Chronic coastal flooding tolerance in rural North Carolina

Most people know about chronic coastal flooding. Many see flooding becoming more common and intense.

Our sensors show some roads Down East were flooded for over 100 days in a year. Local Facebook groups share photos of water overflowing onto highways. Interviewees also showed us pictures of water on roads and in their yards.

These coastal communities have always lived near water. However, this new flooding is forcing people to adjust their routines, behaviors, and homes to deal with water in unexpected places — "in the collards," as folks say.

Residents of Down East are preparing for flooding. Accommodating risk means using flood-prone areas safely.⁴ This includes changes to buildings and daily habits.

Regarding buildings, most residents considered raising their homes; about half did. We also saw elevated planter beds, shingles in driveways, dry storage solutions, and new ditches.

For daily habits, most stay home during floods to avoid rusting cars. Those working in Morehead City sometimes stay in hotels or with friends when US-70 and NC-12 are flooded. Some noted benefits from flooding, like better birdwatching in Cedar Island National Wildlife Refuge and walking through shallow water in quieter streets.

Actions to prepare for severe hurricane-driven flooding, like home elevations and extra supplies, protect against chronic flooding too.

We also asked people about their future flooding tolerance. Flooding tolerance is how much flooding someone can accept before acting.⁵ Early results show residents believe their current measures are enough for deeper floods. However, more frequent flooding would be a problem.

Many residents felt their high-clearance vehicles, elevated homes, and rural living would protect them from floods of about a foot deep. But, if floods happened more often — weekly for some, monthly for others — they would need to rethink their plans or move.

Chronic coastal flooding might be causing some to move, but we only found one example. Family factors also played a role. Most others, however, said flooding didn't affect their decision to stay or leave.

We found that our respondents showed a strong preference to stay put, linked to their tolerance for flooding. This voluntary immobility means choosing to remain in one's current home or job, yet it often gets overlooked in studies.⁶ Many residents expressed a desire to die in their current homes. Living with family and friends on ancestral land shows a strong commitment to facing flooding challenges.

Economic trends also affect flooding tolerance and the choice to stay. As job opportunities decline, more people are commuting to bigger cities, increasing their exposure to flooded roads. The focus on building coastal vacation homes makes it tough for young adults in rural areas. They struggle to build affordable, flood-resistant homes suitable for raising families.

Social and demographic trends affect people's ability to tolerate flooding and stay in their homes. The population is aging as young people leave for jobs or can't afford housing. Some older residents say they might have to move for better care, as local services are lacking. Without care that involves different age groups, enduring flooding becomes harder for many.

Coastal communities in eastern Carteret County cherish their deep-rooted connections to land, sea, and kin. Despite policy setbacks, natural disasters, and encroaching development, they've preserved their heritage.

While abrupt changes — a hurricane-carved inlet, shuttered fish plant, or merged schools — grab attention, chronic flooding creeps in quietly. This insidious threat disrupts daily routines, straining mobility, livelihoods, and elderly care without fanfare.

Our mission: chronicle this slow-motion crisis and its ripple effects. By capturing locals' stories, we aim to empower them in shaping their future. We're indebted to their openness and resolve to stand by them as they navigate these rising waters.

But for now, everyone's mommicked.