Fending off coastal erosion: one Co Kerry community's story
This is the case in Maharees in west Kerry. Knowing the odds are stacked against you, what can you do? They have completed that soul-searching process and are acting upon it. It's a realisation that will soon confront hundreds of small communities around the Irish coastline, who will need to decide how they respond.
Rather than giving in to doomism, a remarkable form of collective action can emerge if the right approach to community engagement is adopted, says
Maharees Conservation Association
co-founder Martha Farrell. It's about being frank but not dictating, balancing self-education with expert input.
'We're giving it our best shot. We're not magicians. We can't turn back sea-level rise [but] we can make it as liveable for people as possible,' she says.
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The Maharees is like a large 'Y' separating Brandon Bay and Tralee Bay. The 5km-long tombola – Ireland's largest – is described as a bar or finger-like spit. It is, in effect, the community's only protection, Farrell says, and yet its most fragile asset links offshore islands located at the top of the Y.
Marram grass, which they have planted extensively, stabilises the dune system and yet is fragile: 'It can be destroyed by just 10 footsteps'. It captures wind-driven sand. Chestnut fences meanwhile, stretching 800m to the west and in parts to the east, designate beach access routes and prevent grass from being trampled.
As if that is not challenging enough, Maharees has a unique ecosystem created and constantly changed by wind, rain and sea. It is home to Ireland's largest amphibian, the natterjack toad. It is at the heart of a special area of conservation. Tralee Bay is an important breeding site for critically-endangered species such as angel sharks and white skates and an-EU designated special protection area for birdlife. They are in 'a living lab', Farrell says.
But its vulnerability was becoming glaringly obvious, and the association emerged from this. The sea side was being lost and human activities – raves and parties in the dunes, 'wild parking' – were accelerating its demise. Over the winter of 2015-2016 the only road in and out of the Maharees peninsula was impassible on 17 occasions as raging seas threw up vast amounts of sand.
Visiting on a sunny June day, its beauty and fragility is evident with large numbers of holidaymakers, watersports enthusiasts and day-trippers. A survey in August 2019 recorded 23,040 cars travelling the narrow Maharees road in one week.
Group members are at Magherabeg Cut, having completed a beach clean. They stumbled across a nesting ringed plover and are concerned beach users will encroach.
Locals Janne Spillane and Zoe Rush at work on the sand dunes. Photograph: Domnick Walsh
Polite 'please keep off dunes' have given way to more blunt signage: 'Sand Dunes: They protect us! Let's protect them ... no wild camping.' Aerial photos show this has been successful.
Maintaining the dynamic of the dunes is critical, Farrell says. It requires wrestling with evolving processes of sand erosion and natural deposition. Seaward facing dunes are in constant battle with the sea. And yet Marram planting and fencing is now revealing growback to levels last seen before human influence.
The conversation began with two questions. 'We asked the people, 'what do you value about the place? What do you want the future Maharees to be?' There was no mention of climate change. Our vision came out of that,' she adds.
Through an alliance with Creative Ireland and local development agency the
Dingle Hub
, the
Neart Na Machairí
project has brought their efforts to the next level. It has embedded creativity 'to help rethink behaviours and take action to ensure the Maharees is well-adapted in the face of climate change and biodiversity loss', says project designer Zoë Rush – neart being Irish for strength.
Chestnut fences designate beach access routes and prevent Marram grass from being trampled. Photograph: Domnick Walsh
Three artists – 'creative practitioners' – Emer Fallon, Silke Michels and Zoë Uí Fhaoláin-Green – help facilitate a creative and collaborative exploration of the future of Maharees. This will inform a community adaptation plan that will benefit many others directly facing the prospect of 1m sea-level rise this century. It has got strong backing from State agencies (particularly the National Parks & Wildlife Service); Kerry Co Council, academics and NGOs.
'Coastal resilience requires an integrated approach, drawing from deep place-based knowledge of these habitats and the customs and traditions of people who live within them, [with] expert guidance and collaboration with State agencies to support and incorporate community visions of change within strategic and financial planning provided by Dingle Hub,' Rush says.
'This is far more than artists just listening to communities and then illustrating their needs,' she says. It is working closely with 'a conservation group who have such a good connection with the people'.
A steering group of four conservation group members was enhanced by locals from different sectors, going beyond the 50 people out of a population of 300 already active volunteers. Through intensive circulation of information and invites to events, 10 'community partners' were added; people ranging across tourism/hospitality; watersports, farming, fishing and long-term visitors.
The first year was 'a climate learning journey', bringing in different experts with knowledge on habitats, ecology and coastal erosion, explaining risks to the community and 'how they make those decisions that will then affect their long-term prospects', Rush says.
After a year 'all the community partners said, 'it's great listening and learning all this but we want action'.' Informed by workshops, the project was rejigged. Long-term visitor Mairead Kinsella wanted to share learning in a flyer for other visitors, Airbnbs and local businesses.
This is not a typical 'come and visit this lovely place' guide. It represents a creative response to the unique biodiversity of the region and its vulnerabilities to climate change. It encourages visitors to consider their role in preserving the natural beauty and ecological integrity of the places they enjoy; the essence of regenerative tourism.
Association chair Aidan O'Connor praised her contribution at a launch event in April: 'She listened to our story, learned about the challenges we face due to climate change, and created something that supports and uplifts us.'
The Maharees in Co Kerry separates Brandon Bay and Tralee Bay. Photograph: Domnick Walsh
Farrell says it's about sharing their identity: 'showing we are doing this already; you can go here, you can go there and learn about this place with us.' They want sustainable tourism as it is the lifeblood of the community, whether that's camper vans in the right place, people coming to their holiday homes or surfers in September – but not gentrification.
Striking the right balance is endlessly challenging, not to mention the vulnerability of local heritage to climate change and need for resilient local food supplies. Farrell highlights the precarious location of the graveyard where her father's remains are buried. It is on an exposed mini headland beside a 13th century church looking out to Oileán tSeanaigh with its ancient monastic settlement.
A total of 22 groups have visited their area seeking guidance. 'Some are looking for the magic wand but it's really about persistent graft, raising awareness and networking.'
Yes, there are fears about runaway climate change, but what is more immediately scary, Farrell says, is working out how they can buy a rundown schoolhouse so it becomes their 'community resilience hub'; a place for people to gather and a haven when extreme weather and power outages strike again. After all, this is a group of committed volunteers 'with just 21 binoculars and a fold-up tent' in their possession.
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