Erosion

HOLLAND ISLAND -- When he closes his eyes, Stephen L. White can see it all: the neat row of white clapboard houses, the plain country schoolhouse, the skipjacks and work boats in the harbor, the steeple of the Methodist church. He can almost hear the crunch of long-ago footsteps on oyster shell roads that once cut through the marsh of his remote island.It is his island now. Eighty years after most residents had bowed to the relentless Chesapeake tides, hauling their homes and belongings on barges and schooners to the Maryland mainland, White has drawn a quixotic line against erosion that has gobbled all but 80 acres of sand and marsh of Holland Island in the middle of the bay.A developer-builder and former Methodist minister from Salisbury, White has put up $40,000 to buy the last remaining house and about 75 marshy acres.

Imagine picking up a set of encyclopedia stacked way up over your head and carrying it across the room.Now imagine the stack is 200 feet tall, weighs 8.8 million pounds, and you have to carry it across more than a half-mile of sand. Oh, and the entire country will be watching to see if you drop it.That's the task facing the International Chimney Corp. and its Maryland subcontractor this week as they prepare to move the 129-year-old Cape Hatteras Lighthouse -- the tallest brick lighthouse in the world -- back from the encroaching surf.

"Against the Tide: The Battle for America's Beaches," by Cornelia Dean. Columbia University Press. 336 pages. $24.95.If you can see the ocean, the ocean can see you."This cautionary comment by eminent beach geologist Orrin H. Pilkey, as quoted in "Against the Tide," sent a shiver down this shore-dweller's spine. And it should. When you live within earshot of the sea, your house is built on a shifting foundation. You have two choices: accept that your perch is impermanent, or fight the forces of nature in a battle that at best, will be a costly and endless stalemate.

Bulldozers scraped soil yesterday from the north face of Federal Hill as part of a $1.9 million project to halt erosion on the historic site overlooking the Inner Harbor.It is the third time in seven years the city has tried to stabilize the 80-foot hill, from which Union troops trained cannons on occupied Baltimore during the Civil War.In 1992, the city spent $1.4 million installing drains and a retaining wall in an attempt to stop the erosion. Three years later, it spent $500,000 trying to repair the drains.

HOWARD COUNTY is especially known for two things in Maryland: Pride in the high quality of its schools and Columbia, the "new town" created on the principle of inclusiveness. Both appear threatened, judging by the recent report that white parents in Columbia are pulling their children out of a diverse, older middle school and pooling nearly $40,000 to bus them to a newer, less diverse school just outside the unincorporated, planned city.The news is alarming: It suggests an erosion of confidence in Howard schools.

From the beginning, John L. Baker said he was fighting for the environment, trying to save the last undeveloped plot of land in his Ellicott City neighborhood.But over the years, a drainage pipe on Baker's property off Bonnie View Court has carved a ditch in the 10-acre wooded lot adjacent to his house, dumping unknown quantities of silt into wetlands and streams that feed into the Chesapeake Bay, a developer contends.Ron Wildman, who wants to develop the 10 acres known as Bonnie Branch Overlook, blames Baker for neglecting the pipe and harming the environment, even after Howard County officials warned Baker about the erosion problem and offered him several options for resolving it.Wildman wants to build 10 houses on Bonnie Branch Overlook, which is home to streams, woods, wetlands and wildlife.

Baltimore's historic Federal Hill Park, site of Union army battlements in the Civil War and a 1788 parade and party celebrating Maryland's ratification of the Constitution, is distinguishing itself once again -- as a money pit.Steadily eroding, the landmark is creating a mountain of bills as the city searches for a permanent solution to the hill's problems.In 1992, the city spent $900,000 on drainage control and stabilization to halt frequent cave-ins and erosion. Three years later, crews returned to the grassy hill, this time for about $500,000 worth of erosion control as part of a park face lift.

THE IMMEDIATE remedy may be no more than a Band-Aid, but the repair of a badly eroded strip of Assateague Island is a true emergency.The $4 million project is needed to prevent the unique barrier island from splitting into several islets through the action of ocean storms and tidal erosion.The National Park Service, which manages the national seashore, wants to dump 350,000 cubic yards of sand on a 1.5-mile stretch that was badly damaged by recent heavy storms. It wants the Army Corps of Engineers to pay for most of the work, and to approve the project as economically and environmentally sound.

Something strange is happening in Relay.Jack Herbert's two-story Victorian home is breaking apart. Down the street, Elizabeth Bennett's kitchen is threatening to detach itself from her 115-year-old house. Another neighbor's porch has crumbled. Even the street, Viaduct Avenue, is pockmarked with cracks, crevices and dips.Parts of this historic railroad town near Patapsco Valley State Park in Baltimore County's southwestern corridor are sinking. But finding the root of the problem might require the detective skills of a Sherlock Holmes -- or an expert in the physical sciences.

For 162 years until it fell into the sea in 1926, the landmark Cape Henlopen, Del., lighthouse had warned mariners away from the treacherous shoals that surround the entrance to Delaware Bay.For many years, it was not only the tallest structure in Sussex County, Del., but guarded the entrance to one of the nation's busiest commercial estuaries.When constructed by the British in 1764, the tower was a mile from shore facing the Hen and Chickens shoals, named for a large shoal surrounded by smaller ones.

The fight over who will review developers' erosion- and sediment-control plans and who will pay for that work entered a new phase Tuesday with the Howard County Council's unanimous approval of new fees for the services. The council's action means the independently run Howard County Soil Conservation District that does the work now can charge developers fees to pay the two employees who review the plans. Previously, the district used $220,000 in county funds - eliminated from the budget July 1. But the vote doesn't mean the issue is resolved.

The state has agreed to make builders do more to keep soil from washing off construction sites when it rains, settling a legal challenge contending that Maryland isn't doing enough to curb a growing source of pollution fouling streams and the Chesapeake Bay. Under the settlement, the Maryland Department of the Environment pledges to update within the next year its requirements for controlling erosion and sediment runoff from building sites. The department also agrees to give closer scrutiny to larger construction projects, requiring individual permits for any that clear more than 150 acres.

Our neighbor said we should dump our leaf piles on the river bank for erosion control. Does this work? This might seem like a good idea but it would be terrible for the Chesapeake Bay if done on any waterway, large or small. Of course, stopping erosion is good and recycling leaves on-site is good. The problem is that decomposing leaves release loads of nitrogen, which then gets washed immediately into the bay. High levels of nitrogen, whether from fertilizer in home lawns, animal manure or farms fields, make algae growth explode in the bay. Algae soon dies, and its decomposition uses up the oxygen in the water.

Critic's Pick -- Host Mike Rowe learns there's more to erosion control than one might think in Dirty Jobs (9 p.m., Discovery).

The Patrick family employs several farming techniques that contributed to their selection as 2007 inductees into the Maryland Agriculture Hall of Fame, according to the governor's office. They include: Crop rotation -- switching the crop planted in the same space between seasons to prevent depletion of the soil. No-till farming -- planting seeds in a small line dug by a disc in lieu of digging, or tilling, all the soil within the plot. Grassed waterways -- planting land with grass to stem soil erosion by slowing water runoff and guiding it into a designated outlet.

The Columbia Association board has agreed to spend $250,000 for a consultant to develop a watershed management plan, contingent on approval of the scope of work to be done. That plan, designed to protect Columbia's waterways from erosion and pollution, includes the creation of an advisory group made up of volunteers from each of Columbia's 10 villages to guide the process. Board members discussed Thursday night whether to hold off on approval of the consultant until more specifics could be outlined but decided to set the money aside now. Initially, Cynthia Coyle, who represents Harper's Choice, had opposed approval.

ISTANBUL, Turkey -- Turkish voters handed the Islamist- influenced ruling party a decisive victory in parliamentary elections yesterday, rewarding it for stewardship of the country's robust economy but raising the specter of bitter new quarrels over the feared erosion of Turkey's secular traditions. With more than two-thirds of the votes counted, the Justice and Development Party, known by its Turkish initials AKP, garnered about 48 percent of the vote, according to unofficial results - a substantial increase over the 34 percent it received in elections five years ago when it came to power.

Jeff Brauner of Baltimore likes Jersey beaches better than Maryland's: "The sand is whiter, finer, and the gradient into the ocean is gentler, making the surf gentler. They're so different. Is this weather-related?" No. Stephen "Dr. Beach" Leatherman, at Florida International University, says Jersey beaches have fine, quartz sand. We've dredged coarse, shelly, offshore sands onto our developed beaches to fight erosion. But, "the coarser the sand, the steeper the beach," he says. Try Assateague.

Stony Run is about to get ugly, and it's a good thing, too. Over the past several years, sampling by Baltimore's Department of Public Works found that this unassuming and untended urban stream was carrying a far greater load of sediment and phosphorus into the harbor and, ultimately, the Chesapeake Bay than anyone had imagined. Bill Stack, chief of the water quality section, calls it a "Eureka" moment. The department's response is to reconstruct the stream along almost all of its 3.3 miles, creating step pools and a flood plain to put the brakes on the flow of water and slow the erosion.

Outraged by lack of treatment slots Alec MacGillis' article "Helping those on threshold" (Oct. 12) highlights the preposterous and ongoing failure of Baltimore's drug treatment efforts. For decades we have heard that the biggest single cause of social decay and crime in the city is drug abuse. We are told an estimated 60,000 to 80,000 drug addicts in the city are at the root of family disintegration, rampant crime, crowded prisons, failing schools, white flight, tax base erosion - you name it. Yet when addicts finally decide to seek help, kick their habits and try to become functional citizens, they are told there are no slots for their treatment.