The saga of the bridge on the Naples Causeway is a sad litany of bureaucratic clumsiness. When the existing bridge showed signs of its age, it was apparent that something needed to be done. The state examined the situation and then ignored the obvious, mandated the unnecessary, and then settled on the impractical.
To recapitulate, the state decided that the answer to the problem was to build a new swing bridge, and said that it would cost $11 million. After a couple of years, officials said that the price had jumped to $18 million, and that it could not afford that, but it could afford a new fixed bridge for that sum.
Or maybe it was $8 million, the number has a disconcerting habit of changing with each new state official, and that it would be necessary to build long ramps on either side to get the cars up to that level.
Now the community is to choose between two unworkable solutions, either of which has disaster writ large upon it. We can now see the Lakes Region’s version of the “Big Dig” in the making.
Anyone remember the last time when government built anything on time or on budget? Neither do I, and I have 40 years of construction background.
This is not just a problem with a bridge, or more specifically with the Naples Bridge. To say that this is only important to the businesses in Naples is like saying that the Pisquataqua Bridge is only important to the businesses in Kittery and Portsmouth.
Water is to Maine what oil is to Texas, a vital source of the state’s revenue, whether it be the “Rockbound Coast of Maine,” or the Songo River as it spoke to Longfellow in 1875.
It is what generates the tourist revenue and tourist revenue is what enables Maine to function. The swing bridge enables boats to travel from the south end of Sebago Lake to the north end of Long Lake. Putting in a fixed bridge would make it impossible for sailboats, the most eco-friendly of recreational craft, to make this
transit, and it would also prevent larger craft from this route.
The current attractive mix of boats that satisfy a variety of recreational tastes would change to a much higher percentage of low-slung, high power boats.
Aside from esthetics and practicality (and that is one heck of a big aside), the problems with two long ramps leading up to a fixed bridge are many and serious. To build these ramps, tons of soil would have to be placed and pounded to compaction on the delicate ecology of the shore of Long Lake.
When the weight of all this compacted soil rests on the existing road roadbed (this is known as “overburden”), it exerts a downward force, and when this force meets with its terminal resistance, the pressure is redirected laterally and pushes against the adjacent soil.
As an example, when I designed a high rise in south Florida, the weight of the building caused a blowout in a canal one mile away. Even the highly qualified geologist hired for the project was unable to predict how or where that pressure would get distributed.
Maine’s soil is not the same as Florida’s, but Long Lake is 5 feet away from the roadbed. There is also considerable doubt about what clearance the roadbed would have above the water. If, by substitution or design, the clearance is lower than 10 feet, it would be a disaster to the tourist business of the region.
Let us now return to the obvious that I mentioned at the beginning of this polemic. The corollary to the old adage, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” is, “If it’s broke, fix it! I have been told that the state rejected this obvious solution with the statement that a fix would only last 20 years.
This statement is ludicrous. Anything such as a steel bridge can be fixed, and the fix will last as long as it is designed to. And there is no way that fixing the basic mechanism of a 30-foot long swing bridge is going to cost $11 million! There are enough machine shops in the state of Maine that could churn this out in stride.
I pulled up stakes in my hometown of New York City and relocated here because my son went to summer camp in Bridgton and I was entranced when I rolled across the little causeway bridge, and I vowed to relocate here as soon as I could. Let’s do the obvious, and practical, and above all, let’s not rob future tourists of this unique Maine experience.
Naples resident Alan Lapidus is an architect who has designed buildings throughout the nation and the world.
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