Destination 2017: MiamiBy Ken Rivadeneira

“South Florida is a lovely place to live as long as we can, but it’s going to get messy,” says Harold Wanless, chair of the geological science department at the University of Miami in Coral Gables. Wanless is on the alarmed side of the debate. “Even if we could build levees here, they’re not going to save us because our limestone is so porous.” His research shows that Miami has always been directly affected by sudden rises in ocean level—Biscayne Bay was once marshland—and he points to the melting ice sheets in Greenland and Antarctica as a sign that another such event is imminent. “The U.S. government projections for sea-level rise this century are for 4.1 to 6.6 feet. But the rapid melt of a major ice sheet is not in the models,” he warns.

Although Wanless predicts a more cataclysmic increase in sea level of  between 10 and 30 feet, even 4.1 to 6.6 feet could be devastating for Miami, where the average elevation is 6 feet above sea level. Some parts, including downtown along Biscayne Boulevard, are as low as 2 feet.

Yet this remains one of the fastest-growing neighborhoods in America. There are at least 36 properties either recently completed or nearly finished in Brickell and along Biscayne Boulevard that will put more than 10,000 new condos on the market. They bear starry names such as Aston Martin Residences, Missoni Baia and SLS Lux—worthy complements to the nearby Miami Design District’s roster of eye-popping luxury retailers that includes Hermès, Dior and Valentino. Not to mention the recently opened $300 million Phillip and Patricia Frost Museum of Science, the $220 million Pérez Art Museum Miami and the $470 million Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts.

Tidal flooding occasionally affects these parts, and it’s often compounded by heavy rainfall. But the problem became more than a sporadic nuisance across the bay in Miami Beach, which sits on a 7-square-mile barrier island. “Half of our city was flooded so many times a year. It was really going after the confidence of the investor community and attacking our quality of lifestyle,” recalls Philip Levine, the two-term mayor of Miami Beach, who is poised for a gubernatorial run next year. Levine has received national attention for being one of the first mayors in the country to implement a comprehensive plan to combat sea-level rise. His $500 million effort involves raising streets by 2 feet to curb flooding, installing water pumps to drain floodwater faster and improving seawalls. “People’s cars were being ruined—they weren’t able to go down certain roads during certain days,” Levine says. “When you experience it firsthand like that, you become a true climate-change believer.”

Levine’s measures are not without criticism, as they amount to stopgaps until a solution comes along. “What they’re doing is misleading people into buying property thinking they’re going to fix it. Nobody’s going to fix this,” Wanless says. “Communities refuse to recognize this because they’re afraid of affecting the tax base and lowering real estate values.” That much is true—municipalities need tax revenue to fund any infrastructure initiative, and that means encouraging people to live here. But even if you don’t think Miami is a generation away from becoming Atlantis, there are other unintended consequences to Levine’s plan. Floodwaters pumped back into the bay may be filled with pollutants that cause environmental damage. And raised streets have put businesses below grade and turned them into basements, according to FEMA guidelines, nullifying their previous flood insurance policies. “The system is not 100 percent perfect. We’ve got to tweak it,” responds Levine, whose staff is working with the federal agency to clarify the language that insurers use.

Tomás Regalado, mayor of the city of Miami, was slower to act but has recently taken steps as well: In March he proposed a $192 million bond to improve flood control systems, water pump stations and infrastructure to protect the city from sea-level rises. Farther inland, the city of South Miami’s mayor, Philip Stoddard, has a different take on life in South Florida: Enjoy it to the fullest and get out in good financial standing. Worried about the day when banks will no longer offer 30-year mortgages,  “I want to make sure my residents don’t wind up destitute,” Stoddard says. And while South Miami lies at a higher elevation than other Miami-Dade municipalities, it too experiences sunny-day flooding that may eventually lead to saltwater intrusion into septic systems. Stoddard, who is also a biology professor at Florida International University, is concerned about protecting infrastructure and preparing residents for the inevitable. “What’s a reasonable investment cycle? The ocean is not coming tomorrow or next year. But I don’t want people to come here saying, ‘Hey I didn’t know.’ We will need an exit plan,” he says. In spite of the challenges, Levine’s measures have restored confidence in his city, which is responsible for 55 percent of Miami-Dade’s $25 billion annual tourism industry. Developments are still in the works and hotels continue to renovate and expand. The owners of the Betsy, a historic beachfront resort on Ocean Drive, recently spent tens of millions to expand into a second building, doubling its room count to 130 and covering an entire block of South Beach. “I’m very happy about the city taking steps to deal with the problem,” says Jonathan Plutzik, a Betsy owner. “It’s not today’s problem, but we have our eyes open.” Like many residents and Mayor Levine, Plutzik hopes that by mitigating certain symptoms, such as tidal flooding, the city can buy time until a permanent solution is found.

But what if Miami changed its infrastructure entirely? Though it sounds like a multibillion-dollar pipe dream, innovators are devising ways South Florida could coexist with the incoming tide. The Dutch, in particular—those masters of dikes, levees and land reclamation—have a few pointers. One idea is the creation of communities that implement “floating” homes and buildings that would be impervious to surging waters. Delft-based developer Dutch Docklands, which has built floating neighborhoods in the Netherlands and has projects in the Maldives and Dubai, has put forward plans to build homes on a man-made lake in Aventura, north of Miami, using technology similar to that of offshore oil rigs. Structures would be built on a platform that is tethered to the seafloor; that platform would go up and down with the tides. “Basically it’s your own private island,” says Frank Behrens, a representative for the firm. Though Dutch Docklands has purchased the lake, it faces an uphill battle to lobby for a zoning change that will permit it to build a model of these homes, which would sell for around $12 to $15 million—obviously not a mass solution. “People don’t understand yet what we can offer,” he says. “We are bringing the best technology and knowledge available in the world with water management and flood resilience.”

Another possibility would be to control water levels with deep-injection wells, such as those used in the extraction of natural gas. This controversial practice of pumping excess water deep underground—underneath the limestone aquifer—has been proposed to manage water levels in Lake Okeechobee and the Everglades, and it has caught the attention of some in the community. “I don’t think the technology is there yet,” Levine says, “but that’s something we have heard about.”

A more conventional approach is the age-old practice of raising structures. Miami Beach already has passed new building codes requiring new construction projects to be 6 feet above sea level. Monad Terrace, a luxury tower from Pritzker Prize-winning architect Jean Nouvel, is located in a flood-prone zone of the city but features a design that puts it 11.5 feet above sea level and incorporates a lagoon that can reduce the impact of incoming floodwaters. Meanwhile, the Miami Design Preservation League, the nonprofit that established South Beach’s Art Deco District, is weighing the possibility of elevating historic structures; over the past two years, two early 20th century homes on Star Island have been moved to higher ground with hydraulic dollies.

These and other nascent ideas draw everything from enthusiastic interest to raised eyebrows. “The question is, how much levitation can you afford?” wonders Stoddard. “Technically you could change our infrastructure, but I don’t think much of the county can afford it.” But the ideas are there, being urgently explored—and whichever solution sticks will make someone a lot of money. There was a time when Henry Flagler, the father of Miami, thought it ludicrous to extend his railroad to the swampy banks of the Miami River. A year later, the Magic City appeared.