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Nature's Design: The Barrier Beach
Cycle
From "Breakthrough: The Story
of Chatham's North Beach"
[Part 2]
At the same time, other, less
visible forces are at work on the beach. Coastal submergence is
the term used to describe the increase in sea level relative to
the mainland, which is actually sinking due to gravity and other
pressures. Submergence shapes the contours of the shoreline —
both on the inner and outer beaches — and even a slight increase
in the rate of the ocean's rise can have a drastic effect on the
coast. In his report, Dr. Giese cited a sea level increase of
between .005 and .01 feet per year, resulting in one-quarter to
one-eighth of an acre of upland being lost to the ocean for
every linear mile of coast.
Estimates of the rate of sea
level rise have been revised upwards in the years since Dr.
Giese wrote his report. The Greenhouse Effect — the warming of
the Earth's temperature due to the introduction of synthetic
compounds, man-made gases and chemicals into the atmosphere — is
considered the major culprit; the compounds trap the planet's
radiant heat, hastening the melting of our old friends, the
glaciers, now relegated to the extreme north and south poles.
Although the Greenhouse Effect theory remains controversial and
is not universally accepted, estimates of the sea's increasing
levels range from .45 feet to 1.57 feet per year; the latter
figure, a "worst case" scenario presented in a Commonwealth of
Massachusetts report in 1987, would consume 3.11 percent of
Chatham's upland annually, cause massive erosion and drastic
changes in marine habitats. In real terms, sea level rise has
yet to make much of an impact on New England, yet the results of
the 1987 breakthrough in Chatham, which created higher tides and
more opportunity for storm damage, provided a glimpse of a
potentially devastating future.
The triad of factors controlling
North Beach's shape, then, are coastal submergence, sea level
rise, and wave and tidal action. Now we know what the beach is,
how it got here, and what forces are at work on it; how do these
factors mesh to create a regular cycle of beach growth,
breaching, disintegration and regrowth?
At both the beginning and end of
the cycle, North Beach is one continuous stretch of sand,
extending southerly from Orleans, enveloping Pleasant Bay and
Chatham, as it was before the 1987 breach, and as historical
maps show it was in 1846. Once the southern end of the beach
begins to overlap Monomoy, the tidal flow in and out of Chatham
Harbor and Pleasant Bay becomes constricted; it's like four
lanes of traffic suddenly narrowing to one. Anyone who has drive
down Route 6 in Dennis at the height of the summer season knows
that means gridlock. The same thing happens to tidal flow. The
estuary's resources wane and water stagnates as the tidal flow
ebbs before an adequate amount of water can be exchanged between
ocean and bay. Tidal ranges between the inner and outer beaches
draw farther apart; the ocean side stands at about six to seven
feet, the harbor and bay nearly three and a half. There is about
a two-hour lag between high and low tide on either side of the
barrier beach. Treacherous shoals and bars, infamous off Chatham
for centuries, develop at the mouth of the harbor, known as the
South Way in the latter stages of the cycle.
With the stage set thus, the time
is right for a breach. Now, as Professor Mitchell noted, "the
too confined waters of Pleasant Bay force a more direct outlet
again, and the march of the beach from above has recommenced."
It’s like squeezing a tube of
toothpaste with the cap still on. The material under pressure
has to go someplace. In the case of North Beach, a new inlet is
created in the place of least resistance: historically, this has
been opposite Minister's (Allen's) Point. Factors must be right
for a permanent break to occur: usually a high pressure weather
system, which drains the bay and harbor to lower-than-normal
levels, a strong northeast storm and higher-than-normal tides.
All of these were present when the beach broke in January 1987.
The location of the most recent
break was somewhat unexpected; inlets had formed east of
Minister's Point in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries, according
to a study by geologist Charles E. McClennen. Even Dr. Giese, in
his 1978 report, projected a late 20th century breakthrough
opposite Minister's Point. Nature, defying predictions as
always, stole south in 1987 when nobody was looking and punched
a hole through the beach directly opposite the Chatham
Lighthouse.
When a breach is wide and deep
and permanent enough, the differences in the hydrological
pressure between the harbor and the ocean speed the tidal
exchange through the new inlet, scour it and keep it open, all
the time battling the southern littoral drift which naturally
wants to plug the hole up again. The velocity of the current
instead sweeps sediment into the harbor, plugging that up, much
to the consternation of fishermen and recreational boaters.
Literally starved of sand, the southern portion of the beach
(South Beach in local parlance), now an island off and on
connected to the mainland, gradually over a period of decades is
eroded and overwashed westward, filling up the inner harbor with
shoals and flats and cutting off the old southern inlet.
Eventually South Beach disappears, the sand migrated onto the
mainland, Morris Island, and the northern end of Monomoy. North
Beach's southern tip then slowly begins to grow southward.
Then the cycle starts all over
again.
No doubt this has been happening
for thousands of years, but reliable maps and records
documenting the process go back only two centuries. A permanent
break in the making was first viewed by eyewitnesses in 1846;
previous to that the harbor had become so choked and constricted
with shoals that it threatened to ruin Chatham's seafaring
economy. In 1841, Edward Hitchcock noted that 20 years earlier,
Chatham's harbor was excellent; but two decades later it had
filled in. "Nothing can save it from complete destruction," he
wrote, "but forming a new entrance."
The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers
would use almost the same language in a 1968 report on the
feasibility of cutting a new inlet in North Beach. "Daily tidal
delays [have] become common to the commercial fishing boats as
well as a threat to life," the report stated, concluding that
"if no navigational improvements are made in the area, it is
expected that the existing Chatham Harbor inlet will in the not
too distant future close completely." (The corps' report is
explored in depth in Chapter Two.)
The area was first mapped by
English navigator Bartholomew Gosnold in 1602. From descriptions
of his sightings in W. Sears Nickerson's Land Ho! and
elsewhere, it appears that at the time, North Beach had been
breached some years before and was well into the inlet migration
cycle. The land he named Gilbert Point was attached to the
mainland at approximately the present day location of Minister's
Point, and curved south and east to a point opposite the present
day lighthouse. In 1606, Samuel De Champlain produced a map
describing a spit that terminated more to the south. Records of
Sutcliffe's Inlet of 1619, which opened into Pleasant Bay east
of Strong Island, and Governor William Bradford's 1622 entrance
north of that seem to indicate that the beach was in the process
of breaking up, with washovers and inlets forming up and down
its length.
Since 1620, Goldsmith noted,
North Beach has undergone "at least two, probably three full
cycles of the large scale inlet migration." From the maps and
descriptions extant, it seems likely that a major breach
occurred sometime prior to Gosnold's visit in 1602, probably
opposite Minister's Point. The severed southern portion of the
broken beach attached itself to North Chatham, as if the
mainland had grown an arm, and gradually welded onto the
shoreline. Des Barres put the entrance to "Old Harbor" just
north of Minister's Point in 1740; the beach built steadily
south from there until the next major breach, in 1846. The 1740
entrance probably marked the spot of another major breakthrough.
Will this process continue for
thousands of years to come? Dr. Giese doesn't think so.
He noted in his report that like
the cliffs to the north, Nauset/North Beach is also moving
westward year by year, an important factor when it comes to
restricting the flow of water in and out of Pleasant Bay, Sand
is moved from the east side of the barrier beach to the west by
winds and storm washovers, and it is also deposited along the
inner beach as flood tidal deltas. According to Giese, the
entire beach shifts west at a rate of between five and 10 feet a
year.
Perhaps the most dramatic
demonstration of the beach's constant desire to "go west" is the
case of the Sparrow Hawk. The ship either piled up on shoals or
was wrecked in the night, according to William Bradford, on the
inner shore of Nauset Beach just south of Hog Island in greater
Pleasant Bay in 1626. The wreck was discovered 237 years later
when erosion on the outer shore uncovered the wooden
remains. During the intervening years, the beach had moved west
a distance approximately equal to its width, about 1,000 feet,
right over the wrecked ship.
Giese theorizes that after
several more cycles, the northernmost portion of North Beach
will have migrated so far west that it will "no longer overlap
the mainland of Chatham. Rather, the barrier beach system will
stop at North Chatham, the coast from North Chatham to Morris
Island will be exposed to ocean waves and an ever-widening
barrier spit will extend southward from Morris Island."
Which means that, about 500 years
from today, the open-ocean exposure and tremendous erosion
Chatham's eastern shoreline has experienced in recent times
could be status quo. That probably wouldn’t have surprised our
forefathers. They might not have had the scientific
understanding of the barrier beach cycle we have today, but when
devastation came, when lighthouses tumbled into the sea and
waves lapped at doorsteps, they didn’t complain or attempt to
fight back against nature. They took it in stride, built new
lighthouses away from the sea cliffs and moved their homes
inland. In some innate way, born, probably, of their close
association with the sea, they understood and accepted the
powerful, unseen hands that constantly mold the beach. That
appreciation seems lost today.
* * *
In April 1988, after more than a
year of observations, Dr. Giese came up with a few revised
theories about the North Beach barrier beach system. There
appeared to be three separate and distinct phases to the
process: first, the switch in emphasis from the southern inlet
to the new cut, which happened much quicker than expected; after
just over a year, Dr. Giese estimated 90 percent of the tidal
exchange between the Chatham Harbor/Pleasant Bay system and the
ocean flowed through the break.
We are now in the midst of the
second phase, the breaking up of South Beach. For the past
several years, a bridge of sand has connected the beach to the
mainland just south of Lighthouse Beach. In a recent study,
scientists predicted that in a matter of years, all of the sand
between South Beach and the mainland will be gone, washed onto
the mainland or lost to the deep water. Starved of sand, South
Beach's dunes are getting lower and lower. In a slow process
that could take up to 50 years, overwashes will lower the beach
even more, and it will begin to break up, the sand drifting
southwesterly and possibly melding onto the mainland from the
Morris Island dike south. A large salt marsh would be lost, but
ironically the sand could protect dozens of homes lying between
Little Beach and Morris Island Road, and Morris Island itself,
from devastating erosion. Chatham’s eastern shoreline would then
look much as it did some 50 years ago, with a clear path lying
ahead of North Beach as it begins the third and final phase of
the process: building south once more toward the next inevitable
breakthrough.
[Part 1]
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