Graves on Isle of the Dead in Tasmania. The island on which the graveyard lies, part of the Port Arthur Historic Sites, is being chewed away by the sea. Credit Matthew Abbott for The New York Times |
ISLE
OF THE DEAD, Tasmania — Maybe the hardened convicts who carved the
19th-century gravestones dotting this tiny island were barely literate,
or perhaps one of them just had a wicked sense of humor. The
schoolmaster Benjamin Horne went to his repose in 1843 with this
sentence chiseled above his head: “Sincerely regretted by all who knew
him.”
If he ever managed to sleep peacefully beneath that pungent epitaph, Mr. Horne can rest no longer.
The very island
on which he lies is being chewed away by the sea. The roots of trees
that have stood for decades now dangle perilously over a fast-eroding
shore. A few miles away, a seaside coal mine once worked by the convicts is under similar assault by the waves.
The
ocean is rising in large part, of course, because people the world over
have burned so much coal, pumping planet-warming carbon dioxide into
the air. Perhaps a new stone marker ought to be planted above the
eroding mine: Cause, Meet Effect.
Chris Sharples,
a coastal consultant, has lately been spotting such problems all over
southern Tasmania, including once-sturdy electric poles in danger of
falling over as the ocean strips the land away. Under a brilliant sky,
he walked the shoreline near the historic mine one recent day and
pointed to a steep scarp cut by the waves, a bellwether of recent
damage.
New York Times |
“It’s a smoking gun for sea-level rise causing an acceleration of erosion,” he said. “And it’s coal! Mined for burning!”
Both the imperiled island cemetery and the coal mine are part of the Port Arthur Historic Sites,
in the far southeastern corner of Tasmania, the Australian island
state. Convict ancestry was once a badge of shame in Australia, but now
it is bragged about, and Port Arthur, a 19th-century prison that
received some of the most incorrigible criminals in the British Empire,
has become one of the country’s premier tourist attractions.
It is also under costly siege by a rising sea, and Port Arthur is but one example of a looming global problem.
In country after country, managers of national parks and other historic sites are realizing that climate change,
with its coastal flooding and erosion, rising temperatures and more
intense rainstorms, represents a profound risk to the heritage they are
trying to preserve.
Venice, home of architectural and artistic masterpieces, is under such grave threat that $6 billion worth of sea gates are being installed to protect against increased tidal flooding. Rising temperatures seem to be on the verge of wiping out
large sections of the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Coastal erosion
threatens scores of treasured sites in Scotland, including the
spectacular Neolithic ruins of the Orkney Islands. The famed statues of Easter Island are in danger.
In the United States, most of the glaciers that in the 19th century dotted what is now Glacier National Park have already melted, and the rest are expected to be gone within this century. Archaeological sites on the Alaska coast are being lost. The very symbol of America, the Statue of Liberty, cannot be considered safe: Flooding from Hurricane Sandy, made worse by a century of sea-level rise, destroyed much of the infrastructure on Liberty Island in 2012 and closed the monument to visitors for months.
Like so many other problems associated with climate change, this was a crisis foretold.
In a report
in 2007, the staff of the World Heritage Convention, an arm of the
United Nations that oversees listings of heritage sites, warned of the
peril from human-caused climate change. It specifically pointed out the
risk to coral reefs, including the Great Barrier Reef.
When the group wanted to update
its report in 2016, the conservative government of Australia, under
fierce attack at home for the perceived weakness of its climate
policies, demanded that any mention of the Great Barrier Reef be
stripped out of the new version. The United Nations complied, though the
suppressed material quickly leaked.
Part of the Coal Mines Historic Site in Port Arthur. Erosion has begun to damage the site. Credit Matthew Abbott for The New York Times |
In
the very year that controversy played out, the reef suffered profound
damage from high water temperatures, fulfilling the prophecy of a decade
earlier. And the same sort of damage is occurring again this year, part of an unprecedented back-to-back die-off that may leave large segments of the reef in ruins.
Rising
ocean temperatures and rising sea levels are two sides of a coin: Most
of the excess heat trapped by human emissions of greenhouse gases is
absorbed by the ocean, and the water expands as it warms, accounting for
much of the rise in the sea over the past century. It has gone up about eight inches
since 1880, which sounds small, but has been enough in some places to
cause extensive erosion, forcing governments to spend billions to cope.
The problem is worse in places where the land is also sinking, as in
Venice and along much of the East Coast of the United States.
Over
the long term, the rise of the sea appears to be accelerating because
of runaway growth in greenhouse emissions, and scientists fear much
bigger effects this century, perhaps so large they could ultimately
force the abandonment of entire coastlines.
Though
awareness of the risk to historic sites and natural wonders is growing,
the effort to tackle the problem is in its infancy. In most places,
discussion and report-writing have yet to give way to concrete action.
“We’re a long way from managing this issue well,” said Adam Markham,
who is deputy director for climate and energy with the Union of
Concerned Scientists, an American group, and who was the lead author of
the most recent report on world heritage sites.
Much
could be done to shore up old buildings, but that is invariably
expensive — and most park services and heritage agencies are badly
underfunded. Beyond money, the agencies face deep philosophical issues.
How far will they ultimately be willing to go to salvage buildings or
parks at risk? Should they, for instance, build sea walls that would
forever alter the character of old forts or other coastal sites?
In
Tasmania, the archaeology manager of the Port Arthur Historic Site
Management Authority, David Roe, wrestles with such questions. The
historic site has spent $5 million reinforcing old prison buildings,
which are under attack by the rising salt water in the soil and also
vulnerable to wind damage. But Dr. Roe is reluctant to consider more
aggressive solutions, like a sea wall that would isolate the site from
the ocean that connected it to a once-mighty empire.
As he sees the matter, to build such a thing would be to undermine the cultural value that made the place worth preserving.
“We
can’t retreat” from the rising sea, Dr. Roe said. “We can’t elevate. We
can’t rebuild. Perhaps all we can do is manage loss.”
David Luchsinger
was in charge of the Statue of Liberty for the National Park Service
when Hurricane Sandy ravaged Liberty Island in 2012, and he led the team
that brought the park back to life
on July 4 the following year. Mr. Luchsinger, retired and living in New
Hampshire, said the issue with historic sites was not just finding the
money to make them more resilient, but also slowing the emissions that
are putting them at risk in the first place.
“To
turn a blind eye on how sea-level rise and climate change are going to
affect preserving our history is just, to me, unacceptable,” he said.
“That’s where we come from. That is who we are.”
Links
- A Crack in an Antarctic Ice Shelf Grew 17 Miles in the Last Two Months FEB. 7, 2017
- Earth Sets a Temperature Record for the Third Straight Year JAN. 18, 2017
- Large Sections of Australia’s Great Reef Are Now Dead, Scientists Find MARCH 15, 2017
- Graphic: How 2016 Became Earth’s Hottest Year on Record
- Isle of the Dead Cemetery Tour
- Visiting the Coal Mines
- Port Arthur
- Global Warming & Climate Change
- Australia scrubbed from UN climate change report after government intervention
- Back-to-back bleaching has now hit two-thirds of the Great Barrier Reef
- Sea-Level Rise from the Late 19th to the Early 21st Century