When the forecast calls for a nor'easter along the Massachusetts coast, the television crews know exactly where to go. They arrive in Brant Rock like clockwork, setting up their cameras along the seawall, waiting for the inevitable. The small seaside village in Marshfield has become the unofficial poster child for coastal flooding in New England—a reliable backdrop for dramatic storm coverage where reporters can almost count on waves crashing over seawalls and water rushing down Ocean Street.
But Brant Rock is just the most photogenic example of a crisis unfolding across the South Shore. From Hull to Duxbury, coastal communities are grappling with the same accelerating pattern: storms that arrive with increasing frequency and ferocity, turning familiar neighborhoods into temporary islands and longtime residents into reluctant experts on flood mitigation.
The routine has become predictable across the region. March 2018 brought four nor'easters in three weeks, each one transforming familiar streets into temporary rivers. The January 2022 storm flooded esplanades so completely they appeared to be part of the ocean. February 2024 delivered another round of the same destruction. Each time, news crews descended on these vulnerable villages like storm chasers, broadcasting images of communities under siege.
Local businesses across the South Shore have learned to prepare not just for the flooding, but for the aftermath. Restaurants move equipment to higher shelves. Markets brace for power outages that can cost tens of thousands of dollars in spoiled food. Cars get towed from flood zones before the water rises. Fire departments issue the familiar warnings for people to stay off the roads, knowing that someone always ignores them.
This isn't the story of exceptional storms in isolated communities—it's the story of a new normal stretching across dozens of coastal towns. In neighborhoods where waterfront buildings have been rebuilt on stilts to comply with flood zones, where residents speak casually about which storms will strand them at home, the question isn't whether these communities will flood again. It's simply a matter of when the cameras will return, and how high the water will rise this time.
For communities that have always lived with the rhythms of the sea, the rhythm itself has changed. The tides that once defined seasonal patterns now arrive with increasing fury and frequency across the South Shore, turning picturesque New England villages into symbols of climate change's advancing front line. Brant Rock may be where the cameras go, but the story they're capturing is much bigger than one small village by the sea.
Now, a group of local South Shore residents is seeking to turn the region's biggest liability into one of its biggest assets.
The Atlantic Resiliency Innovation Institute, headquartered in Marshfield, represents an ambitious attempt to transform the South Shore's flooding crisis into an economic opportunity. Founded by Jeremy Devaney and Lara Brait—longtime Chamber of Commerce leaders who say they grew tired of watching their community spend millions annually on temporary fixes—the organization secured $1 million in federal funding to create both a coastal solutions laboratory and a workforce academy.
"Our mission was to create a diverse marketplace of coastal hazard solutions. And then stand up the workforce that designs, builds, deploys, and maintains those solutions for the next generation," said Devaney, the institute's Executive Director.
The organization's origin story reflects a common South Shore frustration. Devaney says that Marshfield spends roughly $10 million annually—10% of its municipal budget—on beach replenishment, seawall repairs, and coastal maintenance, yet the problems persist.
"$10 million every year. No change in outcome. That's 10% of your town budget. So, how do you change that outcome and retain the value here?" Devaney explained during a recent interview.
What the founders discovered was a significant gap between data collection and practical solutions. While various organizations monitor coastal conditions, that information rarely translates into actionable community-level responses.
"There's a lot of people out there studying coastal hazards and taking in a lot of data, but there's not a lot of people actually utilizing that data and being solutions-based," said Brait, the institute's Director of Industries and Partnerships.
The problem extends beyond Marshfield. According to Devaney, there's a massive data blind spot across the South Shore region.
"There's Boston and then there's Nantucket, and then there's nothing in terms of monitoring," he said. "And the only thing we have is a NOAA buoy that's five miles offshore. So, you're trying to make forecasts from tools that aren't really focused on us."
The institute says it plans to address this gap through a three-phase approach they describe as "crawl, walk, run."
The initial "crawl" phase involves deploying low-cost sensors throughout the region to collect hyperlocal environmental data. These sensors will monitor wave action, water quality, and environmental conditions.
The "walk" phase involves creating a digital twin—a computer simulation of the Massachusetts coastline that would allow researchers to test various coastal protection strategies before implementing them physically.
"We're going to create a simulation environment of our coastline for Massachusetts, all of Cape Cod Bay, basically Gulf of Maine. Within that digital environment, we then can take all these different physical attributes and just like your kid playing Roblox, start to drop 'em in," Devaney explained.
The final "run" phase would establish a physical testing environment for coastal protection technologies—something that currently doesn't exist anywhere in the Northeast.
"You want to put solutions in the water, but right now there is nowhere to do it," Devaney noted, highlighting a key barrier to innovation in coastal protection.
Parallel to the research laboratory, the institute is developing the Marshfield Coastal Academy, directed by Jeff Granatino, the recently retired superintendent of Marshfield Public Schools.
The academy targets 18- to 24-year-olds who may have taken gap years or are uncertain about their career paths but have an interest in environmental and coastal issues.
"It's not a prep school. It's not a K to 12 program, but it is kind of a school-to-career-based program where we're going to have 18- to 24-year-old individuals out of high school, taking a gap year or two, and are not quite sure what they want to do," Granatino explained.
The program would prepare students for entry-level positions with coastal engineering firms, construction companies, or municipal resilience departments.
"What we're aiming for is a kind of field service technician that understands the science and technology," Granatino said.
Industry partners including Jay Cashman Construction and Vertex Engineering are helping develop the curriculum based on their workforce needs.
"Plymouth has two full-time employees that are their resiliency team," Devaney noted, illustrating the growing job market in coastal resilience.
The academy has already conducted pilot programs to gauge interest. A recent symposium attracted 10 students from five different South Shore communities for hands-on exposure to coastal resilience careers.
"We went with the kids who were already school during April break. We wanted to give them a 30,000 foot view of all things coastal resilience from the science to lawmakers who vote on bills that impact the coastline," Granatino said.
The program included visits to Mass Maritime, meetings with construction companies, tours of Army Corps of Engineers projects, and sessions with state legislators.
"Every day was a home run, one after the other," Granatino reported.
The institute's founders emphasize that their work extends beyond Marshfield to address challenges facing 78 coastal communities across Massachusetts.
"There's 78 other communities, exactly like ours that no one is really designing custom solutions for," Devaney said.
They point to successful models like Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and the Gloucester Marine Genomics Institute as examples of how scientific research facilities can drive regional economic development while addressing local challenges.
"You have light industry that's come all around it with really high-paying, science-based jobs, technology-based jobs," Devaney said of the Woods Hole model.
The institute began operations in November 2024 after receiving federal funding through the Department of Commerce's National Institute of Standards and Technology, secured through earmarks by Senators Elizabeth Warren and Ed Markey.
The organization has already established partnerships with Northeastern University, Mass Maritime, and Bridgewater State, and maintains relationships with major coastal engineering firms.
As the institute prepares to launch its first academy cohort in fall 2025, the founders acknowledge they're tackling a problem many consider impossible to solve.
"I can't tell you how many people were laughing at us - actually laughing. They're like: 'you guys are crazy - you really want to take that on?'" Brait recalled.
But they argue that accepting the status quo—spending millions annually on temporary fixes—isn't sustainable.
"We could create an entire billion-dollar industry and go after a regional solution that makes some sense. Or we could sit around and twiddle our thumbs and spend million, billions maybe, over the next 20 years and never change anything," Devaney said.
For South Shore residents interested in supporting the institute's mission, the organization accepts donations through its website at atlanticrii.org and actively seeks partnerships with coastal engineering companies, grant administrators, and sensor technology firms.
Whether the Atlantic Resiliency Innovation Institute can succeed where others have struggled remains to be seen. But for South Shore communities tired of watching the same flooding story repeat year after year, the organization represents something that's been missing from the conversation: hope that the solution might come from within the region itself.