Posted on May 18, 2021
In lower Plaquemines Parish, some fear they are river diversion’s ‘collateral damage’
When Franck Labiche moved to Happy Jack in 1969, the houses, nestled on a strip of land between two canals, were built on the ground.
“Back then, it never flooded,” the 75-year-old business owner said, sitting around a table with other property owners ahead of a weekend crawfish boil.
Five decades later, most of the hamlet’s 80 houses reach toward the sky, elevated more than 10 feet. That’s because Louisiana’s coastal loss and rising sea levels have induced more routine flooding even on days without a storm. Water blown north by a strong southerly wind laps from canals over docks and roads, even gurgling up from the ground as the water table rises.
Now a $2 billion project pushed by the state government and nonprofits aims to rebuild part of the coast, by bolstering a natural barrier between the Gulf of Mexico and the 1.2 million people living in greater New Orleans. But it’s unlikely to protect Happy Jack and a string of five other small West Bank communities outside the federal hurricane protection levees of Plaquemines Parish; in fact, they would experience the opposite: more flooding.
“We’re the collateral damage,” said Darlene McGarry, 62, who spends half the year with her husband, Scott, in their four-bedroom summer home in Happy Jack. “We’re the ones [who] are going to suffer.”
What worries the people of Happy Jack, Myrtle Grove, Grand Bayou, Lake Hermitage, Suzie Bayou and Woodpark is the Mid-Barataria Sediment Diversion project. Louisiana wants to cut a hole in the Mississippi River levee 18 miles upriver from Happy Jack, install a weir and channel clay- and silt-laden water into Barataria Bay.
It’s designed to build 21 square miles of storm surge-reducing land buffer over the next 50 years, as part of a larger effort to sustain some of the state’s rapidly degrading southern third.
As grand and ambitious as that plan is, it carries some downsides. For example, in especially high river years like that of 2011, Myrtle Grove Estates and Marina, 2½ miles downriver from the diversion’s outlet, would flood almost three times as often, according to modeling by The Water Institute of the Gulf.
Further downstream in Grand Bayou, a Native American settlement accessible only by boat, flooding would occur twice as often. The effect on communities such as Lake Hermitage, Suzie Bayou and Woodpark would fall somewhere in between.
Of the 532 parcels outside levee protection, a few contain people’s only houses. Others keep second homes and docks as an escape, a slice of paradise, despite days that they look out their window to see the road covered with water.
Beyond an increase in routine flooding, they expect their property values to decline as a result of the diversion project, reducing tax revenue for the parish government. Too, some canals that they use to get their boats to the bay or their fish to the docks will silt up without more maintenance dredging, according to the Army Corps of Engineers’ draft Environmental Impact Statement on the Mid-Barataria undertaking.
In an April community meeting with Louisiana Coastal Protection and Restoration Authority officials, Myrtle Grove residents said neighbors have already had difficulty selling their properties due to talk surrounding the project. It’s also created uncertainty for people who own lots and planned to build houses.
Full-time residents Cindy Kuehne, and her husband, Greg, have invested more than $750,000 in their two lots in Myrtle Grove, moving there in 2019. Others have spent more than $1 million in a community that is collectively worth more than $52 million, based on estimates from the Corps’ report. Kuehne said she and her husband didn’t buy their property blindly; they were well-aware of the risks associated with hurricanes and rising tides.
“We can accept that natural flooding. We agreed to take the hit with the natural storms,” said Kuehne. “The diversion is a manmade project.”
To compensate for the diversion’s threat, coastal authority officials propose spending $305 million on mitigation ranging from raising roads and septic systems to buyouts. Brad Barth, project manager for Mid-Barataria, said meetings have brought the communities’ problems to the forefront.
“It’s bringing to light that we already are experiencing troubles with our communities outside hurricane protection with these flooding events,” he said. “This project has the opportunity to potentially help out with an existing situation.”
Flooding will only worsen as the climate warms worldwide, causing the sea on the Louisiana coast to rise almost 2¼ feet by 2070; the diversion will just accelerate it.
McGarry and Kuehne recognize the realities of sea level rise. But they would rather it increase gradually increase than come all at once. The McGarrys have already raised their concrete slab and docks since building on their property in the early 2000s.
“We keep up with it,” McGarry said. “This diversion is going to be a double whammy.”
Should the Corps approve the Mid-Barataria project next year, construction would take another five to six years if it isn’t halted by lawsuits, leaving time for the state to move forward on mitigation. Since March, the coastal authority has held public meetings targeting each area to solicit feedback on options such as raised roads, bulkheads, drainage improvements and buyouts.
Passions often ran hot. The distrust between residents and the state was palpable at times. Many residents wanted more specifics, which state officials were reluctant to commit without residents’ input – a mistake they’ve made in the past.
The project has become a point of contention for coastal communities. Both the Plaquemines and St. Bernard Parish councils oppose the diversion, as does Lt. Gov. Billy Nungesser, a former Plaquemines president.
It won’t be easy for both sides to come together, said Steve Cochran, campaign director for the nonprofit Restore the Mississippi River Delta Coalition. His coalition advocates for coastal restoration in Louisiana, including river diversions. He thinks it will take time to overcome the long history of disagreement between the state and some factions of Plaquemines, including its fishers.
“There are people who make a living being facilitators to help opposing groups come to an agreement. That’s because it’s hard to do,” Cochran said. “It’s essential that those communities be directly involved in coming up with these ideas, and it’s essential that the state remain sincere in what they’re offering.”
The coastal authority’s executive director, Bren Haase, said his agency plans to return to lower Plaquemines’ West Bank communities in the summer with more detailed proposals. The agency’s mitigation plan will likely be finalized in the fall, ahead of the Corps’ final environmental impact statement next spring.
