Painful choices for Seacliff State Beach

Among all the painful surprises this winter has brought – Highway 17 closed by snow and falling trees! – none has brought as much attention and sorrow as the devastation at Aptos' Seacliff State Beach.

President Joe Biden, Gov. Gavin Newsom (twice), the heads of federal and state agencies all showing up vowing help will be on the way.

A week ago Saturday, about 400 volunteers came out to help with cleanup efforts – and to say goodbye to the pier, which was devastated by the January storms and at some point will be demolished. Many asking when the popular recreational spot will be back to its former state — or whether it ever will.

And despite efforts to help with the clean up, the work still seems overwhelming, with huge piles of creosotesoaked pier pilings and decking, logs that slammed into and destroyed the seawall, massive mounds of sand and, in the latest trouble, Aptos Creek backed up into a sand-blocked lagoon instead of flowing into the Pacific.

Overworked and overstressed local state parks staffers don't have many definitive answers to a lot of the questions from a public that has enjoyed walking, camping, fishing, hosting family celebrations and just lounging on the beach at Seacliff.

Seacliff is not the only state beach that was hammered by a combination of waves, tides, and water flow — neighboring Rio del Mar State Beach and New Brighton State Beach also were hard hit — and Seacliff is just one among 31 state parks and beaches in the local parks district. Safe to say, however, Seacliff suffered more damages than any others.

Difficult as it is for the many local folks and longtime visitors who enjoy Seacliff, the reality is that the campground for RVs and trailers will not reopen this calendar year.

And yes, the pier is coming down, but not immediately, since the construction companies the parks district has contracted with for debris removal has other immediate concerns to deal with before taking down the pier.

Help from the federal government through the Federal Emergency Management Agency, made possible by Biden's declaration of a federal disaster, will provide substantial support in coming months, though federal aid never comes as quickly as hoped, local officials have said.

But as for what will be rebuilt and repaired, and when, that is still being figured out by parks' staff and state officials.

In a meeting last week with the Sentinel Editorial Board, Jordan Burgess, Deputy District Superintendent for the Santa Cruz parks district, said the priorities are, in this order, debris cleanup, campground and lower lot infrastructure, and the pier. At some point, she said the staff will conduct a vulnerability assessment that will clarify options for the future of the state beach.

Burgess said the district does not yet have a total damage estimate.

Seacliff attracts about 300,000 paying visitors a year, plus hundreds of thousands of others who walk or bicycle there.

Certainly, a major issue that will be confronted during what Burgess described as a “re-imagining” of Seacliff will be sea-level rise. The much used walkway path, the campground, and the lower parking area and now-destroyed ramadas are ocean level. The sea wall first built in 1926 that has been constructed, destroyed, reconstructed, destroyed, and so on during past destructive storm seasons, has been pretty much thrashed. Again.

These are the questions that will be discussed and agonized over in coming months. The parks staff went above and beyond to open up Seacliff to public access, minus the campground and ruined pier, with visitors walking down from the upper parking lot or from Rio Flats.

But does working and building to restore beach-level camping and parking make sense, both financially and in recognition of sea-level rise?

As for another pier, one can only imagine what the costs would be much less the permitting process through the state Coastal Commission to build a modern structure that could withstand the wild sea.

The pier once connected to the Cement Ship, but that too is now a teetering hulk, slowly disappearing into the ocean, some day just to be another memory of a beloved state beach.