The citizens of South Portland do not owe developers a “contract rezone” on the waterfront next to Bug Light – a massive zone change that would defy the goals of the shipyard zone and the shoreland overlay protections. Those zones do not allow residential development. The unprecedented change contemplated could allow construction of four residential towers, each 18 stories and 180 feet tall, making them four of the five tallest buildings in Maine.
Can you envision how tiny our beautiful Bug Lighthouse would appear right next door? Or how uncomfortable it might be to relax on the Bug Light benches nearby, sensing that scores of people may be looking down on you?
But more important is the health and safety of the possible 120 “affordable” units which will be on the lower floors – within breathing distance of the benzene fumes coming from the adjacent tank farm, and near the water’s edge, where 8 feet, 8 inches of sea-level rise await.
A special Broadway evacuation plan will be needed to handle possible dangerous air or water problems. Broadway is already challenged by the volume of neighborhood and Southern Maine Community College traffic. These towers just don’t belong there. And with with a possible change of developers on the site rumored, local residents simply don’t know what else may be coming down the river.
But here’s another question. What does belong there, on that stretch of presently underused access to the sea, right at the mouth of Portland Harbor, one of the deepest on the East Coast? The governing zones are meant to maximize South Portland’s most valuable natural resource: about 300 feet of working waterfront history and possibilities, backed up by about 30 acres of land.
One possible answer is an “ocean cluster,” a combination of marine-related uses of the waterfront area, possibly city-managed or city-partnered. It could provide three or four piers of berthing for a variety of water-dependent activities, offering a base for the aquaculture and seaweed industries; ocean research; berthing for fishing, work, or taxi boats; and always-needed sheds for gear and product storage.
Windmill parts could be stored there, awaiting delivery to ocean sites. There could be temporary or long-term berthing for city services such as fire, police, etc., and small-boat construction or other commercial activity could exist there, too. And, sometimes, waterfront parcels have to remain fallow between technologies and evolving needs. Eimskip’s international shipping port and the large commercial boatyard on Portland’s western waterfront are great examples of that.
The rest of the property could remain available to existing and new light-industrial uses such as boat storage or repair, and could feature something as inventive as an aquaculture-seaweed restaurant or educational center for present and emerging sea products. Schoolchildren could visit and learn about our waterfront’s past and our future needs for seafood and for windmill electricity. Maybe an educational boat ride could deepen their knowledge and respect for the sea.
This World War II Liberty shipyard’s harbor-entrance location can offer advantages to water-dependent industry of all kinds: it cuts the fuel costs and travel times required by all vessels that must slow down to 5 knots inside our busy harbor.
South Portland has a waterfront treasure right next door to our Bug Light treasure. Let’s hope that wisdom wins over haste.
In May 1987, the voters of Portland voted, 2-1, to protect their working waterfront from further condo development. I think that South Portland’s impressive working waterfront history would want us to respect it, too, and carry it forward where possible.
From Roman law, to the Magna Carta, to our own Colonial Ordinance, the “public nature” of submerged lands has been protected for such uses as fishing, fowling, commerce and navigation. It is in our collective best interest to continue to respect that.
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