I got out of Chris’s car and immediately met a scent I hadn’t realised I’d been missing. The air was thick with brine, the breeze carried with it seaweed and salt - a tell-tale sign the ocean was within reach. The others hadn’t arrived yet and I felt a window of opportunity open. I can’t remember the last time I stood on a shoreline facing the open ocean. I had visions of kicking off my boots, then socks, and wading ankle deep into the icy blue (my toes be damned). Maybe I’d find a pebble or a shell. Maybe I’d find a shiny piece of sea glass. So, I got to it, speed walking over the grassy bank with Chris and Izzy because right over the grey concrete barrier would be a beach with pebbles, shells, sea glass and a shoreline I could stand on while icy waters claimed my toes in sacrifice. I was prepared to hurl myself over the wall. I didn’t and I’m very glad for it. Once we reached it and I peered over, my vision dropped straight down to deep grey/blue waters forming stiff peaks before breaking against the barrier. Small waves lapped in and out of grooves cut into the concrete making a bubbling, gurgling noise I’ve never heard water make before. A gust of sea breeze slammed my window shut and the minibus with the rest of Flood CDT’s first cohort arrived. I’d never been to Portsmouth before. I’d never even heard of it until a few weeks ago. Clearly, I had a lot to learn.
Portsmouth is a densely populated city, mostly located on the island of Portsea. It’s the only city in England that is not on the mainland. Being an island city means that it feels the impacts of climate change, sea level rise and angry storms more deeply than other cities in the UK. Enter Coastal Partners - a collective formed of five different councils in 2012 working together to address issues that impact the coastline from Hampshire to West Sussex, and our tour guides for the day. The team at Coastal Partners took us through the different defence projects they had built and implemented around the city. Every project is a well-executed example of what happens when interdisciplinary research, industry and communities collaborate to produce a tangible end product that protects and supports life and livelihoods. We listened to stories about how ideas were conceived then nurtured through the plains of existence until they became something I was running my fingers across, standing on and watching as they served their purpose.
Imagine you’re tasked with building a flood defence. Think of everything you’ll have to consider, now triple it and you still probably won’t come close to the scope of awareness and understanding needed to execute such a project. Not to be cheesy, but teamwork quite literally makes the dream work, at least in the case of the marine biologists, engineers, coastal scientists, archaeologists, protect leads, project managers, funding bodies, city council members etc. that are part of, or work in tandem with Coastal Partners. If I had to think of one word that captures the essence of the work shared with us newly inducted PhD students, it would be “holistic”. It feels like everything was thought of, no stone left unturned, no loose ends. The bubbling grooves in the first barrier we met? Cut in the concrete to avoid an ecological desert. Vertical walls are not ideal and seldom support local wildlife. The textured pattern in the sea facing side of the wall is meant to hold water as sea levels rise encouraging species colonisation because they can stay wet for longer. At Southsea, boulders from Norway hold the beach in place and absorb wave energy. Beneath the boulders are precast tide pools. These tide pools will help seed the revetment, promoting habitat growth which will enhance the overall effectiveness of the defence overtime. In Old Portsmouth, where everything is a scheduled monument, the team quarried the same stone used in the historic parapet wall ensuring an aesthetic continuity as the defence ages and weathers. For a few of their projects in the Portsmouth area, Coastal Partners is often in the unique position of being stretched across time. Their coastal defence schemes must safeguard the past, consider the reality of the present day and plan for an uncertain future. Their projects must be able to hold centuries of human history. These climate defences are cultural heritage in the making.
I wonder what people in the next century will think of them as I wander around Portsmouth with my new friends and mentors. As we explored, I saw people walking their dogs, children running against the wind and people sitting on benches overlooking the Solent. I saw plants, aquatic and terrestrial, making a home. I heard the calls of different birds and watched them perch momentarily on the barriers only to take to the skies again. I saw the different ways these flood defences have been enmeshed with life that surrounds them. These defences mark and make places for all the local wildlife, from the limpets to the humans. When I return to Portsmouth, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for new life on the vertical barrier. I’ll think of the different seaweeds growing under the revetment and wonder about the world beneath the Norwegian boulders. When I go to kick off my boots and stand barefoot on the shore - because I know where to do that now - I’ll think of all the work that went into making this space for me and the other coastal dwellers. Lastly, I’ll think about the ways I might be able to walk a similar path and pay it forward so the ones that come after me might also have a place to look for a pebble, a shell, or a piece of sea glass and sacrifice their toes to the icy blue.