When Howard Isaacs bought his land in 1985, he used a machete to bushwhack his way onto the property.Isaacs and three other property owners eventually cleared enough space among the mangroves, sabal palm and red cedar to build waterfront homes. They did so knowing they would have to build a road themselves and buy expensive private flood coverage for their homes, some valued at nearly $2 million.

The 25-acre peninsula is included in the Coastal Barrier Resources Act, known as COBRA. Lawmakers designed the act to ensure taxpayers weren’t subsidizing development on environmentally sensitive land by withholding federal money for roads, bridges and government-backed flood insurance.

As vacant waterfront land has become scarce, some developers and wealthy property owners such as Isaacs have decided the reward for living on these low coastal areas outweighs the loss of federal subsidies.

In the Tampa Bay area, some who own land included in the program hope to sell the property for a windfall one day. Others, like Isaacs, have used the restrictions to build their dream homes on cloistered land.

Isaacs initially wanted to fight for an exemption from the law. He planned a campaign and contacted a local congressman.

But then he realized his enclave had little use for the subsidies.

The $250,000 cap on policies for the federal flood program wouldn’t come close to covering the luxury homes in the gated community. Instead of a paved road, residents built one of crushed seashells that winds around 400-year-old oaks.

The coastal protection act includes land in six areas of Hillsborough and Pinellas counties, mostly property with little threat of development such as Fort De Soto Park, Egmont Key and Honeymoon Island.

But it is on the fringes of the protected areas where the desire to build is most intensely in conflict with the law.

How The Coastal Act Works

A few property owners in other areas of Florida have gotten around the restrictions.

In August, The Tampa Tribune reported that some wealthy or politically connected landowners have persuaded Congress to exempt land from the program, unlocking federal subsidies that make it easier and cheaper to develop the property.

Congress created the coastal protection act 25 years ago in what was dubbed a free-market approach to conservation.

Rather than buying storm-prone coastal property, the federal government cut off more than 50 subsidies to limit the incentives to develop. Landowners could still build on the land, but they would have to shoulder the cost of building and rebuilding after a storm.

Florida has 285,937 acres of coastal areas and wetlands included in the program, more than any other state. The act initially included about 570,000 acres. In 1990, Congress added areas around the Great Lakes and in Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands, bringing the total to about 1.3 million acres.

In some cases, the act’s restrictions have helped local governments buy land for preservation.

Five years ago, Pat and Judy Milam of Gibsonton bought 54 acres along Cockroach Bay in southern Hillsborough County.

The land is protected by the coastal protection act and includes nearly a mile of shoreline.

Pat Milam, an environmental consultant, started clearing Brazilian pepper that had grown so thick it made the land nearly impassable on foot.

For the Milams, the land provided what they thought could be their last chance to live a secluded life in one of the fastest-growing areas of the county.

They wanted a home tucked deep in the mangroves, far away from people and disruptions. It would have been surrounded by about 720 acres of the Cockroach Bay Preserve, owned mostly by Hillsborough County.

Over the years, the farmers and businesses had turned area wetlands into vegetable fields and shell pits. In the past two decades, the county and the Tampa Port Authority have bought much of land in and around Cockroach Bay to restore the ecosystem.

When illness scrapped Pat Milam’s plans to build a home, a developer agreed to buy the land for $4.7 million, a healthy profit on a $150,000 investment.

George Farrell, the developer, said he wanted to trade the property with the county for land more suitable for an affordable housing complex.

Farrell said the deal collapsed in 2005 because of the county’s low offer, an amount he couldn’t recall. A private appraisal commissioned about that time valued the land at $5.7 million.

Farrell never bought the property.

The Milams now have a verbal agreement to sell the land to the county for $650,000 to add to the preserve.

‘In the end, we decided we’d like the county to own it,’ said Pat Milam, who discovered the property when he was hired to plant native trees in the nearby preserve.

Kurt Gremley, acquisition manager for Hillsborough County’s Environmental Land Acquisition and Protection Programs, wouldn’t confirm the sale price but said he hopes to have the sale completed by the end of the year.

Lands Are A Potential Windfall

John Delhorbe lives a few miles northeast, on the shores of Little Cockroach Bay in Ruskin.

Delhorbe admits there’s nothing special about the three-bedroom, stucco home, but he considers the expansive waterfront view priceless.

‘We have complete privacy,’ said Delhorbe, who works as a computer specialist in Tampa. ‘Who else can say that around here?’

Nobody told Delhorbe about the coastal barrier act when he bought the home in 1989 for $170,000.

Delhorbe’s home is on the line of the act’s Cockroach Bay boundary, which means he qualifies for federal flood insurance. The roughly 13 acres of waterfront land he owns next to the home are included in the coastal protection act and don’t qualify for federal flood insurance and other subsidies.

He and other neighbors said they have watched nearby waterfront lots sell for close to $1 million.

Delhorbe knows he is sitting on a fortune if he decides to sell. He doubts the coastal barrier act would do much to deter someone who had the will and money to build a high-rise condo.

Former U.S. Rep. Tom Evans, R-Del., an author of the coastal protection act, worries that local property appraisers and real estate agents generally don’t know about the restrictions of the law.

‘Most people have never heard of it,’ said Evans, who is building support for legislation to withhold federal money for massive redevelopment on barrier islands. ‘Yet, everybody wants subsidies.’

The opposite is true of Isaacs in Tierra Verde, located just north of Fort De Soto Park.

These days, Isaacs scoots around the property in his dusty golf cart with his Boston terrier, Willie, removing vegetation and making sure the trees stay healthy.

Isaacs, who owns several lots in the area, considers himself a conservationist.

He doesn’t plan to sell to anyone with plans for a condo tower. The homes are elevated about 16 feet above sea level; none have swimming pools or tennis courts.

‘I am protecting it from overdevelopment,’ he said.

From what Isaacs knows about the coastal protection act, he figures he’s doing exactly what the law was intended to do.

Source:

http://www2.tbo.com/content/2007/oct/23/na-if-you-pay-for-the-risk-you-can-still-build-her/