Living on the Edge — Chairwoman Nelson
On the north shore of Willapa Bay in southwestern Washington State, just barely above sea level, lies the Shoalwater Reservation. As a coastal tribe, Shoalwater is a steward of the great Pacific Ocean. Yet, the same ocean that gives us life now also threatens to destroy us, as the waters wash more and more of the land away. Already, a single tsunami event would take out the entire Tribal community—homes, government, and what defines Shoalwater people.
We have been taking steps to combat coastal erosion for decades, including by working with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to construct an embankment traversing the Reservation’s tidelands and adjacent shoreline, a protective earthen barrier meant to deter the erosion. But the embankment itself began washing away at a rapid pace due to heavy winter storms between 2018 and 2020. The Army Corps worked to rebuild and reinforce the embankment, completing the $40 million replenishment project at the end of 2022. Yet, with all this effort and expense, the barrier will need replenishing in another five years. It is clear that these fixes will not preserve our home in the long term.
We need to move to higher ground to survive as a tribe. We used our own funds to purchase about 1,200 acres, and counting, of land adjacent to the current Reservation. At 250 feet above sea level, this land will provide much better protection for the community. However, the tribe cannot pick and choose landscapes. There are no nearby federal lands, and private timberland is neither cheap nor necessarily simple to just move onto. The land is totally raw and undeveloped, and more still may be needed. There are no utilities, no infrastructure, no roads to speak of. In short, we are starting from scratch.
The full relocation project is expected to cost at least $140 million. That price tag may be low compared to a perpetual fight against ocean erosion, but it requires help. Gathering this funding and putting it to use will be extremely complicated, requiring the tribe to piece together a “patchwork” of various federal resources without any interagency coordination or guidance from the U.S. government.
Navigating Without a Map — Geoff Strommer
Funds for roads, homes, and utilities (water, sewer, electric, broadband, etc.) each have a discrete source from federal agencies, and each source comes with its own regulatory strings attached. Piecing these resources together to coordinate a massive relocation project is a complex, resource-intensive undertaking.
And there is no map to follow. The Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) directly acknowledged this challenge in a 2020 report on climate change relocation needs in Indian Country:
"No relocation-specific [federal] programs exist, therefore funding is pieced together from agencies such as [the Department of Housing and Urban Development] on housing, BIA on planning and transportation, [the Federal Emergency Management Agency] on emergency measures, [the Army Corps] for engineering solutions to erosion issues, [the Indian Health Service] for health infrastructure, and the [Bureau of Indian Education] for schools/education infrastructure, etc. This patchwork approach leaves gaps in actions due to the criteria of each program and requirements of each (i.e., cost share, technical aptitude needed)."
(BIA, The Unmet Infrastructure Needs of Tribal Communities and Alaska Native Villages in Process of Relocating to Higher Ground as a Result of Climate Change, at 6 (2020).)
Similarly, the Government Accountability Office (GAO) has named “[u]nclear federal leadership” as “the key challenge to climate migration as a resilience strategy.” (GAO, GAO-20-488, A Climate Migration Pilot Program Could Enhance the Nation’s Resilience and Reduce Federal Fiscal Exposure, at 38 (2020).) Since “no agency has been given the authority to lead and organize federal assistance for climate migration,” support “has been limited and provided on an ad hoc basis.” Id.