Coincidentally, as I happened upon this Washington Post article that focuses on Charleston, South Carolina, but which is all too applicable to coastal Virginia, we received the annual flood insurance premium invoice and it's almost as much as I paid for the first car I bought new after graduating from law school. The premium is up about 8% over last year's amount and like some of the property owners cited in the article, the value of our waterfront property has plateaued (but, thankfully has not fallen since the 2008 housing market collapse) due to the increased concerns over rise sea levels and past flooding episodes. Meanwhile, of course, Republicans at both the Virginia level and Congressional level are claiming that climate change is a hoax and sea levels are not rising. And meanwhile, many coastal communities are seeing their tax base eroded as properties become more difficult to sell. Parts of Norfolk, Virginia Beach, Chesapeake, Suffolk, Hampton and York County are approaching what is described in the article. Here are article excerpts:
CHARLESTON, S.C. — Elizabeth Boineau’s 1939 Colonial sits a block and a half from the Ashley River in a sought-after neighborhood of ancient live oaks, charming gardens and historic homes. A year ago, she thought she could sell it for nearly $1 million. But after dropping the price 11 times, Boineau has decided to tear it down.In March, the city’s Board of Architectural Review approved the demolition — a decision not taken lightly in Charleston’s historic district.
“Each time that I was just finishing up paying off the bills, another flood would hit,” Boineau said.
Boineau is one of many homeowners on the front lines of society’s confrontation with climate change, living in houses where rising sea levels have worsened flooding not just in extreme events like hurricanes, but also heavy rains and even high tides. Now, three studies have found evidence that the threat of higher seas is also undermining coastal property values, as home buyers — particularly investors — begin the retreat to higher ground.
The sea has risen about eight inches since 1900, and the pace is accelerating, with three inches accumulating since 1993, according to a comprehensive federal climate report released last year. Scientists predict the oceans will rise another three to seven inches by 2030, and as much as 4.3 feet by 2100.
Meanwhile, mapping has become increasingly precise, providing near-exact elevations that let researchers predict when individual properties could be underwater.
[R]esearchers at the University of Colorado at Boulder and Pennsylvania State University found that vulnerable homes sold for 6.6 percent less than unexposed homes. The most vulnerable properties — those that stand to be flooded after seas rise by just one foot — were selling at a 14.7 percent discount, according to the study, which is set to be published in the Journal of Financial Economics.
The study found the drop in prices appears to be driven primarily by investors buying multiple properties or second homes. Such buyers tend to be wealthier and better educated than owners who occupy their coastal homes . . . . “Sophisticated buyers . . . demand a discount to bear the risk of future sea level rise,” Lewis said in an email.
The most-studied market has been Miami-Dade County, parts of which have for years been experiencing regular sunny-day flooding. In a separate paper published in April, researchers at Harvard University found that properties at higher elevations were appreciating faster than properties at lower elevations, a phenomenon they dubbed “climate gentrification.”
Last month, the nonprofit First Street Foundation released the first analysis to single out Charleston, a gracious port city founded in 1670. The analysis suggests that exposed homes in Charleston have lost $266 million in value since 2005 due to coastal flooding and expectations of still higher seas. (Using the same method, the First Street researchers found a $465 million loss in Miami-Dade County.)
Home prices on the coast are “going up along with market trends. They’re just not going up as fast as other places,” said Jeremy Porter, a Columbia University researcher who conducted the First Street study with Steven McAlpine, the group’s head of data science.
Boineau put her house on the market last August priced just shy of $1 million, after repairs from two straight years of flooding that had come up under the house but left the interior largely unaffected. Then in September, the remnants of Hurricane Irma inundated the first floor of the house with eight inches of water. . . . .she dropped the price down to $599,900 and went through a lengthy process to get permission for demolition. Now, Boineau says, a new buyer can build a new elevated property on the lot. When that’s done, her real estate agent, Robin Reeves, said the property should “go for 1.3 to 1.4 million dollars.”
Charleston Mayor John Tecklenburg (I) — himself a former real estate agent — said the city is looking for other ways to protect property values. Officials are considering a “comprehensive set of flooding and sea-level-rise strategies,” including improving pumping systems and raising Charleston’s Battery, a sea wall at the tip of the peninsula.
But those are expensive and complex solutions, Tecklenburg said; even if Charleston had the money, designs are not even in place yet for all of the potential engineering projects.
As city officials adjust, so do Charleston residents. Unable to find a buyer willing to purchase and then repair the home, Boineau decided to demolish it and sell the lot in Harleston Village. She is now renting a condo just across the river from the city’s central peninsula in West Ashley, where her new neighbors have assured her there has been no flooding. She hopes to buy there after the Harleston lot sells. “Charleston,” she said, “is still an incredible place to live.”
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