Kiosk - A Lonely Coast (page 3)

A Lonely Coast
(conclusion)

           The breakwater is at a turning point. Some members of the community — mostly the vocal members of the Surfrider Foundation, a local environmental group focused on the vitality of California beaches — are calling for its removal. In fact, Ed Hendricks and the Long Beach chapter of the Surfrider Foundation pioneered a “Sink the Breakwater” campaign. They believe that the “ sinking” or reduction of the breakwater by 20 feet will bring vitality and health back to the community by restoring beaches and waves, attracting tourists, and increasing beach front and other property values. Their hope for the future of the region lies in the idea that restoring the waves and the beach will bring increased tourism, money, and a new identity for the city. The restoration of a surf culture brings hope, they say; perhaps the gray, muted, industrialized city can return to its former glorious, natural state. Perhaps the return of a surf culture and a beautiful natural environment can change the social habitat of the city.
           Ed Hendricks says that convincing the city that the beach is more than a pawn in the game of commerce is a difficult task. “It’s politics,” Hendricks says. “We have a lot of stakeholders in this now. You can’t convince ‘em.” While there is much grassroots support for the reemergence of a surf and beach culture, city officials are concerned about preserving economic interests. “You have to put an economic spin on it. Let’s spend our time on the port — staff, commissioners. It behooves us to do so,” Hendricks says. He is working with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association to produce an economic study that puts a price on the value of the beach. He modeled the study on price analysis techniques used by economists. The current value is $120 million annually.
Still, the demolition of the breakwater is not likely to come soon, nor will it result in a drastic change. “It would be a mistake to imagine that any one incremental environmental change will change the lives and circumstances of the people living in the city,” D.J. Waldie says. Waldie, is a retired official from Lakewood, a Long Beach suburb , is the author of Holy Land: A Suburban Memoir and an acclaimed commentator on the suburban culture of Southern California.
The possible increase in tourism and property values that a revitalized beach might offer would certainly be an asset to the city; however, it would in all likelihood only benefit a small segment of the population. Long Beach already has one example of this: The Pike.
           The Pike was built in 1902 as an amusement park. Known as “The Walk of a Thousand Lights,” it was an entertainment district that featured carousels, circus acts, bumper cars, a midway, and a rollercoaster called The Cyclone. Postcards from Long Beach in the first half of the 20th century proudly display the majestic beachside culture that now exists only in anecdote. The black and white postcards – available at the Long Beach Heritage Museum – display a long pier and a rampant tourist culture. The area has since been renovated, and now features the majestic Queen Mary, the Long Beach Aquarium of the Pacific, as well as various upscale hotels and commercial food chains like Yard House. The only remnants of its heyday are the empty arcade and dingy pastel-colored carousel that lie a few yards away from the Yard House restaurant and brewery. The Walk of a Thousand Lights is now the walk of chain restaurants and valet parking.
            The renovation of The Pike has certainly been advantageous for the city in that it serves as a spot for dining and nightlife. Not only does this attract local tourism, but commerce and business as well. Clearly, this strategic move to renovate Long Beach’s downtown district is motivated by financial interests. Gentrification was the focus of the project, Waldie says. The city “put federal, state, and local money into projects that replaced the immigrant nonwhite population with a population that has more disposable income. It’s a bipolar social structure. If amenities to the beach were improved, who would benefit?”
            The world of Long Beach was one place. Then the breakwater went up. Now, that world is another place. A gentrified, wave-lapped beach would attract tourism from the suburbs, certainly. And there would be some economic gain for Long Beach itself. But surely it would follow the broad outlines of The Pike’s renovation project in that these amenities would only be patronized by a small, wealthy segment of the population, despite the fact that it remains a public beach. This makes it difficult to return to a time when the majority of Long Beach’s residents could afford a weekend enjoying the beachfront attractions. While proponents of the “Sink the Breakwater” campaign clamor for a return to a former state of paradise, this may be nostalgia for a mythical past. The reality and heart of Long Beach now lie in the commerce, trade, and port traffic that are its lifeblood.
            Tom Modica, Long Beach Manager of Government Affairs, is diplomatic on the subject of the breakwater. While he expressed concern about water quality and a lack of tourism, he is quick to mention the oil islands, shipping operations, piers, and homes. “We need to take these areas into account and make sure we do nothing to harm them,” he said. “We need to take into account what’s there now and improve on it.” Modica thinks a successful solution can restore the beach “without harming the environment: the port, peninsula, oil industry. We don’t want negative impacts on these operations.”
            The $90,000 city-funded reconnaissance study, completed in July 2009, recommended several options, none of which included the removal of the breakwater. Modica thinks that a reconfiguration of the breakwater and structural changes to the L.A. River are more likely. “Removing the breakwater would degrade the ecosystem,” he said, explaining that several marine species now reside in, on, and around the man-made breakwater; complete removal would be a threat to their (un) natural environment. Modica’s words indicate that sinking or removing the breakwater completely would not be in the city’s best economic interests. The breakwater keeps the water level, allowing for the transport of millions of dollars of consumer goods and electronics from Asia. He worries that the oil and shipping industries would be imperiled by any changes made to the breakwater, both of which are a mainstay of the current city economy.
            The issue of the breakwater will not find resolution soon. The financial interests and ecological interests of the community are at odds with each other. This is often the case when man alters his natural environment. The long-term effects prove dismal, and the city of Long Beach is no exception. The interests of commerce, business, oil profit and exploitation overpower the community interest in beauty, wonder, recreation, and true enjoyment of nature.
            The small stretch of beach that faces the breakwater may not see waves and clean water in the near future. The political debate that surrounds the removal or alteration of the breakwater prevents the beach from returning to a place where people can revel in the existence of the sea, a natural force both powerful and captivating. The beach may never again be a spot where children can squirm on their towels, explore tide pools with their parents, or experience the squelch of their toes in the firm, wet sand . It may never again be a place where couples steal kisses under the moonlight, or where veteran surfers fuse their flesh with the waves or pass their knowledge on to the next generation. It may never again be these things, for it is Long Beach, the seaside city with a breakwater and a lonely coast.