Rising: Dispatches from the New American Shore

This chapter focuses on the first-person account of Laura Sewall, a resident of Small Point, Maine. Her home overlooks a tidal marsh. She opens by recounting her kayaking trip through the marshes during a hurricane. The marsh “was completely, utterly covered” (42). Bugs were clinging to the tips of plants not submerged by the water and kept trying to jump into her kayak. It was at this moment that she realized the living beings in the marshes are not prepared for higher sea levels.

Laura has witnessed changes to the marsh in her time living near it. Since 2004, erosion has taken 11 feet of land. Yet, she is hesitant to leave the place she calls home. She recognizes that because of the changing landscape, her house might not be worth as much as she had hoped when she is ready to sell it. For her, selling is not a simple decision. She loves the marsh and feels immense gratitude to “see how dynamic life is on the planet” (44). Laura wants to spend more time appreciating the marsh before she decides whether to move, although she guesses she will live beside the marsh for the rest of her life. In her own words, “I may just become an old lady who drowns right here” (45).

In this dispatch, Rush focuses on Sprague River Marsh in Phippsburg, Maine, a marsh that is literally rotting. She opens the chapter by describing the scent and feel of the marsh:

The moment I step onto the upper portion of the Sprague I know that it is in trouble. There I am met by the musky, almost strawberry scent of decomposition. Most marshes smell a little bit, but here the scent is overwhelming. A healthy marsh is firm underfoot. Here the earth quakes like Jell-O. With every step bubbles burble from the accrued depths, releasing the captive sulfur that lies beneath (48).

A network of rhizomes, or a continuously growing underground plant stem that sends out roots, and black, iron-rich sediment characterize healthy marshes. Rhizomes help plants in marshes escape rising waters by sprouting new roots underground and sending them uphill. The sediment in marshes creates an anoxic environment because it is so dense that it does not contain oxygen. It is this environment that results in marshes being able to absorb carbon dioxide from the atmosphere (also known as a carbon sink). Scientists only recently discovered that coastal wetlands, including marshes, store 25% of the carbon found in soil, despite covering just 5% of the planet’s land mass. This means that an acre of healthy wetlands cleans more air than an acre of rainforest.

However, saltwater sitting on top of marshes is disrupting this environment. The marsh grass rhizomes either retreat or rot. In the case of Sprague River Marsh, the plugging of ditches resulted in saltwater getting stuck in the marsh. The rhizomes were not able to retreat from the saltwater, so they began to rot. Rush learns from Beverly Johnson, a professor of geology at Bates College, and two of her students that carbon dioxide and methane are released back into the air as Sprague River Marsh (and other marshes) destabilizes. Rotting marshes, including Sprague, now contribute to atmospheric warming.

Removing the ditch plug might help Sprague River Marsh in the short term by coaxing it back to its original hydrology. However, Rush doubts that we can truly save Sprague and other wetlands. Sea levels are rising much faster than previously predicted. It is unknown whether marshes can retreat quickly enough to escape being inundated by saltwater.

Moving over a thousand miles from Sprague River Marsh, Rush turns to how sea level rise is impacting the residents of South Florida. She first discusses how much sea levels might rise. In the past, when sea levels have risen due to the melting of ice and the process of deglaciation, they have done so in rapid surges, known as “meltwater pulses.” These events have resulted in sea levels rising 50 feet in just a few centuries. The most extreme predictions suggest Florida might be completely underwater at some point in the near future.

South Florida, like many other coastal areas, has had unprecedented population growth over the last 130 years. To create homes, plazas, and skyscrapers, developers backfilled over 22 million acres of marsh, which totals nearly 60% of the state’s landmass. What remains of Florida’s wetlands, much of which border Miami, is now being threatened by sea level rise. As is happening elsewhere, “the interface between salt water and freshwater is pushing deeper and deeper into this fragile ecosystem, transforming the marsh from within” (80). Marsh grasses are dying, causing an increase in microbial activity that results in the ground collapsing around the plant. This phenomenon is known as peat collapse and is happening all over the East Coast.

In the case of South Florida, the area is also very close to sea level. The collapsing of the marshes coupled with sea level rise has had profound impacts on all living beings who call this place home. For example, residents of the Shorecrest neighborhood, located a few miles from downtown Miami, deal with flooding at every high tide, a phenomenon known as “sunny day flooding” (86). One resident even tells Rush that he has seen fish swim out of the street gates. The constant flooding has destroyed gardens and property values. Residents believe it is unlikely that the Miami city government will help them implement adaptation strategies, such as installing pumps and raising the street. The reasons given for this are twofold. The first is that Shorecrest is not located downtown on the beach, so the government does not want to invest in the community. The second is that the residents are primarily Latinx. Communities of color have always received disproportionately lower government funding for community projects. This reality has been amplified in the face of a changing climate where resources are going to wealthier communities, making these already vulnerable communities even more vulnerable. 

Dan Kipnis, a Miami Beach resident and chairman of the Miami Beach Marine and Waterfront Protection Authority, tells his story in this chapter. His wife has been in their house for nearly 40 years. A decade ago they decided to remodel the house and turn it into their dream home. Dan and his wife never thought they would leave their home. They always assumed they would grow old, “love each other until the end in our house” (94), and pass down the house to their kids. Rising sea levels are now forcing them to leave their home. Dan understands that the sea will inundate Miami at some point in the near future.

While angry, especially with the government, Dan considers himself and his wife lucky because they can leave. They are able to make a “handsome profit” from the sale of their home since so few people recognize the dangers of living on the coast. With this money, they will be able to go anywhere. Dan recognizes his own privilege and notes that the majority of people in Miami-Dade County do not make a living wage. While they are working hard to try and get a better life, “their dream is gonna drown” (95).