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“Erosion concern” is exactly correct for this particular location on this particular island, a place I knew very well. The rising sea levels are not particularl

by jl2718 2y ago

“Erosion concern” is exactly correct for this particular location on this particular island, a place I knew very well. The rising sea levels are not particularly concerning in this situation. But why is it eroding so fast? Global warming? Maybe, but much more likely it is the fact that this once extremely verdant forest island has been shorn down to mere grasslands by environmental activists of all people. You see, most of that part of the island is owned by the Land Bank, which is a conservation trust that levies a 2% tax on every real estate transaction, for the stated purpose of purchasing and preserving land in its natural state. Well, so it was, but now they’ve gotten into the golf business, and their last major purchase was a $9M 8-bedroom house for seasonal staff at the golf course. Incidentally, they’ve also discovered a rare flower that they’ve never observed to grow in the thick brush and tree-cover that naturally grows there. So of course they’ve brought over a fleet of earth-shaving leviathan machines to fix nature’s mistake. My labyrinth of sandy-foot green running tunnels was cut down to awkward winding paths on a plain. The deer thinned out, the ground foul disappeared, the armies of migratory birds moved on. When the late October hurricanes swooped in on the island, you could see the aftermath of dead root systems strewn about the beaches, multi-millennial clays beaten back a few feet. It takes a lot to get those feet back. Root systems push out into the newly laid sand in Spring time to get access to partially-desalinated ocean minerals. If enough of them hold on to it together, they can keep it. Erosion is exactly the word to understand. It is not the ocean swallowing the land, but rather nibbling at it, defenseless, rootless, barren.

Kon-Peki 2y ago
> this once extremely verdant forest island I don’t think you will have many supporters for this claim. > Nantucket! Take out your map and look at it. See what a real corner of the world it occupies; how it stands there, away off shore, more lonely than the Eddystone lighthouse. Look at it- a mere hillock, and elbow of sand; all beach, without a background. There is more sand there than you would use in twenty years as a substitute for blotting paper. Some gamesome wights will tell you that they have to plant weeds there, they don’t grow naturally; that they import Canada thistles; that they have to send beyond seas for a spile to stop a leak in an oil cask; that pieces of wood in Nantucket are carried about like bits of the true cross in Rome; that people there plant toadstools before their houses, to get under the shade in summer time; that one blade of grass makes an oasis, three blades in a day’s walk a prairie; that they wear quicksand shoes, something like Laplander snow-shoes; that they are so shut up, belted about, every way inclosed, surrounded, and made an utter island of by the ocean, that to the very chairs and tables small clams will sometimes be found adhering as to the backs of sea turtles. But these extravaganzas only show that Nantucket is no Illinois.
- jl2718 2y ago
  I can explain. This bit of Melville exposes some uncomfortable truths about the age in which he was living, the "little ice age". First of all, he's writing from the perspective of a whaler, who may never have seen anything of the island but Coatue, where they would dissemble their ship for transport across the deep sands into the safety of the harbor for winter. The main inlet was too shallow for transport, and later had to be dug out to bring in ships for development of the town. Around then or soon thereafter the bulk of the island was used for farmland. The location of the house in that article was called "Ram's Pasture", but I had observed it to be impassably dense for such a use, so I was curious and sought to discover why it was once so barren. It turns out that the original natives were quite reckless with fire. They would use it as a hunting tool, and quickly depopulated the entire island of all large flora and fauna, leaving the Wampanoag to find subsistence only in the shores thereafter. When Europeans negotiated land rights, they started grazing ruminants, but preferred not to burn, so the forests grew back rather quickly, and the farmers eventually left. This had been happening all over North America, and the rewilding effect was so dramatic that it dropped the temperature of the earth. Property rights saved the world. You won't hear that from most urban hipster environmental activists, but it was the second time I had heard it, first from the eco-resort villages rewilding the East side of Dominica. There 1000 whiteys pay $1000 each to see giant leatherbacks drift in to lay their eggs, but a local with a hatchet got there first for the $100 he'll make selling turtle soup. I digress, but it's really the same thing. The wild western reaches of the island became irresistible to the ultra-wealthy, and those rude pastures grew into some of the most desirable real estate in the world. It's now going back in the other direction, and you can probably tell I don't think this is a good idea. Nature there has tremendous financial value, as single-family estates comprise 95% of tax revenues, but the tourist industry is 95% of the population, more organized, and more vocal by orders of magnitude, and they want golf courses and bars. The truth is that development destroys value. People will pay a lot to be left alone with nature. So that's what happened. Natives who discovered the land quickly destroyed it, then property rights brought nature back for a bit, and now populism is giving it back to the masses to do as they wish, but it seems the ocean will have the final say.

by jl2718 2y ago

Kon-Peki 2y ago

> this once extremely verdant forest island I don’t think you will have many supporters for this claim. > Nantucket! Take out your map and look at it. See what a real corner of the world it occupies; how it stands there, away off shore, more lonely than the Eddystone lighthouse. Look at it- a mere hillock, and elbow of sand; all beach, without a background. There is more sand there than you would use in twenty years as a substitute for blotting paper. Some gamesome wights will tell you that they have to plant weeds there, they don’t grow naturally; that they import Canada thistles; that they have to send beyond seas for a spile to stop a leak in an oil cask; that pieces of wood in Nantucket are carried about like bits of the true cross in Rome; that people there plant toadstools before their houses, to get under the shade in summer time; that one blade of grass makes an oasis, three blades in a day’s walk a prairie; that they wear quicksand shoes, something like Laplander snow-shoes; that they are so shut up, belted about, every way inclosed, surrounded, and made an utter island of by the ocean, that to the very chairs and tables small clams will sometimes be found adhering as to the backs of sea turtles. But these extravaganzas only show that Nantucket is no Illinois.

jl2718 2y ago
I can explain. This bit of Melville exposes some uncomfortable truths about the age in which he was living, the "little ice age". First of all, he's writing from the perspective of a whaler, who may never have seen anything of the island but Coatue, where they would dissemble their ship for transport across the deep sands into the safety of the harbor for winter. The main inlet was too shallow for transport, and later had to be dug out to bring in ships for development of the town. Around then or soon thereafter the bulk of the island was used for farmland. The location of the house in that article was called "Ram's Pasture", but I had observed it to be impassably dense for such a use, so I was curious and sought to discover why it was once so barren. It turns out that the original natives were quite reckless with fire. They would use it as a hunting tool, and quickly depopulated the entire island of all large flora and fauna, leaving the Wampanoag to find subsistence only in the shores thereafter. When Europeans negotiated land rights, they started grazing ruminants, but preferred not to burn, so the forests grew back rather quickly, and the farmers eventually left. This had been happening all over North America, and the rewilding effect was so dramatic that it dropped the temperature of the earth. Property rights saved the world. You won't hear that from most urban hipster environmental activists, but it was the second time I had heard it, first from the eco-resort villages rewilding the East side of Dominica. There 1000 whiteys pay $1000 each to see giant leatherbacks drift in to lay their eggs, but a local with a hatchet got there first for the $100 he'll make selling turtle soup. I digress, but it's really the same thing. The wild western reaches of the island became irresistible to the ultra-wealthy, and those rude pastures grew into some of the most desirable real estate in the world. It's now going back in the other direction, and you can probably tell I don't think this is a good idea. Nature there has tremendous financial value, as single-family estates comprise 95% of tax revenues, but the tourist industry is 95% of the population, more organized, and more vocal by orders of magnitude, and they want golf courses and bars. The truth is that development destroys value. People will pay a lot to be left alone with nature. So that's what happened. Natives who discovered the land quickly destroyed it, then property rights brought nature back for a bit, and now populism is giving it back to the masses to do as they wish, but it seems the ocean will have the final say.