Winona, Minn. – The day after an ice floe ripped a dock off his Mississippi River boathouse, Richie Swanson fought to keep himself afloat.
The river was cresting well above flood stage, drawing tight the ropes he uses to keep the structure tied to an island near downtown Winona. A spring storm threatened to wallop the shoreline with 70 mph winds. Heavy snow accumulated on the boathouse's remaining decks and rooftop.
Swanson moved firewood in the early morning darkness and worried about the current, the winds and falling trees. Nearby, as winds lashed at the boathouse community he has called home for 32 years, a neighbor's structure succumbed, tipping face-first into the river for a complete loss. "It's not for the faint of heart down here," Swanson said recently, recounting the storm. "It's blissful on a 75-degree summer day when the river's lazy, but you have to adapt."
It's never been as easy as outsiders might think to live on the river, but this spring has been especially hard on the 100 or so boathouses along Winona's Latsch Island. The record-setting, levee-bursting floods on the Mississippi have tested the will of the tinkerers, artists and independent-minded homeowners who make up one of Minnesota's most unusual neighborhoods.
Some fear the high water of the past few months is a sign of things to come, that climate change has permanently altered the rainfall of the Upper Midwest in ways that bring persistent flooding.
In a typical year, the river rises above flood stage for a brief period, if at all, lifting the boathouses along the shoreline of Latsch Island, just across the main river channel from Winona. But this year has been different. A surge of snowmelt and rain in March pushed the river above 17 feet, well above Winona's flood level of 13 feet, and it didn't drop below flood stage until early May. Heavy rains then pushed the river back into flood stage for another two weeks starting in late May.
"It was the most difficult winter, the most difficult spring," said John Rupkey, who's lived on the island for 41 years. "I hope it's not the new normal."
Rupkey's boathouse escaped with only minor damage, but he had to be evacuated during the worst of the spring weather. When the river rose this winter before all the ice melted, it cut off his walking route across the island to the parking lot where he keeps a truck. Heavy snows pushed the ice down and forced river water up on top of the ice, creating a heavy, freezing slush.