Monday, May 11, 2015

Two Fun Facts




Here's a fun fact for you:  If you live in New Orleans, you're under water.  Like, right now, there is water higher than your front door.  This panoramic picture is from the Mississippi River Levee less than a mile upriver from my house, taken just a few days ago.  Even though this is some of the highest ground in the city, you can see that the river level is higher than the houses on the road behind the levee.  If the levee weren't there, we'd all be wet.

That street you see (the street the houses are on, not the path on top of the levee) is at about 7 feet above sea level.  Below is the record of the water level in the Mississippi River in New Orleans since October.  You can see that the river has been up above 7 feet since early March, and looks to remain up there for a while longer, so the people in those houses have been looking up at the bottoms of boats for months.



I think that there are two possible reactions that you could have here.  On the one hand you could nod sagely, stroke your chin, and declare with authority that "nature will always have her way" or some such.  And then go buy a snorkel.  Or you could recognize that this happens pretty much every year during the Spring flood.  If you're in New Orleans from March to May there's an excellent chance that you're under water, and it simply isn't a problem.  Every year the river rises above Southeast Louisiana, and ever year people go about their business with little or no interruption because the river levees are so reliable.

The lesson I like to take from all this is that, while doing so is no small task, it's perfectly possible to wall off water.  We do it every year, and the flood protection system along the river is sound enough that everybody in the city can simply go about their business without any special arrangements.  And if it's perfectly possible to wall off water from the river then shouldn't it also perfectly possible to wall off water from the sea?  In fact it is.  Which means that the even more important message here is that there's no inherent contradiction in having a sustainable city that's beneath sea level, which parts of New Orleans certainly are.

So next  time you hear some dimwitted congressperson telling you that no manmade structure can possibly hold back the ocean you should feel free to ignore her.  And, while we're at it, here's another fun fact before I go: I live in the Lower Ninth Ward and I'm on some of the highest ground in the city.  Did you know that those both could be true?





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*For the curious, I said that the street in the picture is 7 feet above sea level, but what I really meant was that the street is at 7 feet of elevation relative to the North American Vertical Datum of 1988, or NAVD88.  The datum is essentially an agreed upon "zero" level, which is important when you realize that the sea goes up and down all the time.  The river stage is referenced to that same datum, which, in South Louisiana, is a pretty close approximation to the mean sea level.  Strangely that's not true everywhere;  measuring sea level is much more complicated than you might expect.



Thursday, July 8, 2010

The Lasting Impacts of Berms and Jetties

Louisiana has a lengthy wish list of master plans and coastal visions(see, for example this or this ) that tend to stress two things above all else: The need for a strong partnership of federal, state, and local governments to work towards an effectively managed coast, and the need for sound scientific guidance in the decision making process. The partnership and the guidance form the base on which restoration and management efforts are supposed to be built. In fact, the plans themselves aren't even particularly important when compared with the functional framework. The introduction to Louisiana's Master Plan for a Sustainable Coast makes it clear that that the plan's contents are meant to evolve "as our understanding of the landscape improves and technical advances are made," but that the partnership is expected to endure.

Because the partnership is so important, it's troubling to see state and local officials decide that the scientists and the federal government aren't full partners unless they agree with everything that the state or a parish wants to do, experience and expertise be damned. Oil spill news has come awfully fast since the sinking of the BP Deepwater Horizon rig on April 20th. To bring everybody up to speed, here is a brief chronology of oil spill events, emphasizing the political battle over the berms and the rock jetties.

April 20-April 23
The BP Deepwater Horizon suffers a blowout, leading to the ongoing spill in the Gulf.

April 23-early June
Poor booming practices largely waste one of the most important resources in fighting the spill.

May 11 - May 27
As soon as it became clear that the oil spill would be a major, long term issue, Plaquemines Parish President Billy Nungusser reached into the secret safe behind his bookcase and pulled out his emergency barrier island restoration plan, or berm plan. Nungusser surely thought, when the plan was originally formulated, that it had no chance of being funded, and so it seems that he never bothered to run it past anybody with any expertise on barrier island systems. If he had sent the plan out for a bit of review, he surely would have found out that certain elements of his plan were likely to do massive harm to the barrier island system. But he hadn't, so he happily submitted the existing plan to the Corps for permitting.

The coastal scientific community in Louisiana, which is quite large, and which until late April/early May of this year felt like a respected participant in discussions about Louisiana's coastal future, was quietly watching the news and waiting to be contacted for the opportunity to dispense sage advice. But instead of receiving state officials looking for help with writing an oil-protection plan, scientists began to find out through the grapevine that there already was a plan making its way through the permitting process. As elements of the plan begin to trickle out, the coastal scientific community as a whole essentially shot coffee through its collective nose in a classic cartoon display of shattered equanimity. Federal scientists at the various regulatory agencies began to panic as they came under intense political pressure to approve a plan that they thought would do more harm than good. University and independent scientists were fuming that they were not even consulted on a plan of this magnitude. And suddenly, with almost no warning whatsoever, the partnership of federal, state and local officials, and scientists was broken into two teams. In one corner, calling for immediate action, and damn the consequences, were the state and parish officials, while in the other corner sat the federal regulatory bureaucracy and the community of coastal scientists, not so much calling for anything in particular as trying to regain their bearings and put the kaibosh on some of the truly awful ideas then under consideration.

May 27
Fast forward a few weeks, and the Corps approved the portion of the berm plan that was least likely to result in significant degradation of the barrier island system, and sat on the rest.

Early June - July 6
Jefferson Parish, incredibly, reacted to the denial of most of the berm permit by submitting an even more outlandish request to build rock dikes across 70-80% of several tidal passes heading into Barataria Bay, and the Corps, with a distinct feeling of deja vu rejected the plan as potentially destructive, though this time the plan is rejected in its entirety. The Jindal administration, which had, for lack of any constructive ideas, been ratcheting up its rhetorical war on the federal government and on the scientific community for weeks, put its fingers deep into its own ears and erupted into namecalling.
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I am not terribly worried that berms, rock dikes, levees, walls, etc. will be built that will directly harm the barrier island system. It seems to me that there are enough good people in the regulatory agencies to ensure that nothing actively harmful is done to the coastal landscape. But while the danger of constructing counterproductive structures may be small, there is real political damage being done every time that an unreasonable request is denied. The relationship between the state and the scientific community is toxic right now, and that breach will require significant mending. Perhaps even more importantly, there is significant mistrust of scientists by the general population, partially a result of the permit denials. It only takes a short glance through the comments section of this recent editorial by retired professor Len Bahr to see that the Jindal administration's antipathy towards scientists has taken hold with the public.

Scientists, for their part, have not done a very good job of explaining to the public why these plans are ill-conceived, and it's easy to see why a public that has long supported comprehensive barrier island restoration would support berms and jetties in the absence of additional information (Len Bahr himself supported the berm plan before details became available. ). Unfortunately, because scientists have not been able to explain to the public why the berms and the dikes are bad ideas, and because the Jindal administration and others has made actively misleading statements about their long term effectiveness at protecting against hurricanes, there is a trust and communications gap between the public and the scientific community that will be significantly harder to repair than the gap with the politicians.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Mr. Oil Boom

More pipe clearing here. Apologies to anyone who's already read this.
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bob: Do Something!
slob: Do what??
b: I don't care, Anything,
Just do It now, no time to think.

s: Oil boom.
b: Oil what?
s: Oil boom.
b: Oil Boom. Who's that? What does he do? Can he help?
s: It, sir. And yes.
b: Throw him in the water!
s: It. And where?
b: ANYWHERE GOD DAMMIT AREN'T YOU LISTENING???

b: Fishermen.
s: What?
b: (urgently, triumphantly)
Fishermen have boats.
They can throw him in the water!
s: It, sir.
b: Get me a fisherman.

b: You there! Fisherman! Take Oil Boom and put him somewhere.
fisher: How does it work?
b: You just throw him in the water and he scares away the oil.
s: It, sir. And we really should find out how to do this prop....
b: Shut up. Don't you want to save the coast??
s: Yes, but sir, we need to tell them h.....
b: (screeches)
JUST THROW IT IN THE WATER!!!

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The most frustrating part of the ongoing BP Oil Catastrophe has been watching our responsible leaders fritter away time and resources on highly visible actions at the expense of highly effective ones. Instead of carefully placing oil boom at the mouths of tidal inlets, we're laying them out in front of sandy beaches, in the surf zone around islands, lashed to bridges and pilings; wherever the darts in the command center hit the map. Instead of carefully planning to deploy the limited boom resources where they would have the maximum effect, and then carefully executing the plan, we tossed all the boom that we had on some oyster boats and said "Go git 'em, boys!"

What a damn waste. A day or two after the first large scale boom deployments, the governor of Alabama started complaining that most of the boom had come free and was washing up on shore. Here in Louisiana, oil has washed right over booms and into pelican rookeries. Videos have surfaced showing booms being overtopped by jet ski wakes. I drove to Pass Christian on Wednesday, and happened to see that their booming strategy was to tie the boom to the bridge. The tide was coming in, and water was actively flowing over the top of the booms.

The epa publishes guides on booming techniques that show how to use booms to deflect oil in fast moving rivers to the banks, where it can be sucked up by vacuum trucks. The guides give a range of deployment configurations for use in different situations. If you can collect oil on only one bank, you use a cascade configuration. If you can collect on both banks, you use a chevron. If you need boats to be able to use the channel while you have it boomed off, you use a staggered chevron. You can consult a chart to determine what the angle of the boom to the shore should be for a particular water speed. These situations are totally analagous to booming off tidal passes, but yesterday we started getting reports that heavy, thick oil was coming through Barataria Pass into Barataria Bay, and to the best of my knowledge there was no boom deployed in the pass itself.

By now half of the world has seen the Oil Booming 101 video and article. (if you haven't, google them. it's worth it) But somehow the message of "fucking proper fucking booming" hasn't filtered up the the yahoos in charge. Oil boom is just about the one resource that we have that we know can work, that does not involve adding extra toxins to the system or involve building made-to-fail sand piles, and that shouldn't really be controversial at all. But as with anything, it only works if it's used properly. We have the manpower. We have the booms. There is no shortage of boats or anchors or rope. The only thing missing seems to be a goddamn plan!

Follow these links to learn more about oil booming than every emergency manager on the Gulf Coast.

Unique Challenges of Booming Fast Flowing Rivers: Boom Deployment Techniques and Strategies
http://www.epa.gov/oem/docs/oil/fss/fss04/c_oskins2_04.pdf

Applying Faster Water Booming Techniques to Coastal Environments: Booming The Bolinas Lagoon Preserve
http://www.epa.gov/oem/docs/oil/fss/fss09/oskinsbooma.pdf

Oil Spill Response in Fast Currents - A Field Guide
http://www.epa.gov/OEM/docs/oil/fss/fss02/hansenpaper.pdf

Massachusetts DEP Oil Spill Training
http://www.mass.gov/dep/cleanup/os/Pages/Boom-Deploy.html

Friday, July 2, 2010

Everybody Knows

I thought I'd devote the first real post in this blog to explaining why the sand berm idea was doomed from day 1. The sciencey parts of this post are for those among my readership who are not professional coastal geologists, but I hope that everyone can get a little something out of this. The material here may be dated by a couple of weeks, but I figure it's best to clear the pipes to make way for some new stuff later.

OK. Berms. Actually, first, a little bit of background: Offshore of the barrier islands, the sea floor takes on a characteristic steepness, or slope, which is largely dictated by the prevailing wave climate and the type and size of available sediment. You can think of that characteristic slope as a sort of geological goal for the island system, and you can imagine that the system would have to work back towards that goal if ever it were pushed away. So if, for example, some enterprising individual were to walk out past the surf zone and dig a hole, then the system would have to find a way to fill that hole back up in order to reattain the desired slope.

So where do you get the material to fill up the hole? To answer that, I introduce the term "depth of closure." Depth of closure is the depth beyond which sediments are not exchanged between the barrier island system and the offshore marine system. Think of it this way: If you stand on the beach, just landward of the breaking waves, you will notice that each incoming wave brings some sand onto the beach, and each outgoing wave takes some sand away. If you walk out a little bit further, you would find that the sand is still moving back and forth, but that it isn't happening quite as quickly as when you're standing right where the breakers are. Eventually, if you walked out far enough, you would get to water so deep that the waves barely affect the bottom, and no sediments are exchanged between the barrier island system and the marine system. This is the depth of closure. Any material that the system uses to fill a hole would have to come from inside the depth of closure, which is to say, from the barrier island system.

This all gets back to berms pretty easilly. The battiest part to the original plan was to dig a trench about a mile offshore of the Chandeleur Islands, and use the excavated material to build a sand berm in front of the islands. We know from the discussion above that digging a hole would be exactly the type of shock that would force the system to work to return to its equilibrium shape. Exactly how the island system would accomplish this is not something that I know to predict but there's a serious risk that the islands themselves would basically sink into the sea as they borrowed sediments from upill to fill the trench.

The idea that digging a trench offshore of a barrier island could threaten the stability of the island is not cutting edge science. It's very old news, and anybody with an undergraduate degree in coastal sciences should have been able to see why digging the trench would have been such a bad idea. The mere fact that the plan was proposed at all was terrifying, and became one of the first indications that the prevailing response to the oil spill was naked panic.

Coastal scientists in Louisiana woke up one morning to read in national newspapers that the state had fast tracked a coastal management plan without consulting any of them. And once the permit application started making the rounds, the situation looked even bleaker. The original permit application was a joke. It was three pages long, and contained almost no useful information. Those three pages were being used to explain a project that was predicted to cost $250 million or more. You can read the permit, along with some very interesting agency comments, here.

So what's happening now?

Well, a certain sort of subdued sanity seems to have prevailed during the permitting process. Knowledgeable individuals at the various reviewing agencies pitched a fit, and were able to take most of the badness out of the plan. There is no trench anymore, and only a small number of the proposed berms were approved. Instead, material for the approved berms is now being dredged from a number of point sources around the coast. This, to my mind, was a much better solution, and has the potential (albeit accidentally) to have some restoration benefits in the longer term.

But the cat is out of the bag. The Governor seems increasingly unhinged as he lashes out at the federales for not doing what he wants(and NOW, dammit. stop thinking and react!) while his top coastal advisor has been relegated to explaining that the lack of thought put into the plan was a deliberate attempt to add flexibility.(link) Meanwhile nobody seems to be in charge, and nobody sees a clear path forward.

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Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died.
------------------------------------Leonard Cohen------

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Here's The Crabiblog

Hi All. Here's the Crabiblog. I've been writing a bunch of short pieces recently on barrier islands, sand berms, the BP Oil Spill, Louisiana coastal politics, etc., but they've mostly been emails to friends, notes on Facebook, or posted in the comments section of other coastal blogs. So Crabiblog is my effort to collect my work in one place. For the time being I'm going to be posting mostly on Louisiana coastal issues, and especially the oil spill and its fallout, but I can't be held responsible if my interests wander to other topics.

Hope you enjoy. Please comment vigorously.


-crabi