Burned but unbowed in Malibu

The Star

07-05-2025

DEAN and Denise Wenner were smitten the moment they found the Cape Cod-style home in 2019.
Perched above Santa Monica Bay in California, its five bedrooms stretched across three levels, with decks hanging so close to the Pacific that it felt like an ocean liner. On a good day, the view swept from Palos Verdes to Point Dume.
But the Wenners are now among more than 300 families who lost homes in the January firestorms along the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu – and their path to rebuilding may be even more daunting than that of inland neighbours.
The reason? The very features that made these properties so special – a precarious foothold on the coast – now pose the biggest challenge.
Burned by fire from the north and east, owners must now build back stronger, higher and better prepared for an increasingly volatile ocean to the south and west.
That means not only meeting stringent fireproofing standards, but also elevating homes several metres, reinforcing foundations and installing new or upgraded seawalls.
These steps are essential to protect properties – and their ageing septic systems – from rising seas and intensified storms driven by climate change.
The coastal rebuilding effort reflects a broader California tension: nature may warn us this land is unsafe, but politics, emotion and property rights push families to reclaim what's been lost.
'Right now it would be political suicide for anyone in public office to talk about not rebuilding everything and anything after the fires,' said one veteran observer of coastal development, who declined to be named for fear of alienating locals.
'This is not a time that invites the most thoughtful policy discussion.'
Which is why alternatives, such as removing homes from the shoreline to accommodate the advancing sea, remain politically off-limits – despite growing support among climate experts.
'I think we suffer from what I call a short disaster memory,' said Gary Griggs, an oceanographer and coastal geologist at UC Santa Cruz. 'We want to rebuild as fast as we can, but the impermanence of coastal construction is not something most people are interested in hearing about.'
Many of the fire victims along Malibu's eastern edge inherited their homes, with most of their wealth tied up in the property.
What they want, they say, is no different from inland residents: a chance to restore their lives.
'The reality is, the fire should never have made it over here,' said Wenner, a 57-year-old engineer, blaming slow initial firefighting efforts. 'Somebody took something from us. That never should have happened. And now we just want it back.'
'For us, Malibu is in our bones – especially the ocean,' said Julie Sutton Bacino, whose parents lost their home on Big Rock Beach after living there since the 1950s. 'We just want to rebuild what we had.'
Unlike inland areas, the damage here has continued. With little dry sand and protective shore, waves still wash charred debris into Santa Monica Bay months after the fire swept from Topanga Canyon Boulevard to Carbon Canyon.
Weakened seawalls and missing homes have left even Highway 1 more exposed to erosion.
And buried under the rubble are hundreds of septic tanks – many unexamined and unpumped since the fire. There are growing fears of waste leakage into the sea.
'It's really top of mind, because it's Malibu and protecting the environment is part of our mission statement,' said Malibu mayor Doug Stewart. 'Every day that goes by, it just hurts us a little bit more.'
The Army Corps of Engineers has begun clearing debris from some sites, but progress is slow. Steeper lots will require extra care to avoid damaging buried infrastructure.
Meanwhile, the prospect of replacing or upgrading individual wastewater systems has stoked anxiety. Some residents may need to install larger tanks with better protective systems – a process that could cost upwards of US$250,000.
Fearing such bills, some are reviving the idea of a sewer system – long opposed in Malibu. In fact, the city's 1991 incorporation was partly motivated by a desire to prevent Los Angeles County from building one, amid concerns it would fuel overdevelopment.
Mayor Stewart said he sympathised but feared that debating and building such a system would take years.
'Let's not kid ourselves and think we can wait three or four or five years to get a sewer system and then start rebuilding homes,' he said. 'We want to get people back in their houses.'
Homeowners are exploring cost-sharing solutions. Some have proposed joint seawalls to protect clusters of homes.
But not everyone can share defences, and full coastal 'armouring' – including concrete pilings and new foundations – can cost millions.
'It's easy to require all this,' said local architect Doug Burdge. 'But who is paying for it?'
Costs might be somewhat reduced after Governor Gavin Newsom waived the California Environmental Quality Act and the state Coastal Act, both of which had often delayed rebuilding.
The Coastal Commission has long discouraged seawalls, citing their role in accelerating beach erosion, but Newsom's executive action has put that resistance on pause.
Contrary to Malibu's celebrity image, many of the fire victims are not wealthy. Some live on modest incomes and are unsure if insurance will cover rebuilding.
Wenner said his policy through the California Fair Plan offers up to US$3mil, but with rebuild costs now hitting US$10,700 per square metre, he doubts it will be enough.
'The longer it takes you to rebuild, the more it's going to cost,' he said. 'It just mounts and the whole challenge becomes steeper.'
Many of the destroyed homes date back to the 1940s or earlier – built long before rising seas and coastal regulations were part of the equation.
Today, some scientists warn sea levels could rise nearly 3m by century's end.
But stronger storms and more powerful waves could be the more immediate threat, said Griggs.
Despite this, few public officials are talking about 'managed retreat' – the removal of properties from high-risk areas. But some suggest now might be the right moment.
'There are people who will feel it's too risky to stay in place,' said Michael Wellborn, board president of the California Watershed Network. 'So it might be prime time for (a non-profit) to acquire some of that land for open space and preservation.'
For now, the Wenners remain focused on rebuilding. They vividly remember the storm of 2019 that battered their seawall, sent waves crashing through the deck and first-floor windows.
'The house was rattling so much it scared the hell out of us,' Wenner recalled.
But he also remembers peaceful mornings with coffee on the deck, watching seals bask on nearby rocks.
'When you're out on the deck or down on the beach, everything just disappears,' he said. 'It's the best.' — Los Angeles Times/TNS