SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 2 , 2019. THE WASHINGTON POST EZ RE A
Nowhere to hide
In September, Hurricane
Dorian delivered the latest lesson
on fragility.
The storm, which ravaged the
Bahamas on its way up the Atlan-
tic coast, was weakening but still
packed winds topping 80 mph as
it plowed through the Gulf of St.
Lawrence.
That was enough to once again
pummel the Magdalen Islands.
Business owners in La Grave
watched as water flooded their
shops. Several homes were de-
stroyed, including along a popu-
lar strip lined with about 30 sea-
side cottages that officials now
insist will be abandoned for good
over the next year — the latest
retreat, but certainly not the last.
The storm tossed boats ashore
like bath toys. Massive waves
pounded the sandstone cliffs,
tearing away large sections in
places. Storm surges blocked
roads. Thousands of homes lost
power.
“People are very emotional
right now,” Lapierre said during a
news conference the day after the
storm. “It was a long night. Some
probably haven’t slept and today
are seeing their investments,
their dreams and goals swept
away.”
One of those people was Cyn-
thia Baril, who co-owns two rental
cottages on the quaint strip that
will now be surrendered to the
sea. She has spent long hours
trying to find a new place to move
the homes, agonizing over the
small fortune it will take to do so
and mourning the loss of a place
she called “a little paradise.”
“Has Dorian caused significant
damage?” she asked. “Yes, and not
just to the cottages, but to people,
too.”
Bourgeois said residents have
reacted with their typical resil-
ience, but also with a measure of
acceptance about what increas-
ingly seems like a new reality. Two
crippling storms had hit the is-
lands in 10 months, the second
during a time of year that typically
is calm. Now, the winter storm
season lies ahead, and with it,
another season of uncertainty
and angst.
Crews continue fortifying parts
of Route 199, trying to hold the
swelling waters at bay. The fisher-
men have stored their wooden
traps until spring, when they can
return to the lobster-filled gulf.
Adele Chiasson sits in her house
atop the bluff, hoping the cliffs
keep their distance. She tried to
sell several years ago, but there
were no takers.
“A lot of people really liked the
house,” she said, “but when they
went out back, they were afraid.”
Like other Madelinots, she is
left to wait and worry, to hope and
to carry on.
“Nous sommes entourés par
l’océan. Il n’y a nulle part où se
cacher,” Bourgeois said.
We are surrounded by the
ocean. There is nowhere to hide.
[email protected]Chris Mooney and Olivier Laurent
contributed to this report.the gulf continues to warm, the
lobsters that have flocked north
from places such as Maine might
one day keep moving, taking the
good times with them.
“We’re all worried about that,”
said Sidney Clark, 63, as he
checked each of his nearly 300
traps one morning.
Mario Cyr, the underwater cin-
ematographer, said the bizarre
lobster scene he witnessed on the
sea floor last summer brought to
mind Inuit hunters he’d met in
the Arctic, where climate change
has shifted hunting seasons in
confounding ways and altered the
rhythms of everyday life.
“Right now, we are lucky,” said
Cyr, 59. “We have the ideal tem-
perature for lobsters. But nobody
knows how long it will last.”pickup trucks. A local boatbuild-
ing shop is booked with orders
more than a year out.
For now, the hundreds of lob-
ster fishermen and women on the
Magdalen Islands, are delighted
to be catching double or more
what boats here caught barely a
decade ago. Fishermen who once
expected to haul in 15,000 pounds
of lobster during the nine-week
season that begins each spring
now say 30,000 to 40,000 pounds
isn’t uncommon.
“Last year was the best year in
40 to 50 years. And this year has
been even better,” Claude Cyr, 67,
said one morning as he unloaded
the day’s haul from his boat, Cap
Bleu.
But the captains who have long
fished these waters know that ifening roads and structures.
Troops have been strained not
only by overseas deployments but
also by constant missions to help
after floods, wildfires and other
disasters.
Amid so many priorities, Lapi-
erre and other officials keep lob-
bying for aid, emphasizing the
islands’ importance as a vacation
destination, its history and its
future.
“I hope my daughter will be
able to live her life here,” Lapierre
said, “and also my daughter’s
daughter.”‘Right now, we are lucky’
Across the islands, the wharfs
brim with tales about fishermen
ordering bigger boats, upgrading
their engines and buying newon the Magdalen Islands alone —
much of it to safeguard Route 199,
raise buildings and reinforce the
shoreline near the hospital and
city hall.
The municipality’s total annual
budget is roughly $26 million.
“We need more money, more
human resources, more help,” the
mayor said. “With just the munic-
ipality alone, it’s impossible to
protect the islands completely.”
But the Canadian government,
where lawmakers in June de-
clared a national “climate emer-
gency,” is navigating an array of
calamities.
Thousands in eastern Canada
were forced to evacuate this year
after monumental flooding. In
the country’s Northwest Territo-
ries, melting permafrost is threat-scription. Now, it’s my priority,” he
said. “In 30 years, it has complete-
ly changed.”
As climate change bears down
on the islands, he views them as a
laboratory, “a place where we can
study ways to adapt.”
In recent years, local officials
have singled out a half-dozen loca-
tions that must somehow be pro-
tected — including the municipal
headquarters and the hospital.
Another priority is the
low-lying, historic fishing village of
La Grave, a bustling tourist desti-
nation lined with shops and res-
taurants. Its weatherworn build-
ings sit on a spit of rocky beach only
feet from the rising gulf.
Marie-Claude Vigneault, co-
owner of Café de la Grave, said last
fall’s storm ripped away the rear
terrace from her 150-year-old
building. “It does worry me,” she
said of future storms, noting that
when the restaurant closes each
winter, workers remove the tables
and anything else that could get
damaged by flooding.
Then there are the roads, none
more critical than Route 199, the
islands’ main artery. Maintained
by the provincial government, it
connects the islands with bridges
and causeways, often running
along slivers of land hemmed in
on both sides by water.
Officials have added a dozen
miles of massive rocks around
parts of the island to shore up
dunes and protect power poles
and stretches of road. But much of
the rock must be imported from
New Brunswick or Nova Scotia. It
is expensive and can be an eye-
sore. And officials have realized
that protecting one spot can di-
vert water and create another
problem nearby.
“A lot of what we are doing is
trial and error,” Bourgeois said.
“And there are unintended conse-
quences.”
In locations in need of immedi-
ate attention, officials often rely
on huge amounts of sand to re-
plenish dunes and beaches. It’s a
quicker, cheaper solution, and
sand is abundant on the islands.
But it’s a temporary fix — the sea is
always hungry.
Jonathan Lapierre, now in his
second term as Iles-de-la-Made-
leine’s mayor, refers to the ap-
proach as “nourrir le monstre.”
Feeding the monster.
Officials say the local govern-
ment simply can’t afford to spend
huge sums to protect places that
aren’t economically essential.
“Not everything can be fixed;
not everything can be saved,”
Bourgeois said, noting that park-
ing lots, hiking trails and scenic
overlooks already have been relo-
cated to sturdier ground. “In some
cases, you have to accept retreat.”
Already, nearly a dozen homes
on the islands have been relocat-
ed, and most everyone expects
that number to grow.
The government of Quebec has
set aside tens of millions of dollars
to help with coastal erosion
across the sprawling province.
But Lapierre estimated it will take
upward of $100 million in coming
years to shore up infrastructure
PHOTOS BY BONNIE JO MOUNT/THE WASHINGTON POST
TOP: Lobster traps are strewn about on the Magdalen Islands. CLOCKWISE FROM ABOVE: Customers socialize at Café de la Grave in
the fishing village of La Grave. Rocks fortify a shoreline where it has started to crumble into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Sidney Clark says he
and other lobster fishermen are worried that the crustaceans, plentiful now, may move on if the gulf continues to warm.