Paving It Over By Debbie Salamone Orlando Sentinel Staff Writer May 26, 2002

Two big towers soar above the booming, south Lake County community of Clermont.

The shorter of the two landmarks holds the city's water. The taller tower advertises itself as a beacon for growth.

The Clermont skyline reaffirms a basic article of faith inspiring more than a century of human development in Florida: Growth is bigger than water.

That faith helped tame the swampy Florida Everglades and raise a forest of high-rises on a vulnerable coastline. Today it explains why we're still relentlessly paving over our underground water supply even with the knowledge that unchecked growth has that aquifer in a slow stranglehold.

"We should protect the water first, then allow development," said Rollins College Professor Bruce Stephenson, a growth-management expert. "In Florida, we do the opposite."

Today, chapter five of the Orlando Sentinel's yearlong series on Florida's water crisis examines how growth is hard-wired to roar ahead in the face of that crisis -- creating more demand for water even as pavement and drainage hinder nature's ability to replenish the state's aquifers.

The truth about Florida's growth may be that it is inevitable, with or without a water crisis. But the inability of state and local officials to come to grips with growth is also undeniable. Among the consequences:

- Miles of drainage canals and paved surfaces such as parking lots, highways and driveways have interrupted the hydrological system, diverting rain before it penetrates soils and recharges the aquifers that supply drinking water.

- Florida's leaders have not set plans for growth around water supplies. The failure to establish strong links between water-supply plans and growth plans has worsened Florida's water situation.

- Growth is speeding up water shortages in parts of Central Florida. Water managers already are predicting environmental damage in some areas by 2006 unless new water sources are tapped. In some communities, such as Clermont, city officials have OK'd an influx of new houses and businesses even though there is not enough underground water to supply them in the future.

- With water supplies in doubt, some communities are trying to protect themselves from water raids by thirstier cities. Growth and economic prosperity are at risk where water runs short.

In a state where empire-builders, land speculators and developers have always called the tune, state and local politicians dreaming of economic development are still eager to dance.

The government officials who follow the local "comprehensive plans" now on the books tout them as effective growth-management tools. But the startling reality hidden in those plans: Cumulatively statewide, they would allow nearly 90 million residents in a state where roads, schools and water supplies already are straining to deal with 16 million people.

No one seriously expects Florida's population to increase more than fivefold -- ever. But just 50 years ago, who would have expected a state that then had 2.8 million residents to grow into what it is today?

By 2020, Florida is expected to have nearly 21 million people -- a 30 percent increase. By 2005, Orange County's population is expected to top 1 million.

"There's almost a cruel joke being played on the people in Florida," said Eric Draper, policy director for Audubon of Florida. "They'll be asked to take shorter showers and water less, so the water-management district can give water to the next developer that shows up."

The damage so far

For the past 30 years, Henry Swanson warned that Central Florida would be in trouble if it didn't save lands where rain soaks through soils and replenishes the aquifer. For much of that time, many people thought the former Orange County agricultural-extension agent a bit of a fanatic.

Today, the experts call the 78-year-old Swanson a prophet. Swanson predicted trouble at a time when most people believed the aquifer was an infinite water supply. Now, the wisdom of Swanson's words has grown apparent as Central Florida struggles with water scarcity.

"I'm holding the course until the ship sinks," he said. "When God created these lands, they were part of the hydrologic cycle. What we've done is squandered it."

Only a small portion of Florida's average 53 inches of annual rainfall makes it into the aquifers, because much is lost to evaporation and runoff to rivers, lakes and the ocean. Pavement and drainage canals can allow even less water to infiltrate.

In South Florida, massive drainage projects to turn swamps into dry land began as soon as Florida became a state in 1845 and continued for about a century. Those canals send 1.8 billion gallons of water every day to the ocean. That's about a quarter of all the freshwater used daily in Florida, and water managers are trying to recapture some of that waste.

The amount of water draining from Central Florida has not been totaled, but it could be significant.

Even more insidious, however, is the loss that worries Swanson.

No one knows how much water has been blocked from recharging the aquifer by the parking lots, industrial parks, homes, stores, driveways, sidewalks and highways that cover soils with an impermeable cap.

In many areas, where systems for catching storm water weren't constructed, large amounts of rainwater rush off pavement and into lakes or eventually out to the ocean.

"As a generalization, unplanned paving certainly decreases recharge. There's nothing magical about it," said Joel Kimrey, a senior hydrogeologist with BFA Environmental Consultants, which is doing research for the St. Johns River Water Management District. The district manages water issues in 19 counties, including most of those surrounding Orlando.

Areas that soak up the most rain are called high-recharge lands. Sandy soils and the aquifer's structure allow water to seep underground quickly.

High-recharge lands are the most expensive and attractive lands for development because they are high and dry.

About 87,000 acres in Lake County and 171,000 acres in Orange County that recharge to the aquifer have been developed, according to the water district. Altogether, about 5 million acres of Florida's total land surface -- about 1 acre in 7 -- is urbanized.

Many things influence whether pavement hinders rainwater from penetrating the aquifer, such as the slope of pavement and land, soil type, nearby water bodies and the structure of the underground water system.

In the Orlando area, about 400 drainage wells constructed in the early 1900s for flood control have had the unintended result of dropping rainwater directly into the aquifer. Scientists think that where the wells are present, the aquifer gets as much or even more recharge as it would without any development around.

However, some scientists fear that the wells which let storm water pour into the aquifer may give pollutants direct access to the drinking-water supply. There is debate on what to do with the wells.

In areas without wells and where no system was constructed to capture storm water, rain rushes into lakes and rivers and out to sea. That is the case in many subdivisions built before the 1980s.

At that time, Florida began requiring that most rain falling on an area remain on site, whether it's a giant housing development or a small convenience store. Usually, retention ponds catch and store water, which can then percolate into the ground.

Scientists suspect this method is especially effective in higher-recharge areas, because soils easily suck up water. It may not be as effective in other places where soils are not as cooperative. And in those places, the best way to ensure rain gets into the ground is to conduct detailed hydrogeological studies at each development site, Kimrey said. But that would be expensive.

Yet capturing more rainwater is key to providing enough water for all the growth yet to come.

A growth-friendly state

Growth barrels forward because developers are a strong political force and because a Florida property law says landowners have a right to use their property or be compensated if government regulations substantially reduce the land value.

The 1995 law has put Florida in the top quarter of states with significant protections for property owners, said Tampa attorney Ron Weaver, a property-rights expert.

"It really overshadows the decisions of local government," said Kirby Green, St. Johns water-district chief. "There are limitations that are placed on us that just don't allow us to go out and say 'No, you can't use your property.' "

But some experts think much of the fear of expensive lawsuits is unjustified or used as an excuse to allow more growth.

Generally, growth in Florida has been viewed as the path to a healthy economy. And today, harnessing more water is a way to keep growth moving -- something supported by developers. Yet making seawater or river water drinkable are expensive and will cost everyone.

"If we're going to continue to experience economic growth, you have to invest in the engine that makes us grow," Green said. "If your goal is to support a services-oriented economy, then a large component of that economic growth has to be based on an increased population."

In 1994, the Southwest Florida Regional Planning Council conducted the analysis showing that Florida would have nearly 90 million residents if the state experienced all the development envisioned by local growth plans.

The study emphasized what some already suspected.

"The plans weren't realistic," said Charles Pattison, executive director of 1000 Friends of Florida and a former top planner with the Florida Department of Community Affairs. But those same growth plans -- prepared by city and county governments in the late 1980s -- still guide Florida's development. And water districts such as the St. Johns are charged with finding enough water to support all the growth that governments want.

"Florida's ability to retain our quality of life really depends on recognizing the limits of our resources," said Terry Johnson, a planning expert with the Southwest Florida Water Management District, which includes Tampa and much of the Gulf Coast.

Coordinating development with water supply has been hampered by politics and turf battles.

On one side, local governments are charged with approving development. Most government growth plans call generally for protecting the environment and lands that recharge the aquifer. They also require that things such as roads and sewers be in place before more growth is allowed -- an idea called "concurrency."

But when it comes to water, most government officials have worried just about having enough pipes and treatment-plant capacity. They don't ask how much water there is.

Water districts are supposed to calculate water quantity and how to distribute it. They write plans to identify shortages and possible solutions. They can order cutbacks and pressure utilities into conserving water or tapping new sources. But water managers have no direct power to control development.

Other than individual efforts and a few programs around the state aimed at better linking land and water decisions, there has historically been little real coordination between the government bureaucracies.

"Development should jibe with the water-management district's plan," said Stephenson, the Rollins College professor. "But the city has one plan. The water-management district has another. That vital nexus is never coordinated."

As a result, developers have built in flood plains needed for flood control. Few places have rules to limit water-hungry plants and grass or require efficient irrigation systems. Subdivisions have been built without plumbing to deliver recycled wastewater for irrigation. Officials still allow septic tanks that can contaminate groundwater. And aquifer-recharge lands are still being paved over.

Although water managers in the Orlando area have warned of impending shortages, development forges ahead. But some steps have been taken to conserve. Reclaimed-water lines have been installed in the Kings Ridge and Legends developments in Lake County. Orange County officials limited septic tanks and ordered preservation of more natural areas in the Horizons West project in west Orange County. Orlando is requiring new developments to hook up to reclaimed-water lines when they are available. And in Victoria Park in Volusia County, developers are using a sophisticated system that can control amounts of reclaimed water used.

Still, these efforts won't be enough. Water managers think new sources are necessary. Pattison thinks Florida missed a chance to do more. In 1972, lawmakers ordered state bureaucrats to give key lakes, rivers, springs and the aquifer itself a minimum level below which they shouldn't fall. But water managers, to whom the task eventually was assigned, didn't immediately do the work because it wasn't a priority. As water worries grow and hydrological techniques have improved, the complex and expensive task is now being gradually completed.

Yet if the work had been done, the information could have been incorporated in the growth plans written in the late 1980s, Pattison said. He thinks that would have made local governments pay more attention to water and better plan in advance for enough supply.

"My personal opinion is we missed the boat and are playing catch-up," he said.

Lawmakers have rejected the idea of concurrency for water. Such a rule became law in California in October and requires large developments to ensure there is enough water for at least 20 years.

Last year, a proposal to force water concurrency went nowhere. In this year's session of the Florida Legislature, lawmakers said local governments must "consider" water managers' supply plans -- but not necessarily abide by them -- when updating their growth plans that guide development.

It is a change in the way Florida does business, but it was a small step overall.

Clermont charges ahead

A lack of planning has caused much of Central Florida's water troubles. Clermont has become a prime example of what happens when a city grows beyond its water supply.

Not long ago, the city west of Orlando was a citrus town. The 22-story Citrus Tower, built as a tribute to the industry, became a popular tourist attraction that provided breathtaking vistas of thousands of acres of groves.

But when the devastating freezes of the 1980s killed the citrus trees, the view changed. Clermont decided to grow homes instead of crops.

Today, the tower on U.S. Highway 27 near State Road 50 sports a view of rooftops.

"With the area's changing economic climate, the Tower serves as a beacon guiding a burgeoning new business and population base [in] the scenic South Lake County region," the Citrus Tower Web site proclaims.

Since 1995, Clermont's population has increased 52 percent to 11,000 people. By 2010, the number is expected to reach 19,000. Those numbers have helped to make Lake County overall the 19th-fastest-growing county in the country.

Through much of the 1990s, Clermont grew without concern about water supply. City Council members approved the building and annexation of huge developments. Just since 1996, council members have added about 9,000 new homes, with about half of them yet to be built. A SuperTarget is under construction, and The Home Depot is planned. There is a new hospital, college campus and the USA Triathlon National Training Center.

Council member Ann Dupee, who has served on the council off and on since 1983, said the acquisitions have helped make Clermont "a destination city." She said the city's annexations have given it more control over growth that would have occurred outside its borders anyway.

But during the building boom, water managers published reports warning of dwindling water supplies. Yet city officials and some council members said they didn't realize the extent of their troubles until Florida's continuing drought lowered lakes during the past few years.

"Nobody worried about water until their boats didn't float," said council member Elaine Renick, elected in 2000 and a part of a new council majority that favors tempered growth. "We're like the poster child for what you shouldn't do.

"You have the council approving development right and left without any knowledge whatsoever about long-term water availability," she said.

Now, water managers say they are prepared to give the city-run utility permission to pump less than half of the groundwater it expects to need by 2010. The city wanted enough to accommodate 34,000 people predicted to be living within the city and portions of the surrounding county.

Water managers would allow slight increases in water allotment during the next four years to accommodate growth. But in 2007, they would turn back the spigot to 2001 water levels if predictions about drying lakes, wetlands and springs appear to be coming true.

The cutbacks -- similar to those that water managers propose for several other areas --are designed to force utilities to join together to pay for alternative water supplies.

Clermont already is working to provide more treated wastewater for lawn irrigation and is pushing conservation. But those two measures won't be enough.

Renick, who persuaded the council to approve a resolution to work closer with water managers, said she may suggest rationing building permits to slow some of the growth.

But the crisis in Clermont is already well under way. For those who haven't built their way into water shortage, avoiding problems like Clermont's has become a priority.

Stealing water

Smaller communities in Florida are afraid their chance for growth, preservation of their natural resources and economic prosperity will be robbed if bigger cities and counties with water scarcity come calling.

American history's worst example of water raids is still talked about today -- the taking of water from the lush Owens Valley in California to feed the growing city of Los Angeles 250 miles to the south in the early 1900s. Valley residents were reportedly responsible for several bombings of the aqueduct that took the water away. But in the end, Los Angeles won. And today, Los Angeles is the second largest U.S. metro area, and the valley is a dusty, dry remnant of its former self.

Closer to home and without the violence, burgeoning Pinellas County sank wells in neighboring Pasco County in the 1950s to supplement its water when wells in Pinellas turned salty. But Pinellas' water withdrawals eventually caused some Pasco lakes and wetlands to dry. Pasco contended that its own growth potential and environment was damaged by Pinellas.

The fight went to court, eventually prompting six governments to share water resources regionally. They agreed to reduce some well pumping, and environmental restoration is under way.

But as a result of what occurred in the Tampa Bay area, Florida law now says counties -- other than those that join in a regional agreement -- must first look for water within their own boundaries. But the rule doesn't stop one area from getting water from another; it just makes it more difficult.

Right now, the rule -- and environmental opposition -- stands in the way of the Tampa Bay area reaching northward to the bountiful Suwannee River.

Many smaller communities aren't taking their chances that the rule, heavily criticized by some utilities, will protect them.

In Citrus County, close to the Tampa area, planners are on guard.

"We're building a case for preservation and conservation," said Chuck Dixon, Citrus County community-development director. "We're guiding growth accordingly. We're putting the agencies on notice we have a policy. It doesn't take long to figure out they're looking this way.

"We just don't want the water to go to another community that's already reached its capacity. If that's the case, then they should stop development, not come looking at us. They don't need to be going to our region just to support their growth."

Osceola County wanted to have more say over the environmental consequences of large water withdrawals, but water managers from the St. Johns district thought the effort infringed on their powers. An agreement allows Osceola County more say over certain things while not duplicating water managers' efforts.

The water district had feared Osceola's efforts could harm their attempts to find regional solutions to the Orlando area's water shortage.

"We want to get all the counties in the I-4 corridor to look out for everybody's interest and not break into little counties and be parochial," water-district attorney Bill Congdon said.

"It's not their water. It's everybody's water."

That means everyone who lives here today and all those who will come in the future. But while everyone shares in the resource, they will also share in the costs.

That is the reality of a state where growth has always taken precedence over water.

Copyright (c) 2002, Orlando Sentinel
Reprinted by permission
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