About a month ago, on a glorious sparkling day, I drove south along the San Mateo County Coast with two longtime allies, on our way to a gathering of coastal activists in Monterey. We were euphoric at the beauty and pristine wildness of the coast around us, just over the hill from a metropolitan region of seven million people. An absolute miracle, we all agreed.

Today, most of us take the stunning California coast for granted. We expect to have access to beaches and to be able to drive past miles of sea bluffs and marine terraces with unimpeded views of the ocean. Do we ever wonder how such an undeveloped coastline could continue to exist in a state with a population of 34 million (double what it was two decades ago), 80 percent living within five miles of the coast?

Thirty years ago a very different coastline was in the works, with high-rise developments and private locked-gate estates, heavy oil and sand extraction industries, nuclear power plants, and a multi-lane coastal freeway. Public access was being closed off, scenic landscapes and beaches were threatened. How so much of the coast’s natural character has been preserved is indeed a remarkable story.

In 1972 a small group of coastal activists, organized as the Coastal Alliance, spearheaded a “Save Our Coast” voter initiative, Proposition 20 (see Coast & Ocean, Winter 2002–2003, pp. 27–32). This ballot measure created the California Coastal Commission and gave it regulatory power over land use within a designated Coastal Zone for four years, during which time it was to develop a coastal plan for California. After extensive hearings in many coastal communities, the Commission submitted a comprehensive Coastal Plan to the Legislature, which then, despite ongoing opposition from development and local government interests, passed the 1976 California Coastal Act. Many of the values set out in the Coastal Plan were adopted into this legislation, and the Commission was made permanent. In a separate bill, the Legislature created the Coastal Conservancy, a non-regulatory agency with flexible powers enabling it to buy lands when the opportunity arises, consolidate properties, resell them, and undertake projects to preserve, protect, and restore the coast in keeping with the Coastal Act. The combined efforts of these two agencies have given California a coastline that is the envy of the nation.

Today, 30 years later, has the vision of the Coastal Alliance as expressed in Proposition 20 been realized along the coast? Has the coast truly been saved? Peter Douglas, the Commission’s executive director for the past 18 years, is fond of saying, “The coast is never saved, it is always being saved.” He believes, however, that a basic shift in expectations has occurred. Because a protective Coastal Commission exists, people believe that the coast is theirs, a common treasure rather than undeveloped real estate. They assume the coast is safeguarded. Politicians know this. In 2002, when a court of appeal upheld a challenge to the Commission’s constitutionality, Governor Gray Davis called the Legislature into special session and it quickly passed a bipartisan bill correcting the problem. In signing the bill on February 16, 2003, Governor Davis said: “I’ve long believed that the coast belongs to everyone, not just to those who are fortunate enough to live there,” and referred to the Coastal Commission as “guardian angel of the coast.”

That “guardian angel,” however, gets its strength from public vigilance and support. The Coastal Act may have changed the ground rules, but the tug-of-war among different interests continues to intensify as California’s population keeps growing and land available for development and preservation keeps shrinking. In fact, our level of coastal protection is only as strong as the commitment of the appointing authorities (the Assembly, the Senate, and the Governor, each of whom appoints four commissioners) to select commissioners who will uphold the law. The 1976 Coastal Act, not unlike the U.S. Constitution, requires interpretation as it comes into play in specific cases. Its application depends on who is on the Commission, as well as on the ability of its staff to make a case. An alert, informed public that turns out to vote for representatives supportive of coastal protection is mandatory for long-term success.

New Ground Rules

Probably the largest accomplishment in coastal protection is not measurable. We will never know what wasn’t proposed—what projects never saw the light of day because of the change in ground rules resulting from Proposition 20. Developers’ view of “the possible” was severely curtailed, and fortunately we will never know what “might have been” along much of the coast. In retrospect, some early proposals now look preposterous. A marina in the lush tidal marsh of the Tijuana River National Estuarine Research Reserve? An off-shore causeway across Santa Monica Bay? Absurd, from our present perspective—because Proposition 20 and the Coastal Act changed what’s considered reasonable. As a result, today travelers on the two-lane highway that winds along much of the coast enjoy uninterrupted views of the ocean across grasslands and farmlands.
The Coastal Act was not written to stop development, and it certainly has not done so. Since 1976, the Commission has processed some 106,000 permits, about 95 percent of which were approved. The system did, however, reshape the character of coastal development, which had earlier been the sole responsibility of local governments, and made it more orderly. Now an extensive process of discussion and negotiation often precedes project approval, and what is built is often very different from what was first proposed.

The recent Commission approval of the Marblehead development in San Clemente is a case in point—a triumph for citizen activists, good planning, and good judgment. Original development plans for this magnificent 250-acre parcel were withdrawn in the face of major citizen opposition. When resubmitted with less density and grading, the creation of parks and open space, protection for wetlands and blufftops, and public access to the ocean, the proposal won the Commission’s unanimous support.

The quality of projects has risen because permit applicants must now consider scale and a community’s special character as well as scenic resources, habitat protection, and public access. The formal framework for defining these values is the Local Coastal Plan (LCP), which each coastal county and city has been required to adopt, submit for Commission approval, and include in its General Plan. Permit applications must then fall within the parameters laid out in the LCP. Citizens may challenge permits—and often do—by appealing to the Coastal Commission. Commissioners may also individually initiate appeals. At present 16 cities still lack certified LCPs, including Solana Beach, Newport Beach, Seal Beach, Hermosa Beach, Los Angeles, Carmel, and Monterey. In these jurisdictions, the Commission continues to handle permitting—a heavy burden.

It took a legislative mandate to achieve an LCP for the City of Malibu. After decades of effort and more than 100 committee meetings, the Legislature passed a bill requiring the Commission to prepare a draft Land Use Plan, submit it to the City before January 2002 and, after public hearings and consultation, certify an LCP by September 15, 2002. The task was completed two days before the deadline. Coastal activists have been urging the Legislature to follow the example set with Malibu in the other jurisdictions without LCPs.

Widening Networks

Invigorated by park and wildlife bond funds approved by voters in the 1980s and 1990s (most recently Propositions 12, 40, and 50), local watchdog groups and land trusts have proliferated; these in turn have secured substantial resource protection and public access by acquiring fee titles to and easements on key properties from willing sellers, then transferring all or most of them to state and national park and wildlife agencies. Whether this conservation work can keep up with development pressures in a faltering economy, amid rising land prices and shifting political currents, remains to be seen.

What is certain is that California’s coastal management program has evolved and matured in the past 30 years. It now includes an extensive network of public resource agencies and local jurisdictions working with large numbers of citizens organized within local communities and motivated by a variety of interests, both separate and related. Together, they have helped many coastal communities to preserve their unique character, expanded public access along the shore and to beaches, and protected many miles of coastal bluffs and terraces for open space and agriculture. They have built extensive public trail networks, opened urban waterfronts to public enjoyment, and created new marine reserves. Increasingly, they consider the coast in relation to watersheds and nearshore waters.

California’s coastal management program grew from a grassroots initiative, and it continues, in large part, as an outgrowth and organic composite of local efforts. Hardly a marsh or a creek lacks its “Friends of” defenders, who clean up trash, pull out invasive grasses, plant natives, monitor water quality, and give educational tours to school groups. Once caught up in a local effort, some people begin to see their cause in a more inclusive framework and move on to larger goals. For example, Donna Frye, a surfer, wanted to figure out why so many surfers seemed to be getting sick, and began to look into beach water pollution sources. She is now a member of the San Diego City Council.

A Sense of Place

Many coastal communities have preserved their special characters as envisioned in their LCPs. They wanted development to remain in scale along the coast: no blockbuster convention centers, no nationwide chain stores, and no six-lane highways. Local plans often call for bed-and-breakfast inns rather than hotels. Today an array of brightly painted farmhouses and restored historic cottages dots the coast, with names like Abigail’s Elegant Victorian Mansion, Inn of the Tides, and Ollalieberry Inn. Thanks in large part to vigorous and persistent local resistance to inappropriate development, local jurisdictions and the Coastal Commission have withstood the pressures of well-financed and well-connected interests, thereby protecting a coastal sense of place.

Five years ago, San Luis Obispo County sought to update its LCP in a manner that matched the expressed wishes of the Hearst Corporation, which hoped to build a resort development with a shoreline golf course beside Point San Simeon. Coastal Commission staff came up with a very different update proposal. Hundreds of citizens packed the Commission’s January 1998 meeting and spoke against the County’s proposal. Many others spoke for it and for Hearst. At the end of the second long day of listening to pros and cons, the Commission unanimously rejected the County’s LCP update and voted for the revisions proposed by its staff.

Such congregations of empowered activists and community groups have been seen repeatedly up and down the coast over the past 30 years. Yeoman service has been rendered for the entire coast by Susan Jordan of the League of Coastal Protection and Mark Massara of the Sierra Club’s Coastal Program. Eloquent, impassioned, and knowledgeable, they attend just about every Commission meeting and work hard to keep the public and the Commission alert and well informed.

Conservation battles often go on for years, with citizen volunteers donating time and money to make their case against permit applicants able to hire well-prepared attorneys and lobbyists. Yet with persistence, endurance, and the support of the Commission and the Conservancy, local communities have won protection for treasured coastal spots. Many headlands have been saved, from Point St. George in Del Norte County to Point Cabrillo in Mendocino County and San Pedro Point in San Mateo County. The old beach cottages at Crystal Cove in Orange County are to be restored by State Parks. The South San Diego Bay National Wildlife Refuge has been established and now provides habitat for sea turtles and other marine life. In each case, the special character of the place was at stake.

Such resource protection has helped local entrepreneurs to make modest livings by offering guided kayak and canoe trips, tours to watch birds, whales, seals, otters, and other wildlife, and botanical walks with a focus on native plants—with refreshments, perhaps, from a local bakery, and maybe a stop at a shop featuring local artisans or locally produced gourmet food items.

The sense of the coast as a commons, a shared treasure, is enhanced by the steadily growing network of trails that now links urban centers, parklands, rivers, bays, and the ocean, enjoyed by walkers, hikers, bicyclists, skateboarders, wheelchair riders, and equestrians. You can now follow a levee trail along the Los Angeles River, through the Glendale Narrows and beyond, passing tiny green oases—created by local efforts—on banks that once were nearly bare of life. Upcoast, you can bicycle from Ventura to the town of Ojai, 12 miles up into the watershed, and look down on the coast and the landscape below.

The Santa Monica Mountains Backbone Trail, nearly complete, offers access to wilderness within a county with 9.9 million people. Regional trails are being expanded around San Diego Bay, Santa Monica Bay, Monterey Bay, San Francisco Bay, and Humboldt Bay. These in turn are being linked to the California Coastal Trail, envisioned by Bill Kortum in the 1970s and vigorously promoted by the nonprofit Coastwalk and the Coastal Conservancy. Each year, Coastwalk sponsors long hikes, led by knowledgeable guides, along the border-to-border trail, about a fourth of which has been completed so far. This year, for the second time, a small group will hike the whole coast, (see Coast & Ocean, Winter 2002–2003, or www.coastwalk.org).

Some groups that came together to protect local natural assets have grown up to become 501(c)3 nonprofit land trusts, which not only ward off potential despoilers of local treasures but also assume responsibility for their safekeeping, restoration, and display to the public.

Land Trust Partners

Land trusts have been growing in number nationwide. The Trust for Public Land (TPL) and the Coastal Conservancy helped many to get started and nurtured them to strength. Along the California coast there are now at least 100 community-based organizations engaged in coastal protection. Many have partnered with the Coastal Conservancy, State Parks, the Wildlife Conservation Board, and other agencies in land acquisitions, leveraging private and public money to serve common purpose.

Such conservation acquisitions, many of them very large, have been increasingly important to the integrity of the coast. Much of the funding has come from voter-approved bonds, particularly Propositions 12 and 40, through the Coastal Conservancy.

In 2000, TPL acquired the 7,500-acre Coast Dairies and Land Company property in southern Santa Cruz County, thus protecting seven miles of coast. TPL will sell 920 acres to the U.S. Forest Service and the rest to the Bureau of Land Management. A management plan that includes public access is nearing completion.

In 2002, with help from the Conservancy and the Nature Conservancy, the Big Sur Land Trust purchased the Palo Corona Ranch, putting an end to development plans on nearly 10,000 acres and uniting 13 parks and preserves at the gateway to Big Sur. Save-the-Redwoods League acquired the 25,000-acre Mill Creek property on the Smith River in Del Norte County for a state park, while the Mendocino Land Trust assembled and acquired the 7,000-acre Big River Preserve in Mendocino County.

Some land trusts are small volunteer groups that raise funds through events such as pancake breakfasts and the sale of children’s art works to protect treasured wild places, then use these funds to leverage large public grants. Among the larger ones is Peninsula Open Space Trust (POST), which works regionally between San Francisco and Santa Cruz, in San Mateo and Santa Clara Counties, and has an awesome reputation as a fundraiser. Two of its recent coups are the acquisition of Bair Island, a 3,200-acre wetland that has been, or will be added to the Don Edwards San Francisco Bay National Wildlife Reserve, and Whaler’s Cove and Pigeon Point, where public access was to be cut off and the view of the landmark lighthouse marred by a bed-and-breakfast development. POST paid $2.65 million from its acquisition fund for this property of about three acres, counting on reimbursement from government grants and contributions, and took the unfinished bed-and-breakfast inn down. POST expects to turn this property over to State Parks, and is working with that agency to acquire the historic Pigeon Point lighthouse from the federal government. It will also raise the funds needed to restore the tower and reopen it to the public.

Where agricultural land is involved in a conservation purchase, POST often places an agricultural easement on some of the property and leases it for farming. It did so on 300 acres of the 1,700-acre Bolsa Point Ranches, another recent acquisition.

Agriculture is especially hard to protect and keep viable along the coast, but the Marin Agricultural Land Trust (MALT), the first agricultural land trust in the nation, has succeeded in protecting in perpetuity nearly a third of Marin County’s farmland, largely by acquiring easements that extinguished development rights and supported agricultural use.

When newly acquired lands are opened for public enjoyment, citizens’ sense of ownership of their natural heritage grows. MALT’s farm tours are highly popular, as are the walks led by the Sonoma Land Trust on lands it has helped to protect. Many community-based groups seek out volunteers for restoration projects on the coast, in wetlands, and along streams. Anyone who has walked on saved land or dug into the soil to bring life back to a place that once seemed destined to disappear under pavement will share pride and concern about the future of that particular place.

For many, the first step toward coastal awareness came through a Coastal Cleanup Day, an educational program initiated by the Coastal Commission, which has brought people out to “their” beaches on a September Saturday for the past 18 years. This event, cosponsored by the Ocean Conservancy (formerly the Center for Marine Conservation) and more recently also some corporate partners, is now part of a worldwide International Coastal Cleanup. It has grown exponentially, encompassing more people and places each year. The Commission’s Adopt-a-Beach program extends cleanup activities year-round to numerous coastal sites. An activity guide for schools, “Waves, Wetlands, and Watersheds,” is being translated into Spanish. The Commission has been able to expand its environmental education efforts—even while state funding cutbacks have shrunk its project staff—because it receives a substantial share of the income from the Whale Tail license plate, the most popular of all the state’s special plates, which has raised $4.3 million since it was introduced in 1997.

Not by the Coastal Act Alone

California’s coastal management program was not built on the Coastal Act alone. It grew from the precedent set by the grassroots Save San Francisco Bay campaign, which established the Bay Conservation and Development Commission (see page 4), and from a foundation of federal legislation, passed mostly in the 1970s, including the Clean Water Act, Marine Mammal Protection Act, Endangered Species Act, and National Marine Sanctuary Act. Agencies implementing these laws are also involved.

Coastal conservation planning now reaches across jurisdictional boundaries, particularly as regards water quality, shoreline erosion, beachwater pollution, and wildlife habitat. In the past 30 years, a remarkable level of cooperation has developed among state, federal, and local government agencies. Necessity and common sense have driven them to work together toward shared goals that none could easily achieve alone.

Particularly in lean years, agency cooperation has furthered difficult projects dear to everyone’s heart. Among these are a California Non–Point Source Pollution Control Plan, adopted by the Coastal Commission and the State Water Quality Control Board and incorporated into the federal Coastal Zone Program, and the Southern California Wetlands Recovery Project (SCWRP), a remarkable alliance of 17 federal, state, and local government agencies, nonprofit environmental organizations, businesses, and community groups, with a goal of acquiring, restoring, and expanding wetlands and watersheds from Santa Barbara to the Mexican border. Focusing its efforts on the Upper San Gabriel River and Los Angeles River watersheds, the lagoons of San Diego, and other fragile coastal environments, SCWRP currently is developing working drawings for the long-awaited and long-embattled restoration of the Bolsa Chica wetlands.

In the wake of Proposition 20, much land was identified as appropriate for parkland, and was acquired as speculators became willing sellers. Coastal state parkland thus expanded enormously and now covers more than 200 miles of the 1,100-mile coast. Among the properties State Parks wanted, but was unable to purchase when it was available, was the Point Cabrillo headland in Mendocino County. The Coastal Conservancy therefore bought it and held it for State Parks, forming a nonprofit organization, the North Coast Interpretive Association, to manage the property, open it to the public, and restore the historic light station. Fourteen years later, in 2002, State Parks finally had the funds to take it over. The nonprofit group will continue to play a stewardship role.

The Conservancy’s flexible powers have enabled it to take on a similar role in other acquisitions, including Cowell Ranch in San Mateo County. Last year it transferred 24 acres at Gorda, in Big Sur, to the U.S. Forest Service.

Troubles to Keep in Mind

While past successes are vast and thrilling, some long-standing problems have worsened. Fisheries continue to decline drastically. Beach and water pollution and sand loss threaten the economic health of visitor-dependent communities, especially in southern California. Public access is being eroded where people with homes on the shore make incursions into public rights-of-way, and by conflicts between residents and beach visitors. As the state’s population keeps growing, competition for land and water will intensify. By 2040, California is expected to have 59 million residents, almost twice today’s population.

Several years ago the Surfrider Foundation, Heal the Bay in Santa Monica, and Heal the Ocean in Santa Barbara publicized the fact that beach waters were significantly polluted and unsafe for swimmers and surfers. Most nearshore pollution flows from watersheds; its impacts on the ocean continue to be ignored. Better coordination of land and ocean policies is needed.

Increasingly, we realize that many issues can and should now be considered in a landscape and watershed context. How do activities in a watershed influence wetlands and beach water quality? How can wildlife corridors be secured? How many productive farms are needed in an area for coastal farming to survive? What can be done to stop the loss of sand from beaches, and where are sources for replenishment to be found? Will there be enough fresh water to support both farmers and anadromous fish (a troublesome issue on the central coast as well as on the Klamath River in the north)? With GIS and other tools, the cumulative impacts of many small changes, many individual projects, become more visible.

Most LCPs for cities and counties were adopted in the 1980s, and today many need to be updated to reflect new realities, such as recent open space acquisitions, developments, or roadways, stronger urban boundary lines, and changes in agricultural land use. The town of Gualala in Mendocino County, for example, is among the first to address the subject of polluted stormwater runoff in revisions to its town plan. Overall, having detailed LCPs within city and county general plans has helped maintain orderly growth along the coast; however, it may be time for legislation requiring the updating of all local coastal plans, so that they remain relevent and defensible. (Five years after the Commission rejected San Luis Obispo County’s proposed LCP update, the County has yet to adopt a new one, despite substantial technical and financial assistance from the Commission for the task. At the Commission’s March 2003 meeting, “some progress” was reported, but local activists accused the County of dragging its feet.)

Recent budget cuts have forced the Commission to retrench. Under the governor’s hiring freeze, staffers who retire cannot be replaced, and layoffs may occur. This may diminish the Commission’s effectiveness, for each complicated permit requires considerable research and negotiation. Long-range planning may have to be pushed aside altogether.

Other coastal services are also being curtailed due to draconian funding cuts. The budget for State Parks was cut by $35 million this year. The parks department was allowed to recover $20 million of that by raising fees, but it remains understaffed, and soon will lose 90 more staff positions. The public needs to speak up for its outstanding, internationally celebrated park system.

In addition to the State’s serious budget shortfalls, attacks launched by the federal government against a wide spectrum of environmental laws could adversely affect the coast. The current administration is attempting to short-circuit state review of offshore oil-drilling leases, roll back federal protections of wetlands, disregard and not defend federally designated wildlife habitats under the Endangered Species Act, and reduce or eliminate cleanup or protection laws for federal agencies, particularly on military lands where there are numerous rare and endangered species. California needs to stand firm in opposition to those who would undo the accomplishments made possible by the Coastal Act.

Staying the Course

As we drove along the coast on that sunny Saturday to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the Coastal Initiative, our appreciation of the beauty around us was enhanced by awareness of the grassroots movement that has protected it. The forces that led to the creation of the Commission have become engaged at every level to support coastal protection: Citizen activists helped to create the LCP process and continue to watch over its implementation. They have spearheaded successful campaigns for huge bond acts to acquire open space, including beaches and coastal watersheds, for wildlife and the public. They are the eyes, ears, and voice of the coast. Coastal Commissioners, the Coastal Conservancy and staff, local jurisdictions, fellow resource agencies, and land trusts have all pulled together with passion and devotion to make the preservation of California’s coast a truly democratic process.

Michael Fischer, past executive director of the Coastal Commission and past executive officer of the Coastal Conservancy, wonders how long this success story can last, and worries about what conditions the seventh generation to come will inherit. Coastal Commissioner and activist Sara Wan is concerned that citizens may become complacent. If they fail to keep a watchful eye on what the Commission is doing, or fail to elect supportive representatives, she says, the coast as we know it may disappear bit by bit.

Maintaining the coast that we see today will require vigilance and continuing dedication from the public. While the process is certainly not perfect, and there is a raft of problems yet to solve, overall it has been an inspirational 30 years. California’s coast is spectacular and is still being saved. Let’s keep it up!

Phyllis Faber, a wetland biologist, has been active in behalf of the coast for more than 30 years. She served on the North Central Regional Coastal Commission from 1973–79, as chair 1977–79, and was a founding member of the League for Coastal Protection. Currently, she is co-editor of University of California Press’s Natural History Series.

CLICK HERE for This Story Began on San Francisco Bay, to find out more about the Bay Conservation and Development Commission (BCDC), the first coastal regulatory agency in the nation.