WHEN Travis Fifield decided to raise his lobster wharf by nearly half a metre a few years ago, some thought he was going overboard.
The fourth generation to run Fifield Lobster in Stonington, Maine, he faced scepticism as he prepared for the rising seas and violent storms he knew climate change would bring.
His foresight was vindicated in January when two fierce storms battered Maine’s coast in a single week, leaving devastation in their wake.
Located on a rugged granite peninsula, Stonington is home to Maine’s largest lobster fleet. The storms’ impact was so severe that it silenced any lingering doubts about the necessity for urgent action.
Wharves were destroyed, roads flooded, and the town’s vital waterfront infrastructure took a hammering.
“The storm surge in January – we never thought it could happen here,” says Fifield, who also serves on the town’s Select Board.
“But when you’re smacked in the face with it, it’s hard to deny.”
Now, the island town of just 1,000 people is rapidly planning to fortify its wharves, roads and buildings.
At Isle au Haut Boat Services, managers intend to raise the dock by over half a metre and add a concrete top to withstand surges.
The Stonington Lobster Co-op, which serves as home base for 90 of the town’s 350 lobster boats, will undergo similar upgrades.
The storms in January were a wake-up call, but they were only the latest challenge for the town’s fishermen.
In recent years, they’ve faced stricter federal regulations designed to protect endangered whales, limiting their fishing days and equipment.
At the same time, coastal property prices have soared, driven up by outsiders, further squeezing the town’s resources.
Linda Nelson, Stonington’s economic and community development director, sums it up: “We’ve got a wall of water coming at us, and a wall of money coming at us, and we’re fighting these two big forces.”
The state of Maine has responded, pouring millions into storm recovery and disaster planning.
In April, the legislature approved US$60mil (RM258mil) for storm recovery, and in May, Governor Janet Mills created a commission to develop strategies to protect the state’s infrastructure from rising seas and extreme weather. Nelson co-chairs the commission, which includes experts in climate science and engineering.
In Stonington, the causeway that connects the town to the mainland is under constant threat from increasingly severe storms.
During January’s storms, flooding and downed power lines cut off the causeway, halting the transport of live lobsters – a time-sensitive operation critical to the town’s economy.
Though plans to raise the causeway were already in place before the storms hit, it will be years before the project is completed.
Another causeway, linking the village of Oceanville to the town, also became impassable during the storms, with over a metre of water surging across it. This blocked the only access route for trucks transporting granite from one of Maine’s last working quarries.
Kathleen Billings, who has served as Stonington’s town manager for 15 years, acknowledges the growing fear.
“You can’t keep fixing docks over and over, when it’s US$200,000 (RM861,000) or US$300,000 (RM1.2mil) every time,” she says.
“That’s the tension – will you fix it again? And again? Maybe it’s three strikes and you’re out.”
But for those who live off the sea, there are few alternatives.
“People say, ‘Well, just retreat,’” says Fifield. “We can’t retreat. We have to be here.”
Making matters worse, many coastal property owners have discovered the limits of flood insurance.
It’s mandatory for those with loans, but it doesn’t cover “over-water” structures like docks and wharves – a devastating blow for fishermen already struggling to recover from repeated storms.
Monique Coombs, director of community programmes for the Maine Coast Fishermen’s Association, highlights the dire consequences. As storms increase in intensity, uncertainty grows.
January’s storms, driven by southeasterly winds instead of the usual northeasters, surprised many towns. These winds pushed water towards the coast, amplifying the flooding and damage.
State climatologist Sean Birkel says it’s still unclear whether these types of storms will become more common, but the unpredictability is unsettling.
In Stonington, storms aren’t the only climate-related threat.
The town, which relies entirely on rainfall for its drinking water, has faced severe droughts in recent years, forcing it to truck in water around the clock.
Town officials have had to develop new strategies to maintain affordable housing as well. The allure of remote work, spurred by the Covid-19 pandemic, has priced many locals out of the housing market.
Last year, Stonington passed an ordinance limiting the number of short-term rentals in an effort to preserve year-round housing for locals.
The town has also established a new resiliency fund, aiming to attract donations from seasonal residents.
The fund will help Stonington buy private waterfront land to ensure access for fishermen and create new workforce housing, in a bid to compete with wealthy outsiders making cash offers.
Despite these efforts, a sense of unease lingers.
After the January storms, Fifield spent tens of thousands of dollars repairing his wharf. Determined to protect it, he installed four granite mooring rocks, each weighing over two tonnes, to anchor the structure in future storms.
“People said, ‘You only need two,’” Fifield recalls with a laugh.
“But I didn’t care – I was happy to go overboard.”
For Garrett Aldrich, operations manager at Isle au Haut Boat Services, the need for stronger, higher docks is obvious.
But even with detailed plans and federal funding, he remains anxious about what lies ahead.
“There’s so much that needs to happen, and I don’t think we’ll be able to keep up with all of it,” he says. “I think there will be more damage, and more pain, before we’re done.”
Back at town hall, Billings works tirelessly to secure funding for the town’s climate adaptation projects. Even on a calm September day, a gentle breeze carries with it the ever-present worry about the future.
“It’s always in the back of my mind,” she admits. “What’s next winter going to be like?” — ©2024 The New York Times Company
