniques to make a living off the sounds’ bounty and producing delicious oysters for many to enjoy.

The federation’s Northeast office, under the direction of its regional manager, Erin Fleckenstein, has recreated oyster reefs in Pamlico Sound using shells collected from restaurants around the state. The project uses state and federal dollars to collect and then offload the shells, giving jobs to the fishing community off-season.

Under the leadership of retired businessman and federation board member Tom Looney, the federation has helped North Carolina Sea Grant develop the North Carolina Oyster Trail, connecting oyster growers, markets, seafood restaurants, and oyster lovers (the “slurpers”). Oysters have become a tourism draw as well as an economic boon for the coastal economy. And returning to the early discussion, oysters are a biological indicator for clean water and beneficial habitat that all can enjoy.

Because of the positive impacts of a viable oyster economy, oyster restoration is a nonpartisan issue. Over the years, lobbyists for the federation, Jim Kennedy, Jim Stephenson and Rob Lamme, worked across both sides of the aisle, basing our arguments on economics, good science, and providing the legislators with a tasty oyster roast. There’s nothing like to ensure they understand the importance of this industry and the need to protect it. It helps to have Rep. Pricey Harrison, Democrat from Guilford County and former federation vice president, and Rep. Pat McElraft, Republican from Carteret County, in the North Carolina General Assembly to champion clean water bills and funding for oyster restoration.

Coastal ecology and coastal economy are two ways to look at the same thing, each supporting the other: No Wetlands, No Seafood.

The second message has become almost a cliché, but “THINK GLOBALLY, ACT LOCALLY” is a fundamental part of the federation’s mission. Acting locally includes backyard activism, major projects, and everything between, some with global impacts.

One of the earliest battles fought by the federation was the proposed mining of 120,000 acres of pocosin wetlands on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula using a half billion dollars in federal subsidies. The scheme was to drain the tracts, mine the peat, dry it out, and convert it to methane as a fuel source. The freshwater drainage alone would have had drastic impacts on the saline sounds and fish life, but when the high levels of mercury in the peat was included, the long-term result would have been catastrophic. The federation and the local fishing community joined forces to stop the project. The company did not get their permits and eventually through a partnership between federal agencies, national conservation groups, and private foundations, most of the mining tracts now form the Alligator River as well as the Pungo Lake National Wildlife Refuges.

Today, the federation’s Northeast office, with guidance from Mac Gibbs, retired extension agent and federation board member, works with farming interests to manage drainage from large farming tracts near Lake Mattamuskeet. This eliminates a significant amount of runoff into wetlands and shellfish habitat and reduces the need for major drain pumps, saving the farmers considerable money each year on electricity.

Similarly, the federation obtained the 6,000-acre North River Farm in Down East Carteret County with funding from the North Carolina Clean Water Management Trust Fund (CWMTF) in partnership with John Preyer and George Howard of Restoration Systems. Our long-term goal is to convert the farm fields back to wetlands and forests. This project is one of the largest in the eastern United States and has been closely monitored by scientists and government agencies to determine if changes in drainage patterns on a grand scale can reopen shellfish waters in the receiving waters. So far, the restoration operations are working as the land reverts to a more natural state. The restored wetlands have also proven to be a good way to sequester carbon to help with climate warming. Another side benefit is the more than 250 bird species now found on the site and thanks to the persistence of John Fussell, who wrote the book on coastal Carolina birds, North River Farm is now part of the North Carolina Birding Trail.

Acting locally also has been the focus of several of the federation’s longstanding projects. Low impact development (LID), promoted by Lauren Kolodij, the federation’s deputy director, uses simple building practices, such as wetland gardens and vegetated buffer zones, to reduce polluted runoff into streams, wetlands, the sound, and the ocean. Builder and developers have been trained in the LID techniques, and some have become fervent advocates of the practices. Growing this awareness and practices is key to preserving our waters.

Living shorelines, developed and promoted by federation coastal scientists Lexia Weaver and Tracy Skrabal, use natural elements to protect shorelines from erosion. As an environmentally sensitive and cost-effective alternative to bulkheads, living shorelines provide a buffer of marsh grasses and oyster beds as can be seen behind the Crystal Coast Convention Center in Carteret County.

These projects are supported by the federation’s educational and volunteer efforts. Taking students and teachers out of the classroom, getting them wet and muddy, planting marsh grasses and hauling oyster sacks, demonstrates how local actions can solve real problems. Several years ago, I worked with fifth graders at the White Oak Elementary School to build a rain garden and the kids learned a lot by working directly on the project. At a follow-up visit, the students showed off their “Rain Gardens Rock!” T-shirts.

How does this all add to thinking globally? The environmental crisis over the next 40 years on our coast will be CLIMATE CHANGE. It will result in sea level rise, shifting barrier islands, fiercer and more frequent storms, and longer droughts. We are already seeing fair weather flooding in Wilmington and increased erosion of barrier islands. Most of the local governments are revising their policies to make their communities more resilient. The federation is taking the lead in some of these activities, but we will have to do more and more in the future to meet this challenge.

Climate change and overdevelopment will also impact those less able to bear the economic burden. Dirty air from industrial operations and hog farms, runoff from mining operations and urban areas, and flooding from sea level rise necessitates the federation’s involvement in ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE. All North Carolinians should have clean air and clean water. 

Veronica Carter, federation board member and member of the Leland Town Council, sits on the North Carolina Environmental Justice and Equity Board. She’ll tell you how crucial it is for diverse voices to be heard as we develop policies for our coast. There is a clear disparity in income levels across the coast; many Black and Hispanic families have limited access to health care and a healthy environment. Drinking water wells are often contaminated. Waters polluted with arsenic, mercury, or per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, or PFAS, make fish unsafe to eat and many coastal families rely on subsistence fishing for food.

Simply put, the common good is defined by each of our impacts on the environment, from water and air to wetlands and shorelines. Local actions add up, but we need to keep in mind how those actions impact our coast, all of its people, and our future world.

The third simple message is one of PROFESSIONALISM. The federation staff is dedicated to be the best they can be as individuals and to support each other to make our organization the best it can be. Over the years, we have carefully hired highly exemplary folks who have brought a wide variety of talents and skills to the federation, and through example and training, have made professionalism the corporate norm.

Members of the board take pride in our staff and how they carry out our mission. We have always strived to have an active board with a diversity of talents and interests to invest in our programs and provide support for the staff. We have been fortunate to have had impressive leadership from our board presidents: Don Ensley, Lena Ritter, Ann Carter, Melvin Shepard, Dick Bierly, and Joe Ramus.

One of the federation’s strengths has been its ability to work with partners, local communities, other environmental and civic organizations, and governments at all levels. Our staff is respected by our partners because of their dedication, knowledge, and clear vision.

Many of the major projects undertaken by the federation have been in partnership with government agencies. The CWMTF provided funds for many of our land purchases and restoration projects. For example, the acquisition of Jones and Huggins islands by the federation with CWMTF dollars, and subsequent inclusion of the islands into Hammocks Beach State Park, has led to joint educational activities between the federation and the park that have levered both of our public programs.

The Bird Island Coastal Reserve in Brunswick County, overseen by the North Carolina Division of Coastal Management, would not have happened without a strong local presence, support by the federation, and public and private funding. One of the remaining undeveloped barrier islands, Bird Island, provides habitat and nesting areas for rare species turtles, birds, and plants.

Recently, in establishing the new Center for Coastal Protection and Restoration, the federation worked closely with the Navy, Carteret County, North Carolina Department of Cultural Resources, and the state legislature to acquire the necessary land on the Bogue Sound (see more about this below).

We’ve never been afraid to bring legal action if that is the only way to resolve an issue, but if there is a better way of finding a solution, that’s the preferred route. Our relationship with the Southern Environmental Law Center, one of the nation’s premier public interest legal teams, has proved itself repeatedly. Without SELC’s resources and talent, much of the coast would be quite different, major tracts of land would have been drained and mined, habitat forever lost, and most shellfish areas permanently closed.

By extension, the staff and board members have had the help of an extensive crew of volunteers as demonstrated by the awardees at the annual Pelican Awards that recognizes volunteers and organizations. Often the volunteers simply go about their jobs of helping out, not for recognition, just because something needs to be done. For years, longtime board member Lewis Piner put in a huge number of hours to enlist scores of volunteers to staff the federation booth at the North Carolina State Fair.

The federation’s programs are enhanced by CoastalReview.org, our daily news service providing a wide range of articles, from current happenings in the legislature, historic fishing communities, seafood recipes, federation projects, and highlighting the wide variety of folks who make up the federation and the coastal community. 

In keeping with the message of professionalism, the federation has made good fiscal management one of its priorities; it is after all other people’s money that allows us to carry out our work. Raising funds and increasing membership depends on using money wisely on projects that have positive impacts on the coastal environment and community.

Sally Steele, the federation’s longtime development director, now retired, made it a point to say there are few limits to an organization that is dedicated to its mission. She pushed the rest of us to think beyond a small staff in a small office to an organization with multimillion dollar annual budgets and 30-plus staff. When a project shows demonstrable impacts with broad application, funds become available.

I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the generous support of the Stanback family and the Z. Smith Reynolds Foundation over the years, and all the other foundations and individuals who have given us the funds we needed to carry out our mission. Likewise, past board member Olivia Holding and current board member Charles Meeker have pulled together successful statewide capital campaigns to expand our offices and increased our ability to hire staff.

The next step in the federation’s growth is the Center for Coastal Protection and Restoration, a public resource for coastal education and events on Bogue Sound. It will be the home if the federation’s future headquarters and be a showcase for sustainable design and LID practices.

It is not an easy lift to increase budgets and membership over 40 years, but it’s been possible with our dedicated staff, supportive board, and enthusiastic volunteers, and strong financial supporters.

The last of the simple messages is that each one of us should strive to be a part of the COASTAL COHORT. In their “King Mackerel and the Blues are Running” lyrics, the Coastal Cohorts — Bland Simpson, Don Dixon and Jim Wann — share their love of the coast and the stories that connect them to it. They want us to enjoy the fishing, the dancing, the beaches, the joys and mysteries, and the soundside life that makes up coastal North Carolina.

My favorite experiences on the coast, beyond spending time with family, come in listening to the storytellers and song writers. Tom Earnhardt tells of his explorations on the coast and his open-eyed wonder when the first flock of whistling swans land. Connie Mason sings the old songs, including one of my personal favorites, the “Booze Yacht,” evoking times gone by and the traditions we still retain. The late James Barry Gaskill of Ocracoke, with his “Hoi Toider” brogue, brought tears to my eyes with laughter with his story of taking a cooler of oysters to Las Vegas so he and his coastal buddies would have something good to eat. Jan DeBlieu, one-time federation staff in the Northeast, wrote poignantly of her family’s tragedy and the healing she found on the Outer Banks.

We all have different stories to tell about what the coast means to us. The mission of the federation, as expressed through its simple messages, is to bring the awareness of the coast, its beauty, its ecosystems and its economies, to everyone who will listen.

Because of my 40 years of support for the federation, indulge me and take my advice – enjoy the coast, catch a bluefish, watch the sun rise over the ocean, paddle a kayak to a barrier island, listen to the local stores, take a stand, get educated, make a difference, and become a COASTAL COHORT for life.

Oceana is a nonprofit organization dedicated to protecting and restoring the world’s oceans.

North Carolina is responsible for some important “firsts” in our nation’s history. We were the first state to instruct delegates to vote for independence from England. As our license plate boasts, aviation began here when the Wright brothers completed their first flight in Kitty Hawk. Plus, the first American mini-golf course was constructed here in Pinehurst. (OK, maybe that last one wasn’t quite as significant.) 

The point is, we have a history of leading. Yet we’re lagging behind our fellow states when it comes to combatting a growing problem that affects North Carolina intimately: plastic pollution. An estimated 33 billion pounds of plastic enter the ocean every year — that’s roughly equivalent to dumping two garbage trucks full of plastic into the oceans every minute. Marine life is choking on it, and people are now breathing, eating and drinking it. It’s everywhere — including our state’s coastlines. 

Marine animals have been reported suffering from plastic impacts for years in North Carolina waters, according to a November 2020 report by Oceana. Here’s a quick snapshot of what those impacts can look like: In 2009, a leatherback sea turtle (a species listed as endangered under the Endangered Species Act) was discovered in North Carolina with balloons and a 2-foot-long plastic bag in its body. In 2015, a bottlenose dolphin was found here with a child’s plastic ring toy entangled around its head.  

These are animals that draw people to our shores. Dolphins, whales and the occasional seal, sea turtle and manatee create special moments for visitors who don’t often have access to such experiences. They come here for pristine beaches, ocean scenes and the myriad forms of recreation that our coast provides. In fact, our 3,375 miles of coastline generate $3.1 billion gross domestic product through activities like tourism, recreation and fishing. Additionally, this robust coastal economy supports around 62,000 jobs.  

If business continues as usual, the plastic pollution crisis will intensify. The plastics industry expects annual production will more than triple by 2050. As plastic production increases, so will the amount of plastic entering the ocean. North Carolinians will not only see these impacts as our coastlines become more polluted; they’ll also feel them as plastic continues to damage the critical and diverse ecosystems that support our commercial fishing and recreational businesses. 

The most effective way to curb the plastic pollution crisis is to reduce the production and use of single-use plastic products. These items are profoundly flawed by design: They’re created from a material made to last forever but are designed to be thrown away and are sometimes only used for a moment before polluting the Earth for years to come. The top 10 waste items found in worldwide coastal cleanups are all single-use plastic products — and this has been the case every year for several years. Plastic food wrappers, bottles, straws, cups, plates, bags, takeout containers and more have taken over our coastlines. 

Our coast is quite literally our lifeline. And it is being increasingly sabotaged by plastic. So why aren’t our businesses and policy-makers doing something about it? 

Companies have a responsibility to change course — and they’d be wise to do so considering the path we’re on. They need to stop using so much unnecessary single-use plastic and instead turn to more sustainable alternatives before it’s too late. Unfortunately, we’re not seeing this necessary shift in the companies that provide many of the products we depend on every day.  

That’s why our local and state lawmakers are such a crucial piece of the puzzle. Hundreds of cities across the U.S. have said “enough is enough” and passed policies banning certain forms of unnecessary single-use plastic, such as plastic bags, straws and plastic foam food containers. Over a dozen states — most of which hug the coast — have passed bills to limit single-use plastics. 

North Carolina, however, has failed to address the issue. Like plastic, we’re just kind of floating along as the problem escalates. 

So it makes perfect sense that city and state governments across the country are passing policies to reduce these unnecessary products. Why haven’t we? North Carolina cannot remain stagnant when it comes to addressing this issue. We have too much to lose.  

It’s time we stepped up to the plate and remembered the change we can effect on the rest of the country when we lead. I am calling on our elected leaders to champion smart, effective policies to phase out the use of unnecessary single-use plastics. We need change now. Our future is at stake. 

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

While many extoll the benefits and virtues of recycling, we have become a nation of complacent recyclers.

Each week we sort the things that can be recycled from the things that cannot, and roll our bins out to the street where they are collected and further sorted before being hauled off to commercial recycling facilities. We pat ourselves on the back for doing something for the environment.

Too frequently, however, we simply forget or we place our plastic in the wrong container. Perhaps on the way to a recycling facility, a plastic bottle slips out of the can or a storm knocks over the bin. That plastic bottle will begin a long, and unfortunately uninterrupted journey to its final destination — a swirling gyre of garbage in the middle of the ocean, part of 8 million tons of plastic that makes its way into our oceans each year.

We are beginning to understand just how disastrous these floating garbage patches –some twice the size of Texas — are to the global ecosystem and consequentially, our own health.

The overlooked connection is happening in our own backyards. Plastics are funneled toward major bodies of water by an immense system of urban storm drains, small ditches and creeks, and eventually rivers, before being emptied into the world’s oceans.

During this journey, plastic bottles, bags, wrappers and packaging are broken down by UV exposure and abrasion. Large plastic litter turns into microplastic pollution — small pieces of plastic less than five millimeters long that are especially harmful to aquatic life, causing issues ranging from reproduction impairment to death.

Once ingested, microplastics also begin working their way up the food chain toward our dinner plates, bringing a laundry list of chemicals with them.

The stark reality is that no place on earth is immune to this problem, least of all here in North Carolina. With 300 miles of beaches, the North Carolina coast supports an economy of more than 62,000 jobs and $3.1 billion in GDP in fishing, tourism and recreation, according to Oceana.

Plastic pollution that enters the ocean from our state’s rivers affects those industries by reducing the fish populations and fouling the beaches and swimming water. If we want to have viable industries, clean water and a stable environment for future generations –we must act now.

Waterkeepers Carolina, a coalition of Riverkeepers and Waterkeepers across North Carolina, has begun working with partners including the Plastic Ocean Project and the Duke Environmental Law and Policy Clinic on a two-year project to collect surface water and sediment samples for a year to better understand the volume of macro- and microplastic pollution in North Carolina’s streams, rivers, lakes, and bays.

In the second year of the project, a passive litter collection device will be deployed to remove plastic litter regularly. Water samples then will be collected again to demonstrate the extent to which removing plastic litter reduces microplastic pollution in urban waterways.

The project will include work by citizen scientists whose input will join other data sources to show that creek plastics become ocean plastics. We expect that as rivers receive stormwater runoff from urban areas, microplastic pollution will build as rivers get closer to the Atlantic Ocean.

This is not a problem that is too big to fix, nor is it one for future generations. This is a fight for everyone today—requiring our collective participation and attention—if we want to prevent ocean gyres from growing, protect marine animal populations and preserve our economy, health and lifestyle along the way.

As more and more people move to the coast, there is a constant struggle between development and protecting our coastal environment.

We all need to be working together to resolve the complex issues facing our North Carolina coast. Currently, this is not happening. Standing at the forefront between future development and the environment is the United States Army Corps of Engineers. The Corps is an engineer formation of the United States Army that has three primary missions: Engineer Regiment, Military Construction and Civil Works. These engineers build sea walls, renourish beaches, dredge inlets and give approval for others (towns and contractors) to perform activities such as the construction of terminal groins and creating new or restoring existing navigational channels by dredging. Another important mission is aquatic ecosystem protection and restoration. Therefore, and unfortunately, the future of our coastal environment is not in the hands of natural resource agencies and coastal scientists, but rather in the hands of engineers.

A generalized difference between engineers and coastal scientists is that scientists are trained to understand natural systems while engineers are trained to manipulate the natural systems. Protecting our coastal environment should require and combine both; the engineers’ practical problem-solving expertise along with the scientists’ expertise on how nature works. Unfortunately in problem solving, coastal engineers usually ignore the scientific concerns expressed by coastal scientists. It is this scientific uncertainty about natural events that can undo engineering interventions on the coast. In some cases, the consequences of intervention can take several decades to become apparent. This makes it difficult for the general public to access applications and make the connection between Corps intervention and consequences it triggers.

The Corps recently approved permits to place a terminal groin on the east end of Ocean Isle Beach and to perform new dredging to create a navigational channel in Jinks Creek at Sunset Beach. What does the science say about these two projects? What are the probable future consequences the taxpayers, residents and vacationers of Ocean Isle Beach and Sunset can expect?

Example 1. A terminal groin was approved for the east end of Ocean Isle Beach because the beach in that area is eroding. A groin is a long, solid structure that extends out into the water, perpendicular to the shoreline, and is typically made of cement or rock. Groins prevent erosion by trapping the longshore transport of sediment on the updrift side of the groin. Wave actions naturally remove sand from the beach and this sand enters the longshore current and moves the sand parallel to the shoreline. In Brunswick County beaches this sand moves east to west. Terminal groins act like dams, physically stopping the movement of sand. Groins do result in a buildup of sand on the upstream side of the groin, which is precisely what they are designed to do. However, the areas further downstream are cut off from the natural longshore transport thereby triggering more erosion.

Figure 1 demonstrates that once the first groin is constructed additional groins will be required to protect the beach downstream. This figure shows a series of six groins along a beach. Notice the erosion downstream from the groin at the top of the figure. 

On the other hand, soft stabilization such as beach nourishment, dune building, marsh systems and living shorelines should be considered before intervention with hard structures like terminal groins. Soft structures will not subject the beaches of Ocean Isle Beach and eventually Sunset Beach to a series of terminal groins.

How can placing a terminal groin on Ocean Isle Beach be considered beach restoration when it will trigger more erosion? If a terminal groin is placed on the East end of Ocean Isle Beach how many future, additional groins will be needed? What will be the cost? Who will pay?

Example 2. The Corps recently approved a Sunset Beach permit to create a new navigational channel in South Jinks Creek, which is a naturally occurring shallow water tidal creek that has never been dredged before. Figure 2 shows the location of Jinks Creek on the East end of Sunset Beach. Jinks Creek via Tubbs Inlet connects the Atlantic Ocean to the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway. Just west of South Jinks Creek are the feeder canals and Canal Bay area. North Jinks Creek is surrounded by salt marshes which have been designated primary nursery areas and thus cannot be dredged. The town originally proposed to dredge all of Jinks Creek along with the feeder/canals and Canal Bay but, due to the high density of oyster beds North Jinks Creek was removed. 

Scientists have clearly expressed concerns that dredging a 1,700-foot-long, 80-foot-wide navigational channel that is 5 feet mean low water level in South Jinks Creek will increase the risk of flooding and erosion after storm surges on the east end of Sunset Beach. The engineering consulting firm Moffat and Nichol hired by the town said their computer modeling indicates there will not be any increase of flooding or erosion. The engineers state their modeling data estimates the maximum flood increase to occur in South Jinks Creek may be equal to an order of only 1/64 of an inch.

North Carolina State University professor emeritus Dr. Len Pietrafesa, the Burroughs and Chapin Scholar at Coastal Carolina University, Dr. Paul Gayes, a professor of marine science and geology at Coastal Carolina University and executive director of the Burroughs and Chapin Center for Marine and Wetlands at Coastal Carolina University, and Dr. Shaowu Bao, associate professor at the Coastal Science Center at Coastal Carolina University, using the very same computer program but with additional input data, disagree.

According to Dr. Pietrafesa, the study done by the consulting firm did not take into account nonlocal forcing due to wind set up at the mouths of tidal inlets, such as Tubbs Inlet that connects to South Jinks Creek, which are stochastic, or cannot be precisely predicted, and can overwhelm the amount of volumetric transport that can be driven into the system, particularly for South Jinks Creek. There already is major erosion in this area as shown by the extensive network of sandbags where Tubbs Inlet joins South Jinks Creek. If the three independent academic scientists are correct, the property owners in this area can expect more sand bagging on the rest of South Jinks Creek and possibly in Canal Bay. Sandbags are most likely only a temporary fix. What is next, other hard structures like bulkheads or sea walls? What will happen to the property values in this area?

After the initial dredging, maintenance dredging will be required every few years to keep the unnatural channel open. What will be the escalating costs of the required additional dredging? Who will pay for them?

Another consequence of dredging South Jinks Creek is that it will increase the sediment load deposited in North Jinks Creek. This will bury the high density of oyster beds. Oysters are a “keystone” species, meaning their removal could dramatically change the ecosystem. What will be the ecological impact on North Jinks Creek and the surrounding primary nursery areas? How can dredging a shallow-water tidal creek that has never been dredged before be considered aquatic ecosystem protection and restoration? 

In addition, the increased sediment load deposited in North Jinks Creek will most likely require that North Jinks Creek be dredged followed by more maintenance dredging. Again, what will be the escalating costs and who will pay? 

The civil works side of the Corps’ mission includes:

1. Navigation.
2. Flooding and storm protection.
3. Aquatic ecosystem restoration.

If you protect wisely you don’t have to restore. They are naturally a function of each other. If we are serious about attempting to protect what little natural environment, we have left we must convince the engineers of the Corps to collaborate with the independent academic scientists who have dedicated their professional lives to studying our coast. True collaboration leads to win-win solutions.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not those of Coastal Review or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Guest commentary

I read an article published this past week, “Ditch of Death: Navigation Dicey in Hatteras Inlet … again.” It tells of the recreational fisherman’s influence on Hatteras Village’s economy and how our Island’s commissioner worries about the “shoaling issues scaring away out-of-town vessels coming in for tournaments.”

But you failed to cover how commercial fishermen have been impacted by the inlet! In my opinion, Hatteras Village is just as dependent on commercial boats as we are on transient “eleven-million-dollar game fishing vessels.” As a seafood market owner and fish dealer, I worry about losing the last few remaining commercial fishermen we have because Hatteras Inlet is non-functioning.

Hatteras Village has been an active commercial fishing town long before we were ever a top beach destination. The average vacationer or full-time resident will not encounter commercial fishermen unless it is through their fork. You do not see them because they leave at 3 a.m. and get back after 10 p.m.– too early for coffee shops, too late for restaurants. Driving down the highway in Hatteras, you see rows of charter boats, but you won’t see commercial boats unless you go down the slash. But just because they are hidden in the safety of secluded harbors does not mean they do not pull their weight in town.

Most of the community has no idea that for the past year, Hatteras Island’s top commercial fishing boat, F/V Sea Bound, has been missing from its slip. In my world, its front-page news every week. I hear it non-stop at Wanchese Harbor, “Wow, so Sea Bound still can’t get out Hatteras Inlet?! That’s so sad …” Our island’s only long line boat is operating out of our neighboring fishing village and their residents are talking about it more than ours are!

Even more, most have no idea the Engelhard fleet did not fish out of Hatteras this year for the first time in decades. This was a massive hit for the village’s seafood industry: We depend on these dozen boats to net bluefish, ribbonfish, and dogfish throughout the fall and winter and sell them to local fish houses.

These fishermen opted to work out of Wanchese instead of Hatteras, landing millions of pounds of fish there because they could not rely on our inlet. In addition to the Engelhard fleet, our Wanchese King Mackerel fleet comes every fall and winter too. Usually, there at least a dozen of these boats. This year there were just a few.

These are the people who keep our local economy functioning in the off-season while our charter fleet remains tied up. They rent our houses, frequent our grocery stores and restaurants, buy fuel at our stations, buy fishing gear at our shops, make repairs at our boatyard, keep our fish houses open, feed our residents and visitors … All we have to do in return? Keep their way to work open.

Missing out on crucial fishing is not an option – you must reach the fishing grounds on time or somebody else will so you cannot wait for high tide. Bringing home your harvest, you cannot risk running aground with a fully loaded boat. This is when you get into danger and roll over from the extra weight. But the fish must get to market as fast as possible to maintain quality so you cannot wait for high tide now either, or you will miss the truck. It would be like if you had a drawbridge on your drive to work but they only lowered it twice a day, but those times change daily, and its only down for an hour.

What does it mean to our small village when commercial fishing boats leave our port? National Marine Fisheries has a formula: For every crew member on board a fishing vessel, 10 people are employed in shoreside support. So, when the two dozen boats from Engelhard and Wanchese did not come last winter with their crews, over 500 people employed as shoreside support were directly impacted. This is nearly 15% of our island’s population!

Just one commercial boat fishing out of Hatteras Village has a massive impact on the local economy. The boat owner employees two to three crew members but the labor does not stop there. At the fish house, another seven people are employed to pack out, report, and sell the fish. A truck driver is employed to carry the fish to market. If the fish are staying local, you need a fish cutter, and at least three employees at each restaurant or fish market. If the fish is being sold out of town, typically New York City or Boston, an additional 15-20 jobs are added to the supply chain.

As I write this, I am reflecting on the fishing trip our local tuna fleet just returned from, they left the dock while a tropical storm was beginning to form offshore. During setting on the third night, it had reached them – a squall came through with gusts of 70 mph. Then the rain started. One mate told me it rained so hard that they could not hear anything but water pounding into water but at least it knocked the waves down a little. I quote him here, “Cold. Wet. Miserable. Okay!”

But the part of the trip that is the scariest, the deadliest? Not setting 15 miles of fishing gear in a 70-mph squall but it’s the final two-mile stretch home that will get you. The inlet holds the power and only thing getting you through is the timing and experience of your captain. Even the best captains run into trouble at Hatteras Inlet, it’s just that unpredictable.

The first time I ran aground going out Hatteras channel was about six years ago when my brother, Graham, took me grouper fishing on F/V Prowler. We left at 3:30 a.m., so I hopped onto the large cooler for a nap while we went out. I was sound asleep when I was woken in mid-air, falling onto deck. Startled, I jumped up and said, “What happened?!” Graham calmly replied, “We ran aground.” He got on the radio and called the fleet, asking if anyone could come close and throw us a wave. A boat came along about 15 minutes later with the promised wave, thankfully it was enough to push us off the shoal and we were back on route.

Coming in that night, Graham had not forgotten the events of the morning’s departure. This time I was sleeping in the bunk when he wakes me up around 10 p.m. He says, “come up here and stand by the wheel.” I do it immediately and ask my question once I am in position, “why do I have to stand here?” He replied, “because if we run aground again, I need you right here next to me so I can keep you safe.” I stayed standing there, glued to the side of his captain’s chair for an hour and half until we got back to the slip.

Graham knows the dangers of running aground all too well – he almost died from it when he was 19 years old. Graham was filling in on a friend’s charter boat and the captain decided to leave out Oregon Inlet instead Hatteras, a less familiar course for him. Graham was standing at the back of the boat when the captain ran the high-speed boat violently aground. Graham was sent flying into the cabin wall. A crushed skull, torn shoulder and bleeding ear got him a helicopter ride to Norfolk General. It took a full year to heal up and he still fells pain in his shoulder when fishing gets good. 

My brother has owned and operated my dad’s fishing business since his retirement in 2014. Like many of our fishermen, my dad got tired of Hatteras Inlet. Risking your boat and your life just to get out fishing for 100 pounds of grouper? Nope. Not going to happen. Before regulation changes, he could land 3,000 pounds of grouper and the inlet could be used all day, now that was worth the potential peril.

Many of our county’s bigger boats also agree that risk has outweighed reward in our local waterways. They cannot risk bringing their trawlers into Wanchese out of fear of running aground. Instead, they opt for calmer, jettied, inlets below us where a one-foot wave is considered a breaking bar. Trickle-down fishing economics, I suppose. Hatteras boats can’t get out Hatteras Inlet, so they move to Wanchese. Wanchese boats can’t get out Oregon Inlet, so they move to Beaufort.

Our island’s fishing is worth saving but boats must have a way to access the Atlantic Ocean or there is no reason for them to stay here. Hatteras Island offshore fishermen are in extreme financial duress and the remainder of our fleet will soon be forced to relocate to neighboring fishing ports as well. I believe it is time for Governor Cooper to call this what it is: a natural disaster. Hatteras Island needs help now or we are at risk of losing our cultural heritage: a fate many fellow fishing communities across North Carolina have already been forced into.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

During the polar vortex that brought frigid temps to a wide swath of the Southeast in February, millions of Texans lost power when un-weatherized power systems froze, leaving customers to face several days without heat. It’s an event that has captured nationwide attention and left many asking whether this could happen here. The event also presented an excuse for the fossil fuel industry to falsely question the reliability of wind energy — an energy resource from which North Carolina’s economy stands to gain billions of dollars of investment and thousands of jobs.

What actually happened in Texas? Texas regulators and grid operators do not require weatherization measures — for extreme winter or summer conditions — at power plants. Natural gas supply dropped nearly 45% as gas facilities froze and, since the Texas energy market was not set up to exchange energy with other regional providers, as we are here in North Carolina, they were left without options. All power systems, including wind, can be — and are, in most areas — weatherized to protect against outages induced by hot or cold temperatures. With climate change increasing the frequency and intensity of these types of extreme weather events in all seasons, we’ll need to be focused on building more resilient energy systems that minimize impacts to the health and safety of our people and our local economies.

Unfortunately, wind energy was used as a scapegoat early on as Texans lost power. Energy experts and elected officials have mostly set the record straight about the cause of the outages, debunking those who initially blamed wind — pointing to how well wind turbines work in very cold places like Minnesota, Alaska, and Antarctica — but that misinformation was damaging. Setting the record straight is especially important here in North Carolina because wind is a critical energy resource we can employ to reduce pollution and grow our clean energy economy. Wind projects — both onshore and offshore — are capable of generating large volumes of energy to power homes and businesses, and we have opportunities to significantly expand our investment in this resource.

Earlier this month, the N.C. Department of Commerce released a report indicating the wind industry will bring $140 billion of investment to the East Coast — both through the construction of wind projects and the build out of the manufacturing supply chain. It will be up to us to compete for as large a piece of that $140 billion pie as we can. Our neighbor, Virginia, for example, is well ahead of us in their commitment to offshore wind, and time is of the essence if we hope to win any of these investments and projects — and the good-paying jobs that come with it.

Another important takeaway from Texas is how over-invested they are in fossil fuel infrastructure, with gas making up 51% of their energy mix, and coal coming in just over 13%. Around 30% of their coal and natural gas plants were down during the event, accounting for a majority of the power loss. There are signs of progress on the transition away from fossil fuels in the Southeast, but we’ve got a long way to go.

In 2020, Duke Energy rolled out a climate report that detailed their path to net zero carbon emissions. While there’s optimism around Duke’s focus on reducing carbon and expanding renewables, the company’s overreliance on gas in its near-term and long-term plans will be risky and expensive for North Carolina customers. A greater focus on limiting carbon pollution and transitioning to cleaner, more affordable, more resilient energy sources like wind and solar is needed.

The state’s Clean Energy Plan provides the direction Duke and other stakeholders need to pursue a cleaner path, reducing our reliance on the coal and gas sources that are fueling climate change. This cleaner path is critical to our state’s economic health, too, employing 112,000 North Carolinians and driving billions of dollars of investment into our state every year from manufacturing and other sectors. Wind and solar are not only reliable, particularly combined with new, more accessible energy storage options, they are now the cheapest sources of electricity across the country. We have too much to gain from the wind industry to let a misinformation campaign from Texas keep us from seizing those benefits. Renewable energy paves North Carolina’s path toward a healthier, more affordable, more reliable and resilient clean energy future.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Third in a series of columns on the origins of North Carolina’s natural heritage program and the statewide network of private land trusts conservancies. Read more.

Twenty years ago, in June 2000, the North Carolina General Assembly enacted a legislative goal that then-Gov. James Hunt Jr. had first set forth as his executive goal the year before, declaring that 1 million more acres in North Carolina should be permanently protected as parks, forests, natural areas, farmlands, streamside natural buffers, and other urban and community “open space” reserves before the end of 2010.

The goal was to increase the scale of protected lands in North Carolina to a total of 3.8 million acres in permanently conserved lands, equating to about 11% of the state’s total land area.

By the end of the year 2020, North Carolina finally attained that original goal to have 3.8 million acres of protected land, 10 years “late.” Good, but why so slow? The short answer is because of reduced public funding for land conservation by the state legislature and its termination of the state’s tax credits to private landowners willing to conserve their land.

Approximately 86.5% of protected lands in North Carolina is in public ownership, owned and managed by national, state or local governmental agencies. The rest of the protected land is held in ownerships either by private landowners who voluntarily entered into conservation easement management agreements or are owned by nonprofit conservation organizations including The Nature Conservancy, National Audubon Society and the statewide network of land trust conservancies.

The Division of Land and Water Stewardship in the state Department of Natural and Cultural Resources tracks the progress of land conservation in North Carolina. Its land conservation 2010 status report observed that the importance for protecting natural areas and rural landscapes continues to grow as science and the public recognize the critical values of ecosystem services, clean water, clean air, locally produced food, environmental buffers against climate changes, the links between human and environmental health, and the interconnections between environmental and economic vitality. Those observations remain true today. North Carolina’s population continues to grow along with greater land development pressures and conversion.

People are increasingly visiting and using public parks and greenways and valuing protected green spaces. Practically every year, our parks in North Carolina experience another 10% increase in public use and visitations. Practically every local public referendum for increasing funding for parks and land conservation passes by large margins. For example and in demonstration of that overwhelming public support for land conservation, Wake County voters overwhelmingly voted in November 2019 by nearly a 70% margin in favor of greater public funding ($120 million) for more county parks, nature preserves, greenways and protected rural “open space” lands.

North Carolina should be striving to increase the scale of protecting our premiere natural heritage land assets, rural landscapes, and vital environmental resources.

The mission for land and environmental conservation is not accomplished. With all the pressures of population growth, continued conversion of private farmlands and forests to intensive development, demands and impacts on limited water supplies, consequences of a changing climate, diminished food production, and greater public needs for more outdoor recreational opportunities and environmental health security, North Carolina should be striving to increase the scale of protecting our premiere natural heritage land assets, rural landscapes and vital environmental resources.

We would be smart to expand our strategies to embrace more incentives and public education, as well as higher investments of state and local public funds to achieve a greater scale and scope of land conservation and protection across our state and in all our communities. We should expand efforts to educate and engage more private landowners in natural resources conservation management and enhancement agreements, providing them greater levels of financial incentives and technical assistance.

President Biden has recommitted the USA’s engagement with efforts by the world’s community of nations to reduce the dire consequences of climate change. One important element of that ambitious international strategy is to assure conservation and preservation of at least 30% of the Earth’s land areas and waters by 2030. That “30 x 30” goal will translate down from the international, to national, to state levels. Of course, Western states possess much larger amounts of protected natural and rural landscapes, particularly where much of the land in those states remain in public ownership.

To contribute to attaining a substantial increase in the scale of natural and rural land resources protection, North Carolina needs to expand its land conservation efforts and funding.

At present, only 11% of North Carolina’s total land area is considered protected for its natural and environmental resources. To contribute to attaining a substantial increase in the scale of natural and rural land resources protection, North Carolina needs to expand its land conservation efforts and funding.

In demonstration of that need, the North Carolina Coastal Land Trust recently completed its $35.8 million capital campaign that expanded its conservation of high-priority natural areas in the coastal region and helps finance its growing land conservation stewardship responsibilities. The tasks and needs for protecting other important natural land resources are far from completed.

Let’s enlarge our vision to protect more natural areas and essential water bodies and to assure the conservation of more forests and farmlands in private ownerships. Let’s aspire and invest to protect and conserve our premiere natural heritage, rural landscapes, and water resources.

This week, the North Carolina Environmental Management Commission will consider approving a proposed “temporary” regulation to restore a permitting system to authorize activities in wetlands that federal agencies determine are no longer protected under the federal Clean Water Act.

The Department of Environmental Quality has recommended the temporary regulation. State commissions and agencies are allowed to adopt temporary rules in limited circumstances, such as the need to respond to the recent enactment of a law or federal regulation or a recent court order. Temporary regulations go into effect immediately, followed by the permanent rulemaking process, which can take years.

So what has given rise to the need to adopt temporary regulations to create a process for authorizing activities in wetlands, since the state has been requiring authorization of activities in wetlands for over two decades?

The short answer is North Carolina’s wetlands are protected by law as “waters of the State.” If the Department of Environmental Quality lacks a process to authorize activities that would impair or destroy wetlands, the wetlands are categorically protected and those activities are prohibited.

The longer answer requires an understanding of the interplay between federal and state law, and recent missteps by the Environmental Protection Agency and North Carolina General Assembly.

In 1996, the Environmental Management Commission adopted comprehensive wetland regulations in response to a U.S. Supreme Court decision that created uncertainty about the extent of federal protection of wetlands. The state regulations did several discrete things: defined wetlands, protected existing uses of wetlands such as flood retention and water purification, and established a permitting system to authorize activities in wetlands.

The Environmental Management Commission’s authority to adopt wetlands regulations and protect wetlands as “waters of the State” was challenged in court. We intervened in the case on behalf of the North Carolina Coastal Federation and other organizations to help defend the Commission’s authority. In 2002, the North Carolina Court of Appeals ruled wetlands are “waters of the State” and fully upheld the Commission’s duty to regulate activities impairing or destroying wetlands.

For many years, the federal and state partnership in protecting wetlands worked, with the State, as necessary, supplementing federal protection by requiring State authorization for activities impairing or destroying wetlands.

Then in 2018, the North Carolina General Assembly took the shortsighted action of enacting a law that repealed the part of the Environmental Management Commission’s regulations establishing a permitting system to authorize activities in most wetlands.

Importantly, the legislation only repealed authority to authorize or permit activities in wetlands, not state law or regulations defining wetlands as waters of the State and requiring protection of wetlands. At first, this law had little effect since nearly all wetlands were regulated by federal agencies. The required federal permits allowed the State to both meet its duty to protect wetlands and authorize activities through its authority to certify that the federal permits protected water quality.

Then this year, the Environmental Protecting Agency took the second shortsighted (and we contend unlawful) action of defining waters protected under the Clean Water Act to exclude many if not most wetlands.

This created the current situation where federal permits are now not required to destroy many wetlands. Because there are no federal permits, the State is unable to use its water quality certification to meet its obligation to protect wetlands as waters of the State. And the General Assembly has repealed its authority to separately authorize activities in these wetlands.

But the law is clear: these wetlands that the Environmental Protection Agency has now determined are no longer protected by the Clean Water Act remain protected under state law. The General Assembly has repealed the Department of Environmental Quality’s authority to issue permits for most of these wetlands. The Department of Environmental Quality has appropriately concluded that, if no federal permits are required to destroy these wetlands and the Department of Environmental Quality cannot issue authorizations or permits, it has no choice under state law except to prohibit all activities in these wetlands.

In requesting that the Environmental Management Commission enact temporary rules, the Department of Environmental Quality is only seeking to restore its authority to authorize activities in wetlands that now do not require federal permits.

Some might contend it would be better to keep the legal status quo in which all activities that impair or destroy these wetlands are prohibited, with no process to authorize them. But in general, the longstanding process to require authorization or permits, minimize impacts, and restore wetlands to compensate for unavoidable losses has served the State well.

And this would not be necessary if the Environmental Protection Agency had not redefined waters protected under the Clean Water Act to exclude protections for many wetlands, streams, and lakes. This action is being challenged in federal court and, if reversed, would restore longstanding federal protections. But that is a story for another day.

For now, the Environmental Management Commission should approve the request by the Department of Environmental Quality to enact a temporary regulation restoring the Department’s authority to implement its wetland protection permitting.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

This time of year always makes me think of my coastal hero, a man with great passion for the coast who showed me early on the true impact people can make when they care deeply for a cause. I was sad to lose my hero earlier this summer. Frank Nesmith, known to many as “the Mayor of Bird Island,” passed away peacefully at his home in Sunset Beach in mid-July. He was 93. His daughter Lynn let me know that a great blue heron took flight from the marsh outside his window the moment he died.

Frank also did something pretty special back in the ’70s that still touches people of all ages today. He and friend Claudia erected a mailbox at Bird Island and named it Kindred Spirit. It was a place people could visit and write their thoughts and feelings both happy and sad in journals for all to see. People have been making the half-mile walk to the mailbox for decades and its popularity has grown with every passing year.

Back in 1992, Frank’s Kindred Spirit mailbox and the integrity of Bird Island were threatened by plans for a bridge, causeway system and houses to be built on the Island. He was determined to not let that happen and quickly turned his passion into outreach and advocacy, setting out on a mission to save the island from development.

I was so fortunate to be a part of his mission, having been newly hired by the North Carolina Coastal Federation in the early ’90s when we spearheaded the campaign to save Bird Island. I will always remember the phone call I received from a man named Bill Ducker first alerting the federation to the proposed development. Bill’s house at Sunset Beach overlooked the beautiful island that was slated for bridge and home construction.

Federation Director Todd Miller and I quickly made the three-hour trip from Carteret County down to Sunset Beach to meet with Bill, Frank and other wonderful local residents upset by the development proposal. That first encounter led to the formation of the Bird Island Preservation Society that consisted of a group of local residents, the federation, the North Carolina Coastal Land Trust, Audubon North Carolina and Sunset Sea Turtle project, all of whom worked tirelessly and collectively over a decade to save the Island.

We met monthly and organized ourselves on several fronts. Frank’s niece created a Bird Island Preservation Society logo for the group. We used it on stickers, T-shirts, brochures and banners. Todd began analyzing every word in federal, state and local policy that we could possibly use to show how the development was inconsistent with laws and rules and should be denied. And Frank? Well, he led educational walks to the island and lots of them.

Residents and summer visitors joined Frank each Wednesday for educational walks to Bird Island. He talked about the plants and animals that were being threatened by the proposed development and the fact that it really was a bad idea to put a bridge over dynamic Mad Inlet so that houses could be built and folks could drive to them. His following grew and grew, kind of like Forest Gump’s following when he begins running toward the end of the movie. Unlike Forest Gump, Frank was running with a purpose and that was to save Bird Island. He led tours in the sweltering August heat and dodged pop-up thunderstorms along the way to reach as many people as he could to ignite their passion for the island.

It worked, and hundreds of people began signing petitions, writing letters and sending in contributions to the cause.

In addition to the walks, I will always remember one event in particular that we organized early on in the Save Bird Island campaign. It was a boat tour, a parade of sorts, in September 1992, and Frank was the grand marshal. We organized this in the early years of our fight to bring attention to the proposal and dynamic nature of the barrier island. The waters were shallow, so we used a half-dozen skiffs to take local media, then-state Rep. David Redwine and other officials out to the waters around the island. It was important to us to show firsthand where the incompatible development was being proposed so tour participants could really get a sense of how bad an idea it was.

Frank led the small fleet of boats and I remember how Frank’s passion radiated as he led the tour and spoke against the development. He was proud and I was proud to be next to him. That was the first time the campaign gained the attention of decision makers and it is what kick-started our success in saving the island. I think about the tour every September when the beach crowds and summer humidity begin to fade.

After working together for 10 years, we finally won, the state denied permits to develop the island and purchased it. It is now part of the state’s Coastal Reserve Program for all to enjoy in perpetuity.  What a success!

The beach walks, boat tour, media interviews and many other components of the Save Bird Island Campaign were focused on the island, but the story of an incredible man, a simple black mailbox and a dog named Spartina gave our effort a face for people to fall in love with. Almost overnight, Frank and his Kindred Spirit mailbox became heroes to the cause. His presence, voice and passion brought the campaign to life. If you Google “Frank Nesmith” today, you’ll find that Frank and the Kindred Spirit mailbox have been featured in the New York Times, CBS Evening News and just about every state and local media outlet.

I miss my coastal hero dearly but I know we will be kindred spirits forever.  Now when I see a great blue heron land in the marsh behind my house, I look at it more attentively and wonder if it’s Frank stopping by to say “Hello.” I say “hello” back, just in case.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

This weekend marks the anniversary  of Hurricane Dorian’s landfall on the North Carolina coast, which resulted in devastating flooding on Ocracoke Island. Guest columnist Peter Vankevich, copublisher along with Connie Leinbach of the Ocracoke Observer, has collaborated with Coastal Review Online in publishing this look at how the storm has changed life for island residents.

OCRACOKE ISLAND — To modify a cliché, there is truth when saying “Ocracoke has weathered the storm … again.” Hurricane Dorian, the most recent hurricane to hit the island, could modify it with “barely.”

Ocracoke’s community has withstood major hurricanes over the centuries, sometimes in sensational fashion.

In early September 1913, a hurricane struck eastern North Carolina. A national news dispatch on Sept. 4 on that storm reported that all 500 residents on Ocracoke had perished. The story was based on someone seeing 30-foot waves in the Pamlico Sound.

To the credit of the press back then, the news report was quickly walked back and, in fact, not a single fatality occurred on the island. Nevertheless, that unnamed hurricane caused substantial damage throughout the eastern Carolinas. Erik Heden, the warning coordination meteorologist for the National Weather Service in Morehead City, pointed out that the 1913 storm was classified as a Category 1 event, which proves that category numbers are not a sole reliable indicator as to what a major storm can do in causing devastation.

“The Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Wind Scale measures wind speed only,” said Heden. “It doesn’t factor in storm surge and rainfall, which can have devastating impacts as we saw with Dorian.”

Ocracoke has withstood many powerful hurricanes, with names such as Gloria, Isabel, Alex and Matthew since 1953, the year the National Hurricane Center began using a preselected list of women’s names for Atlantic Basin storms. In 1979 alternating men’s and women’s names for storms began. Prior to that, there were other destructive storms, notably the Independence Hurricane of 1775, the San Cirioca Storm in 1899, the Hurricane of 1933 and the Great Atlantic Hurricane of 1944.

The many details of the impact of Dorian which closed the island to visitors until Dec. 2, are too numerous for this story but many more are available from the Ocracoke Observer.

Here are some of the  highlights:

• Dorian had a profoundly harmful impact on Ocracoke, causing a deep trauma — physical, mental and economic.
• By the time it made landfall on Hatteras Island, just above Ocracoke, on the morning of Sept. 6, it was far from being the most powerful, “just” another Category 1, with peak winds of about 90 mph.
• Dorian arrived well credentialed. It formed Aug. 24, 2019, and quickly rose to an extremely powerful and devastating Category 5 hurricane with peak winds at 185 mph. It is the most intense tropical cyclone on record to strike the Bahamas and is regarded as the worst natural disaster in the country’s history. The United States waited nervously as it headed west. Dorian skirted the Atlantic Coast of Florida then moved northward, causing relatively minor damage until reaching Ocracoke.
• Dorian struck at night on Sept. 5, and on Sept. 6, around 7:30 a.m., a 7.4-foot storm surge quickly tore through the village. Amazingly, there was no loss of life from this storm.

“There is significant concern about hundreds of people trapped on Ocracoke  Island,” Gov. Roy Cooper said in a press conference that day. “There are rescue teams ready as soon as they can get in.”

Cooper visited the island the following day to get a first-hand look.

Even before the storm had departed, several islanders took to their skiffs and piloted through the village making many heroic rescues of folks unable to get out of their homes.

It quickly became obvious that the assistance needed would be substantial and long. For various times, the only grocery store, the bank and health center were closed, and the electric power was down and an unprecedented warning went out that lasted for a few days to boil tap water before drinking or cooking with it.

Dorian’s high waves breached N.C. 12 at the north end, cutting off access to the Hatteras Inlet ferry terminal.

Ocracoke School flooded and classes were canceled. School officials worked feverishly to find alternative locations, ultimately using North Carolina Center for the Advancement of Teaching, or NCCAT, facility, Ocracoke Child Care, and the upper floors of the school’s elementary section. But it would take a month before students could return to class. These locations that would last until COVID-19 on March 14 caused a shutdown for all state school buildings.

As the floodwaters ebbed, officials mobilized the Ocracoke Volunteer Fire Department as a command center. Many islanders showed up to volunteer and were quickly put to work, others arrived requesting assistance, noting their homes were destroyed or trees had fallen onto their houses.

The Ocracoke Control Group, Office of the County Manager, and Hyde County Emergency Management met to develop and implement a plan to deal with the disaster.

Ocracoke was not abandoned. In fact, it seemed like the whole state mobilized to provide assistance and donate goods. A host of state and federal partners soon arrived, including the National Park Service, the North Carolina Department of Transportation and its Ferry Division, the governor’s office, state Emergency Management and the Federal Emergency Management Agency.

The North Carolina Office of Emergency Medical Services set up a field hospital outside the health center, which was badly damaged and would take a few months to reopen.

Residents of Carteret County and mainland Hyde County filled their boats and delivered much-needed emergency supplies. Donated food, cleaning products and other supplies poured in via the ferries and filled the bays of the fire department with the firetrucks parked across the street.

The village quickly took on the appearance of a disaster zone with debris from flooded houses, many of which would be demolished, and downed trees lined the streets. Dozens of totaled vehicles were placed along the road, especially north of Ocracoke.

The National Park Service permitted the material to be taken to the parking lot of what is locally known as Lifeguard Beach and vegetation at a site near the campground. Both locations were massive, causing locals to declare the Lifeguard Beach parking lot as the highest point in Hyde County.

Ocracoke’s county commissioner, Tom Pahl, the keynote speaker at the Outer Banks Community Foundation’s annual meeting and luncheon on Feb. 20, noted that more than a third of the buildings on Ocracoke were severely damaged; 88 of 105 businesses sustained significant damage; hundreds of cars and trucks were totaled and 3 miles of road at the island’s north end destroyed, taking several weeks to repair.

Many individuals and organizations volunteered to help, including the American Red Cross and the faith-based Salvation Army, Samaritans Purse, North Carolina Baptists on Mission, and the United Methodists Committee on Relief (UMCOR). These groups went to peoples’ homes and removed downed trees, ripped out water-soaked insulation and performed many other tasks.

One of many heroes is the Outer Banks Community Foundation. It set up the Ocracoke Disaster Relief Fund and raised more than $1.2 million in contributions from about 6,000 donors. Organizations and individuals from all over the region and the country also sent contributions to the school and two churches.

Throughout the fall, there were many fundraisers, including the performing artists of the Ocrafolk Festival at the historic Carolina Theatre in Durham, and a lemonade stand set up by a 6-year-old near the North Carolina Seafood Festival in Morehead City, that got onto social media and raised nearly $9,000 for the school.

The governor returned Sept. 23 with several of his secretaries and top staff and they spent the day listening to the islanders and touring the village.

To pile on, a mid-November storm pummeled the Outer Banks with two days of sustained winds of more than 30 mph and gusts much higher that again wreaked havoc on N.C. 12 and caused the ferry system to suspend operations, resulting in a delay in reopening the island, which finally happened Dec. 2.

As the islanders struggled to return to homes and reopen their businesses, people started looking forward.

Hurricane Dorian caught the attention of Whitney Knollenberg, assistant professor in the Department of Parks, Recreation and Tourism Management at North Carolina State University. She focuses her research on the role of policy and planning and sustainable tourism development. She had previously done a study on Ocracoke’s tourism economy that was funded through North Carolina Sea Grant as part of their community collaboration research grants program.

“Reading the news about Ocracoke, I realized that Dorian would have a long-term impact on the island’s economy and a follow-up study was needed,” she said. “It (Dorian) really stood out to me as an example of an event that is going to continue to happen in places like Ocracoke, which are reliant upon tourism, and we are going to have to figure out how to address these types of changes.”

Knollenberg and three colleagues have received a grant from the National Science Foundation to identify the available information and resources for community leaders to make policy and planning decisions. The scope of her study has been expanded to include the COVID-19 pandemic.

Recently, the New York Times profiled a rare and pleasant surprise for U.S. fisheries. Americans under quarantine are buying more seafood from stores.

In North Carolina, though, this ray of optimism may not be enough to keep our fishers afloat through the COVID-19 crisis. Restaurants purchase about 80% of domestic, locally caught seafood. With restaurants closed, and with social distancing recommended for the foreseeable future, North Carolina fisheries face uncertain times.

For North Carolina fishers, it is hard to imagine a worse time for COVID-19. Over the last year, I have read dozens of testimonies, held many conversations and listened closely to North Carolina fishermen, retailers and friends of our fishery. The general consensus, as I heard the head of the North Carolina Fisheries Association tell the audience at the 2020 NC Catch Summit, is that North Carolina fisheries are in a “pitiful state.”

A veteran of fishery management in our state told me that politics, not science, often guide the management of our fisheries. And fishermen’s voices are often underrepresented in the political squabbling. I caught the power of this sentiment back in March at the 2020 Catch Summit when the audience of fishers and seafood workers erupted with a standing ovation (the only one of the day) after Chef Ricky Moore called to give fishers a more meaningful voice in regulatory decision making.

This was a simple, but powerful call. North Carolina fishing communities have suffered tremendously over the last generation, and often feel that the state has targeted them. In Barbara Garrity-Blake and Susan West’s “Fish House Opera” an independent, Beaufort clammer powerfully summarizes this sentiment.

“Why are people with nothing the problem? I’ll tell you why. Because we are of no economy to the system.”

Indeed, trends in politics and economics have made it difficult for North Carolina fisheries. These trends typically favor larger firms and consolidated, vertically integrated operations with more disposable capital. For example, federal permits allocate catch shares for many species caught off of our coast, in federal waters, and these permits can cost hundreds of thousands –even millions — of dollars. Vessels must also be equipped with expensive “Vessel Monitoring Systems,” the cost of which is incurred by the vessel owner.

All of this favors larger firms and business that can afford such prohibitive costs. Similar stories abound for other forms of regulation on equipment and monitoring, from fuel to gillnets.

The market for local seafood is also artificially constrained. The triangle imports about 90% of all its seafood. North Carolinafishers are quick to point out the irony that much of this seafood is caught in places with very lax regulatory standards. Extremely weak labor protections and overfishing abound at sea, in many parts of the world.

For example, as I am exploring in my dissertation research, shrimp aquaculture in Southeast Asia is supported by severely exploited, often forced, migrant labor. These workers catch nonmarket “trash-fish” to feed input dependent shrimp farms. At any grocery store, Thai shrimp are much cheaper than North Carolina shrimp. We should ask why.

Overall, seafood supply chains at the global level are extremely complicated and difficult to manage due to geographic and political obstacles. Thus, if we want to promote sustainable seafood, we need to promote local seafood. Thankfully, our coast provides a more manageable alternative.

Sadly, that may not be an option for North Carolina, if trends continue. Today, the fleet is aging. The state issues fewer commercial licenses every year, and finfish captures have declined precipitously. The only thing that seems to be increasing are the permits that, often, only the richest, often nonlocal, operators can afford.

The social consequences of fishery decline are also drastic. According to my preliminary analyses for N.C. State’s Center for Environmental Farming Systems, fishery decline corresponds to neighborhood inequity and persistent poverty. Furthermore, what happens to a small, rural community when a center of commerce and social bonding, like a fish house, closes down? There are economic and cultural losses, the latter of which are even more difficult to recoup.

COVID-19 exacerbates all these trends. Recently, I sat in on a virtual, state seafood task meeting. I expected bad news, but was still shocked at the extent of the crisis. With restaurant closures, 90-95% of shellfish market sales have evaporated. Due to a lack of in-state processing operations, commercial fishery supply chains in North Carolina are simply not set up for grocery stores. Roughly 75% of the traditional market disappeared, and much of it may not return, due to COVID-19.

Currently, the most meaningful action our state government should take is to purchase seafood from our coast and distribute it to those in need. This could occur at institutions that the state already provides food for, such as hospitals, prisons, schools, food banks and homeless shelters. Our fishers are catching fish, they just need a market. The state can fill this role and promote food security and public health at the same time.

North Carolina should also work with our fisheries to establish affordable sustainability certifications, which many grocery stores require for seafood products. This would save fishers time and money. Other measures, such as collaborative investment in the creation of seafood processing and distribution infrastructure, would help to develop local, sustainable seafood as well.

The state should also continue to expand its investment in education for consumers on the often unappreciated value of local fisheries. Customers will often go to Locals Seafood in Raleigh and ask “where’s the salmon?” or “what is mullet?”—seafood retailers and restaurants consistently express that this lack of embedded knowledge with the local environment serves as a persistent obstacle to selling North Carolina seafood.

Ultimately, this will all require valuing our fisheries and the diverse and working class communities that have made them what they are for generations. We can do that, and promote sustainable seafood, food security, and get through this difficult time together, by supporting North Carolina Fisheries.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

The economy will reopen! The questions are the timing and mechanism. To answer these questions requires a better understanding of how the virus functions and spreads the disease.

COVID-19 has never been seen before this outbreak. As a result, there are many details about the infection that remain unknown. Will COVID-19 go away soon? What can we learn from history?

The impact of the 1918 Spanish flu continues today. Descendants of the virus can still be found in pigs. Ever since a lab accident in 1977, nearly all human cases of influenza A have been caused by Spanish flu viral descendants.

The Spanish flu was the most devastating pandemic ever recorded. What are the similarities between the Spanish flu and the coronavirus pandemics? Both diseases appear to come from animal sources.

Research suggests H1N1 Spanish flu virus came from birds. Scientists suspect an animal originally hosted the COVID-19 coronavirus strain before it started to infect humans but, to date the animal has not been identified. We also know the Spanish flu became much more dangerous after an apparent mutation. Strains of coronavirus are known to mutate relatively easily. A third comparison shows how quickly both viruses spread. Spanish flu infected an estimated one-third of the global population. COVID-19 has spread rapidly from its late December origin in China. It is now found on all continents except Antarctica. The State of New York alone currently has more infections than any other country.

The graph below demonstrates the three waves of the 1918 influenza pandemic. The second wave was much more deadly than the first or third wave.

The first wave resembled a typical flu epidemic; those most at risk were the sick and elderly, while younger, healthier people recovered easily. Historians now believe that the fatal severity of the Spanish flu’s second wave was caused by a mutated virus spread by wartime troop movement. The second wave made adults who were young and fit more vulnerable. Will we experience a second wave of the COVID-19 infections if we open the economy to soon?

The current prerequisite for reopening the economy appears to be the development of an antibody test. Such a test will identify individuals who have been infected and therefore have antibody protection against the virus; the first group to go back to work. The antibody test will detect the body’s immune response to the infection but does not detect the virus itself. In order words, a positive antibody test indicates coronavirus infection in the past; it does not rule out the possibility that the virus is still present in individuals who test positive for the antibody.

Before an individual with a positive antibody test is allowed to go back to work, a real time polymerase chain reaction test (RT-PCR) should also be performed. The RT-PCR test will detect the presence of viral RNA. It is an extremely sensitive test that can detect as little as one virus particle in swabs from inside the mouth or nose. Since there are now 91 cases in South Korea where patients have recovered from the viral infection, but still test positive for the virus, it makes the TR-PCR test a critical part of the equation to open the economy.

Another problem with the antibody test is to classify individuals to go back to work is that we currently don’t know how long the COVIP-19 antibodies will protect against reinfection. In the case of measles, the protection lasts a lifetime but, this is not the case with some other viruses.  More research needs be performed on the longevity of the COVID antibody before allowing people to go back to work.

Finally, before stay-at-home orders are lifted, we need to improve our diagnostic capabilities so that scientists can calculate the R_o value of the COVID-19 virus. R_o indicates how contagious an infectious disease is. It’s also referred to as the reproduction number. As an infection spreads to new people, it reproduces itself.

R_o indicates the average number of people who will catch a disease from one contagious person. It specifically applies to a population of people who were previously free of infection and haven’t been vaccinated; this is the case for the COVID-19 virus. If the R_o is less than 1, each existing infection causes less than one new infection. In this case, the disease will eventually die out. If R_o equals 1, each existing infection causes one new infection. The disease will stay alive and stable, but there won’t be an outbreak or an epidemic. If the R_o is greater than 1, each existing infection causes more than one new infection. The disease will spread between people, and there may be an outbreak or epidemic.

What is the R_o value of the COVID-19 virus? Since the COVID-19 virus is still new, scientists are working on establishing its R_o value. Researchers who have calculated an R_o for the current outbreak have had to make assumptions. As the virus spreads more information will be made available and the number is likely to change. The current estimate of the World Health Organization is that COVID-19 has an R_o value between 2.0 and 2.5. The R_o value for the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic was estimated to be between 1.4 and 2.8. Clearly, before the economy is reopened, the R_o value for COVID-19 must be 1 or lower. Otherwise we will not stop the spread of the virus.

Once individuals that are immune to reinfection are given permission to go back to work, the Spanish flu pandemic demonstrates that social distancing must be enforced. Unfortunately, there are several industries where social distancing will be difficult to enforced. They include travel by airlines/mass transit, attending church services, movie theaters, sporting events, conventions, funerals, school, etc. Thus reopening the economy must start with industries where social distancing can be enforced.

The potential reopening of the economy is a very complex issue. We need a lot more information regarding the virus before considering the time and mechanism to reopen the economy.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

A gentle breeze drifts in from the Atlantic, passing over the rolling waves where children pause in their play looking to the sky, thrilled to watch as an osprey hovers, whistles and plunge-dives for its prey. The breeze carries on, lifting the smell of Coppertone up the dunes to the nostrils of beachgoers, who stop to admire the grace of a dozen brown pelicans soaring overhead.

In a brief moment, the breeze has crossed this narrow stretch of sand to rustle the feathers of herons and egrets along the marsh shore; coastal kayakers delight in their long-legged, long-necked antics. This single breeze envelopes one fragment of time capturing iconic moments and memories that are quintessential to the Outer Banks experience.

As director of Audubon’s Donal C. O’Brien, Jr. Sanctuary in Corolla, these scenes serve as my daily reminder of what makes this isolated strip of beach and marsh so special—it’s a place where birds and nature still thrive alongside humans. But it was not always so.

In the early 1980s when I first came to the Outer Banks, pelicans were a rare sighting and osprey were not to be seen at all. Human activities, primarily the unregulated use of pesticides and herbicides like DDT, had drastically reduced the numbers of these birds.

Likewise, 80 years earlier, market hunting and the fashion trade—which supplied feathers for women’s hats—had nearly eradicated egrets and herons. It was in those years, at the turn of the last century, when the first bird advocates organized to curtail the plumage trade, to save these species and their vital role in the ecology of the coast. In that time, organizations such as Audubon North Carolina were born. It would take years for new laws advanced by Audubon to pass in the state legislature and Congress, and even more time for birds to rebound, but rebound they would.

So, too, in the 1960s and early 1970s, people of all political stripes banded together to reduce the use of uncontrolled pesticides and herbicides and their impact on our ecosystems. The Clean Air Act, the Clean Water Act, and many others came about in a strongly bipartisan manner during this time.

It took a long time for the toxins to filter out of our environment, for populations to recover for birds such as osprey, whose shells had been so weakened by the chemicals that parents would crush their eggs under their own weight. But as the toxins cleared, birds were more successful at raising chicks, and their populations rebounded.

My first osprey nest sighting on the Outer Banks occurred in 1991, a decade after I arrived here. Serving as a kayak tour guide, I led tourists past the channel marker into Manteo’s Shallowbag Bay and was startled by the construction of sticks, grass and vines tucked between the triangular markers. Peeking out above this congregation, I saw a small white head with a sharp hooked beak. Soon the mate soared in with a fish securely fixed within its talons. We were beyond ecstatic.

Coastal birds such as pelicans, osprey, egrets and herons not only enrich our lives but also serve as harbingers and heralds of coming change. Whether it be observing their feeding and nesting before a storm, their migrations at the turn of the season, or the literal “canary in a coalmine” warning us of dangerous conditions, birds have a lot to tell us.

Now birds are telling us that changes to our climate are fraying the web of life that binds us all together. Audubon’s latest climate science tells us that two-thirds of North America’s bird species are threatened by rising temperatures and more extreme weather. Nearly half of the 200 species that depend on Audubon’s Pine Island sanctuary will see their ranges dwindle substantially, making them vulnerable to extinction. Sea level rise adds to this vulnerability, threatening to destroy critical habitat along the coast—places where birds feed, mate, and raise their young. Species at risk include beloved birds like the tundra swan, American oystercatcher, and green-winged teal.

As climate changes, birds, who have specific habitat and climate preferences, must change too. They must move. But does the new location have both the climate and habitat they need? How will competition with other species living there affect them? More American white pelicans are now showing up on the Outer Banks. What will the presence of these larger birds mean for the smaller local brown pelicans? These are difficult questions to answer, but it is clear that change is upon us.

There is still hope. We know this because we’ve been here before. As in times past, good-hearted individuals can band together, taking actions such as planting native plants, restoring habitat and turning lights out when buildings aren’t in use to save energy and reduce bird collisions with windows. These individual actions are critical, but so is broader collective action.

Audubon’s climate science tells us that if we limit future temperature increases, the odds of survival improve for the vast majority of birds at risk. In North Carolina, that means transitioning to cleaner, more renewable energy sources. And we need to make this transition quickly, through ambitious, bipartisan policy.

We have faced similar challenges before and we can do it again. It will take decades for the birds to rebound, but—if we take action now and give them half a chance—rebound they will. Resiliency is the nature of nature.

On a tiny fragment of our coast, on a narrow stretch of sand surrounded by water, pounded by storms, together we can ensure a future where children and birds alike play in the waves.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

When we drill, we spill. And when we spill oil offshore, we tarnish our oceans with a disgusting, dirty stain.

It’s been an eventful week for North Carolina as the eastern part of the state recovers from Hurricane Dorian. While the storm wreaked havoc on Ocracoke and Hatteras Island among other parts of the Outer Banks, islands in the Bahamas withstood the brunt of the destruction as winds reached a peak speed of over 200 mph. As the storm made its way north, its ferocity lessened, but its legacy has had ripple effects that continue to be felt today.

The Norwegian oil company, Equinor, has revealed that the storm blew off the dome lids of five of their crude oil storage facilities located on Grand Bahama, holding an estimated 1.8 million barrels of oil (equivalent to 75.6 million gallons). As the storm passed, the winds also swept up oil in its wake, which was deposited in the surrounding area upwards of 400 meters away from the facilities.

Even though the facilities were built to withstand Category 5 hurricanes like Dorian, the lids were designed to come off, as a spokeswoman for the port explained this scenario is better than the lids falling into the tanks themselves. Equinor claims that none of the oil has made it out to sea, but with cleanup efforts still underway, this remains to be seen.

Now why should this concern North Carolinians? Well, I am glad you asked.

In January 2018, the Department of the Interior released a proposal that would open up the entire coastline to oil extraction and environmental degradation. Drilling will not only threaten the way of life of our coastal communities and the wildlife they live in harmony with, but also endanger the recreation industry that brings in valuable tourism revenue for the state every year.

Currently, the DOI’s proposal has been indefinitely sidelined after the new Secretary of the Interior David Bernhardt reported that a recent ruling from a federal judge has “discombobulated” the administration’s efforts. However, the next and potentially final proposal for offshore drilling could be released at a moment’s notice, despite efforts in the nation’s capital to prohibit the activity.

Last week, H.R. 1941 Coastal and Marine Economies Protection Act passed in the House (238-189) with three votes in support from North Carolina’s delegation made by Representatives Adams, Butterfield and Price. The bill prohibits the leasing of tracts in the regions proposed for oil and gas leasing, including the Atlantic Coast, and comes as a direct response to the overwhelming opposition demonstrated by citizens up and down the coast, from Maine to Florida.

In North Carolina alone, over 29 mayors, 200 community groups and local businesses, bipartisan congressional representatives, the Governor, and thousands of concerned citizens have spoken out to oppose these plans. Local resolutions have been passed in municipalities and counties to prohibit the development of onshore infrastructure and underwater piping that offshore rigs would rely upon to transport oil, in addition to the prohibition of seismic testing which must take place during the exploration phase of the extraction process.

However, earlier this year, we lost one of our strongest advocates for protecting our coast. Congressman Walter Jones from North Carolina’s 3rd district passed away this past February, and he was well known for his stance against offshore drilling; he even co-introduced the Defend Our Coast Act as one of his last actions in office. His seat was recently filled by Dr. Greg Murphy, a Greenville urologist who won the special election for the district by a margin of 62-37.

Dr. Murphy was sworn in earlier this week, and he faces a short time in office before he has to file to retain the seat that is up for reelection next fall. Murphy has yet to issue a public statement as to his stance regarding offshore drilling, despite the fact that the question has been raised repeatedly during his campaign for the seat.

Time and time again, we have seen the impacts of extreme weather on oil and gas infrastructure. The Southern Environmental Law Center published a report last fall highlighting the dangers and risks of constructing gas and oil infrastructure in hurricane prone regions. In particular, Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, which struck the same region within the span of a month, destroyed 115 oil platforms, damaged 558 pipelines, and spilled nearly 11 million gallons of crude oil into the Gulf. Furthermore, the ongoing Taylor Energy spill was caused by an underwater landslide triggered by Hurricane Ivan in 2004. The landslide capsized the platform, bankrupted the company through cleanup efforts, and continues to leak between 10,000 and 30,000 gallons of oil every day with no end in sight.

As North Carolina has withstood a seemingly incessant barrage from hurricanes in recent years, specifically Hurricanes Florence, Michael, and Matthew which have now been compounded by Dorian, any proposals to begin the process of oil extraction should come as a nonsensical notion.

Here in North Carolina, we must draw a line in the sand and say no to offshore drilling, and it starts by calling on our newly-elected Representative Murphy to preserve the tradition of protecting our coasts laid out by his predecessor. It is simply not worth jeopardizing our beaches, shores and coastal communities for the pursuit of oil we increasingly don’t need.

As my fellow North Carolinians prepared for the arrival of Hurricane Dorian earlier this month, many were still reeling from the devastation that Hurricane Florence inflicted upon communities and businesses last year. And that’s to say nothing of the misery that Hurricane Matthew wrought upon residents two years before that – or the smaller flooding events that are now challenging folks with more regularity.

As we work toward recovery, we need to think about how we adjust to this new normal and build resilience in the face of increasingly intense storms and sea level rise.

As Gov. Roy Cooper said when testifying before the U.S. House Natural Resources Committee in February, “When storms are becoming more destructive, it’s not enough to pick up the pieces. We must take action to prevent this kind of devastation in the future.”

Moving forward toward resilience

Because the future will look a lot different, we can no longer look to the past for solutions. But we can build a future in which people and nature thrive, even as the planet changes. Here are four approaches to secure a resilient future for North Carolina’s communities, farms and ecosystems:

Let science and modeling lead

Substantial federal funding is flowing to North Carolina from Hurricanes Matthew and Florence disaster appropriations. To move the region toward resilience, some of these funds should be dedicated to expanding hydrologic models and data collection to implement flood reduction projects and to coordinate local stakeholders in developing locally driven solutions.

North Carolina State University researchers, working with the Environmental Defense Fund, the state Department of Transportation and others, are developing new hydrologic models to evaluate the potential flood reduction benefit to downstream communities from installing nature-based features on farmland. These models will be critical for ongoing community conversations as town leaders engage with agricultural landowners to find shared, local solutions.

Engage locals to design shared solutions

Thankfully, there is a significant consensus emerging from diverse constituencies for doing things differently. Over the past year, local communities, farmers and government officials have begun exploring new strategies to meet the current challenges. This includes holding more water where it falls and storing it away from homes, businesses and critical infrastructure.

Dedicate funding to natural infrastructure

Natural infrastructure can be built quickly and across the landscape to help limit the impacts of flooding. This infrastructure includes farm ponds to hold excess waters, new wetlands, stream restoration to reconnect floodplains, tree planting along riparian corridors to slow water and other features to make landscapes spongier.

Ensure coordination at all levels of government

Over the past 12 months, North Carolina has taken important steps toward a more resilient future. Republican leaders in the legislature created a new agency, the North Carolina Office of Recovery and Resilience, to coordinate recovery and resilience efforts across state government. As part of this effort, North Carolina became the first state to hire a chief resilience officer with the task of planning beyond the current recovery to consider how to reduce impacts from future events.

On this one-year anniversary of Hurricane Florence, North Carolina must remember all those who are still suffering, while celebrating the important progress we have made. Now – before the next storm — is the time to redouble our efforts and investments in making North Carolina stronger and more resilient as we adapt to a new normal of weather.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

“I like to fish recreationally, but if I can help feed somebody, I definitely would jump on any and every chance to do that,” a recreational fisherman from Carteret County said. “If I catch anything that I know somebody can eat, I take it to them. I know a lot of hungry people.”

This was a fairly typical comment collected over the past year by three graduate students in Duke University’s Coastal Environmental Management program. The “Fishing for Food” master’s project that I helped spearhead interviewed 80 recreational fishers to see what we could learn.

Preliminary research showed that while this area has had a reputation as a fishing region for centuries, little effort has gone into understanding the values, motives, and perceptions associated with recreational fishing for food. That is why Alexie Rudman, Maggie Chory, and I decided to make it the focus of our master’s project.

Now that we’ve presented our results and received our degrees, it’s time to share what we found with the community it affects.

Among the many things we learned in our interviews conducted on public infrastructure in Carteret County — specifically the Newport River pier and the Grayden Paul Bridge — is that a large percentage of folks fish to supplement their diet. For many, it’s an important source of food. And beyond that, many who fish share what they catch with others who might face food insecurity.

And, before going on, I should say that after we conducted most of our interviews, the Grayden Paul drawbridge was torn down, which removed an important site for the subsistence fishing population.

Although we studied a variety of values and perceptions relative to subsistence fishing, perhaps the most important thing we discovered that could have implications along North Carolina’s coast involves the availability of a subsistence fishing license waiver of which only a few of the fishers we spoke with were aware.

This waiver is formally known as a “Unified Subsistence Inland/Coastal Recreational Fishing License Waiver.” Upon request, this waiver can be issued by the county’s Department of Social Services to individuals who receive benefits from food stamps, Medicaid, or the North Carolina Department of Health and Human Services’ Work First Family Assistance. It is important to note that this waiver is not issued through the Wildlife Resource Commission — the folks who oversee the fishing license program — but must be requested specifically through the county’s Department of Social Services, or DSS.

Why is this important? Well, if a person is fishing to put food on the table, a $15 fishing license can be a major expense.

In our semi-structured interviews of fishers, we asked whether they were aware of the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality license waivers for individuals on food stamps, Medicaid or Work First Family Assistance. Of those interviewed, only a handful acknowledged they were explicitly aware of the subsistence license waiver.

When we asked a follow-up question: “Would knowledge of availability of the waiver be valuable to people who fish here?” the answer was an overwhelming “yes.”

“I mean there’s a lot of people that fish down here because they need to supplement their food stores in their house,” said one fisherman. “So, if they knew they were able to get a free fishing license … more people would probably be out here.”

“This pier, in particular, draws a lot of local folks whose resources are limited,” said a different fisher on the Newport River pier. “So yeah, I absolutely believe it would be beneficial.”

As a result of our research, we recommended that recreational fishers who meet the requirements of the subsistence license waiver (1) be made aware that it exists, and (2) be made aware of where and how to obtain one. In order to achieve these goals, we contacted the Carteret County DSS and presented our results and suggestions.

Cindy Holman, consolidated human services director of Carteret County DSS, accepted our suggestions and said the department is working to make the subsistence license waivers more visible to those who might benefit from them. In addition to posters already displayed in the lobby, DSS generated a press release that was distributed to all Health Department and DSS staff, the Consolidated Human Services Board, and 18 media contacts to help educate the community about the subsistence waivers. DSS is also researching the possibility of providing staff with a flyer or brochure that could be distributed when taking applications for Food and Nutrition Service (FNS), Medicaid, or Work First Family Assistance.

It is important to note that citizens are not eligible for the fishing license waiver when they are applying for benefits, but only after they have been approved or found to be eligible for FNS, Medicaid or Work First Family Assistance. DSS staff urges clients to return upon approval to obtain one.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

I’ve been fishing and duck hunting all my life and for the last 20 years, in wild lands around the Currituck Sound. When I moved here after college, I fell in love with this area. I worked off-seasons and winters as a hunting and fishing guide — my dream job. As I grew up and entered into other businesses, I continued to guide for enjoyment and to help make ends meet for my family.

As the years have ticked by, I’ve observed how the watershed has changed. Coupled with sea level rise and the corresponding rise in sound level, I’ve watched the lands I love disappear before my eyes.

As the climate and weather patterns change, so must our approach to managing habitat, water and wildlife. Even though climate change is a global-scale issue, there are things we can – and should – do at a local level to manage and minimize its impacts.

A turning point for me was back in 2017 when we discovered that developers in Virginia along with the City of Virginia Beach were pumping 13 million gallons a day of polluted runoff water into the headwaters of the Currituck Sound. They were using the Currituck Sound as their gutter, and it had to be stopped.

I was compelled to help. I started communicating with my local state elected representatives and they were quick to lend a hand in calling for Virginia Beach to find a more suitable solution. I became even more cognizant of the need to help our own area manage runoff and other water issues better in order to preserve our sounds as much as possible. These are issues that all coastal areas are dealing with more and more, and we all need better solutions.

The sound side is a specific area of focus. Sound side water levels have been rising every year and are now higher than they’ve ever been. Ocean levels are rising, too, but the sound side is rising at an estimated rate of three times higher.

We’ve changed the hydrology of the system, as heavy rainfall brings a hard-fast flush of water through ditches and pipes from our urban, suburban and agricultural lands much more quickly to our sounds than nature intended, which raises the water level. Once the fast flow stops, windblown tides move the higher than normal water up and down the sound, mixing with salt water from the open sound in a flush-and-back-flow cycle. It can change the entire ecosystem. Instead of a long, slow filtering route through the landscape, the freshwaters are moved quickly to the sound, leaving no long-slow-flow to keep the saltwater at bay. The cycle of higher water inundates wooded low-lying forestland and rises over top of our marshes, which changes wildlife habitats. When wildlife no longer has the habitat it needs, over time it changes their migratory patterns. Birds that were once common, such as the Black Duck and Clapper Rails, now make their seasonal homes elsewhere or are in decline.

One of the single most significant steps we can take to manage this issue is to develop new ways to move water off our roads, farms and suburban landscapes. Hurricanes and storms producing heavy rainfall have become the new normal. We have more flooding events today to manage, and it’s no surprise that when an area floods, we want to drain the water off as quickly as possible.

These days, a lot of that runoff goes directly into our waterways that feed the sound, raising the water levels and contributing to that overflow of sea water inland. A standard rate of flow used by scientists is that water should move in a natural fashion in low-lying coastal lands about one inch per hour until it hits natural waterways.

When you implement techniques that force water to move unnaturally fast, you’re asking more of the ecosystem than it can handle, setting the stage for unnecessary harm and preventing aquifer replenishment. Implementation of step-ditches and water-control devices as well as restored wetlands would help restore natural flow while filtering out contaminants and helping to replenish our aquifers. These techniques can be used statewide, not just at the coast.

Marshlands are a critical element of the inland ecosystems that need to be protected. Over the last year, I’ve been working on new techniques to augment natural sedimentation to raise the marshes in a way that doesn’t require dredging or disturb the bottom in areas within the marsh. We’ve been experimenting with ways to build up sediment in the marsh beds to act as a defensive layer against the rising tide and increased wave activity. Work is underway now in partnership with The Nature Conservancy to help solve this problem. If we can restore marshlands, we can help protect that part of the ecosystem and perhaps preserve the habitats of the wildlife and plant life that are part of our coastal heritage.

North Carolina’s coast is my home. I’m raising my family here and, watching the lands change so quickly because of our changing climate and land use practices, I make a point to take my son out as much as possible because I fear that during his lifetime much of that land will erode into the water. That’s a tough fact to swallow. When the vast majority of our landscape and roads are drained in unnatural ways that speed up that process, I know there is still work to be done. There are a lot of folks doing a lot of good things to try to reduce the impact of rising waters, and I intend to be part of the effort. I won’t just sit back and watch these lands we love melt away into the sound.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

On a blustery morning in May, I stood on a “hill” overlooking Maeslantkering. Holland doesn’t have any real hills. I know what I stood on – soil dredged and formed into a small mountain. Road cyclists circled us, training on the only elevation they can find in their backyard.

The name Maeslantkering contains the Dutch suffix “kering,” meaning “gate.” This structure is the gate to end all gates. The supreme gate. It sits in two pieces on either side of the Maas river. The wind whips up white caps as container ships pass by. Rotterdam – and its commanding port – is just to our west.

The gate came to exist here as a solution to one of Holland’s water challenges. Following a deadly flood in 1953, The Netherlands was devastated. The waters took about 2,000 lives and wreaked havoc. About a quarter of the country is below sea level. Storms coming from the north, as this one did, push vast amounts of water down the rivers and over the dikes.

I tried to compare storms but found these fronts from the north are nothing like hurricanes or cyclones. Cold arctic winds stir up trouble leaving Iceland and push the North Sea to its brink.

The Dutch vowed “never again,” and they stuck to their word through the decades. Maeslantkering came online in 1997, and it was the final and most complicated piece of the puzzle.

Other flooding solutions in the Netherlands are forever – think dams or dikes. The Maas river had a unique set of needs. Blocking it – permanently or partially – was completely out of the question. Rotterdam made that crystal clear. The port won’t slow down at all.

Behold the solution. Beyond the Keringhuis welcome center is an enormous white structure sitting peacefully on the riverbank, and it’s twin lies on the other bank.

Each wing of the Maeslantkering is just as long as the Eiffel Tower is tall. At its base is a rounded cuff of metal sitting in a perfectly curved slip. At its tip is a single, massive pivot point created out of 1.5 million pounds of steel and concrete.

When deployed, each wing pivots, extending the rounded cuffs out toward each other. It takes a few minutes to get each wing into position, but the port isn’t protected yet. Doors open at the base of each cuff, allowing the river to rush in and displace the air. The Maeslantkering slowly sinks to the base of the river. It’ll rest on a specially made platform to keep the gate level and safe. In the final moments of its submersion, the power of the river itself blasts away any sediment that’s piled on the platform.

As if that wasn’t impressive enough, know it’s a robot. This gate is designed to deploy automatically in the worst-case scenario.

Having just watched the coast of North Carolina struggle through hurricanes Matthew, Florence and Michael, I couldn’t help but feel a bond. The power of water is humbling. The odds feel insurmountable. But the rewards of living in such a place? Worth the risk.

The Dutch have a saying. “God created the world but the Dutch created the Netherlands.” For better or worse, these communities are committed to this remote flatland. Innovation is the only way to survive. Home is home.

People continue to “create the Netherlands” every day with their own small-scale stormwater projects. I was tickled to find rain barrels, pervious pavement, green roofs and other best management practices on display at the Keringhuis. These look familiar.

The risks of stormwater feel familiar as well. In the event that a big rain event comes from the south, the Rhine will be swollen and dangerous as it enters the Netherlands. Every home has a stake in absorbing some of their own runoff to make sure the river stays at safe levels. As a bonus, every home has access to subsidies if they use low-impact development techniques.

They are evolving just as North Carolina is evolving. Damming large bodies of water brought the Netherlands safety, but today’s leaders question the ecological effects (spoiler: they weren’t great). Natural hydrology can’t be beat. Sometimes it can even be a smarter investment.

The new Dutch manner of thinking is called “Building with Nature.” My favorite example of this approach is the Zandmotor, quite literally, sand motor.

On the remote ocean shoreline, dune health is critical. The challenge is: sand moves. Waves reclaim it. Dutch ships would pump sand from the ocean floor up onto the beach over and over, along the whole shoreline. “I know this. It’s beach renourishment,” I thought to myself.

But the Dutch wanted to cut costs. Instead, one ship pumped all the sand into one spot: a giant reservoir of sand in a carefully chosen location. Then, they let the sea do the rest. In theory, the waves will carry the sand along the beach, adequately renourishing the breadth of the shore. Time will tell.

I was stunned. I presumed there was only one way to do it. Learning about this alternative was thrilling.

That’s my biggest takeaway: there’s plenty of room to think outside the box. As North Carolina recovers and rolls forward, what new ideas will we uncover? We need to be ready to work smarter, not harder.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

If you’re not following the latest legislative debates in Raleigh, you should – the private property rights of landowners and much-needed economic development opportunities for rural communities are at stake. Legislation was recently introduced in the N.C. General Assembly, Senate Bill 377, which seeks to ban “construction, operation or expansion of wind energy facilities” in 29 counties spanning across all of eastern North Carolina, no questions asked.

The bill sponsors say that they’re trying to protect our military with this total ban of future wind energy projects; however, they’re ignoring an existing review process by military officials that ensures all wind projects do not pose any threat to nearby military operations or training. Period.

This is not an “either/or” choice that our legislators – or North Carolinians – have to make. We can have both, and most importantly, our rural communities across eastern North Carolina can benefit from the economic investments and opportunities of both the military and wind energy industries.

Despite the fact that wind power is relatively “new” to the Tar Heel State, with the Amazon Wind Farm’s 104 turbines generating power near Elizabeth City since early 2017, there are currently more than 56,800 wind turbines located in 41 states. Wind power has more than tripled over the last decade and it now makes up the largest source of renewable energy in our nation. And, many of the states with the largest number of wind farms are also states with very large military bases and operations – i.e. Texas (144 wind projects), Colorado (26) and California (107).

The latest attack on wind energy via Senate Bill 377 falls short of protecting North Carolina’s military bases. In fact, if passed, it would hurt our state’s economy, keep our citizens from accessing good-paying jobs, and limit the options for powering our homes and businesses with clean, renewable energy.

North Carolina’s military bases are already protected from potential impacts of wind farms through an extensive vetting process established by the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) in 2011 and strengthened recently by the U.S. Congress and signed into law by President Trump. This process, called the Siting Clearinghouse, prevents construction of any proposed wind project that poses significant adverse impacts to military training or operations. DoD, in conjunction with all affected bases, reviews every project proposal and, if risks cannot be mitigated, the project is not approved. Military officials themselves govern this process. They know their needs, have sophisticated modeling capabilities, and I trust that their experts are capable of doing their jobs.

In some cases, their fear campaign forced developers to abandon potential wind projects in northeastern North Carolina, keeping our most rural and economically-challenged counties from enjoying the tax benefits wind farms bring, and denying landowners their private property rights.

The Amazon Wind Farm U.S. East is currently North Carolina’s only wind farm. It went through the Siting Clearinghouse process before it was built, and in its two years of operation it has never posed a threat to the training and mission of local military bases. The wind farm has provided only positive value for Perquimans and Pasquotank counties, to the tune of 500 construction jobs, 17 permanent jobs with an average salary of $80,000, and more than $18 million invested in local businesses. The project is the largest taxpayer in both counties. And, one of my favorite stories to share – there are 60 different landowners receiving lease payments for hosting wind turbines on their property, which are often a lifeline for farmers who otherwise are at the mercy of unpredictable weather and commodity pricing variants.

North Carolina has already suffered economic losses due to an unnecessary 18-month moratorium on wind projects, which expired in December. Prospective wind project developers and landowners watched from the sidelines as wind opponents weaved their story, raising an unfounded fear of impacts to national security. In some cases, their fear campaign forced developers to abandon potential wind projects in northeastern North Carolina, keeping our most rural and economically-challenged counties from enjoying the tax benefits wind farms bring, and denying landowners their private property rights.

It’s too late to do anything about the opportunities that have already been lost, but we can do something about the current and future opportunities on our doorstep. We can urge our legislators to vote against this legislation, Senate Bill 377, sending a message to landowners and wind project developers that North Carolina is open for business. There is far more opportunity to protect North Carolina by voting against this bill than voting for it. We can recruit these new and much-needed economic opportunities to our rural eastern North Carolina communities, all while knowing our state’s military bases already have the protections and assurance that wind energy will not impede their valuable work.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Learn More

• Southeastern Wind Coalition

As directed by President Donald Trump in 2017, the Environmental Protection Agency and the Department of the Army on Dec. 11, 2018, signed a proposed rule revising the definition of “waters of the United States” addressing federal authority under the Clean Water Act. The agencies’ proposal is the second step in a two-step process to review and revise the definition of “WOTUS” consistent with the president’s executive order to replace the approach in the 2015 Rule and the pre-2015 regulations. A 60-day public comment period on the revision is set to close April 15. Today’s guest column addresses the proposed changes.

— The editor.

We repeat past mistakes when we ignore history. That is exactly what the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency is doing as it proposes to dramatically roll back safeguards for wetlands all over eastern North Carolina.

Long before we were born, unregulated wetland destruction did staggering damage to our coast. In the 1970s, large corporations ditched and drained more than 200,000 acres of wetlands near estuaries. Fish and shellfish suffered from the resulting runoff and pollution.

In response to this growing controversy, federal and state lawmakers and agencies finally stopped many of these wetland conversions. They recognized that it was necessary to protect wetlands to maintain water quality and fisheries—common sense that was also a legal obligation under the federal Clean Water Act and state environmental laws.

After this enforcement of environmental laws stopped many wetland losses, what began was a lot of cooperative work by landowners, government agencies, scientists, sportsmen, and conservation interests to better manage existing drainage systems, and to protect and restore hundreds of thousands of acres of wetlands in eastern North Carolina. The federal and state governments have worked as partners over the following decades, investing hundreds of millions of dollars to repair past wetland damage and to make our coast more resilient against hurricanes, saltwater intrusion and flooding.

Those efforts made it possible for us to pursue our calling as commercial fishermen. While there is still way too much polluted runoff entering our coastal waters, stronger wetland safeguards and important restoration programs that came about since President Richard Nixon signed the federal Clean Water Act have done a lot of good. They have protected many of our remaining wetlands and have restored hundreds of thousands of acres of previously drained wetlands and streams to enhance their ability to filter and absorb polluted runoff into our coastal waterways. While not perfect, these laws and programs give fishermen like us the confidence to pursue our commercial careers. We earn a good living providing seafood to North Carolina’s residents and visitors. As young entrepreneurs, we are the new generation of working watermen.

Life as a commercial fisher isn’t easy. We battle weather that seems to grow more extreme each year and face severe business pressures including competition from foreign imports and management questions about how best to allocate and regulate the seafood we catch. The biggest threat to our livelihood, however, is degradation of water quality and fisheries habitats. We can’t earn a living if estuaries are no longer fertile and safe places to grow and harvest seafood.

This regulatory rollback proposed by EPA to eliminate most existing regulatory safeguards for wetlands in our state will extinguish our fishing industry. We know from the past experiences of our fishing forefathers that no wetlands means no seafood. Our existing laws ensure that everyone does their part to keep our estuaries healthy. Those estuaries collect water from thousands of small streams and wetlands as far inland as Durham and Raleigh. Without essential protections, the estuaries we fish will not only be jeopardized by wetland loss in the coastal plain, but by all of the pollution that flows downstream.

Speak up and help stop this irresponsible proposal before it destroys our coast.  As fishermen we will be the first to see the damage if EPA has its way, but rest assured it will have far reaching negative impacts on everyone who depends upon our coast as a place to live, work and play.

Learn More

• Key changes in the proposed revision
• Register a comment for Docket ID No. EPA-HQ-OW-2018-0149.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

CRAB POINT – The Newport River, one of the state’s most productive estuaries, known for its tasty oysters, is in trouble. Growing up, I worked my father’s oyster leases there. When I’m not practicing law, I still try to farm there today. For many decades this estuary supported families like mine through its dependable abundance of shellfish and fish. Sadly, those days seem to be coming to an end, unless we can make significant changes that protect this amazing natural asset for future generations.

Hurricane Florence dealt a devastating blow to the Newport River. It brought several feet of tidal storm surge and approximately 30 inches of rain to Morehead City, Newport and Beaufort. This, combined with persistently higher tides that push up groundwater levels and saturate the soils, resulted in high levels of bacteria, threatening public health and shellfish-growing waters. Since shellfish may be eaten raw, shellfish harvest is closed when pollution levels exceed state standards in order to prevent disease and sickness. The river was closed after Florence hit, and much of it remains closed to this day.

Hurricane Florence merely exacerbated pre-existing water quality problems in North Carolina’s coastal waters. In 2017, 34 percent of all shellfish growing areas were closed to harvest, and that number rises steadily each year. Polluted runoff itself is a significant contributing factor, caused when we ditch, drain or harden the coastal landscape. Instead of soaking into the ground and being absorbed by vegetation, a much larger amount of rain now runs into creeks and sounds. Our streets and highways, with their drainage systems, are major polluters. This runoff contains bacteria and all kinds of pollutants including suspended solids, heavy metals, nutrients, and pathogens, which are the leading causes for impaired coastal surface waters. This pollution causes health concerns and economic losses in shellfish and recreation waters.

To help restore coastal estuaries, the N.C. Department of Transportation (NCDOT) worked with N.C. State University on a stormwater retrofit project on N.C. 211 in Brunswick County, which successfully reduced the stormwater runoff that flowed into the Lockwood Folly River, reducing the volume of bacteria and other pollutants. This project will hopefully serve as a business case for NCDOT to install retrofits on all its ditches that flow into the Newport River to help restore its water quality.

The North Carolina Coastal Federation collaborated with Wilmington and Wrightsville Beach to develop a watershed restoration plan that focuses on installing stormwater retrofit projects, reducing the stormwater runoff flowing into creeks. These projects are reducing the amount of runoff by 50 to 90 percent in some watershed areas, proving the case that if we make the investment, we can restore water quality and maintain our coastal waters as productive places for growing shellfish.

But our coastal communities cannot tackle this alone. Pollution control strategies for stormwater and sewage become much less effective when “normal” weather patterns become extreme. They simply can’t function effectively when heavier rains and higher tides completely saturate the land. It turns out that farming shellfish helps remove carbon from the atmosphere and scrubs the crud out of our waters. Investing in the health of our estuaries clearly has many benefits both for our coastal communities and the country.

We need our state lawmakers to act on water quality recommendations that protect shellfish farms. We need NCDOT and municipalities to significantly expand the number of installations of stormwater retrofit each year throughout our coastal landscape. We need to reduce the volume of polluted runoff reaching coastal waters if the Newport River and its sister estuaries are to be saved. The integrity and health of our coast are at stake. Not only are existing and potential jobs and economic benefits of the shellfish industry at stake, but also ultimately our entire coastal economy including tourism will suffer dramatic losses if we don’t multiply considerably our efforts to protect coastal water quality. We must act with urgency if we have any hope of ensuring that locally caught seafood will remain a North Carolina legacy and delicacy.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

WILMINGTON — Having worked in the mining industry around the world, I know firsthand both the potential benefits and almost certain liabilities that mining activities can have on local and regional communities. The oil industry is no exception and is particularly known for making glowing promises of jobs and other economic development opportunities to local and regional civic leaders only to have these specious vows fail to materialize into any meaningful benefit. Our own community of Wilmington understands all too well what happens when we place our civic trust in corporations who promise they will do no harm, when in fact they are knowingly poisoning our air and water supplies.

After spending years in this industry, I have learned that the inherent risks to the environment and general populace from mining operations – as small as a sand mine and as large as an oil drilling initiative – far outweigh any purported direct or indirect economic benefits that may have been promised.  With the exclusion of any future royalty payments for oil and gas extracted from their coastal waters, the only real benefits will flow to the already heavily subsidized oil and gas industry.

In its recent authorization to allow seismic air gun blasting in the Atlantic Ocean from New Jersey to Florida, the Trump Administration has willfully ignored the critical 2017 decision by the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management that concluded “… the value of obtaining the geophysical and geological information from new air gun seismic surveys in the Atlantic does not outweigh the potential risks of those surveys …” It has also willfully ignored comments made by every East Coast governor save one, Republican and Democrat alike, who have publicly opposed seismic testing and oil exploration off their coasts; it ignored the years of scientific assessment and hundreds of thousands of public comments that led to the original moratorium on any offshore oil exploration in the Atlantic.  And it ignored me, along with representatives of 42,000 other businesses along the East Coast who have publicly opposed oil exploration in the Atlantic.

The opposition to offshore oil exploration is widespread and includes more than 500,000 fishing families from Florida to Maine, along with the Pacific, North Pacific, New England, South Atlantic, and Mid-Atlantic Fishery Management Councils.  And even NASA, the Department of Defense, and the Florida Defense Support Task Force have expressed significant concerns that expanded offshore oil and gas development may threaten their ability to perform critical activities or in respect to the DoD, even safely protect the security interests of the United States.

Beyond the mass of opposition, the argument boils down to the simplest measure of good business: discerning the levels of supply and demand of a commodity.  The overly active lobbying arm of the oil and gas industry claims we need this oil to maintain reserves amid unrest in the Middle East and to keep gas prices manageable. In reality, U.S. oil production is set to hit a record 11 million barrels a day by 2019, according to the latest figures from the U.S. Energy Information Administration.  And the majority of our imported oil comes from Canada – not the Middle East.  Moreover, the industry itself is not even buying proven lease blocks that have already been identified. At a March 2018 auction in the Gulf, said to be the largest lease sale of oil and gas blocks in history, less than 1 percent of the blocks offered were bid upon. Secretary of Interior Ryan Zinke said this sale would be a ‘bellwether’ for what to expect going forward.

Finally, business leaders like myself around the globe are waking to the simple reality that we can no longer ignore the clear and present threats from global climate change. The report released in October by the United Nation’s science panel warns that to avoid catastrophic consequences to life and property, which they estimate may cost as much as $54 trillion, we must transform the world economy at a speed and scale that has “no documented historic precedent.” And while this may require that we modify our personal and business reliance on fossil fuels, an obligatory step in this transformation is to leave any and all potential fossil fuel reserves in the ground.

This issue hits particularly close to home for our region. Climate change has and will continue to increase the intensity and frequency of storms like Hurricane Florence, which brought enough rain to be categorized as a 1000-year flood event; to match the 1000-year flood event we experienced in 1997 with Hurricane Fran.  And it was just two years ago that we experienced a 500-year flood event when Hurricane Matthew swept through. Economic losses from both recent hurricanes are estimated to reach nearly $60 billion.

Business and community leaders recognize that the smart money is on renewable energy now. And it’s time that we demand our energy companies, our business communities and state governments invest in those renewable resources and infrastructure that will not only create new, safe jobs for our region, but will also pose no threat to our current businesses, our quality-of-life, nor our children’s future.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

The devastating impacts of Hurricane Florence to residents and businesses in eastern North Carolina remind us of just how vulnerable the state is to severe storms and flooding. Hurricane Florence produced torrential rains causing severe flooding that breached levees, closed major roads and inundated entire communities. Thousands of homes in the eastern part of the state were destroyed.

Unfortunately, many of those impacts were felt most acutely in the regions of the state that were still in the process of recovering from Hurricane Matthew, which struck in October 2016. Many of the homes that flooded from Florence had also flooded from Matthew and some of these same homes had even flooded before during Hurricanes Fran and Floyd in the late 1990s.

To reduce the risks of future flooding, communities across the state have been acquiring and removing the most vulnerable homes from the floodplain. These acquisitions, known as buyouts, are funded primarily by the Federal Emergency Management Administration (FEMA). Since the 1990s, FEMA has funded the acquisition of over 50,000 homes, including some 5,000 homes in North Carolina.

By removing homes from harm’s way, buyouts can permanently reduce a community’s vulnerability to flooding.

Homes that are acquired with FEMA funds must be removed or demolished and the land protected in perpetuity as open space. By removing homes from harm’s way, buyouts can permanently reduce a community’s vulnerability to flooding. However, buyouts also can reduce the local tax base and stick local governments with the bill for maintaining the now-vacant properties. Since buyouts are strictly voluntary, not all eligible homeowners participate, thus limiting the use of the acquired lands. The most common use of buyout lands is vacant lots. Although some communities, such as Charlotte and Rocky Mount, have created parks, community gardens and greenways.

In response to Hurricane Matthew, over the last year we have been leading a team of researchers at UNC-Chapel Hill to study and identify ways to improve floodplain buyouts in North Carolina.

The goals of the study were to estimate the net financial impacts of buyouts on local governments in North Carolina and to explore the factors that might motivate people to participate in a buyout.

The project examined the impact of buyouts in eight communities: Charlotte, Greenville, Kinston, Lumberton, Raleigh, Rocky Mount, Seven Springs and Windsor. These communities vary in size from Seven Springs (pop. 110) to Charlotte (pop. 842,051). As part of the study we met with local officials, created GIS maps of buyout areas, and collected financial data to estimate the loss of tax base and the costs associated with maintaining the buyout properties.

We also tried to estimate the savings, or avoided losses, that the buyouts will provide during future floods. What expenses will the community not incur because the acquired homes will no longer be there to flood?

Our research findings suggest the financial impact of a buyout varies by community and depends on a number of factors, including:

• The spatial pattern of the buyout. For example, many buyouts resemble a checkerboard, with vacant homes interspersed among occupied houses.  With this pattern of acquisition, most communities simply plant grass on the vacant lots and mow regularly. This can be costly, with few environmental benefits.
• Future use of the property. Some communities have created a community amenity, such as a park, out of the acquired lands.  Others simply lease the isolated, vacant lots to adjacent landowners. The spatial pattern of the buyout largely determines what the community can do with the land afterwards.
• Where people go. If buyout participants leave the community, then the community suffers a loss of tax base.  In many cases, participants are able to find replacement housing within the community. Everyone benefits if communities can quickly help buyout participants find local and non-flood prone housing.
• What costs get reimbursed. Federal and state grants often cover the bulk of local expenses during buyouts if they are in response to
• State or federally-declared disasters. In cases where flooding is localized, local governments can be made to foot much more of the bill.

Our final report contains a number of recommendations, including the need to develop incentives at the state level that allow for efficient and complete buyouts rather than a scattershot approach.  Importantly, policies and funding should support participants in the buyout to relocate to affordable housing as close as possible to their existing community (and in areas that are not prone to flooding).

As state lawmakers and state agency officials begin the long process of helping communities recover from Hurricane Florence, improving the flood plain buyout process offers an opportunity to make the state more resilient for future storms and protect residents in vulnerable areas.

Learn More

• Read the full report

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

In a recent Op-Ed, environmental engineer Jason West implored the media to make the connection between intensifying storms and climate change. I couldn’t agree more.

Just talking about the devastation of Hurricane Florence is not enough. It is important to put it in context: we must prepare for this kind of storm intensity in a warming world.

Scientists are cautious by nature – and over my years of reporting, the most cautious of these that I’ve met are climate scientists. Modeling our planet’s climate is a difficult task, but it is improving rapidly.

We now know that warming oceans evaporate more water into the atmosphere, fueling stronger storms like Florence. Early estimates are that, due to climate change, Florence was almost 50 miles larger in diameter and dropped about 50 percent more rain in the most intense parts of the storm.

It is important for the media to make these connections in order to jumpstart conversations about solutions. The more we talk about the facts of climate change, the more empowered we will feel to find ways to fight it.

In my travels, the place I have seen most prepared for these challenges is the Netherlands. This low-lying nation has a history of flooding, and sea level rise has only made matters worse.

The Dutch have several initiatives to tackle this problem. Across the mouth of several key inlets, huge physical barriers have been built. These concrete storm walls and gates slam shut when the sea threatens to surge inland.

In addition to these hard defenses, soft defense strategies have also been implemented in the Netherlands. A buy-back program encourages residents in flood-prone areas to move away, allowing waterways to swell without endangering human lives and property.

Instead of fighting nature tooth and nail, the Dutch are adapting to the new normal of living with climate change. Now, New York City is interested in these tactics. After Superstorm Sandy devastated the region in 2012, the Big Apple is learning from the Dutch how to handle rising sea levels and severe storms.

Several massive flood gate projects modeled after those in the Netherlands are on the table.

The boardwalk on Rockaway Beach has been rebuilt to better protect against Sandy-like storms. In Jamaica Bay, islands are being restored and marsh grass cultivated to provide natural speed bumps to surging wind and water.

The damage from climate change is here and North Carolina needs to adapt quickly to this reality. Perhaps like New York, North Carolina can learn how to manage destructive flooding from Dutch experts.

To make this happen, we need more people on the same page. Climate change affects all stakeholders, not just coastal real estate interests.

To learn more about the problems and solutions to climate change in North Carolina, my team and I have partnered with the nonprofit advocacy group Clean Air Carolina to create a series of short films on the subject.

I will be showing these, and speaking to those featured in the films, Sept. 27 at Motorco in Durham. Hope to see you there–be you legislators, scientists, artists, doctors, or just concerned North Carolinians.

Learn More

• Clean Air North Carolina
• Miles O’Brien

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

The world mourned in March as the last male northern white rhino, Sudan, passed away.

Guarded continuously by armed patrols, Sudan was euthanized and laid to rest as the last male of its kind – a clan of rhino that lived for millions of years and withstood every challenge except humanity. With only two females remaining, the northern white rhino is now staring down the barrel of certain extinction and represents, as Sudan’s caretakers put it, “a cautionary tale for humanity.” If we’re to prevent another human failure of this kind, we must use its passing as an opportunity to speak not only for other globally imperiled species, but for those in our own backyards. For North Carolinians, that means raising our voices on behalf of the red wolf.

A small handful of anti-wolf landowners have applauded this calamitous proposal. In their view, the red wolf’s disappearance would benefit private landowners in the recovery area. The science, however, suggests the opposite.

Since the red wolf makes regular meals of nest predators like raccoons, it’s believed that turkey and quail populations are higher in the Red Wolf Recovery Area than elsewhere. The red wolf also preys upon invasive nutria that otherwise damage crops and as the larger of the two species and when in healthy numbers, the red wolf will suppress coyotes. As for deer, the annual harvest has increased in the Red Wolf Recovery Area for the past 30 years.

All the evidence suggests that the Red Wolf Recovery Area is, in fact, one of the state’s richest hunting locales.

Yet, what is ultimately at issue here is not a matter of ecology or annual harvests. The real issue before us is one of commitment. The FWS is entrusted with protecting and recovering our nation’s most imperiled wildlife.

In the 1980s, critics thought the red wolf was a lost cause. Back then, according to FWS, the species was already “99 miles down a 100-mile-long road to extinction,” and, to some, the recovery effort seemed hopeless. After only two decades, however, heroic FWS biologists proved the skeptics wrong and accomplished the impossible: with 151 wild wolves, as well as a strong captive population, the species was placed on the road to long-term recovery.

Around that time, though, FWS experienced dramatic shifts within its senior leadership that would ultimately prove fatal. Rather than leaving the program in the hands of recovery biologists, agency administrators in Atlanta, acting on behalf of two anti-wolf landowners and under pressure from the state of North Carolina, brought the program to its knees, ending critically important management efforts that had sustained wolves in the wild. The red wolf population predictably collapsed and today fewer than 45 likely remain in the wild with only 23 known wolves on the landscape, according to the species status assessment.

If the agency moves forward with its latest plan, the wild recovery effort will be drastically curtailed, and the red wolf could become nothing more than a zoo curiosity — a prospect that, for virtually all North Carolinians, is simply unacceptable.

During the latest public comment period, over 55,000 comments were submitted from all 50 states, 99.8 percent of which were opposed to FWS’s plan. Only 25 comments were anti-wolf and only 10 comments backed FWS. Within the recovery area itself, 68.4 percent of landowners voiced their support for the species. Scientists have publicly urged the agency to reconsider, warning that its plan is not supported by science and is a sure-fire recipe for extinction.

In eastern North Carolina, we are blessed with an abundance of wildlife. Home to black bears, alligators, huge flocks of game birds, deer and turkey, it is a wildlife paradise. There are few comparable places left on the East Coast. It is also the last holdout of the red wolf’s historical territory, which was once spread throughout the Southeast. As a proud North Carolinian, I find that inspiring. We need only drive 30 minutes from the beach to discover, hidden among the pine forests and swamps, the world’s most endangered wolf.

Just as it took courage to pull the red wolf from the jaws of extinction, it will again take courage for the Fish and Wildlife Service to honor the public trust. It will also take your voice. Contact Acting Regional Director, Mike Oetker, and encourage him to stand by his agency’s hallowed mission and fight for the red wolf – otherwise we can be sure that the species will, like the northern white rhino, become a memory of our wilder past.

FWS Acting Regional Director Mike Oetker: Phone: 404-679-4000

Learn More

• Defenders of Wildlife

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Sylvia tied loose, we nudged her from the comfort of the dock and slid into the night. Gliding smoothly into the darkness gave me a feeling of sudden freedom, a merging with the elements as she swung toward the channel. As captain, I issued my first command, ‘Now sing ye lubbers, else there’ll be no dessert tonight!’”

That’s writer, adventurer Bob Simpson recounting one night of a 25-year tradition he held with a handful of other seasoned watermen of the Crystal Coast – Christmas caroling on Bogue Sound aboard his old wooden boat – the Sylva II.

Early in 2017, I set about to write a story on the Sylvia, the sight of her with Simpson at the helm – familiar and revered by Down Easters for more than 40 years – but after a few days of digging, it was clear this was the story of Sylvia’s longtime captain as much as it was hers. Robert “Bob” Douglas Simpson passed away at the age of 92 in his home off Pelletier Creek on March 28, but his tales, along with his immeasurable contributions to North Carolina and nature-lovers everywhere are interminable.

He captivated me from the start: “So, you’d like me to weave you a tale or two?” he asked at the onset of our interview, and away he went. At 91, he retained an uncanny knack for painting a picture with words.
“He had such a wonderful way of seeing the world,” said his friend and adventure comrade of nearly 50 years, Gene Huntsman. “It showed in his writing, but it also showed in his conversations – out in the wilderness, out on a boat, he would see what other people couldn’t see; he pointed out what was overlooked as commonplace and made you appreciate the world around you.”

Simpson was born in South Dakota and returned there with his wife Mary after dive-bombing as a Marine in World War II, which he said was “… not a good way to make a living.” He was still on active duty and attending college when his mother was killed in an airplane accident, leaving his younger brother orphaned. He and Mary took a chance on a job offer at Captain Bill’s Restaurant in Morehead City and headed across the country with no place to live and his brother Bill in tow.

Arriving virtually penniless, housing options were limited, but over a cup of coffee at Capt. Bill’s, Bob was asked if he’d be interested in living aboard a boat, “… the best living you’ll ever have,” said the man. They walked out to the dock, where he was offered a deal on a 45-foot cruiser called the Silver Spray. Having no boating experience whatsoever, he looked to Mary who said, “I’m game if you are.” They lived on that boat for 17 years.

“It was a different time,” said his brother Bill, who shares his brother’s wry wit and a similar smile in his voice when hearkening back to simpler times. “The Morehead waterfront was entirely different,” he said, “for a while, Bob worked the waterfront as a photographer, catching the boats as they came in; he and Mary developed the pictures in a darkroom they made in the cabin of the boat, and they would charge $1.50 for an 8 by 10.”

After serving in the Korean War and traveling up and down the coast in the Silver Spray, they landed back in Morehead City. In the late 1960s, Mary’s mother came to live with them, and that’s when, as Huntsman puts it, “they swallowed anchor and moved to the shore.” Like everything in Bob’s life, the house comes with a story too: it was an old military surplus building which he had floated over Bogue Sound by barge to his property off Pelletier Creek.

Soon after, by way of a nasty storm known as the Groundhog Day Gale of 1976, Bob was introduced to the boat that many Core Sounders came to know him for – the Sylvia II. An historic charter fishing boat with even more tales to tell than Bob, she was sunk at the Sanitary dock during the night of the storm. Simpson took her off the owner’s hands a day later for $300. After restoring her, Mary and Bob set off for decades of adventures on the Sylvia II, much of it chronicled in Simpson’s book “When the Water Smokes: Tides and Seasons on a Wooden Boat.”

He had found the best way to make a living while living aboard a boat was to write home about it. He shared his observations in two other books, and about 60 years’ worth of columns as the Raleigh News & Observer’s nature correspondent.

“Those weekly outdoor pieces were like a magic carpet that whisked me away to beautiful and exciting locales … (more important, they) instilled in me a love of all things wild and a determination to do whatever I can to preserve and enhance our natural environment,” wrote outdoor writer Ed Wall, in a remembrance of Simpson.

His ability to affect readers’ relationships with nature aligns him with only a handful of other nature writers throughout history. And that is far from his only contribution. He was instrumental in the establishment of the Cape Lookout National Seashore in the 1960s – even providing the first tours to politicians on his World War II amphibious vehicle (which, his brother Bill said he actually camped on when their boat was full of other guests!)

He, along with three others that called themselves the “Fabulous Fisherman of Morehead City,” founded the Big Rock Blue Marlin Tournament to benefit the fisherman and others working the Morehead City waterfront. Mary went door-to-door collecting the first tournament purse – set for $300. Sixty years later, it is now the largest tournament of its kind in the U.S. and offers a $2 million purse. “It’s gone from trying to help the working charter boatman to something for the moneyed class,” Simpson once said.

He was also instrumental in the establishment of the North Carolina Maritime Museum, and the creation of the Skippers’ Roster Memorial in Morehead City, which honors charter captains with 10 or more years on local waters. In 2006, Bob was inducted into the Order of the Long Leaf Pine, North Carolina’s highest civilian honor.

When I spoke with Bob last March, he said he had enough material for three more books that just needed some “finishing touches.”

“You’re very welcome to take a look,” he said, “I’d even furnish a cup of coffee, but just know I’m getting a little creaky with age.”

I had pitched the story about the Sylvia II, having been introduced to her through my husband, a boatwright who was hired by the boat’s current owner, Bob Graham, to work on her restoration. I had no idea how far this story would take me – I got lost in the rich history of the Core Sound, wooden boats and the waterman’s way of life. So, when Bob invited me up for a cup of coffee, and a look at more of his writing, I jumped at the chance.

I drove up to Morehead City from Wilmington with my husband and then 9-year-old daughter. I had finished the story, which was published in Coastal Review Online, and brought him a copy. He didn’t seem interested in reading it – and I can’t blame him. He lived it, and told it, already. Much to my delight, he was more interested in telling other stories; the sunroom of his home overlooking Pelletier Creek felt like a museum of his life. I wanted to hear the tale behind every artifact.

My daughter spent most of her time there climbing an old oak tree on the front lawn. I didn’t know it at the time, but that old tree has a story too. Gene Hunstman told me that the electric company once showed up and told Bob they needed to remove some of its limbs. Bob asked if there was any other way to do it. They said no, so he told them to pack up their gear and go. He said he’d lived without electricity before and he could do it again,

“I’d rather have the tree than the electricity,” he said. I spied Bob smiling when he caught a glimpse of my daughter climbing on the tree through his window during our visit. I wonder now, if he was thinking he made the right choice. I know my daughter would think so.

As for the Sylvia II, Hunstman said, “Bob spent so much of his energy and intellect in preserving that termite nest – I would’ve loved to have had his memorial service out on the edge of the water with the Sylvia in the background.”

Bob Graham said it was his fervent wish to try and get Sylvia back to Bob Simpson for one last ride around Bogue Sound. “We probably fell only a couple of months short,” he said. “She will return, however, and when she does, I’m looking forward to a wizened old soul guiding my hand on her tiller one more time.”

Huntsman told me that Bob was the cheapest but the most generous man he ever knew. He deeded his home and property to North Carolina State University, which, according to his sister-in-law Susan, will be used to fund a curriculum in his name. Reportedly, developers had offered nearly $2 million for the property. When asked why he would give it away, Simpson said, “I’m giving it away because I’m ornery; I’ve seen too much natural beauty destroyed around here in my life, and I didn’t want to see this property turned into more condos or apartments.” I hope the university heeds his request.

In the brief time I am grateful to have spent with Bob, I felt a sense of ease about him – his face maintained a steady, tranquil smile during conversation.

“The real value is in the experiences involved,” Simpson wrote in his Sept. 24, 2004, column for the News & Observer. “It’s more important to be able to wander freely the wide-open spaces in Carolina or elsewhere, savoring the salt spray or wind in the trees, rod or gun in hand, dog by your side, listening to surf and gull, dove or waterfall – knowing that there are things still wild out there is much more important than filling creel or game bag.”

This is not the story of man who died, but one who truly lived. His friend Gene Huntsman affirms, “He just enjoyed life – enjoyed fishing, enjoyed camping, and he just enjoyed sitting with his evening cocktail and watching the sun go down – it was all a great adventure.”

In his book about his life aboard Sylvia, Simpson mused about what adventures might lie ahead for her and her next captain: “If some cool winter day you happen upon a classy antique anchored in a cove and catch the aromas of frying fish, hot biscuits and maybe clam chowder wafting across the water, you can expect to see a fellow with his feet up and a smile on his face, because he made a real good deal.”

Thanks for sharing your adventures with us, Bob. You made a real good deal.

Kathleen Rogers is President of Earth Day Network. This year’s Earth Day, April 22, campaign is to End Plastic Pollution.

By now most of us have read that plastic, that incredibly useful product that all of us use every day, is fast becoming public enemy number one. We have been using plastics for decades and as a result, plastic is everywhere: in our fish, in our food, in our oceans, in our waste water treatment systems, and in our public spaces. We use plastics in every part of our lives, from single-use plastics, such as bags, bottles, and straws, to our babies’ toys to our nylon clothes to our paint.

Plastic particles and plastic microbeads are used in our shampoo, toothpaste, soap and millions of other products, all of which contain different kinds of tiny particles of plastic, all of which come off in our bodies, our mouths, our scalp and our skin as we use them. And plastic use is on the rise, more than 10 percent a year, while industry titans build more and more profitable plastic factories with high-priced fossil fuels.

The plastics industry, and our fast food industry which relies on single use plastics, along with others, perhaps taking a page from Big Tobacco, have assured us that everything is perfectly fine. Yet many countries are banning BPA, phthalates, and other chemicals from plastics in some plastic products, and even industry is scouring around for suitable alternatives to fossil fuel based plastics, although so far many “biodegradable” plastics aren’t living up to their reputation.

What’s the alternative for us, the consumers and multi-decade guinea pigs, while we wait? Getting rid of single use plastics, using less plastic and getting involved in local legislation and regulation to reduce and recycle plastics is a good start. In the meantime, some countries and some U.S. states are wising up to the problem and the plastics lobby. An international treaty on plastics is under consideration but that may be a decade away.

In the meantime, we know for sure that our plastic bottles, sippy cups, and the water in them are spiked with chemically laced plastic micro-particles that should not be there.

Learn More

• Plastic Pollution Primer and Action Toolkit

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

The beach has always been a special place for me and my family. As a Wilmington native, I value the beauty of the North Carolina coastline. Still today, I enjoy plying the inland and nearshore waters of New Hanover, Pamlico, Carteret and Hyde counties. The community of this region is like family to me. We all have strong opinions on the subject of offshore energy exploration, and I respect the fundamental right to express them. I urge constructive, thoughtful dialogue over what admittedly is an extremely emotional issue that evokes deep passionate beliefs on each side of this debate.

A few weeks ago, the North Carolina Department of Environmental Quality hosted a series of hearings to gather comments for the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management (BOEM) as they develop the oil and natural gas lease plan for 2019-2025. As I attended these hearings, I was struck by the need for fact-based, informed discussions about whether to undertake future development of oil and natural gas off North Carolina’s coast. There is an extremely long, detailed and transparent regulatory process in place with multiple opportunities for public comment before any drilling activity would occur. If North Carolina is included in this draft lease plan, we are still at minimum of eight to ten years from any potential drilling off our cost, but there is a significant amount of due diligence that needs to happen between now and then

To that end, it is unfortunate that Governor Cooper unilaterally made the decision to oppose updated seismic research and potential future access, even before these hearings. In doing so, he passed up a significant opportunity to play a constructive role in the debate if the Trump Administration moves forward with their plans. To ensure North Carolina has a seat at the table to negotiate the best possible terms on potential revenue sharing, economic development and environmental protection measures, the state should remain engaged.

In the interim, seismic survey research, which is a proven safe technology, is absolutely necessary to better understand our gas and oil resources. According to BOEM’s chief environmental officer, Dr. William Brown, seismic surveys have no known detrimental impact to marine animal populations or to commercial fishing. This research allows industry, the federal government, elected officials and the general public through BOEM resource evaluations to determine whether areas are economically and environmentally viable for energy production. If we know where our resources are, we have the added environmental benefit to rule out areas for further exploration, drastically limiting potential impacts.

Current resource estimates for North Carolina are over 30 years old. The data was collected, processed and analyzed with that era’s technology. This means we’re having today’s conversation about whether we should pursue development without having accurate data available to us.

Counterpoint: Business View: ‘No Good Reason For Drilling’

Embracing our nation’s offshore energy potential could provide enormous benefits to North Carolina. Our state is uniquely positioned to add thousands of additional jobs and increase local revenue through safe and environmentally responsible offshore energy development. Already, the oil and natural gas industry directly and indirectly supports 141,500 jobs in North Carolina, according to a recent study by PriceWaterhouseCoopers. In 2015 — the last year with complete data — the industry added $13.41 billion to the state’s economy.

The industry has made great strides in safety for offshore operations. As demonstrated around the world in places like Canada, Norway, and even here in the United States, offshore operations can safely coexist with tourism and fishing industries while providing much needed diversity for local economies. Researching and potentially developing our abundant offshore energy resources in the Atlantic is a critical part of an energy policy that will secure our nation’s energy future, advance our national security interests, protect the environment, and help meet the energy needs of the consumers and businesses of North Carolina.

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

MOREHEAD CITY — The Carteret County Chamber of Commerce, with its nearly 900 members, advocates for businesses in the region. Our legislative agenda is shared with lawmakers locally and at the state and federal levels.

There is one issue on our Chamber’s agenda that is catching national attention. The Chamber’s Board of Directors unanimously approved opposing offshore drilling and seismic testing in the Atlantic:

The Carteret County Chamber opposes seismic blasting and the exploration and drilling for oil and natural gas off the North Carolina coast in the Atlantic Ocean, because these actions would pose a direct threat to the state’s coastal environment.  The risk of pollution and other harmful effects to marine mammals, turtles, fish, migratory birds and other aquatic life is far greater than estimated revenues from offshore drilling. 

In September of last year, our chamber co-founded the Business Alliance for Protecting the Atlantic Coast, or BAPAC. Today BAPAC has the support of more than 41,000 businesses and 500,000 commercial fishing families from Maine to Florida. Working with BAPAC, we successfully stopped the last administration from issuing permits for the destructive, old technology of seismic testing for oil reserves in the Atlantic. Fortunately, offshore drilling for oil along the Atlantic Coast had earlier been rejected.

However, since then President Trump issued an executive order instructing the Department of Interior to set the seismic permit denials aside and continue to review the six permit applications for seismic testing in federal waters stretching from Delaware to Florida. That process has resumed. In addition, the executive order also called on Interior to consider restarting the planning process that could result in approval of Atlantic Coast offshore drilling for oil and gas.

Since seismic testing would happen first, what’s at stake?

Earlier this year a report was issued describing a research study of how a small scale seismic testing effort off the coast of North Carolina impacted fish use of reefs. The results were dramatic. The seismic noise resulted in a 78 percent drop in fish gathering at the reef, clearly demonstrating how fish change their behavior to avoid the intense noise. This behavioral change has been shown to reduce commercial fish catches in other countries by up to 70 percent.

What About the Economy?

What effects could offshore drilling have on the economy? Let’s take a look at where we are currently.

North Carolina’s beaches and inlets generate $3 billion in revenue each year and directly support 39,000 jobs. Expenditures for recreation and tourism in 2009 in the state’s oceanfront counties were more than $2 billion and accounted for 28,000 jobs.

The economic impact of private boating in 2008 was $140 million, supporting 5,821 jobs. In that same year, coastal marinas had direct sales of $90 million, supporting 2,252 jobs.

The economic impact of the state’s seafood industry in 2008 totaled more than $336 million with 5,821 jobs. Sport fishing contributed more than $446 million, supporting 6,368 jobs.

A reminder: The BP Deepwater Horizon disaster in 2010 resulted in a spill of 4.9 million barrels, or nearly 206 million gallons, of oil into the Gulf of Mexico, making it the largest accidental oil spill in history.

Every aspect of offshore drilling, from exploration to transporting the product from the drilling site, has implications for marine life and coastal communities. Even the seismic air gun blasting associated with oil exploration is linked to injuries to marine mammals and, as can be seen by the article quoted above, driving indigenous marine life away or affecting their breeding cycle, which harms our commercial fishing industry.

Given the obvious threat that offshore drilling for oil poses to North Carolina, what reasons do drilling supporters have for risking our economy?

Most often the argument is that coastal communities should take the risk for the sake of the nation’s energy security. However, President Trump’s proposed FY 2018 budget undercuts this argument by advocating that the United States sell off half of the country’s Strategic Petroleum Reserve, which was created in 1975 in a national energy security effort.

In defending the proposed oil sell-off from the reserve, Mick Mulvaney, Office of Management and Budget director for the president, pointed out that domestic oil production is up and the U.S. is importing less oil.

“We think it’s the responsible thing to do.” Mr. Mulvaney told the press. “I don’t need to take this much of your money to bury it in the ground out in West Texas someplace for domestic security and national security reasons when we have domestic supplies like we do.”

With the administration recognizing that energy security is not in jeopardy, the issue no longer justifies support for offshore drilling in the Atlantic.

Supporters of Atlantic Coast offshore drilling also often point to the Gulf Coast states and the revenue sharing they receive from the federal government oil royalties. They argue that this could be new revenue to supplement the budgets of Atlantic Coast states if drilling were allowed.

But the Trump budget would eliminate this rationale also. The proposed budget would end existing revenue sharing with Gulf of Mexico states, thus allowing more revenue for the federal government. Obviously, revenue sharing would not be offered to Atlantic Coast states.

Only one reason remains for pro-drilling advocates: jobs for local economies. Yet, 123 Atlantic Coast local governments have passed resolutions opposing offshore drilling. They do not want the jobs that would come from industrializing their coasts and displacing their current tourism, commercial fishing and recreational economies.

Essentially there are no good reasons for Atlantic Coast offshore drilling for oil. Simply put, it’s not good for the business community anywhere along the coast and especially in North Carolina.

Learn More

• Business Alliance for Protecting the Atlantic Coast
• Carteret County Chamber of Commerce

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

Last week I had the amazing experience of eating my way through the Billion Oyster Party that was held in Brooklyn, New York. The party was a fundraiser for the Billion Oyster Project in New York Harbor. This project is not aiming to grow oysters in the harbor to be served in fine restaurants in Manhattan, but instead to bring back much better water quality in New York Harbor. It is an ecosystem restoration and education initiative that engages school children through restoration based science, technology, engineering and math educational programs. In fact, an astonishing 57 schools are already participating in this project, with the Harbor School on Governors Island being the cornerstone of the effort.

Having spent over 40 years in the information technology industry, I felt like I was attending a high-tech product launch in Silicon Valley. I was surrounded by entrepreneurs, startups, venture capitalists, investors, benefactors and people who care deeply about protecting and restoring our environment. They also love to eat oysters! There were more than 50 oyster growers and chefs from east to west coast serving a crowd of over 700 eager participants in a restored industrial building in Red Hook.

While I was very familiar with the resurgence of oysters in Virginia, I was unaware of the dramatic growth in oyster mariculture in Massachusetts; Maine; Maryland; Connecticut; New York (Long Island); South Carolina; Georgia; Washington; Oregon; California; and yes, even New Jersey, all who participated at the event. I was disheartened to see there was not a single grower from North Carolina. It was obvious that these states and their entrepreneurs understand the economic opportunity oyster mariculture delivers: That oyster consumption is doubling every five years and there are significant environmental benefits to restoring our oyster population. Oysters are the original clean tech.

If you want to get a feel for this event, pick up a copy of “Oysters: A Celebration in the Raw,” (2016, Abbeville Press) written by Jeremy Sewall and Marion Lear Swaybill. This book contains more than a hundred pages of full-color photographs by Scott Snider that beautifully illustrate many of the oysters I consumed at the party.  Once again, North Carolina oysters are not included in this otherwise astonishing tribute to oysters.

I tasted over 30 different oysters but more importantly spoke with each of the growers about their experiences being pioneers in this emerging industry. I was energized by their enthusiasm and passion for their new businesses. Like any emerging industry there are challenges, however, each one spoke enthusiastically about the business and their plans for future growth. One common theme was that there is no shortage of demand for their product.

North Carolina has all of the resources as well as competitive advantage to become the Silicon Valley of oyster mariculture. We have abundant habitat; a supportive legislature and state government; competitive leasing program, compared to other states; university and community college support; access to markets; and a committed workforce. It is time to recognize this emerging business and environmental opportunity and accelerate our efforts.

One thing for sure. I will be back next year and I’m going to make sure that North Carolina oysters will be well represented!

Learn More

• The Billion Oyster Party
• The North Carolina Coastal Federation’s 50 Million Oyster Initiative 

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or its publisher, the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

WILMINGTON — In these tumultuous times, while our elected officials and many in our media persistently incite polarization in attempts to drum up support or ratings, it’s heartening to witness Democrats and Republicans, young and old, fishermen and vegans all coming together in support of the same goal: improving and preserving the Cape Fear River basin.

Cape Fear River Watch held its ninth annual StriperFest Jan. 13-14 at Wilmington’s Coastline Conference and Event Center, kicking it off with a sold-out banquet and auction on the Friday night, followed the next day by a tag-and-release fishing tournament and a free community education day.

“Everyone can have their different points of view, but when it comes to the river, there is great agreement among divides; the Cape Fear River is the bloodline of our community,” said New Hanover County Commissioner Rob Zapple, who has attended the StriperFest banquet for years.

Zapple, a Democrat, was spotted crossing the banquet floor – and the political divide – in greeting former member of the North Carolina Senate, Republican Thom Goolsby, who was attending the banquet for the second time.

“Our Cape Fear River is a wonderful blessing that must be protected and preserved,” said Goolsby.

Guests at the banquet – some in three-piece suits and others sporting camouflage shorts – savored local seafood and sustainably raised pork, promoting our local fisheries and advancing awareness of what Cape Fear Riverkeeper Kemp Burdette said is the most pressing issue facing the river this year – pollution from North Carolina’s 6,500 concentrated animal feeding operations. In terms of production, North Carolina’s hog and poultry operations rank second and third in the nation, respectively, generating 10 billion gallons of animal waste, annually, and they are concentrated just upriver from Wilmington, in Duplin and Sampson counties.

“If the state doesn’t start enforcing existing laws and pushing for improved regulation where necessary, we may pass the tipping point and the river — our drinking water — will suffer greatly,” said Burdette.

Core to the mission of Cape Fear River Watch and a primary objective of StriperFest is fishery restoration. This issue, often contentious among fishermen and environmentalists, is what brought Capt. Jot Owens to Cape Fear River Watch nine years ago, when he helped found the striped bass, or striper, tag-and-release tournament. Capt. Jot said that while he sees an increase in the gap between environmentalists and fishermen due to today’s heated political atmosphere, “… working together, even with opposing political views, is all it takes.” And this event delivered.

The tag-and-release tournament brought fishermen, scientists and environmentalists together on the water in a combined effort to gather vital information on the striper population in the river.

“The bottom line is that the river needs help and it needs to be fixed for everyone; it’s too precious a resource,” he said. “Political stance aside, it’s all about the river.”

Like all good fishing stories, this year’s tag-and-release tournament was not without drama. A three-way tie among anglers, all of whom tagged seven stripers apiece, was narrowly broken by a 180-second difference between catch times.

While the boats were away gathering scientific data, local scientists were back at the conference center, kicking off StriperFest’s free Community Education Day. The early morning hours were dedicated to adults who were treated with science and information from two local experts on fishery restoration: Lawrence B. Cahoon, a marine biologist with the University of North Carolina Wilmington, and coastal scientist Dawn York of the Cape Fear River Partnership. But, education met youthful vigor at 11 a.m. as energetic kids poured into the conference room eager to touch a fish’s eyeball at the anatomy table, get an octopus painted on their face or head upstairs to the puppet show to learn about the rock rapids fish passage at Lock and Dam No. 1, which, to all you non-kids out there who missed the show, helps anadromous fish make it upriver to spawn; ask your kids what anadromous means.

It took the combined efforts of Cape Fear River Watch Educational Coordinator Kay-Lynn Plummer-Hernandez, and board member Melissa Juhan, who coordinated the activities, along with nearly 100 volunteers to execute this event. “Seeing so many people devote their free time to environmental education is monumental to me,” said Plummer-Hernandez. “We know that the only way to get people to care about and protect the river is to help them better understand it, and all the long hours of preparation and sleepless nights get paid for before my eyes through the eyes of the kids; the event is unlike any other.”

The success of the two-day event affirms that Cape Fear River Watch’s efforts to engage people and connect them to our community’s most important resource – our fresh water – are making real headway in restoring and preserving the Cape Fear River basin.

As an historic Inauguration Day approached upon an astoundingly fractured nation, this event offered a few days of respite from division and discord, as a patchwork of our community, all cut from different cloth, came together in reverence to the river – a reminder that our sacred places need from us a little grace and a lot of effort – and like the river, we are stronger when we converge.

Learn More

• Cape Fear River Watch

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not necessarily those of Coastal Review Online or the North Carolina Coastal Federation.

GREENVILLE — Bald cypress and pond cypress are two closely related tree species common along the shorelines of our estuaries and rivers. The explorer Thomas Harriot described more than 400 years ago how Native Americans made their canoes out of cypress trees. Excavations in some of the lakes at Pocosin Lakes Wildlife Refuge have recovered canoes dating to pre-European times.

It is amazing to think that some of the trees alive back then are still living along our shores. Scientists have found bald cypress trees in North Carolina that are more than 1,600 years old, meaning the trees were alive before the Europeans’ arrival. What stories could these trees tell us about the changes they have seen along our shores?

We know that our coast is changing. We know that erosion is taking a toll on many beaches on the Outer Banks. Tidal records going back to the 1930s show increases in the levels of the tides. Unfortunately, most of our understanding comes from the Outer Banks or the oceanfront; we don’t know as much about what is happening along the shorelines of the Albemarle-Pamlico Estuarine System. Even though the Albemarle and Pamlico sounds support fisheries that are both economic and culturally important, our understanding of changes to our sounds has lagged behind the interest in the Outer Banks.

The shores of the Albemarle and Pamlico sounds are covered by marshes and forested coastal wetlands, which we normally call swamps. As sea level rises, research from North Carolina and other places along the East Coast suggests that saltwater marshes are good at keeping up with the rising tides. However, it is unclear how swamps will deal with rising sea levels. It could be that swamps are replaced by marshes in areas experiencing sea level rise, which means the exchange of one wetland type for another. However, in the worst of cases, swamps might drown from the rising sea levels faster than a new marsh can form, leading to the creation of “ghost forests” and eventually leading to open water. Areas in Bull Neck Swamp, Palmetto-Peartree Preserve, Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge and Goose Creek State Park are just some examples where the loss of swamps are occurring.

Common tree species in swamps include bald cypress and pond cypress, water tupelo and pond pine, among many others. Swamps can provide important habitat for endangered and threatened species, such as the red-cockaded woodpecker. As swamps are drowned with rising sea levels, most of the tree species die out, and cypress are usually the last ones to persist.

Even though a cypress tree living in the water is a common sight when visiting the sounds, their seeds require dry land to get established. That means that all those trees sitting in water today, started their lives on dry land many years ago. Cypress trees can live with up to three feet of standing water, as long as the water is not too salty. If the trees are flooded with too much water, or too much salt, they begin to die. As they die, their trunks and branches remain standing for a long time, forming “ghost forests,” which are becoming a common sight around the shores of our estuaries and rivers.

The appearance of ghost forests is happening all across the southeastern coastal plain of the U.S. It is unclear how these ghost forests function compared to a healthy swamp. Do they provide habitat for endangered species? Do ghost forests sequester as much carbon as healthy swamps do? Do ghost forests help decrease inland flooding during storms? Understanding the answers to these questions will be important to mitigate the negative consequences of rising sea levels.

Cypress trees can serve as sentinels of our sounds, if we learn how to read their stories. We are beginning a citizen science project to collect photos, locations, and basic information about cypress trees along the shores of our sounds and rivers. Using simple mobile device applications, we are asking people to take pictures and answer some basic questions about these trees and send them to a central website. Submitting an entry can take less than five minutes.

By increasing the number of eyes and cameras that are looking for these trees, we hope to get a more complete picture of their current health. Our goal is to begin to connect the dots to better understand how our shores are changing. If you are out in the Albemarle Sound or Pamlico Sound or some of the major rivers fishing, hunting, bird watching or simply enjoying nature and you see these beautiful trees, snap a picture of them and send it to us.

We hope you will help us improve our understanding of how these majestic trees, and swamps, are being affected by a changing climate and rising sea levels, in order to better prepare for an uncertain, but certainly different, future.

To Learn More

• Get involved with Sentinels of the Sounds science project

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

The Small Business Administration reports that more than 60 percent of total U.S. employment comes from family-owned businesses, and those businesses account for 78 percent of all new job creation. Allowing small and family-owned businesses to efficiently and effectively operate should be a goal of our representatives in Washington. Recently, North Carolina’s Republican Sens. Richard Burr and Thom Tillis did just that.

Our representatives in the Senate voted to block government waste, promote business and save taxpayer dollars, all at the same time. And while Congress is a familiar punching bag, often mired in ineffective bureaucratic nonsense that deserves criticism, the Senate should be lauded for its work last week.

The story behind how and why senators voted to do away with a duplicative program that dumped tens of millions in tax dollars down the drain, and threatens to waste tens of millions more annually by having two different regulators in the same facility inspecting seafood is a quintessential Washington waste narrative.

According to the Government Accountability Office, or GAO, the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s catfish regulation program is one of the most wasteful programs in federal history. It’s been targeted by GAO no fewer than 10 times as a duplicative waste. The office says the program, enacted eight years ago, has spent 20 million taxpayer dollars and done basically nothing. And the government is prepared to spend $14 million more every year to maintain the program. The answer to why the USDA hasn’t done anything with all those dollars over all those years can be found in the fact that the Food and Drug Administration already regulates fish; two regulators doing the same job and taxpayers footing the bill for both.

The program was never designed for food safety, it was actually designed as a trade barrier to imported catfish, a product that domestic catfish farmers saw as competition. By switching the regulator from FDA to USDA, imports of that one fish would essentially be barred from entry based on regulatory differences between the two systems. So while catfish farmers got a trade barrier aimed at their competition, the rest of the seafood community got two regulators in one facility. Expensive duplication and over regulation like that is what hurts small and family owned businesses.

The program also has the potential to hurt North Carolina farmers as the trade dispute that has erupted over the effort promises to inflict retaliatory trade tariffs on our agricultural exports. Talk about unintended consequences. North Carolina exports $494.4 million in agricultural products to the 13 countries that export the most seafood to the U.S.

Distributing safe, healthy seafood and serving delicious, affordable seafood meals is what our family business has done for decades. Keeping this unnecessary program out of our facilities and off our plates saves consumers money. A tip of the hat to Sens. Burr and Tillis for voting to get rid of this job-killing, tax-wasting boondoggle. Now it’s up to their colleagues in the House to follow suit.

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

Environmental activist groups continue to use misinformation targeting geophysical surveys in an effort to halt oil and gas exploration and development. As each of their unfounded claims is disproven, they adopt yet another baseless assertion to mislead the public. Among the latest efforts is the claim that geophysical surveys are harmful to fish.

Marine seismic surveys have been conducted since the 1950s, and experience shows that fisheries and seismic activities can and do successfully coexist. There has been no observation of direct physical injury or death to free-ranging fish caused by seismic survey activity, and there is no conclusive evidence showing long-term or permanent displacement of fish.

It is important to remember that seismic surveys are temporary and transient. The survey vessel is constantly in motion, and only emits signals that are local and short in duration. Similar seismic surveys conducted for academic research in Atlantic waters in the recent past did not produce any noticeable effects on commercial or recreational fish catches (based on a review of National Marine Fisheries Service data from the months surveys were conducted, noting “there was absolutely no evidence of harm to marine species” nor fish).

Contrary to environmental activists’ claims, seismic surveys also do not result in closing areas to commercial or recreational fishing. Survey crews work diligently to maintain a vessel exclusion zone around the survey vessel and its towed streamer arrays to avoid any interruption of fishing operations, including setting of fishing gear. As with all combined uses of offshore waters, there is coordination by all parties. At sea, coordination is regulated by the Coast Guard, requiring a Local Notice to Mariners specifying survey dates and locations. The federal Bureau of Ocean Energy Management has concluded “there is only a limited potential for space-use conflicts between seismic survey activities and commercial fishing operations within the area of interest” and any impacts “would be intermittent, temporary, and short term.”

The seismic and geophysical industry takes a great deal of care and consideration of all aspects of the marine environment. It demonstrates this care in many ways, including investing significant resources in research along with exploration and production companies to increase understanding of the effect of sound on marine life and to address any potential risk with effective mitigation strategies. We encourage the public to learn more about the science of sound in the marine environment.

Seismic and other geophysical surveys are the first critical step to better understanding the nation’s resource potential and there is not one single verifiable instance of sound from these surveys harming marine life populations. We cannot afford to put the nation’s energy security and independence at risk by limiting access to safe affordable domestic energy because of the baseless accusations of environmental activists. The economic and energy future of the United States is far too important to cater to the short-sighted agenda of a few.

To Learn More

• Could seismic tests harm fish?
• International Association of Geophysical Contractors
• Joint Industry Programme on sound and the sea

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

The inexorable rise in global temperatures, combined with a strong El Niño, puts 2015 in the record books while burying a key, but bogus, argument used by those who deny that our climate is changing.

Last year is officially the hottest year in recorded history, according to independent analyses released last week by NASA and NOAA scientists. If this sounds like something you’ve heard before: It is. This time last year, those same agencies announced that 2014 had been the hottest year in recorded history. But 2014 squeaked by the previous record set in 2010 by less than five-hundredths of a degree. 2015 blew the doors off that record by 0.16°C. That may not seem like much, but it’s the largest margin by which a previous annual temperature record was broken

Globally, all but two months, January and April, were the warmest in recorded history, as the above chart shows. And this warmth wasn’t limited to some random, remote area in the middle of the ocean or Siberia. In the United States, every single state east of the Mississippi River just had its warmest December on record.

RIP “Hiatus”

Temperatures last year are the latest nails in the coffin for an unfortunately popular misconception about climate change. Called the “hiatus” or “pause,” this oft-cited talking point says that global temperatures peaked in 1998 and have not risen since.

Temperatures last year were, in fact, unusually warm in 1998, thanks in part to a strong El Niño that year. During El Niños, warmer-than-usual ocean water covers the equatorial Pacific Ocean, typically resulting in warmer-than-average global temperatures. 2015 saw the start of the strongest El Niño since 1998, and so we would expect warm temperatures in 2015, all else being equal. But, as the plot in the accompanying chart shows, all else is not equal. El Niños have been getting warmer over the past 30 years, with the 2015 El Niño just the latest, and warmest, example.

The “hiatus” is based on comparing the strong 1998 El Niño to following years, which were at best weak El Niño. 2015 was a strong El Niño year, as well, making a comparison to 1998 more reasonable. Still, any comparison of a single year to another year is not only pretty silly, it is scientifically and statistically wrong. Earth’s climate is a complicated beast, and many different factors—a lot of which are still poorly understood—cause year-to-year swings in global temperature. If we look at the records over longer time periods, though, the trend becomes obvious: Global temperatures are increasing. This would be true regardless of whether 2015 was the warmest year on record or not.

2015 Context

What does a 0.9°C warmer world actually mean? To get context, we can step back to the last time when scientists know global temperatures were quite different from today: The peak of the last ice age, around 20,000 years ago. Even though thermometers were only invented 300 years ago, scientists can infer temperatures at the last ice age by measuring biological and geochemical artifacts that are related to temperature, such as tree rings, coral growth and ice cores. A recent compilation of hundreds of these measurements by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change suggest the ice age world was, on average, 4.4 ± 1.3°C colder than the 20^th century.

In other words, the temperature difference from average last year (+0.9°C) was up to 30% as large as the temperature difference at the peak of the last ice age, when ice sheets up to a mile thick covered North America down to New York, global sea level was about 450 feet lower—equivalent to the height of Great Pyramid of Giza—and wooly mammoths roamed across the high latitudes.

This isn’t an entirely fair comparison; there were undoubtedly warm and cold years during the last ice age. But the bigger point is this: Earth’s history is marked by massive physical and biological changes associated with relatively small changes in global temperature. A year that was 0.9°C warmer than average, on top of now 39 straight warmer than average years, is a change that simply cannot be ignored. Fortunately, the recent climate agreement in Paris is a key first step to potentially limit the consequences of climate change in the future, when the record warmth of 2015 will be easily forgotten under the weight of increasingly extreme years.

To Learn More

• NOAA’s 2015 State of the Climate Report: Global Analysis
• NOAA’s 2015 State of the Climate Report: U.S. Analysis

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

I would like to share with your readers the perspective I recently provided to Congressmen Walter Jones and David Price, who signed a letter to the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management in opposition to proposed seismic surveying in the Atlantic.

The outer continental shelf, or OCS, offshore North Carolina holds the potential for significant amounts of recoverable fossil fuels and wind energy generation. New geological and geophysical surveys using seismic imaging are a critical next step towards harnessing offshore energy resources and realizing the substantial economic benefits such development would bring to North Carolina.

As chair of the OCS Governors Coalition, Gov. Pat McCrory advocates an all-of-the-above energy policy that encourages the safe and responsible exploration of offshore oil, natural gas and renewable energy. The Obama administration has acknowledged that the lower prices Americans are seeing at the gas pump are the result of increased domestic energy production. Exploration and development of offshore resources, along with appropriate environmental protections and revenue sharing, will maintain affordability and provide North Carolinians with clean, reliable energy.

The lack of current and reliable seismic data is the most pressing obstacle to making informed decisions about how to proceed. Most seismic data for the Atlantic is more than three decades old and cannot provide the vital information mid-Atlantic states need about the location and amount of resources lying below the seabed. With advanced seismic data collection and computer modeling, the industry will be better equipped to protect the environment, safely recover oil and gas resources and site offshore wind energy turbines.

The National Science Foundation safely conducted a 2-D seismic survey off the coast of North Carolina last fall. Interestingly, this study did not receive the attention that the proposed studies have generated, despite the fact that they used the same technology that is proposed for oil and gas seismic data collection. The N.C. divisions of Coastal Management and Marine Fisheries did not receive any reports of disturbances or injury to marine wildlife and are unaware of any adverse impacts resulting from those surveying activities.

That is consistent with observations made by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration in May 2015, which found no evidence that serious injury, death or stranding by marine mammals can occur from exposure to airgun pulses, even in the case of large airgun arrays. Sadly, some political groups masquerading as environmental organizations have chosen to ignore these realities.

The McCrory administration supports President Obama’s decision to open the mid-Atlantic to job-creating offshore energy exploration that will move North Carolina and the nation closer to energy independence. We disagree, however, with the Obama administration’s decision not to allow revenue sharing between the federal government and mid-Atlantic states, as is done with Gulf Coast states. Because coastal states inherit all of the risk associated with offshore exploration and development, revenue sharing is critical in protecting the environment and our vibrant coastal economies.

I urge Congressmen Jones and Price to support seismic surveying as a next step towards offshore energy exploration and hope they will represent North Carolina’s best interests by insisting that revenue sharing is part of any offshore energy program. With updated seismic data in hand and revenue sharing in place, North Carolina will be poised to realize the significant benefits of offshore energy development.

Related Content

• Congressmen Urge Halt to Seismic Permitting

I’m sitting on wet sand inside of Cape Lookout Bight. A pair of 10×42 binoculars rest upon my knee, and the sun has just dipped below the horizon. An artist’s palette of pastel color unfurls across the sky with perfect symmetry reflected in the waters below. This is the kind of idyllic postcard moment that marketing wizards conjure up for would-be tourists across the Northeast. Serenity. Romance. Beauty. They would probably have a couple glasses of red wine strategically placed in the composition. But there is one small detail from this scene they would certainly leave out of the story: the fact that I’m watching the dorsal fin of a shark ply the waters just feet in front of me.

Sharks dominated the national news throughout the month of July thanks to a slew of attacks along the coast of North Carolina this summer. Speculation has run wild, of course, and stories ranging from perfect storm scenarios to exploding populations have made it into the media. As one researcher from UNC’s Institute of Marine Science explained to me, however, “most of those reporting on these events are unburdened by actual facts.” Whatever those facts may be, the bombardment of all things sharks in the media has culminated in this moment for me right here, right now, on a secluded beach at dusk hanging out with predators.

In all honesty, I have no idea what species of shark it is cruising these shallows at dusk. I just know that compared to the three others I see, this is the largest. Judging from the distance between its dorsal fin and tail, I estimate its length at about 5 feet. For the uninitiated, this may seem large, but in reality, it’s not.

Along our coast, big sharks, or what researchers call the great sharks, can range from 6 to 20 feet in length. These are the top dogs if you will, the apex predators of our corner of the blue wilderness we call the oceans. Most have names that you know: names like hammerhead, tiger and bull, to list a few. These are the sharks that make headlines, the ones kids go crazy about at aquariums, and the sharks that now face the immediate possibility of extinction – an inconvenient fact that was largely absent from the media feeding frenzy.

For more than four decades now, the UNC Institute of Marine Sciences in Morehead City has been engaged in the longest-running study of sharks in the United States. From spring to fall, every two weeks, a small team of researchers travel off the coast of Shackleford Banks to catch sharks. Soaking longlines like commercial fisherman, the biologists are able to capture a multitude of different species that are feeding at various depths in the water column. This location is ideal for getting a snapshot of what is going on along the coast as it sits within something of a bottleneck along the sharks’ migratory range. In other words, the data collected here can give us an understanding of shark populations from Cape Cod to Cape Canaveral. And there are 43 years’ worth of data to back it all up.

The results? Harrowing. Populations of great sharks across the board have collapsed: sandbar sharks, 87 percent decline; blacktip sharks, 93 percent decline; tiger sharks, 97 percent decline; scalloped hammerheads, 98 percent decline; and bull, dusky and smooth hammerhead, 99 percent declines. Another long-term study out of Virginia concludes that sand tigers have also declined by 99 percent.

Keystone Species

This a problem for us – let alone the sharks. You see, the great sharks are keystone species. Their presence impacts entire marine ecosystems through a process that conservation biologists call trophic cascades. It’s kind of like Ronald Reagan’s trickle-down economics – only this actually works.

Picture a pyramid. At the top sits the shark, the apex predator. Below that on the next trophic level sits the shark’s main prey species. In this case, along this coast, that would be species including the cownose rays. These are what we call mesopredators. The next level down hosts the prey species of the rays. This keeps going until you make it to the very bottom of the food chain and you reach those species that obtain their energy directly from the sun. This is a trophic pyramid, a simplified depiction of the ecological pecking order. Big sharks eat rays, rays eat scallops, clams and oysters, and the bivalves in turn filter water in our estuaries.

So, what happens when you chop off the top of the pyramid?

Some 2,500 miles northwest of here is the greater Yellowstone ecosystem, and a landscape that has quite famously answered this very question. The national park that makes up the heart and soul of this place has been something of a test tube for scientists to observe and study for well over a century now. Shortly after the inception of the world’s first national park, its new managers waged a full-scale war against the apex predator of that ecosystem – the wolf. And within a few short years, the big canines were effectively wiped off the map.

For the next century, park officials watched as elk populations began to explode. This was seen as beneficial at first. People liked the elk. More elk therefore meant more of what people wanted. Hunters in the surrounding national forests were elated. But then aspen stands began to die. Willow stands that ringed the wetlands disappeared. Beaver disappeared. And the temperature of some streams and creeks began reaching levels that could not support fish in the summertime. In essence, the very fabric of an entire ecosystem began to slowly fray and unravel.

No wolves in Yellowstone equated to an unchecked population of antlered eating machines on the landscape. Favorite meals for this species are aspens and willows which predictably began to disappear. All of those grassy meadows that you see today with lazy creeks running through them are the result of overgrazing by elk. There should be willows in there. There should be beaver ponds, stands of aspens. As these critical species of trees and shrubs began to disappear, so too did the species that depended upon them such as the beaver. And beavers, more so than any other animal in the northern Rockies, create home and habitat for a multitude of other animals ranging from waterfowl to moose.

Sharks are the apex predators of our coastal ecosystem. They are the wolves of the sea. Eliminate these animals from the trophic pyramid and you release the mesopredators like cownose rays from the checks and balances that sharks once placed on their population through predation and fear. As a result, much like the increase in elk populations across Yellowstone, we have witnessed an explosion in the cownose ray population along the eastern seaboard. That population is now estimated at around 40 million. And it takes a whole lot of bay scallops to feed all of these rays.

In 2006, after 100 years, North Carolina’s commercial scallop fishery – the second largest in the nation – was shut down. The reason? There were simply not enough scallops in the estuaries to support it. When the cownose rays migrated through the area, they were consuming almost every adult scallop that they could find. The rays’ effect on the scallops was confirmed by setting up palisades made from PVC pipe around certain scallop beds designed specifically for excluding cownose rays from the area. After a two-year hiatus on harvesting scallops, the fisheries reopened, but barely. And even today, this fishery remains precarious at best.

This is quite possibly just the tip of the iceberg. The population collapse of great sharks in the western Atlantic has occurred primarily within the last 20 years due to commercial longline fishing and the rising demand for shark fin soup. It takes time however, even in a terrestrial ecosystem, for the effects of these sorts of system-wide changes to take shape.

And this is a marine ecosystem we are talking about, one that’s hidden beneath the surface of the water, where we cannot so easily see such changes as they begin to take place. In Yellowstone, anyone could look out across the Lamar Valley and see the lack of willows and aspens. In the ocean and estuaries, it takes teams of specialized researchers working in the water and scores of number crunchers to mine through fisheries data.  And the data does not always point to the same thing.

I had the opportunity to chat with Dr. Stephen Fegley, a marine ecologist from the Institute of Marine Sciences about the data that is currently available. Fegley has been pivotal in analyzing all the numbers from the university’s study on sharks, and if anyone could help explain the discrepancies between fisheries’ and researchers’ data that I was seeing, he was the guy.

“The most important thing that you have to understand about the institute’s study is that it is 43 years old. This is the longest-running study of sharks in the United Sates,” said Dr. Fegley. “Populations fluctuate naturally, and with so many variables, it’s impossible to determine a trend in a population without years of data. This is why UNC’s work is unique. It is looking at specific species over a long period of time.”

The N.C. Department of Marine Fisheries recently released its statistics for the 2014 commercial fishing season. Shark catches were up, way up. In 2013, commercial fishermen brought in an estimated 500,000 pounds of shark from N.C. waters. In 2014, it was double that – tipping the scales at over a million pounds. Such information can be read different ways. For some, this 2014 data could indicate that shark populations were getting healthier and species were rebounding along our coast. But when it comes to statistics, the devil is always in the details.

You see, NCDMF published data doesn’t actually differentiate between species of shark except for the two species of dogfish that are caught commercially. That 1 million pounds of shark says just that: shark. What kind of sharks? Black tip? Tiger? Great White? The prehistoric Megalodon? There is no mention.

Much of the shark fishery tends to take place out near the continental shelf – except for those who are targeting sandbar sharks for their fins, which is only illegal in the United States if they don’t bring the entire shark back to the dock. The shelf is the realm of pelagic sharks such as blue and mako (a species found in many fish tacos). These species are open-ocean sharks. They are not the ones that fall under the coastal complex of species that the Institute of Marine Sciences is ultimately targeting. And they are not the species that function as apex predators in our coastal waters.

Commercial fisherman know the species of sharks that are in question quite well. They have to. Their licenses depend upon it. There is a complete ban on fishing for most of these big sharks. For example, sand tiger sharks (down 99 percent) have been banned since 1997. Dusky sharks (down 99 percent) have been banned since 2000. And the scalloped hammerhead (98 percent) is on the endangered species list.

The majority of the great sharks are all now on a commercial “do not touch” list. But longlines are just that – very long lines. Some stretch for miles and contain many hundreds of hooks. This method of industrial fishing catches fish indiscriminately. Though a commercial longliner may be targeting mahi-mahi or tuna, everything from sharks to sea turtles are caught incidentally and then labeled as by-catch. Some species of sharks can be kept and sold on the market. Others, such as the ones above, are tossed overboard. And by the time these sharks have been landed, they are typically already dead. So regardless of federal bans and even the Endangered Species Act, these species of sharks continue to slip over the edge of oblivion.

Back in the estuaries, as scallops become scarce, cownose rays turn to oysters and hard clams — the stuff in your clam chowder. Our estuaries are already in a state of recovery from the over harvesting of oysters, and millions of dollars are being spent on restoration here. What happens when cownose rays begin focusing on these oyster beds? It is this very question that has sparked the “Save the bay, eat a ray” campaign in Virginia.

And the cownose ray is just one species, the one that we know about simply because it has had an immediate and direct financial effect upon the livelihoods of watermen across our coastal plain. What other ripple effects will the disappearance of these great sharks have across our marine and estuarine systems? We simply don’t know yet.

Those of us who live at the edge of the sea, teeter upon the precipice of the greatest wilderness on our planet. Right here, beneath the waves, is the Serengeti. Apex predators stalk the shadows. Food webs here have a 400-million-year-old history. New species are still being discovered on a regular basis and not just strange microscopic stuff. New species of megafauna are still turning up – such as the Carolina hammerhead, which was announced in 2013.

Our world is inextricably linked to the health and wealth of these oceans. From the oxygen we breathe, the climate we live in and the food that we eat. Yet, we know more about the dark side of the moon than we do this blue wilderness.

Sometimes, it’s all too easy to lose ourselves in the argument of conservation based solely upon anthropocentric desires. What is good for us? What do we want? How do collapsing populations of sharks affect us? And all of this without consideration for what may simply be best for the other members of this planetary community we call life on Earth. We are a species that stumbled upon godlike powers, but never learned how to responsibly wield those powers. We make decisions as to which species shall live, and which shall be slated for extinction with only our own self interests in mind.

For most of us, the question of whether or not great sharks will go extinct seems to be beyond our control. With ethics and morality considered, we wrinkle our brows at the notion and feel frustration, maybe even anger, toward those that we assume are the ones that wield such control and yet allow for this to happen. But if we peel back the layers of excuses and look at the issue for what it really is, we find ourselves staring into a mirror. We are the ones who wield that power. Only, we do so with our wallets and how we chose to spend our money. As long as we create the demand, industry will continue to supply. And that demand currently kills 100 million sharks a year.

As Walt Kelly, the creator of the “Pogo” comic strip, so poignantly revealed to us all, “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

Even before “Shark Week” began last week, we all witnessed a recent feeding frenzy of reporters all seeking “sound bites” on what has been causing the high incidence of shark attacks off the N.C. coast. Unfortunately, sound bites do not lend themselves to proper public communication of science because they are divorced from the process by which scientists reach conclusions.

Documenting the scientific process for reaching conclusions requires an expanded explanation of how we scientists first erect credible hypotheses that may reasonably explain the phenomenon, gather data to test the hypotheses and then present the conclusions that arise from those tests. The public interest is better served with press publication of details of this more elaborate scientific process than with sound bites because the publication of the entire process exposes to scrutiny the basis on which conclusions are reached and can enrich and enliven the public debate by showing how the data are transformed into conclusions.

Here is what we know. In 2007, UNC-IMS faculty joined with shark experts from Dalhousie University in Canada to publish in the journal Science a study of temporal changes in the populations of great and small sharks along the East Coast. A core data set analyzed in this paper was a 32-year fishery-independent sampling of sharks on the coastal shelf off Shackleford Banks in Carteret County. These analyses revealed that all 11 species of great sharks sufficiently abundant to be analyzed exhibited dramatic declines in abundance from 1972 through 2003. In contrast, of the 14 species of smaller sharks and rays, eaten solely by these great sharks, 12 exhibited dramatic increases up to 2003. This paper we wrote interpreted the expansion in abundance of smaller sharks and rays to be a consequence of reduced predation pressure from the overfished great sharks.

So one might reasonably ask — what have the shark counts been doing since 2003? We have indeed continued this scientifically valuable shark survey biweekly over all the warm months of each year. Over the 11 subsequent years, 2003-2014, there is no evidence of increasing numbers of any of the 11 species of great sharks that exhibited dramatic declines. Recovery of great shark populations in the coastal ocean off North Carolina, then, cannot serve as an explanation for the unexpectedly high numbers of recent shark attacks off N.C. beaches.

Some suggest that the unusually warm weather in Eastern North Carolina during June may, along with lower gasoline prices, have led to increased numbers of beach visitors. The hot weather may, in turn, have motivated a higher percentage of those visitors to spend more time in the ocean to cool off. More humans in the ocean increase chances of shark attacks because of the increased probability of human-shark encounters. While this explanation has merit, it fails to explain fully why the numbers of shark attacks have increased in North Carolina during June as compared to previous years. The eight shark attacks during the last three weeks contrast dramatically with full-year totals for North Carolina of five in 2010, four in 2011, two in 2012, one in 2013 and four in 2014. The number of humans in the water this year has not increased that much over the preceding years to account for this much change in the number of shark bites alone.

One could hypothesize that the warmer weather in June and warmer waters may have driven great sharks further north from southern waters and into North Carolina this year, bringing the increased risk of shark attacks along with them. Seasonal migrations of coastal sharks are evident along the East Coast, regularly increasing numbers of sharks off North Carolina in early summer. This northward movement of migrating sharks could explain the general geographic pattern of the shark attacks in June, beginning at North Carolina’s southern beaches and then subsequently extending to the northern Outer Banks of Dare and Hyde counties. Our shark survey data for June show no indication of this suggested temporal increase in great shark abundances, but such comparisons over a single month (two shark sampling trips) have little power to detect significant short-term changes in abundances. When we examine patterns in our full 43-year survey records, shark numbers regularly peak in the month of June.

Accounts offered by victims and witnesses suggest that the sharks in the recent attacks may have differed in length from five to eight feet, a difference large enough to imply that more than one individual shark, and perhaps multiple species, were involved. Even if several sharks have been involved in biting bathers, a single great shark is capable of inflicting injuries to all the victims.

Satellite tagging of several great white sharks on the East Coast over the past few years and subsequent tracking by the Ocearch program has revealed that these animals swim far and fast enough to have moved sequentially from the first June attack through each subsequent one and finally ending up off Surf City for the last attack. This is not to imply that an individual great white shark is responsible for the all the attacks or even for one of them. Based upon their aggressiveness towards humans, their coastal habitats and their known propensity to chase people at shallow wading depths, bull sharks may be the most likely candidate for some or all attacks.

To the degree that the northward seasonal migration of sharks explains why June produced high numbers of shark attacks, one might suggest that after the month of greatest risk in North Carolina has passed that we could reasonably anticipate that shark attacks off North Carolina will revert to very low frequencies and now fade from the news headlines.

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

It’s not surprising that the most innovative tech company in the world, Apple, is shaking up the conservation community with its bold decision to invest in 36,000 acres of American forests. Apple’s press release cites a commitment to ensure a steady supply of sustainably harvested timber for its paper and packaging needs.

What might be a surprise to some is that 3,600 acres of the forestland Apple is investing in is located here in southeastern North Carolina. Conservationists around the nation are justifiably envious of Brunswick County’s coup in capturing Apple’s investment.

In the world of conservation, like other enterprises, it’s frequently the case that investors–or, more accurately, funders–are drawn to places where others have already invested successfully. As Bruce Watkins, the legendary local deal-maker for the North Carolina Coastal Land used to say, “Money follows money.” Funders like “landscape scale” conservation work, rather than just protecting bits of forest here and there. Because in conservation, the larger the forest, the richer the variety of plants and animals that can live there.

And this, indeed, is the “secret weapon” that Brunswick County has in competing for conservation investments. It’s not just its world-class conservation resources—pine forests, pristine creeks, bird and wildlife habitat, and rare plants—all of which can take your breath away on a beautiful spring walk in the woods. It’s the fact that more than 70,000 acres of those spectacular lands are already protected. As Bill Holman of The Conservation Fund, Apple’s conservation partner in the transaction, said last week, “Protection of this 3,600-acre tract in Brunswick County builds upon the great conservation that The Nature Conservancy and the North Carolina Coastal Land Trust have done in the Green Swamp and in Brunswick County. “

Brunswick County’s conservation success story is the story of dozens of private landowners who’ve placed conservation easements on their lands. It’s the story of hunters and paddlers and folks who love to fish. It’s the story of foresters and timber companies who manage their lands sustainably. It’s the story of quiet but persistent conservationists at The Nature Conservancy and the Coastal Land Trust—and all the volunteers and members that support their work.

Crucially, it’s also the story of tax incentives like the N.C. Conservation Tax Credit–now defunct–and conservation grant programs such as the N.C. Natural Heritage Trust Fund and the Clean Water Management Trust Fund, which are now reduced.

This investment by Apple and The Conservation Fund shows that some of the best and brightest in corporate America consider southeastern North Carolina’s natural resources worth protecting.

As local conservationists here, on the ground, we couldn’t be happier. We’re proud to be involved in saving nature here in Brunswick County—from the Green Swamp to Town Creek to Orton Plantation to Bird Island. And we hope the spotlight placed on Brunswick County’s world-class natural resources will be seen all the way to Raleigh, as the General Assembly debates its support of our state’s conservation programs.

North Carolina forestland: If we save it, they will come.

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

North Topsail Beach is experiencing a disaster. More than three miles of the beach there have been replenished with sand containing large amounts of rock, from gravel to boulder size. The rock is being removed mechanically from the surface of the beach, but it may soon reappear because the entire sediment column on the beach is the same sand and rock combination that was at the surface.

Even if this weren’t the case, the intertidal zone between the high and low tides and beyond the low tide line into the wading zone will be rocky for years to come. A more irresponsible beach replenishment project is hard to imagine. The North Topsail Beach replenishment project is the worst I have seen in my studies of beach replenishment worldwide.

Who is responsible for this travesty?

• The consultants who apparently convinced state officials that the sand was of good quality. The presence of rock in the vicinity of the north end of North Topsail Beach is well known and well documented from studies by Stan Riggs of East Carolina University and his students. If the consultants had taken appropriate cores to look at the third dimension they would have discovered the rock problem. Why didn’t they stop the project when they realized what was happening?
• The mayor and his staff who are still claiming that project was successful. Why did they not stop the dredging when the rock began to appear on the beach?
• The N.C. Division of Coastal Management officials who have not fined or punished the town in some way for destroying a beach. Why didn’t these officials stop the replenishment if the city officials ignored the problem? Why does this agency exist?
• The Army Corps of Engineers is responsible for the quality of such beach projects whether or not they fund it. Instead, Corps officials seemed to imply that the city had no choice since the rocky area was where the town’s permit allowed them to dredge. Why didn’t Corps officials stop the project if the consultants, town and state officials didn’t do it?

What will this long-term catastrophe do to the town of North Topsail Beach? Once the word gets out that swimming at North Topsail is dangerous, it is likely that the beachfront rental business in coming years will take a big hit. There is a risk that swimmers and surfers will be injured and the town surely will be sued.

The North Topsail Beach replenishment project is another nail in the coffin of the N.C. coastal management program. Surely beach quality is a major responsibility of the state and surely the state was asleep at the switch.

It is a geologic fact that the continental shelf between Cape Lookout and Cape Fear, called Onslow Bay, is the least sandy continental shelf segment in the Carolinas, a reflection of the geologic history of Onslow Bay and the location of past river mouths as sea level rose and fell during the ice ages. This means that the potential for more beach replenishment disasters along Onslow Bay is real.

On a smaller scale, two shell-hash (oyster shell) replenishment projects were carried out on Emerald Isle in the past. Now, in the intertidal zone and beyond, in several locations on Bogue Banks it is necessary to wear shoes while swimming. Perhaps on North Topsail Beach, steel-toed boots will be required. I would hope my grandchildren will avoid swimming on North Topsail Beach.

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

When you picture the most idyllic location along a river or stream, it most likely includes a bank lined with trees and other vegetation. In coastal North Carolina the river bank may be bordered with marsh grass, cypress trees or shrubs of bay.

In the world of water-quality protection, they are called “riparian buffers.” According to Wikipedia, such a buffer is defined as “a vegetated area near a stream, usually forested, which helps shade and partially protect a stream from the impact of adjacent land uses. It plays a key role in increasing water quality in associated streams, rivers and lakes, thus providing environmental benefits.”

Riparian buffers are our most cost-effective tool to protect the quality of our drinking water, recreational and commercial fisheries, tourism and to protect shorelines from erosion. Buffers of native trees, shrubs, grass and flowers along waterways are the ideal way to slow runoff from rainstorms and filter out pollution. Streamside buffers are essential to keep our water clean and provide a home for a variety of plants and animals both in the water and on the land. These undisturbed areas of land along waterways also reduce downstream flooding and help to keep our stream banks from collapsing, protecting our homes and businesses. Conserving streamside buffers is socially valuable, economically viable and ecologically necessary.

But two bills working their way through the N.C. General Assembly will greatly reduce or eliminate buffer requirements that have been in place for almost 20 years and protected major coastal rivers.

With water quality declining across the state in the early 1990s, and specifically in the Neuse and Tar-Pamlico rivers, the state recognized the benefits of protecting riparian buffers and implemented a good and fair policy to protect these areas. The rules passed in the late 1990s limit the loss of these important buffers via allowable construction of roads or utility lines for example, by establishing a program to restore or replace buffers in other areas, or what is often called an off-set or mitigation program. Additionally, federal law requires that North Carolina address unhealthy rivers by adopting management tools and strategies to reduce pollution.

Since many of our coastal river systems suffer from nutrient pollution, the state opted for a flexible approach, requiring pollution control measures from municipal and industrial dischargers, agriculture and other sources, in addition to protection of riparian buffers.

If buffer protection is removed or reduced, these other sources will have to make up the difference, likely at much greater expense. Repealing or weakening buffer protection will not relieve the state of its obligation — nor our own moral obligation to our children — to restore the water quality of our unhealthy rivers; it will only shift that obligation to the towns, businesses and agricultural contributors of nutrients, whose permits and practices would be subject to more stringent permit requirements.

Riparian buffers are a low-cost, effective way to protect water quality. By weakening this simple tool, the legislature puts a greater burden of improving our water quality on the backs of towns, businesses and farmers who are already doing their part.

In my 12 years at the Pamlico-Tar Riverkeeper, I have yet to come across anyone who doesn’t say they support clean water and healthy rivers. Our state’s constitution specifically calls for protection of our natural resources when it says, “It shall be the policy of this State to conserve and protect its lands and waters for the benefit of all its citizenry, and to this end it shall be a proper function of the State of North Carolina and its political subdivisions to acquire and preserve park, recreational and scenic areas, to control and limit the pollution of our air and water, to control excessive noise, and in every other appropriate way to preserve as a part of the common heritage of this State its forests, wetlands, estuaries, beaches, historical sites, open lands and places of beauty.”

That’s why all of us who work to protect our natural resources are left scratching our heads. Why since 2011 have our elected leaders voted numerous times to weaken protections for clean water? The assault on clean water continues this year with these two bills that seek to add to exemptions for implementation of the buffer rules as well as other weakening provisions. Presumably these bills were filed to give developers and home builders a free pass on complying with buffer rules. However, if passed, this action will only result in a greater regulatory burden on towns, counties and our farmers who also have to comply with rules aimed at reducing nutrient pollution.

The danger in failing to protect water quality, specifically from nutrient pollution that buffers help prevent, is a well-established science. Just last year, Toledo, Ohio, as well as two North Carolina coastal counties’ drinking water supplies were threatened by dangerous algae blooms, a significant health threat. If we fail to protect water quality we also risk losing companies that choose to start, grow or relocate in North Carolina because of the high quality of life and business opportunities that clean water provides.

The legislature has shown its disregard for protecting our environment by reducing the Department of Environment and Natural Resources staff and budget and weakening or repealing important laws that protect North Carolina’s natural resources and public health. DENR administration has added to this problem by prioritizing “customer service” to polluting industries over North Carolina citizens.

The legislature and administrators certainly have the power to do that, but in the near term that means polluting and wrecking our state’s beautiful beaches, billion-dollar fishing industry and clean drinking water. In the long term, it will result in a heavier regulatory burden on everybody else, since, ultimately the rivers and estuaries have to be cleaned up.

As a mother of two beautiful, young daughters, I wish every day for a bright and hopeful future. I wish for them to live in a North Carolina that values clean water, healthy communities and healthy economies and one that respects public resources and values public input on how those resources are protected. If you agree, I ask you to engage with your elected state representative and senator and tell them why clean water is important for you.

Editor’s note: To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

After two years of fighting against N.C. State University over the fate of the Hofmann Forest, you would be surprised how hard it is to figure out how to respond now that, against all odds, it appears we may have actually won.

For those who haven’t been following this issue, the Hofmann Forest is a 79,000-acre tract that has been owned for the benefit of N.C. State since 1934. Hofmann is in Jones and Onslow counties, just west of the Croatan National Forest and just to the north of Camp Lejeune. The tract happens to be the largest piece of state-owned land in North Carolina, and the largest university research and teaching forest in the world. It is so large that three different rivers flow from the pocosin wetlands that make up its inner sanctum — the Trent, the White Oak and the New.

Despite all of these superlatives, in early 2013 N.C. State decided to put the land up for sale. Their official rationale was that they thought they could make more money to educate their conservation-minded students in the College of Natural Resources by liquidating Hofmann Forest and investing the proceeds in Wall Street. Never mind that the university endowment funds were still hurting from the stock market crash, and never mind the signal this would send to the rest of the world about the value of natural resource management as a career — or at least about the ethics and integrity of the university’s administrators, who were making this decision against the wishes of the forestry faculty, students and alumni.

We fought the sale with everything we could think of for two solid years, and despite proclamations by certain elements of the media that we were destined to lose, today it actually looks like we’ve won. The Midwestern corn farmer who planned on buying Hofmann and turning it into 50,000-acres of hog chow production backed out of the deal, due to some combination of our advocacy, the collapse in the price of corn and the increased vigilance by the EPA and Army Corps of Engineers over the status of wetlands on Hofmann. We can thank the N.C. Coastal Federation for alerting the agencies to possible violations.

The deal fell apart back before Christmas, and now, a few months later, the university has finally announced a new plan where they will retain almost all of the forest. As we pointed out all along, but as university officials are now admitting, it seems like they can make as much or more money over the long term by holding onto Hofmann Forest rather than selling it for short-term gain.

But we need to look at what we know about the new plan carefully to see if we can find any devils lurking in the details. One big issue that needs to be addressed is that university leaders are still not involving any other stakeholders in their decision-making process about the fate of Hofmann Forest. We’ve been calling for public participation all along, and yet this new plan, like the old plan, was crafted in secret and unveiled with no invitation to any groups to comment or make suggestions for improvement. That might be acceptable behavior for a private timber outfit, but this is a public university managing public land, and they need to be held to a much higher standard. So many people have a stake in what happens at Hofmann Forest — including beach-goers who visit Emerald Isle, which is just downstream from the forest at the mouth of the White Oak River.

We can’t complain about the plan to keep most of the forest in university hands, that part sounds good. And they are talking about selling easements on as much of the forest as they can, which is what we’ve been urging since day one of this campaign. We need to make one distinction though about the nature of the conservation easements that might be sold to the military or other interested parties. The military has a strong interest in keeping the sky dark over Hofmann at night, but industrial farms and open pit mines are pretty dark, too.

We need to stand firm as taxpaying citizens and insist that anyone who purchases the development rights, which is what easements are, needs to do it in a way that protects all of the land as a forest, not just generic open space. A sensible approach would be what is called a “working forest” easement, which still allows timber harvesting — Hofmann has a long history of use as a pine plantation — but can have requirements to improve the sustainability of the logging program at the forest, ideally to the tough standards set by the Forest Stewardship Council.

Unfortunately, the new plan from N.C. State does mention the possibility of selling off a few pieces of Hofmann here and there. Big picture, we are gravely concerned that the university may simply have switched from brashly selling the forest all at once, to a new, more sinister plan to break off pieces of the forest and sell them every few years, never enough acreage to cause a public stir.

We stand ready to refile our lawsuit, which was made moot by the N.C. Supreme Court when the previous deal fell through, if school officials try this approach, as our legal arguments stand whether the university is trying to sell 500 acres or 50,000 acres. They still can’t sell public land without doing an environmental impact assessment, and they still need to comply with Article 14, Section 5 of the N.C. Constitution, which states unequivocally that, “It shall be the policy of this State to conserve and protect its lands and waters for the benefit of all its citizenry…”

The press release by N.C. State announcing the new plan reveals the university’s interest in disposing three tracts: the 400-acre mitigation banks, the 1,000-acre existing farm field on the southwest part of Hofmann and the 4,000 acres in what’s known as “Block 10” on the south side of U.S. 17.

Of these, the sale of Block 10 is the most alarming, though we’re also concerned that the farm could become a thousand acres of exurban development right on the edge of the remainder of the forest.

“It shall be the policy of this State to conserve and protect its lands and waters for the benefit of all its citizenry…”

N.C. Constitution

Why is Block 10 so important? Well, my organization Wildlands Network specializes in advocating for wildlife habitat connectivity. Block 10 happens to be the part of Hofmann Forest that is closest to Camp Lejeune, and it forms a natural corridor between these two large tracts of public land. Many people who don’t work at Lejeune may not know this, but the Marine Corps base has some of the highest quality stands of longleaf pine left in North Carolina, and it is home to the last population of eastern diamondback rattlesnakes of any size in the state.

We need to make every effort to protect the Hofmann-to-Lejeune corridor, the Hofmann-to-Croatan corridor to the north and the Lejeune-to-Holly-Shelter corridor to the south. We would then end up with a half-million-acre network of wildlife habitat that also serves as a world-class outdoor recreation facility for the public and trains an incredible fighting force at Camp Lejeune.

Black bears, bobcats, warblers and rattlesnakes need this level of connectivity if they are going to withstand the continued onslaught of development that appears to jeopardize so much of coastal North Carolina over the next few decades.

So please stay tuned about Hofmann Forest, and help us make sure that this massive tract of public land stays intact — or even grows larger to meet the growing demands for hiking, hunting, bird-watching and clean water production in the region.

Block 10 will cost somewhere between $10-20 million to protect from development, but we’ll stand to gain so much more by securing all of “Doc” Hofmann’s incredible legacy for future generations to enjoy.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed here are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

The British mathematician and physicist Lord Kelvin, a foremost expert of his time, declared in 1895 that “Heavier-than-air flying machines are impossible.” Period. End of story. But about eight years later on North Carolina’s Outer Banks, the Wright brothers showed us that the experts and their predictions can quite often be wrong.

Every once in a while technologies come along that have the ability to change our world for the better, and they are almost always met with a mix of excitement, skepticism and fear. Think electricity, automobiles and computers as just a few examples.

Renewable energy is now one of those technologies. Wind and solar are already transforming our world and changing the way we power our lives while improving our environment and creating thousands of jobs in new industries. But they are also often met with that same mix of excitement, skepticism and fear. Offshore wind is a particularly interesting case study.

North Carolina is fortunate to have some undeniable advantages in offshore wind, including the largest resource on the East Coast, among the lowest construction costs in the nation, highly-skilled and competitive labor markets, and world class port facilities. The opportunities from offshore wind include both clean energy generation as well as attracting manufacturing and supply chain jobs to support this new U.S. industry, with many of those jobs needing to be located in coastal states.

These opportunities for clean energy and tens of thousands of jobs excite people. In fact, surveys consistently show 75 to 85 percent of people in North Carolina support offshore wind energy. So what’s the holdup?

Well, part of the reason is that even though there are almost 25 years of experience with offshore wind in Europe, this is new for us here in the United States, and that newness raises some questions. A common one is around tourism impacts. And like those previous technologies, the questions range from understandable concern due to lack of experience to overblown predictions of dire consequences by those opposing the new technology.

Let’s be clear about one thing — tourism is a major driver of our coastal economies that absolutely needs to be protected. On that point, there is broad agreement.

But a recent request from the N.C. Department of Environment and Natural Resources, or DENR, to the federal Bureau of Ocean Energy Management, or BOEM, to impose a statewide 24-nautical-mile exclusion zone for offshore wind, citing fear of tourism impacts, is misguided for a number of reasons.

First, it doesn’t protect tourism and could actually harm it. DENR cites four studies from New Jersey to support the request, but curiously only one actually looked at tourism. In that study, the negative effects estimated were for projects 3-6 miles offshore, but areas near Wilmington are already pushed out to 10 miles specifically to avoid visual impacts.

Both experience from Europe and studies in the United States, including the New Jersey study cited by DENR, suggest that wind farms 10 or more miles from shore could actually improve parts of the tourism economy, not harm it. That’s because wind farms can attract visitors, enable eco-tours and become fishing and diving hot spots. And according to a BOEM visualization study, at those distances the turbines would not even be visible from the shore most of the time, especially during the peak tourist seasons.

Second, the DENR request ignores the previous four years of work by local, state, federal and tribal stakeholders to identify areas for potential development and avoid areas of concern. Starting in 2010, BOEM has led a process to identify areas that avoid conflicts with things like sensitive environmental areas, commercial fishing, shipping and navigation, viewsheds and even shipwrecks. For example, over a million acres were excluded for military operations alone. It has not been a fast process, but it has been thorough, transparent and has identified low-conflict sites with good potential. An indiscriminate 24-nautical-mile exclusion zone would override years of work and effectively wipe out most of those current and future potential sites, all for little to no benefit.

Third, the request is not based on what other tourism-dependent states are doing. Most states are using 10 miles or less as a minimum distance, and some have projects proposed much closer to shore. Virginia’s areas are 25 miles offshore but that area was driven by military and shipping conflicts, not tourism concerns, and many stakeholders there would prefer options closer to shore.

Fourth, the practical effect of a 24-nautical-mile exclusion zone is that we would not see any development off of North Carolina for a long time. Pushing areas out that far imposes unnecessary cost burdens due to water depth and distance, likely driving development elsewhere.

Finally, it could prevent North Carolina from competing for the tens of thousands of supply chain jobs to support this new industry. Manufacturers will be attracted to states that embrace the industry, not those states that impose restrictions effectively banning offshore wind development in the near term.

Offshore wind is one of those once-in-a-generation economic opportunities to build an entirely new industry while protecting and enhancing our existing coastal industries like tourism, fishing, shipping and the military. Why would we kill it before it has a chance to get started?

History has told us time and again that for new technologies like electricity, automobiles, computers or even the first flying machines, there are always experts who say it wouldn’t pay off. Offshore wind is no different. But if we approach this opportunity with an open mind and make our decisions based on facts rather than fear, we just might embark on one of the next great industries to power our economy.

To stimulate discussion and debate, Coastal Review Online welcomes differing viewpoints on topical coastal issues. See our guidelines for submitting guest columns. The opinions expressed by the authors are not those of Coastal Review Online or the N.C. Coastal Federation.

The Obama administration’s decision to consider oil and natural gas exploration along the Mid-Atlantic seaboard is a tremendous opportunity and a welcome first step in recognizing the economic potential of and the bipartisan support for offshore development in North Carolina.

Of course, there are plenty of limitations in the president’s plan. Any drilling will have to be at least 50 miles off the coast, and there will only be one lease sale of acreage for the entire stretch of waters from Georgia to Virginia. In the same period, the Gulf of Mexico will see 10 lease sales.

Still, this is an important announcement for North Carolina since we would no longer be one of America’s most energy-poor states. Producing offshore oil and gas here could bring thousands of good jobs to North Carolina and help fund priorities like education, coastal restoration, inlet dredging and beach re-nourishment — especially if our state government gets 37.5 percent of the revenues, as proposed by U.S. Sens. Thom Tillis and Richard Burr. States on the Gulf Coast already get this revenue, and it’s only fair that North Carolina get equal treatment.

Even without revenue sharing, our state would see significant job creation and investment – potentially up to 35,000 jobs and an annual boost of $4 billion in economic activity, according to a study by Quest Offshore Resources. The same study found that North Carolina’s extensive port infrastructure at Morehead City and Wilmington would play a major role, drawing many of these jobs and investments to that area.

America’s oil and natural gas industry pays an average salary seven times higher than the minimum wage, and stock in the companies is predominantly owned by retirees and workers saving for retirement. In other words, this industry epitomizes the middle class economics being touted by President Obama.

Based on 30-year-old data gathered with outdated technology, the federal government thinks there are 4.7 billion barrels of recoverable oil and 37.5 trillion cubic feet of natural gas off the U.S. Atlantic coast. The actual amount could be much higher, and new surveys with today’s technology are critical to better understand the amount, location and type of resource we have offshore.

Opening the waters off North Carolina and other Atlantic states to oil and natural gas production will also keep the U.S. moving on the right track to even greater energy security, which also leads to greater national security.

After decades of worrying about our ever-increasing reliance on imported energy, the U.S. is now a global energy superpower. We are already the world’s No. 1 natural gas producer and will soon surpass Saudi Arabia as the world leader in crude oil production. All of this is possible thanks to technological advances that allow us to locate and tap oil and gas reserves that we couldn’t see or weren’t able to access before.

New technology and standards also make offshore exploration safer than ever. In recent years, industry experts and government regulators have examined every aspect of offshore safety measures and operations to identify potential improvements in spill prevention, intervention, safety management and response capabilities.

Some of the results include new and better standards and equipment for deep water well design and blowout prevention, as well as new abilities to rapidly cap subsea wells. In April 2010, there were 699 wells safely operating at depths of 5,000 feet or greater and another 3,900 wells at depths of 1,000 feet or more – and these efforts by industry and regulators have made the industry even safer. As the co-chairs of President Obama’s Oil Spill Commission said last year, “offshore drilling is safer” now than it was in 2010.

Growing up near the coast along the Cape Fear River, I know firsthand the beauty and value of our coastal resources. I have been an avid sportsman my entire life and understand that energy development – be it wind, oil and gas, or anything else – must be done safely and responsibly.

Offshore oil and natural gas development would do much to diversify and strengthen our economy. In the Gulf of Mexico, tourism and fishing have coexisted with offshore energy for more than 60 years, and both remain strong and vibrant sectors of the local economy. Gulf fishing alone is a $980 million a year industry that supports 120,000 jobs. And to quote the co-chairs of the president’s commission once more, “tourism and resulting revenues along the Gulf coast are setting records” while “unemployment rates in most Gulf states are below the national average.”

Higher American oil and gas production has helped shield us from the crises and instability that have hit key oil producing regions around the world from the Middle East to Russia to Venezuela. Gasoline prices have fallen by well over a dollar a gallon, which AAA says will save Americans $75 billion in fuel costs this year.

President Obama’s offshore plan for the Mid-Atlantic seaboard holds great promise for the state. We can bring more balance to our economy and help further strengthen our energy security, while protecting our environment and preserving the quality of life we all love about our state. That’s an opportunity that we need to make sure we don’t miss.