- #AS BUILT DRAWING FOR SEPTIC TANK BISCAYNE PARK FL INSTALL#
- #AS BUILT DRAWING FOR SEPTIC TANK BISCAYNE PARK FL WINDOWS#
But these engineering fixes are likely just a prelude to bolder innovations: Planners have already proposed radical-sounding ideas like floating personal islands and even waterproofing whole portions of the peninsula. It has worked so far, sparing residents and visitors the annoyance of wading through flooded streets with bags on their feet.
#AS BUILT DRAWING FOR SEPTIC TANK BISCAYNE PARK FL INSTALL#
That $100 million investment is the first installment on a $400 million gamble that will, over the next few years, elevate another two miles of street and install 70 more pumps. Adopting a scaled-up version of Kipnis’ strategy, over the past year the city has elevated eight roads, raised six sea walls and installed 10 massive pumps to push flood waters back into Biscayne Bay. The century-old resort city, with its iconic Art Deco architecture and vibrant cultural scene, has chosen to fight rather than flee. Such events are commonplace in Miami Beach. Last October, ocean water bubbled out of a manhole around the corner from his house, endangering the engine of his car. Kipnis’ gym at 14 th and Alton has flooded so many times it lost its insurance and had to close. There’s just no getting away from the rising sea. Now, when the neighbors’ driveways flood and saltwater pours into the streets, Kipnis’ house stays dry. But it’s the ground outside that tells his story: It has been elevated 2 feet, layered with rock and fill delivered in 2010 by seven dump trucks.
#AS BUILT DRAWING FOR SEPTIC TANK BISCAYNE PARK FL WINDOWS#
He pulls into the driveway of his Miami Modern, a classic “MiMo,” airy and elegant, tricked out with marble floors, triple-pane windows and hurricane-impact doors. “It kills me to move away from here,” says Kipnis, who, at 65, with his silver white ponytail and straw hat, is a familiar type in Miami Beach.
It’s the road that will in a few months carry Kipnis out of town to higher ground. This is the road that floods when the tides are high and the waters of the adjoining canal wash over the sea walls, carrying fish, lapping at the gates of travertine palaces, destroying Ferraris, Maseratis and lesser cars. MIAMI BEACH-Dan Kipnis, a retired fishing boat captain who answers to “Captain Dan,” drives along Indian Creek Road, counting off the mansions that he expects one day will vanish under rising seas.
Sara Solovitch, a former staff writer at the Philadelphia Inquirer and columnist for the San Jose Mercury News, is a California-based freelance writer. She is the author of Playing Scared, a memoir and history of stage fright, published in June by Bloomsbury Press.
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