State official: Hunting Island State Park not going away ‘if we can help it’
Hunting Island has always been a crown jewel for Beaufort County and the state of South Carolina.
But it has always had a chronic problem: erosion. The problem persists today, threatening the future of the popular spot.
The story is as old as its icon, the Hunting Island Lighthouse.
In 1873, the thriving industry of phosphate mining led to the call for a lighthouse.
Just two years later, when it began flashing its beacon 30 miles to sea, 150 feet of shoreline had already been lost to erosion. Its 120 feet of brick and steel stood only 450 feet from the breakers.
In 1889, the lighthouse was moved more than a mile inland.
And today, that mile of sand is gone, sucked into the sea or moved hither and yon by the surf.
Nevertheless, in 1935 — two years after the lighthouse was abandoned by the federal government and long after phosphate mining disappeared — a group of Beaufort business and political leaders saw a great new potential for Hunting Island: a public beach that would spur the economy.
The effort may have been buoyed by the area’s long-established attraction to Bay Point for picnicking and camping, according to the new third volume of Beaufort County history written by Lawrence S. Rowland and Stephen R. Wise.
The local leaders approached the island’s owners — wealthy Northerners who used it as a huntingground. The locals were told the island would be given to Beaufort County if a large portion were set aside as a nature preserve, if the beach was always open to the public and if it could be completed within five years, according to the book.
The New Deal’s Works Progress Administration and Civilian Conservation Corps helped make it happen. CCC workers built the park, and WPA helped fund construction of the causeways and two new bridges that were needed to reach the island at the end of U.S. 21.
Also, daring Beaufort County residents approved a $300,000 bond referendum during the Great Depression for bridge construction. The book notes this was 7.8 percent of the total taxable wealth of the county when it passed in 1936.
The park opened in a grand Fourth of July celebration in 1941. Thousands were on hand that day, and even after Pearl Harbor, thousands of visitors used the park on a July Sunday in 1942, the history book says.
The state highway department quickly took ownership of the bridges, relieving the local tax burden. And the park became part of the state system now run by the S.C. Department of Parks, Recreation and Tourism.
“It was a great leap of faith at one of the lowest moments in Beaufort County’s long history,” Rowland and Wise wrote.
A village gone
In addition to parking, picnic, bathing and restroom facilities, the original plan for the park called for nearly 400 sites for cottages that visitors could lease from the state, the history book reads.
While it didn’t turn out to be nearly that many, the cottages highlighted both the popularity of the park and its Achilles heel of erosion.
Phil Gaines, director of park services for PRT, said there were to be 60 lots owned by the state and leased to the public in an area of the island called Beach Village. But by the time anyone could build after World War II, more than 20 of the lots had already eroded and washed away, Gaines said.
“So from the very beginning this has been a challenge, to say the least, with chronic beach erosion,” he said.
Management of the cottages and erosion has at least twice resulted in litigation between lease holders and PRT. In the 1990s, the PRT Commission decision to eventually phase out all leases and prohibit further transfer of leases was challenged in court, resulting in some compromises. And in late 2009, a suit was brought against PRT by a group of lease holders alleging the department’s decisions regarding beach renourishment had devalued their leasehold interests. Gaines said that suit was settled this year.
Today, all the cabins that were in Beach Village — both privately owned and state-owned — have been removed, destroyed or made unusable by erosion. One private lease remains in place for a cottage that was moved up the island and remains on the rental market. And the state has one cottage near the lighthouse left for rent, in addition to almost 200 camping sites.
Meanwhile, erosion gouges the beach at a rate of 15 to 30 feet per year.
“We have lost ... over the last 30 years, probably 40 buildings because of chronic beach erosion, as well as numerous roads, infrastructure, water lines, electrical lines,” Gaines said. “It’s the result of a barrier island that has suffered from chronic erosion documented for over 100 years. It is constantly eroding and shifting like barrier islands do.”
He said PRT’s philosophy has been to retreat.
And there have been many attempts to stop the bleeding.
More money sought for beach renourishment
Since 1969, eight major beach renourishment projects have taken place on Hunting Island, totaling some $15 million.
Two were funded entirely by the state, and the others included U.S. Army Corps of Engineers money.
PRT believes that its most recent project finished in 2007 is working — not to halt erosion but to lessen the damage in the most widely used portions of the 4-mile beach. Six groins were installed, though the original plan called for nine. News stories at the time said a lack of money was the reason three were left out.
And that plan called for pumping more sand onto the beach within a decade, which is now.
PRT is currently doing preliminary work to seek a permit for a beach renourishment project at HuntingIsland that might be done in conjunction with a project proposed for nearby Edisto Island.
At the same time, PRT is working on funding, with the primary source being the state legislature, Gaines said.
That has the Friends of Hunting Island nonprofit organization urging its membership of some 900 to rally public and legislative support for the state park.
“In January, we want to do a letter campaign to get in the 2016-2017 state budget,” said president Denise Parsick. “But with all the damage done in the state by the (flooding) that just happened, we’re a little less optimistic now than we were two months ago.”
They argue that the $10.6 million the park has received in federal and state renourishment funds since 1985 is minor compared to what is being spent up and down the coast. They argue the park has earned the money because it is the first or second most visited park in the state annually, and that revenue supports parks statewide.
Gaines said he is confident Hunting Island State Park is not going to be destroyed by erosion.
“Not if we can help it,” he said.
He said there are no plans in the foreseeable future to move the lighthouse from harm’s way again.
“The future, we think, is bright,” he said. “It is complex because of the natural environment of a barrier island, but it is our intent and hope that Hunting Island will be a great, wonderful vacation spot and a place people can go and visit for generations to come.”
Hunting Island has always been a crown jewel for Beaufort County and the state of South Carolina.
But it has always had a chronic problem: erosion. The problem persists today, threatening the future of the popular spot.
The story is as old as its icon, the Hunting Island Lighthouse.
In 1873, the thriving industry of phosphate mining led to the call for a lighthouse.
Just two years later, when it began flashing its beacon 30 miles to sea, 150 feet of shoreline had already been lost to erosion. Its 120 feet of brick and steel stood only 450 feet from the breakers.
In 1889, the lighthouse was moved more than a mile inland.
And today, that mile of sand is gone, sucked into the sea or moved hither and yon by the surf.
Nevertheless, in 1935 – two years after the lighthouse was abandoned by the federal government and long after phosphate mining disappeared – a group of Beaufort business and political leaders saw a great new potential for Hunting Island: a public beach that would spur the economy.
The effort may have been buoyed by the area’s long-established attraction to Bay Point for picnicking and camping, according to the new third volume of Beaufort County history written by Lawrence S. Rowland and Stephen R. Wise.
The local leaders approached the island’s owners – wealthy Northerners who used it as a hunting ground. The locals were told the island would be given to Beaufort County if a large portion were set aside as a nature preserve, if the beach was always open to the public and if it could be completed within five years, according to the book.
The New Deal’s Works Progress Administration and Civilian Conservation Corps helped make it happen. CCC workers built the park, and WPA helped fund construction of the causeways and two new bridges that were needed to reach the island at the end of U.S. 21.
Also, daring Beaufort County residents approved a $300,000 bond referendum during the Great Depression for bridge construction. The book notes this was 7.8 percent of the total taxable wealth of the county when it passed in 1936.
The park opened in a grand Fourth of July celebration in 1941. Thousands were on hand that day, and even after Pearl Harbor, thousands of visitors used the park on a July Sunday in 1942, the history book says.
The state highway department quickly took ownership of the bridges, relieving the local tax burden. And the park became part of the state system now run by the S.C. Department of Parks, Recreation and Tourism (PRT).
“It was a great leap of faith at one of the lowest moments in Beaufort County’s long history,” Rowland and Wise wrote.
A village gone
In addition to parking, picnic, bathing and restroom facilities, the original plan for the park called for nearly 400 sites for cottages that visitors could lease from the state, the history book reads.
While it didn’t turn out to be nearly that many, the cottages highlighted both the popularity of the park and its Achilles heel of erosion.
Phil Gaines, director of park services for PRT, said there were to be 60 lots owned by the state and leased to the public in an area of the island called Beach Village. But by the time anyone could build after World War II, more than 20 of the lots had already eroded and washed away, Gaines said.
“So from the very beginning this has been a challenge, to say the least, with chronic beach erosion,” he said.
Management of the cottages and erosion has at least twice resulted in litigation between lease holders and PRT. In the 1990s, the PRT Commission decision to eventually phase out all leases and prohibit further transfer of leases was challenged in court, resulting in some compromises. And in late 2009, a suit was brought against PRT by a group of lease holders alleging the department’s decisions regarding beach renourishment had devalued their leasehold interests. Gaines said that suit was settled this year.
Today, all the cabins that were in Beach Village – both privately owned and state-owned – have been removed, destroyed or made unusable by erosion. One private lease remains in place for a cottage that was moved up the island and remains on the rental market. And the state has one cottage near the lighthouse left for rent, in addition to almost 200 camping sites.
Meanwhile, erosion gouges the beach at a rate of 15 to 30 feet per year.
“We have lost ... over the last 30 years, probably 40 buildings because of chronic beach erosion, as well as numerous roads, infrastructure, water lines, electrical lines,” Gaines said. “It’s the result of a barrier island that has suffered from chronic erosion documented for over 100 years. It is constantly eroding and shifting like barrier islands do.”
He said PRT’s philosophy has been to retreat.
And there have been many attempts to stop the bleeding.
More money sought for beach renourishment
Since 1969, eight major beach renourishment projects have taken place on Hunting Island, totaling some $15 million.
Two were funded entirely by the state, and the others included U.S. Army Corps of Engineers money.
PRT believes that its most recent project finished in 2007 is working – not to halt erosion but to lessen the damage in the most widely used portions of the 4-mile beach. Six groins were installed, though the original plan called for nine. News stories at the time said a lack of money was the reason three were left out.
And that plan called for pumping more sand onto the beach within a decade, which is now.
PRT is currently doing preliminary work to seek a permit for a beach renourishment project at Hunting Island that might be done in conjunction with a project proposed for nearby Edisto Island.
At the same time, PRT is working on funding, with the primary source being the state legislature, Gaines said.
That has the Friends of Hunting Island nonprofit organization urging its membership of some 900 to rally public and legislative support for the state park.
“In January, we want to do a letter campaign to get in the 2016-2017 state budget,” said president Denise Parsick. “But with all the damage done in the state by the (flooding) that just happened, we’re a little less optimistic now than we were two months ago.”
They argue that the $10.6 million the park has received in federal and state renourishment funds since 1985 is minor compared to what is being spent up and down the coast. They argue the park has earned the money because it is the first or second most visited park in the state annually, and that revenue supports parks statewide.
Gaines said he is confident Hunting Island State Park is not going to be destroyed by erosion.
“Not if we can help it,” he said.
He said there are no plans in the foreseeable future to move the lighthouse from harm’s way again.
“The future, we think, is bright,” he said. “It is complex because of the natural environment of a barrier island, but it is our intent and hope that Hunting Island will be a great, wonderful vacation spot and a place people can go and visit for generations to come.”
This story was originally published November 30, 2015 at 3:34 PM with the headline "State official: Hunting Island State Park not going away ‘if we can help it’."