Six years ago, David Spector bought an 80-year-old house perched on a 120ft bluff, with a panoramic view of Lake Michigan.
But that priceless view may end up costing Spector more than he could have imagined. His house, located about 20 miles outside of Milwaukee, sits in a particularly bad spot for erosion, with wind and waves whittling away at the base of the bluff. Ten years ago, the house stood 50ft away from the bluff’s edge. Today it’s less than 10ft away.
Spector knows it’s only a matter of time until the bluff gives way and his home will be gone.
“It’s such a beautiful view, it makes up for some of the heartache,” he said.
Spector and many of his neighbors say the erosion worsened after 2007, when Concordia University Wisconsin, a nearby private college, built a 2,700ft rock wall to protect its beach and bluff.
Experts say the $12m project is one of the largest seawall structures on Lake Michigan, which is a part of the Great Lakes that hold 20% of the world’s surface fresh water.
But while the university found protection behind its wall, almost immediately following the construction, neighbors say they saw their own beaches begin to wash away. The bluff, once a gentler slope, became a sheer vertical face as yards of their properties tumbled into the lake. Neighbors complained to the university, and two couples sued. Spector’s home was one of the properties at the center of that lawsuit, though the case involved the prior owners, not Spector.
A jury later agreed the Concordia’s construction caused “significant harm” to properties, but awarded no damages, leaving bitterness over the seawall to linger for some in the neighborhood. Concordia officials did not respond to a request for comment.
A cumulative effect
Battles over seawalls span the globe. In Hawaii, where the islands of Oahu, Maui and Kauai have lost an estimated 25% of their sandy beaches, seawall construction is blamed for fueling the losses. In Australia, the construction of a towering, 23ft wall to protect properties along the beach has been deemed a “total disaster”, sparking pushback from community members who argue it does more harm than good.
Seawalls, often called revetments, are typically sloped, stacked rocks meant to buffer the beach against the impact of waves. But while they help shore up adjacent beaches, they also block the natural movement that would otherwise replenish them.
Experts say at best, seawall construction is a short-term maneuver that benefits those who are fastest to build. At worst, they start a domino effect with consequences down the shoreline.
Damage from one revetment can cause neighbors to armor their shoreline, which can damage the next beach, and so on, said Guy Meadows, a professor at Michigan Tech University and director of its Marine Engineering Laboratory.
“That’s what we see happening here near Concordia,” Meadows said. “There’s a cumulative effect.”
Chin Wu, a professor in University of Wisconsin-Madison’s department of civil and environmental engineering, has studied the issue for years. In 2014, Wu wrote an article published in the Journal of Great Lakes Research that found Concordia’s revetment worsened bluff erosion on the south side of the project, the same direction the current travels.
New evidence has shown the damage from the revetment may be even more widespread: Wu told the Guardian erosion has also been detected north of the project.
It’s a natural response for residents to armor their property, Meadows said. But they are fighting a losing battle against nature. As waves hit revetments, the water pulls sand farther from the shoreline. Over time, the force scours away at the base of the seawall, causing it to fall forward or fail.
Wu and some other experts advocate for the use of nature-based solutions – using materials such as sand, vegetation or logs to create natural barriers.
But many property owners still opt for the quick-fix of seawall construction, a tactic Meadows and others describe as a Band-Aid solution.
“Once we start building structures on the shoreline, armoring the shoreline, [creating] harbor structures, we change the shoreline dynamic,” Meadows said. “There’s many, many places where there is no beach any more. So going to the extreme, if these trends continue, there will be no beach or access for the general public.”
On the brink
For the moment, Spector’s house appears to be safe from toppling over the bluff’s edge. The same can’t be said for all his neighbors.
In 2020, a three-bedroom house overlooking the lake was left on the brink of collapse after heavy rains pummeled the area. At one point, the asking price for the house was about $1m. The house has since been demolished. Now, a bare patch of concrete sits where the house once stood.
Spector said he believes there is a misperception that everyone in the area is extremely wealthy. There are many modest homes and retired residents – people who don’t necessarily have the money to make major repairs.
He said he bought his house for around the cost of the land, knowing work needed to be done.
The previous owners installed a $60,000 revetment to protect that bluff. To extend the house’s lifespan, Spector reinforced its basement and built a $25,000 retaining wall to keep the home in place. He and neighbors hired a contractor to cut a slope into his remaining yard, which can help stabilize the bluff. And they planted deep-rooted vegetation, which can help hold soil.
“For me, it made sense to buy the house and put some work into it knowing I might only have it for 10 to 15 years,” he said. “But I think some people who are moving into these million-dollar homes without any kind of protection might be living in denial.”
Spector is optimistic the work he has done to protect his property will keep the house upright for years to come.
“I’d like to say it’s a success story, but it may be only a temporary success story,” he said.
This story is co-published with Wisconsin Watch.
