A Line in the Sand

Years of unregulated shoreline armor construction on the San Juan Islands has damaged crucial ecosystems and put human properties in danger. There are plans to remove these structures for the safety of habitats and island residents.

The San Juan Islands seen from the Washington State Ferry along the Strait of Juan de Fuca. // Trinity Shaffer

June 19, 2023

Story by Zoe Hawley

The shorelines of the San Juan Islands are a thin boundary separating human residents and the marine life of the Salish Sea. An even harsher line is drawn in the sand by past and present  shoreline armoring. Seaside communities juggle the risks of habitat degradation and property damage, while finding a way forward that allows the two sides of the beach to intertwine and thrive.

Hard shoreline armoring is the use of concrete walls or large boulders on shorelines as a barrier between the water and beach. They are put in place to protect beaches from erosion – when waves hit the shoreline, they loosen and move sediment.

Managing erosion is important for coastal communities in the age of climate change. As sea level rises, erosion increases too. According to a vulnerability analysis, the sea level in the San Juan Islands could rise by 2.03 feet by 2100 in a moderate scenario and 4.69 feet in a worst case scenario, if global carbon dioxide emissions go unchecked.

Hard armor may protect properties on coastlines with high erosion, but when used unnecessarily, it also blocks natural beach creation and decreases habitat space.

“There's a lot of hard shoreline armoring out there that is unnecessary, or was poorly engineered or is failing,” said Tina Whitman, science director at Friends of the San Juans.

Friends of the San Juans is a citizen-formed environmental group working to protect and restore the shorelines of the islands.

“If you want to protect your property, your shorelines or your assets, you have to start with bioengineering,” said Steve Sundin, senior planner and shoreline administrator for the City of Bellingham. 

Sundin is referring to soft shore stabilization, which can be used in place of hard armor. This is the use of non-structural techniques to armor shorelines. It creates a natural buffer against storm surges and erosion while protecting habitats. Soft shore stabilization includes beach nourishment, or the use of natural sands and sediments to increase the size of the beach.

The Shoreline Management Act of 1972 requires all Washington counties to create and implement Shoreline Master Programs. These programs prioritize environmental protection, public access to coastlines, and transportation and commerce.

Property owners in Washington with Shoreline Master Programs must first consider soft shore stabilization methods if they want to protect their shorelines. If it is decided that soft shore methods won’t work to protect from storm surges, high tides and flooding, they can shift over to hard armor options.

A sailboat cruises through the San Juan Islands passing by the houses along the shoreline. // Trinity Shaffer

Although the regulation seems good on paper, the issue lies with compliance, according to Whitman.

Seventy-four percent of armor installed on the San Juans between 2009-2019 was done without permits, according to an analysis done by Friends of the San Juans. As of the 2019 study, 22% of feeder bluffs and 27% of forage fish spawning areas had hard armoring. 

Feeder bluffs are cliff-like formations on coastlines made of loose sediment. As waves hit the bluffs, sediment is delivered to beaches. Hard shoreline armoring cuts off this supply of sediment. Without feeder bluffs, beach habitats for forage fish—the small fish that occupy nearshore habitat—are at risk.

“Supporting the shorelines of the San Juans is really supporting the regional ecosystem,” Whitman said.

With over 400 miles of coastline, the islands support the intricate food webs of the Pacific Northwest. Juvenile Chinook salmon feed on insects and crustaceans, while older salmon primarily eat forage fish. They migrate through the San Juan coastlines on their way out into the open ocean, feeding and continuing to grow. When they finally get out into the ocean, they are the primary food source for the endangered southern resident killer whale.

Corinne Storey has lived on Shaw Island since 2015, but has owned the property since 1985. On her shoreline is a creosote log bulkhead, a wall-like structure, installed in the 1960s.

Creosote is a chemical used for wood preservation that leaks into marine habitats. Humans can be exposed to creosote through direct contact with treated wood or by breathing vapors. Small amounts of exposure can cause irritation of the skin and throat. Prolonged exposure can cause cancer.

Forage fish are especially vulnerable to creosote exposure. Pacific herring eggs that are laid directly on creosote treated wood have a 100% mortality rate, according to a study conducted in the San Francisco Bay.

In 2017, part of Storey’s bulkhead broke away, leaving very little natural beach as a buffer and her property vulnerable to high tides.

“At king tide time [I’d have] probably two feet of water through my garden,” Storey said.

The eventual removal of the structure will unbury 4,400 square feet of beach and 5,000 square feet of backshore  – the area of a beach that water only reaches during storms or very high tides. Friends of the San Juans plans to restore the uncovered beach habitat by planting native vegetation once the removal is complete.

The project cannot begin without permitting. Storey has obtained the necessary permits from San Juan County and Washington State, but has been waiting since 2017 for the federal permit through the Army Corps of Engineers.

“Those two could expire before I get my permit from the federal government, and then we’ll have to start all over again,” Storey said.

Shoreline residents wanting to start a project will first need a permit from their local government. If the application is accepted, the local government, Ecology, Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, the Department of Natural Resources and the Army Corps of Engineers will work together to see if additional permits are necessary.

Many people choose to avoid the process altogether because it can be time consuming and expensive. If they choose to go through with their projects without permits, they may face penalties later, depending on the enforcement resources of their county.

“There was talk for a very brief time about simplifying and reforming the permit process,” said Jim Johannessen, principal coastal geologist and president of Coastal Geologic Services. “But, it sort of went away pretty quickly. There’s so many people whose jobs depend on permit management.”

Properties, buildings or roads that were in place before shoreline management will often require hard armoring for protection against coastal erosion. These properties may have been built too close to the water before setbacks for construction were enforced, according to Johannessen.

The partially collapsed bulkhead on Storey’s property at high tide. Water floods into her yard. // Photos courtesy of Friends of the San Juans

A Seattle seawall project shows that hard armoring can be implemented to ensure the safety of infrastructure and protect habitats, specifically for migrating salmon.

The Elliott Bay Seawall was completed at the heart of downtown Seattle in 2017. The project replaced the existing seawall built in 1934. The original structure was weakened due to years of enduring the harsh tidal environment. It was also not built to withstand earthquakes.

Due to the high level of development in the area, hard armor is necessary to protect the economy and quality of life of residents. The sea wall protects roads, utilities and power for downtown Seattle and the Puget Sound region.

The new seawall was built with salmon habitat enhancement as a priority. It was pushed back to create more habitat space and features an elevated, gently sloping shelf to imitate natural coastal habitat. The wall face has grooves to promote vegetation growth and create salmon hiding places. The sidewalk above the seawall has glass bricks that let light down into the water to help plants grow and ensure that salmon can see as they feed and migrate.

The Seattle seawall merges human interest and environmental resilience – the two can coexist without the division that many seawalls create between land and sea life. 

For the San Juans, rising sea levels and an increase in storm events make it difficult to move away from hard armor. During periods of heavy rainfall and high flooding, people act in a state of emergency and “band-aid” their shorelines with new armoring, according to Whitman.

In other parts of the islands, projects to move roads and other infrastructure farther from the coast are underway to eliminate the need to slap on the hard armor bandage.

Fisherman Bay is the main location for commerce, recreation and tourism on Lopez Island, the third-largest island of the San Juans. The coastal wetlands here historically supported large populations of forage fish and Chinook salmon.

In 2017, Friends of the San Juans, San Juan County Land Bank and landowners removed unnecessary dikes, berms and ditches. Removing these forms of hard armor help restore water flow into the salt marsh and rebuild habitat for forage fish.

One of the berms was a mound made out of dirt, large rocks and pieces of wood that stopped the tides from entering the wetland. It was originally installed to create farmland and pasture for early settlers, according to Jim Falconer, a resident of Lopez Island. The berm was on his property.

The farmland created by the berm was still being regularly mowed when the project started. The team also planted native shrubs and trees to restore the natural vegetation.

“My theory is, if everybody works on a little piece of their own, we can do a lot. But everyone’s gotta take responsibility for some piece,” Falconer said.

Zoe Hawley is a sophomore at Western majoring in environmental studies with an emphasis in geography. 

Trinity Shaffer is an environmental studies student using photography as a way to capture the issues and beauties of our environment.