This story was originally published by ICT and is reproduced here as part of the Global Indigenous Affairs DeskA Native-led collaboration between Grist, High Country News, ICT, Mongabay, Native News Online and APTN.
A little over a century ago, the town of Taholah was built where the ocean meets the Quinault River. Today when there is too much rain, or a storm surge, water will rush past Quinault Street, down 2nd, 3rd all through town, filling lots and homes with salt water.
Ryan Hendricks points to the seawall and remembers one such flood. “It’s almost like a geyser shooting through the rocks,” said Hendricks, a member of the Quinault Indian Nation’s Tribal Council. “The water came in from the river and just entered the town directly. And then over here… the water didn’t really come over the wall. It just came through the rocks like a geyser. So it just almost pushed with the speed of like a natural river current.”
The Quinault Nation faces dangerous long-term currents. Taholah is barely inches above sea level and the sea level is rising. In addition, there is a growing number of storm surges, where floodwaters are driven by strong winds.
What makes the Quinault story so powerful is that it is a window into our future: It is the idea that a changing climate will determine where and how we will live, what we will eat and how much it will cost.
The Quinault Nation has been deliberate in its response, debating over the past few decades how to protect its lands, its fish, people and property. After many community meetings, the conclusion was reached in a 2017 Tribal Master Plan, a move to higher ground.
That plan included a new village, about half a mile uphill, that would protect residents from storm surges or even a potentially catastrophic tsunami. Relocation will include “smart growth techniques, including low-impact development and green infrastructure to better prepare the community for the future climate.”
Stewart Huntington/ICT
The easy part of relocation is already done. The nation has built what is needed for a new community. The streets are paved. The sewers are in. And only a few things are missing: houses and inhabitants.
The new village “must be designed to be as resilient as possible,” the master plan said. “Even small events, such as windstorms, close roads and power lines, isolating the town. Planning for safe harbors in case of disasters and alternative energy sources is therefore a must when determining facility location, size, orientation and programming.”
In a reflection of Native values, the first building opened by the nation was the Generations House, a 30,000-square-foot building serving elders, Head Start, day care and adult education.
“This was our most modern effort to resettle our most vital citizens with all our next generations,” says Hendricks. “This is a shared building with all our most valuable resources, our children. And then, all our most valuable information holders are our elders on the other side [of the building].”
The Generations House is also the meeting point should there be an emergency.
There are many questions that need to be answered before any houses are built.
“We penciled in what a house would cost. And right now we’re sitting at somewhere between $350 and $400,000 per house,” says Hendricks. This is a number that is unaffordable for most tribal members.
And what about the people now living in Taholah who have paid off their mortgages – especially elders?
“Why would they come up with a new mortgage? Well, they already have a house to themselves. And then there’s someone who said, ‘Well, we don’t have the means to pay for a new house. Is the tribe going to buy my house?’” Hendricks asked.
This means that the nation must still work through these scenarios and come up with individual solutions.
And that starts with a community-based plan.
“I had the chance to visit Quinault a year ago, and they’re doing incredible work on climate change and climate resilience,” said Interior Department Assistant Secretary for Indian Affairs Bryan Newland. “This is one of three communities that will serve as sort of pilot projects, if you will, on community-driven resettlement. And they do just amazing work. I was really impressed by their foresight in their planning and how they really think through many issues that are not intuitive and work to address them. And so I was really impressed. And, you know, we shouldn’t be surprised that when tribes have resources, they are able to do very impressive things. And so I’m looking forward to seeing where they’re going to take it.”
For now, the bottom line is that the Quinault Nation isn’t sure where more than $450 million will come from to pay for this relocation.
But here’s the thing. The Quinault Nation is further along in this kind of planning than almost every community on the planet. Driving up the coast to get here, we passed through low-level towns and even cities that reflect the scale of the problem. And it is clear that neither the region nor the country determines what needs to be done and what it will cost.
