Posted on December 14, 2022
Railroad passenger service through San Clemente has been halted twice because the seaside track shifted from waves pounding the soil, leaving commuters scrambling.
The lifeguard headquarters near the town’s pier may have to be moved back from the beach — away from the encroaching sea — and into a parking lot.
In south San Clemente, two homes have been red-tagged and the Cyprus Shore community is mourning the loss of its beach, now a rocky wasteland. On the north end of town, beachgoers have to time their visits based on tides to find sand.
The shoreline from San Clemente to Dana Point is a microcosm of what issues can arise when the beach disappears from a “beach town” – and how much is at stake for coastal communities when their sand disappears.
“It’s unreal to see how fast it’s changing. It just underscores the need to act now,” said San Clemente Mayor Chris Duncan, who calls the town’s erosion woes his No. 1 issue. “This isn’t going to fix itself, we need to lean into it and start taking some meaningful action. This has got to be front and center for us — without our beach, we are not San Clemente.”
Immediate action to preserve the sand on shores and replenish supplies needs to be taken, Duncan said, and the damage caused by crashing waves now hitting straight onto the rail line without a sandy beach to act as a buffer is “absolutely a wake-up call.”
A train makes its way north along the coast at North Beach in San Clemente as waves crash against the rocks just below the railroad tracks on Wednesday, October 20, 2021. A sand replenishment project decades in the making hopes to protect the railroad from the sea.
Train trouble
The train tracks through San Clemente are a key piece of infrastructure as part of the Los Angeles-San Diego (LOSSAN) Corridor, the second busiest route of its type in the nation. It annually transports more than 8.3 million passengers and moves more than $1 billion in goods — its proximity to ports and Camp Pendleton labels it a national defense asset.
Worker drive in large metal anchors along 700 feet of slope to prevent it from pushing the track further toward the water in San Clemente, CA, on Tuesday, December 13, 2022.
A 700-foot section, which less than a decade ago was buffered by a stretch of sand, is now being hit by rising waves threatening to swallow the rails. On the other side of the tracks, an eroding bluff is pushing the rail seaward, making passenger travel too dangerous to continue without repairs.
The line between San Clemente and Oceanside has been closed to passenger trains since late September for emergency fixes and might not reopen until February. It is the second emergency closure in a year. Freight trains continue to run, but on a smaller scale.
Signs at Irvine Station direct train passenger to busses that will take them around a closed section of track in Irvine, CA, on Tuesday, December 13, 2022.
The Orange County Transportation Authority, which owns the right-of-way, is spending $6 million, with another $6 million from the California Transportation Commission, to get passenger trains chugging again on the coastal rail.
While the economic effect of the closure has not been computed, ridership on Metrolink’s service on its Orange County and Inland Empire – Orange County lines was down by 3,000 boardings for the month of October, a drop of about 3%. Ridership on Amtrak’s Pacific Surfliner service was down for October by an estimated 60,000 potential passengers.
The closures and loss of ridership beg the question: Why didn’t the OCTA, which has owned the track right-of-way since 1993, do something earlier to prevent the emergency? Amid decades of warnings from engineers and environmentalists about the changing coast, why did the agency not take action until an emergency occurred requiring quick fixes?
The answer from OCTA Chief Executive Officer Darrell Johnson is that the changes occurred faster than anyone expected.
“There’s no secret that a rail line next to an ocean is going to be vulnerable … there’s always vulnerability,” Johnson said. But at what point, he asks, does that vulnerability become a high risk?
In January 2021, an OCTA report on the potential effects of climate change on the agency’s 25-mile corridor warned the line could someday be compromised by the ocean and the elements.
Just a few months earlier, the city of San Clemente had notified OCTA the private bluff on the land side of the tracks was moving, potentially pushing the rails toward the ever-rising sea, Johnson said.
“In the last 24 months there has been significant sliding of the slope and erosion of the beach that no one looking at this issue before had forecast,” he said, adding there was nothing the agency could have done sooner.
“We do not own the sliding slope, we do not own the eroding beach. We’re caught in the middle,” he said. “We’re caught between private property and Mother Nature.”
Worker drive in large metal anchors along 700 feet of slope to prevent it from pushing the track further toward the water in San Clemente, CA, on Tuesday, December 13, 2022.
Added OCTA spokesman Eric Carpenter: “The 700-foot stretch of rail is something that happened a lot quicker than we expected. We didn’t know about this particular stretch and any movement there until it did become an emergency.”
During the first closure of the rail line in September 2021, OCTA obtained emergency state and federal permits to dump boulders on the seaward side of the rails to act as a wall against the threatening waves. It’s an often-used, yet controversial emergency measure. More boulders were dumped this fall after it was discovered the ground beneath the tracks had moved 28 inches toward the sea over the last year.
In all, 18,000 tons of rock or “rip rap” have been dropped on that section of coast, a quick solution that environmentalists say could end up backfiring by keeping the beach from rebuilding itself with sand.
On the land side of the tracks, the agency has obtained state permission to place a retaining wall and anchors to hold back the privately owned slope.
Johnson said OCTA will work with the state Coastal Commission and other agencies to find a long-term solution for the endangered rails, potentially including creating “living shorelines” with vegetation, cobble and sand, or relocating the rails inland — which would cost billions of dollars.
A building is protected by a sand berm at North Beach during high tide in San Clemente, CA, on Wednesday, December 7, 2022.
Evolution of sand shortage
UC Irvine civil engineering professor Brett Sanders, a leading expert on sand erosion, said the beach went through what’s called a “tipping point.”
South San Clemente had about 200 feet of sand through the 1990s and 2000s, based on satellite imagery analyzed by grad students. By 2010, the shore shrank to about 160 feet. By 2020, it was less than half of what it was 30 years ago, at 80 feet. Now, at the point where the railroad damage occurred, there’s no beach at all during higher tides, and only wet sand exposed when tides drop.
Sanders’ theory is the El Nino in 2015 created strong swells and warmer water that raised sea levels about 5 to 10 inches higher than average. That wiped away enough sand that occasional big swells sent waves onto the rocks in front of the train, and that happened enough times that the waves then began refracting off rocks, creating a backwash that further sucked sand out to sea.
“When an event comes along that pulls all the sand away from the rip rap and it’s repeatedly exposed to wave action, the beach can never recover,” Sanders said. “That backwash, it digs the sand and pulls it offshore.”
But on the other hand, without the rip rap that’s been added, the water might reach the bluff’s base and put homes above in greater danger, he said.
“The railroad is, in some ways, a guardian to the properties,” Sanders said.
Noaki Schwartz, a spokesperson for the Coastal Commission, said the problems seen in part of south Orange County and elsewhere are the product of development before the panel was formed in 1977.
“The fundamental problem is we, as a global community, did not heed scientists’ early warnings about climate change, which resulted in local governments approving a lot of shoreline development (prior to the Coastal Act),” Schwartz said in an email. “We have built too much, too close to the shoreline, and climate change is causing a rate of sea level rise that is rapidly accelerating beach and bluff erosion.”
And, she said, the commission does not have the authority under the Coastal Act to unilaterally order local governments to take preventative measures against sea-level rise and erosion. The panel can give guidance and set parameters, while reviewing proposed coastal development and other long-term planning documents.
Sanders said that what is needed along the railroad and other areas where rip rap has been heavily used as protection is a way to dissipate the wave energy before it hits the rocks, increase sand supply and put in a nature-based dune system. Other ideas include a kelp bed just offshore that could help dissipate wave energy.
Suzie Whitelaw, of Save Our Beaches San Clemente, walks through a pedestrian tunnel that has filled with sand below Cyprus Shore at the state beach in San Clemente, CA, on Monday, December 5, 2022. Whitelaw said that the bar on the left is a handrail and was usable a few months ago.
Residents who live in Cyprus Shores, a private community just above the closed railroad, created the group Save Our Beaches SC with hopes that OCTA will bring in sand or create an offshore reef for a solution that also benefits the community by leaving them with some beach space. They understand the need to protect the rail line, they said, but want more of a solution than just dumped rocks or creation of a sea wall.
Suzie Whitelaw, a resident of Cyprus Shores who is also a geologist, started taking note of the shrinking beaches about four years ago. Whitelaw said she’s saddened not only for her own beach, but looks north to Calafia State Beach. That’s where residents migrated as the sand started disappearing, and now that beach is starting to dwindle in size.
“My warning is, that’s coming for you,” she said, pointing at the big pile of rocks she called a “hellscape” that replaced what was the Cyprus Shore beach. “It’s not just an isolated thing. It’s going to come up here.”
Cyprus Shores resident Gary Walsh, on a recent day, looked out where his family did a photo shoot at the end of August. Back then, 50 feet of sand stretched out at their beloved beach.
“That no longer exists,” he said. “Gone … it’s completely gone and is not coming back.”
He understands the need for the OCTA to protect the tracks, but hopes politicians can come together to come up with ideas not just for here, but for other areas that will face the same fate.
“This is really a microcosm of what we’ll see up and down the coast,” Walsh said. “This is a great example of, ‘This is happening now.’ “
Stefanie Sekich-Quinn, a Surfrider Foundation senior manager, also is concerned the OCTA will continue dumping boulders.
“The problem with the train tracks is they’re doing emergency permit after emergency permit after emergency permit, which the Coastal Commission gives out like candy,” Sekich-Quinn said.
County Supervisor Katrina Foley, also an OCTA board member, recently toured the railroad stretch, visiting two red-tagged homes damaged by the slope movement and the Cyprus Shores beach where there were once volleyball courts, picnic beaches and an entire sandscape that have vanished.
More has to be done, she said, calling for a collaborative effort between agencies, residents and the scientific community.
“It was not a surprise, the residents were sounding the alarm. It does feel like nobody would listen,” she said.
San Diego officials acted quickly when they realized their cliffside railways were in danger, lobbying for state and federal funds to study moving the tracks inland. But in Orange County, even as danger of the eroding beaches was apparent, no one acted, Foley said.
“In Orange County, we did nothing,” she said. “We said ‘It’s too expensive, we’re not going to do it.’ And here we are.
“Now we’re in crisis mode and it’s going to cost more,” she said. “We’re in crisis mode and we don’t even know if what we’re doing is going to work.”
Diners eat at The FIsherman’s Restaurant and Bar on the 90-year-old San Clemente Pier in San Clemente in 2018.
Beach economics
Fisherman’s Restaurant and Bar in San Clemente offers the quintessential Southern California experience: Cocktails and seafood overlooking the ocean from its two restaurants at the base of the wooden pier and a nearby summertime concession stand where beachgoers grab quick burgers, pizza or soft serve ice cream for their day at the shore.
But General Manager Mark Esparza, who has worked at the restaurant for 35 years, has watched the sand below suffer.
“There used to be a big beach area,” he said.
He worries the less sand the town has, the fewer visitors who will want to come to the beach. And for the restaurant, that equates to less business.
“There’s less reason to come to the beach, less sand space to lay out and spend the day on the coast,” he said. “There’s less people — that effects our business quite a bit.”
And, a few employees had to quit when the railroad stopped service south to Oceanside, a hit to staffing,” he said. “They didn’t have transportation.”
Surfrider Foundation CEO Chad Nelsen said the nonprofit has been watching coastal erosion impacts for decades.
“If the beaches disappear, you would see significant loss of visitation and significant loss of spending in town,” Nelsen said. “(That’s) no one buying ice cream and sandwiches and staying in town.”
Nelsen did a study in 2012 that looked at a mile-long portion of beach at the Orange County-San Diego border called Trestles. Nelsen, in what he dubbed “Surfonomics,” estimated about 300,000 people visit Trestles each year, spending up to $13 million. That’s for just one beach.
Another study commissioned by the Institute for Water Resources in 2018 predicted a 50% increase in beach width would generate $3.1 million in consumer surplus per year in San Clemente.
At one beach in San Diego, the study estimated that maintaining current beach width could result in more than $300 million in increased revenue for local vendors.
Part of economist Philip King’s job is looking at the financial impacts of shrinking beaches.
“For a city like San Clemente, you can be talking about tens of millions — and that’s a lot for a small town, really,” King said.
In 2002, King conducted an economic study that found that for every beachgoer in San Clemente, the federal government netted $10.32 in tax dollars, the state got $4 and the city earned 5 cents after paying for public safety and other expenses. King said his findings show that beach towns aren’t the only ones profiting from the surfside tourism.
King recently visited San Clemente, 20 years after his original study to work on an updated version with new methods used for calculating just how much is at stake if the town loses its beach.
