Climate change arrives in Connecticut, imperiling coastal towns like Groton

GROTON, Conn. — Along the banks of the Mystic River in Groton, Zell Steever points to landmarks he doesn’t expect to survive climate change.

A row of buildings across the water. A gleaming new structure at the end of Gravel Street. Handsome clapboard houses with wide lawns, many dating back to the mid-19th century. All are in danger, says Steever, a white-bearded environmentalist who chairs Groton’s resilience and sustainability task force.

Around the corner, West Main Street bustles with New England charm. Visitors step into boutique clothing stores, shop for books and eat doughnuts in the September sun.

“Oh, by the way,” Steever says, gesturing widely, “this will all be underwater.”

Climate change has already arrived in Connecticut, as demonstrated this summer by scorching temperatures and punishing storms. In the coming decades, its effects will only accelerate.

While the entire state will face increasing impacts of climate change, seaside communities like Groton will feel them most acutely and immediately. As greenhouse gas emissions continue to warm the planet, storms will become more frequent and more intense. Property will be damaged and people displaced. In many cases, the consequences will be particularly severe for vulnerable groups, including the poor and the elderly.

Meanwhile, rising sea levels, fueled by melting glaciers thousands of miles away, will alter everyday life in low-lying areas. According to one estimate, Long Island Sound could rise by as much as 20 inches by 2050, enough to submerge parts of Groton’s shore and cause regular flooding in residential neighborhoods and along key roads. By 2100 — within the lifetime of children born today — the Sound could rise by up to two meters, enough to submerge beaches, commercial areas, most of Groton-New London Airport, and parts of residential areas currently home to thousands of people.

A 2011 study commissioned by the Town of Groton and partly funded by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency warned that climate change could lead to coastal flooding, sewer overflows, loss of wetlands, reduced drinking water capacity, submerged Amtrak lines and a reduction in the “overall quality of life, aesthetics and enjoyment of citizens.”

And yet in Groton, as in many places threatened by climate change, public officials have yet to match the urgency of the crisis with concrete action. For years, local officials have hosted forums, commissioned studies, and floated ideas but implemented few meaningful solutions.

Environmentalists in Groton say something has to change.

“We’ve seen the effects of sea level rise. We’re living with it, right now,” says Frank Bohlen, an emeritus professor of marine sciences at UConn who also serves on Groton’s resilience and sustainability task force. “We don’t need to hypothesize about what’s going to happen in 2050. It’s going on.”

Groton, a town of about 38,000, sits in Connecticut’s southeast corner, across the Thames River from New London and across the Mystic River from Stonington, bordered to the south by Long Island Sound. According to models from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, it is one of the Connecticut towns most prone to sea level rise, among other effects of climate change.

“The coast is particularly vulnerable to the wind impacts as a hurricane comes ashore and the possibility of storm surge with ocean waves that might be 20, 30 feet higher than usual,” said Dan Esty, a Yale professor and former commissioner of the Connecticut Department of Energy and Environmental Protection. “That puts a number of coastal properties right in the line of potential damage.”

Climate change has already imposed itself on Groton in large and small ways. Flooding has become more common. Docks have been raised as water levels have risen. Increased humidity has made summers less pleasant. The local lobster population has diminished, and the local bird populations have shifted. By the time of the 2011 study, Groton’s shoreline had already eroded dozens of yards inland since 1888.

As a result, climate change has begun to seep into public awareness in Groton, more so than in inland parts of the state. Residents in at-risk areas worry about what coastal changes will mean for their homes, while public officials from both the Town of Groton and the City of Groton (two separate entities coexisting under an unusual governing structure) plot resiliency efforts.

“It used to be that if you had a hurricane or a nor’easter coming in, you had flooded streets and it was difficult to get in and out,” Paul Fox, a homeowner in a particularly low-lying neighborhood, said in October. “Now you just live your life around the tides.”

The risks are particularly serious for Groton’s most vulnerable residents. Increased heat will endanger those without air conditioning, particularly in densely populated areas. Extended power outages will be the most damaging for people with nowhere else to go. Storms will threaten residents who can’t easily evacuate.

Aundré Bumgardner, a member of the Groton Town Council, points to Poquonock Bridge, a village within Groton with sizable Black and Latino populations and a median income well below that of the broader town. While residents of Groton’s wealthier neighborhoods can afford to raise their homes to guard against rising sea levels or rebuild following significant damage, renters and working-class homeowners have fewer options.

“A homeowner in Groton Long Point or Jupiter Point may have the capacity to raise their house,” Bumgardner says. “Renters may not have that ability.”

Local businesses in low-lying areas are threatened as well. In Mystic — a popular tourist village that spans Groton and Stonington — Bank Square Books owner Annie Philbrick knows all too well what a major storm can mean for her store, which sits at the bottom of a hill on the corner of West Main and Water Streets, about a block from the Mystic River.

During Hurricane Sandy in 2012, a combination of high tide and an immense tidal surge proved devastating. Although employees had secured the store with sandbags, water surging from the river rose up a few feet behind the building, seeped through its doors and walls, and pooled inside the bookstore.

Philbrick and others managed to save the vast majority of the books, but in the wake of the storm, they had to “tear the entire store apart.” Walls were cut open to dry them out and all of the carpeting was ripped out. Three weeks later, the store reopened with tiled floors — in preparation for future storms.

In the decade since Sandy hit, the bookstore has thrived, expanding into a neighboring storefront. But the threat of another storm is never far from Philbrick’s mind.

“I still sort of have PTSD about it when there’s a high tide and it’s pouring rain,” she said.

Whenever a storm approaches, employees lay down sandbags and move merchandise off the floor. But since Philbrick doesn’t own the building, there is only so much she can do to protect against flooding.

Groton’s two largest employers — and two of the largest employers in all of southeastern Connecticut — are the submarine manufacturer Electric Boat and the Naval Submarine Base that sits along the Thames. Both employ thousands of residents of Groton and surrounding towns.

Much of the submarine base is located above the Thames River floodplain, which protects it from storm surges and sea level rise. But some key infrastructure is on the waterfront and could be vulnerable to surge flooding, a Navy representative said. The base has already begun shoring up older waterfront buildings, installing flood gates across doorways and garage bay openings and raising electrical equipment on concrete pedestals.

Other key businesses face even more immediate threats. Groton-New London Airport, which does not have commercial flights but is used frequently for private transport, sits along the water at sea level and is already prone to flooding. According to NOAA’s models, 20 inches of sea level rise would imperil its runway, and more dramatic increases would submerge much of its airfield.

“We’re looking at [the problem],” Kevin Dillon, executive director of the Connecticut Airport Authority, said recently. “But I can’t say that we have any reasonable answers.”