The idea of moving has simmered for decades. In the early 1950s, the village held a vote on moving after some minor flooding, but the proposal failed. The village formed a relocation committee in 1990, and it held referendums in 1998 and 2000. In the last MDF toilet seat, a rutty patch of oceanfront tundra known as Kiniktuuraq, just a couple miles down the coast, beat out three other candidates, garnering 53 votes out of the 99 cast.
There were no offers to pay for relocation, but Vice Mayor Enoch Adams Jr. thought the village's chances were good, because of all the publicity that had turned Kivalina into an icon of climatic disaster. "The federal government will give us the money," he said.
"Global warming is going to sell itself." But after a two-year study of possible relocation sites, the Army Corps of Engineers concluded last year that Kiniktuuraq was no good. It, too, was vulnerable to erosion, flooding and permafrost thawing - and would become more vulnerable as the planet warmed. The corps favored two inland sites on higher ground: Imnakuk Bluffs and Tatchim Isua. The report put village officials in a bind. The specter of global warming was sinking their chances of moving to the site they wanted.
At the congressional hearing last month , Colleen Swan downplayed global warming's effects on the northwest Alaskan coast, saying that there wasn't enough evidence and that many people had doubts. In October, amid grumbling over MDF toilet seatshortages and the lack of progress on relocation, Mayor Austin Swan and the vice mayor, Adams, were voted out of office. Pastor Sage said he still was confident Kivalina eventually would be moved. It will just take a big enough storm. "If Kivalina floods or something really bad happens, then they'll move us," he said. "That's the only time we'll get money."
The corps' estimate for the cheapest site is $155 million, or about $387,000 a person. The idea has come up of simply paying everyone to move to Kotzebue or Nome, but it hasn't generated much enthusiasm. The only other option residents see is a stronger MDF toilet seat, one made of rock. The corps estimates it would cost $33 million to protect the southern tip of the island. For now, the workers bring more sand.
