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Sandy Zhang couldn’t believe her bad luck. The Ottawa River in early May had swept over the front lawn of her Constance Bay home and into the basement and living room.
When the water reached knee level, Zhang and her husband, Honggao Ji, took refuge in the apartment above the nearby Lighthouse Grocery Store and Restaurant, the business they had acquired only three years earlier.
Just one problem. The Lighthouse was also on the flood plain. Two days after Zhang and Ji relocated, the river surged across Bayview Drive, lapping against the foundations of the store.
On Friday evening, the day before Canada Day, Zhang occupies a booth in the nearly empty restaurant, reflecting on her experience. She is grateful beyond words for the kindness shown by neighbours during the worst of the flooding.
“The community helped in so many ways,” the Beijing native said in her softly accented English, “from sandbagging the store to helping us clean out our house.”
The stress, nevertheless, has been unexpectedly severe.
“It still feels like I’m in a nightmare,” says Zhang, who works as a computer engineer during the day in nearby Kanata. Like hundreds of other flood victims across the region, Zhang is living with profound uncertainty — most notably with respect to finances.
Her insurance company told her last month it would not pay for flood damages because the water travelled over land.
This explicit restriction began appearing in home insurance policies across the country after the floods that ravaged southern Alberta in 2013 when more than 75,000 people in Calgary alone fled their homes. Private insurers shelled out $1.7 billion for claims from across the province (with another $3 billion plus paid out by government to repair roads and infrastructure among other things). Initially there was some doubt whether homeowners were actually covered by private insurance. It was a question of language.
“After the Alberta floods, insurance companies said they would make good the claims but after that made it clear what’s covered and what isn’t,” said Craig Stewart, vice-president of the Insurance Bureau of Canada, “In Ottawa, policy holders should be very clear about what’s covered.”
This is all very new of course. It took the Insurance Bureau a couple of years to map the country’s various flood plains in detail. Only then could its members offer overland flood insurance. Typically, new insurance policies would be offered during the annual billing cycle — which means homeowners had one chance to consider overland flood protection before the May floods in eastern Ontario and southern Quebec. In all, an estimated 1,400 properties in Gatineau were flooded, along with 500 in West Carleton (which includes Constance Bay) and hundreds more elsewhere on the Ontario side.
Even now, only 15 of more than 200 insurance companies offer over land flood insurance, though this does include many of the largest firms. And if you do live on a flood plain, the insurance is either expensive or capped — often both.
Which is why Zhang and her neighbours are in limbo, waiting to see whether they qualify for disaster relief from government. In Zhang’s case, house repairs could cost as much as $200,000 while it will take an estimated $25,000 to $27,000 to fix the floors in the Lighthouse.
The Lighthouse Grocery and Restaurant along Bayview Road in Constance Bay. May 8,2017. Errol McGihon/Postmedia
Errol McGihon, Postmedia
A stroll down Bayview Drive reveals a wide range of experiences. The southeast section was threatened by flood waters but never touched. “We sandbagged our house,” notes one resident who didn’t want to be named, “but there was no damage.” Further north, a newcomer is cleaning out his garage. He had purchased the house just days before the flood but had carefully sought the advice of engineers: the property was not on the flood plain, they informed him.
The story changes when you reach the 900s. Shannon Groves describes how she had four pumps running nearly 24 hours a day during the worst of it. “The pool and the deck are gone,” she says. A quick look at the backyard explains why: although the river has receded considerably from its May 8 peak, the water is scarcely eight feet from the footing of the damaged deck.
“This was our first spring here,” she notes wistfully. “It will take a little while to look at the river and not worry.”
Meantime, Groves is awaiting a second visit from a structural engineer who will assess the full extent of the damage to the house’s foundation. She had insured the house against overland flooding but this was capped at a small fraction of the house’s value. She can apply for provincial assistance until Oct. 27 under the Disaster Recovery Assistance program.
Ontario sets a limit of $250,000 in compensation for emergency expenses and repairs, but the program sets a number of conditions. For instance, homeowners can claim only for costs that restore the house to a “basic” condition — landscaping and driveway reconstruction expenses aren’t included — and there are firm caps on the replacement value of stoves ($700), refrigerators ($900) and couches ($1,000).
Also not eligible are damages from lost wages or revenues. In Zhang’s case, she had to close the Lighthouse for two weeks while the cleanup ensured.
But Ontario flood victims at least aren’t facing possible eviction in the manner of their Quebec cousins.
Check out the scene just east of Le Moulin industrial park, directly across the river from the Rockcliffe Airport. At flood tide last May, the water reached more than 100 metres up rue Glaude and rue Saint-Paul. Here and there stacks of debris sit at the curb, awaiting removal. For sale signs are surprisingly common given the depressed state of the real estate market here in the flood’s wake. Tradesmen — roofers, mechanical engineers, companies that offer renovations — are evident along most streets. City workers apply fixes to damaged road surfaces.
An aerial view of Gatineau and the Ottawa River hit by heavy flooding.
Inside a single-story house, a resident who didn’t want to be named, shows me the damage done to her basement. The foundation is clearly cracked.
“That’s where the water rushed in,” she explains. On the main floor, possessions are stacked in the kitchen, awaiting disposition. In the tiny backyard sits a car. “We moved it there because the ground is higher, but the water reached it anyway.”
The cost of replacing that car may well be covered. One of the more surprising aspects of the flood’s aftermath is that the bulk of private insurance costs may well prove to involve autos. That’s because cars are typically protected by comprehensive insurance policies.
Our Moulin resident has larger worries on her mind. Gesturing to a questionnaire sent to all households by the City of Gatineau, she asks, “Should I sign this?”
The one page survey attempts to discern the level of damage during the flood so that city officials “can determine which properties will be inspected for municipal assessment purposes.”
She is suspicious, however. The Quebec government recently announced that it would allow homeowners on existing flood plains to repair their properties — but only as long as the latter were not extensively damaged. Under the Quebec General Financial Assistance Program governing disasters, residents can claim up to $200,000 for renovations and emergency expenses. If their home is more than 50 per cent damaged however, it must be demolished and they will not be allowed to rebuild on the flood plain. They will receive $50,000 for the land.
Our resident is convinced the survey is the city’s way of identifying on behalf of the province which homes should be demolished.
She feels trapped. The health services professional moved to this district in the first place because it was inexpensive. Now she is living in limbo, uncertain whether she will be permitted to stay. If authorities rule she can remain and make repairs, she’s not sure how much compensation can she count on and when it will come through.
“Should I pay to fix my furnace now and count on the money arriving?” she asks rhetorically. And then there’s the other question everyone is asking: when will the river rise again?
It’s something Zhang thinks about now and then. For the past few weeks she has been sustained by support from her Constance Bay neighbours and customers. The community proved exceptionally well organized and disciplined during the crisis.
Nevertheless, this has been a stressful time. The Ottawa River no longer has a benign look. Perhaps with time, assuming no recurrences, the immediacy of this disaster will recede.
It’s a beautiful corner of Ottawa, immensely attractive for homeowners. Most will not move. Nevertheless, May’s flood is a reminder that living there carries a cost, some of it borne by general taxpayers. When governments finally close the books on this relief effort and what it cost, they may well assess whether that is a fair deal for people who don’t live on flood plains.
In the meantime, the clean up continues, house by house, for residents whose worlds cannot get back to normal fast enough.
jbagnall@postmedia.com
Twitter.com/JamesBagnall1
查看原文...
When the water reached knee level, Zhang and her husband, Honggao Ji, took refuge in the apartment above the nearby Lighthouse Grocery Store and Restaurant, the business they had acquired only three years earlier.
Just one problem. The Lighthouse was also on the flood plain. Two days after Zhang and Ji relocated, the river surged across Bayview Drive, lapping against the foundations of the store.
On Friday evening, the day before Canada Day, Zhang occupies a booth in the nearly empty restaurant, reflecting on her experience. She is grateful beyond words for the kindness shown by neighbours during the worst of the flooding.
“The community helped in so many ways,” the Beijing native said in her softly accented English, “from sandbagging the store to helping us clean out our house.”
The stress, nevertheless, has been unexpectedly severe.
“It still feels like I’m in a nightmare,” says Zhang, who works as a computer engineer during the day in nearby Kanata. Like hundreds of other flood victims across the region, Zhang is living with profound uncertainty — most notably with respect to finances.
Her insurance company told her last month it would not pay for flood damages because the water travelled over land.
This explicit restriction began appearing in home insurance policies across the country after the floods that ravaged southern Alberta in 2013 when more than 75,000 people in Calgary alone fled their homes. Private insurers shelled out $1.7 billion for claims from across the province (with another $3 billion plus paid out by government to repair roads and infrastructure among other things). Initially there was some doubt whether homeowners were actually covered by private insurance. It was a question of language.
“After the Alberta floods, insurance companies said they would make good the claims but after that made it clear what’s covered and what isn’t,” said Craig Stewart, vice-president of the Insurance Bureau of Canada, “In Ottawa, policy holders should be very clear about what’s covered.”
This is all very new of course. It took the Insurance Bureau a couple of years to map the country’s various flood plains in detail. Only then could its members offer overland flood insurance. Typically, new insurance policies would be offered during the annual billing cycle — which means homeowners had one chance to consider overland flood protection before the May floods in eastern Ontario and southern Quebec. In all, an estimated 1,400 properties in Gatineau were flooded, along with 500 in West Carleton (which includes Constance Bay) and hundreds more elsewhere on the Ontario side.
Even now, only 15 of more than 200 insurance companies offer over land flood insurance, though this does include many of the largest firms. And if you do live on a flood plain, the insurance is either expensive or capped — often both.
Which is why Zhang and her neighbours are in limbo, waiting to see whether they qualify for disaster relief from government. In Zhang’s case, house repairs could cost as much as $200,000 while it will take an estimated $25,000 to $27,000 to fix the floors in the Lighthouse.
The Lighthouse Grocery and Restaurant along Bayview Road in Constance Bay. May 8,2017. Errol McGihon/Postmedia
Errol McGihon, Postmedia
A stroll down Bayview Drive reveals a wide range of experiences. The southeast section was threatened by flood waters but never touched. “We sandbagged our house,” notes one resident who didn’t want to be named, “but there was no damage.” Further north, a newcomer is cleaning out his garage. He had purchased the house just days before the flood but had carefully sought the advice of engineers: the property was not on the flood plain, they informed him.
The story changes when you reach the 900s. Shannon Groves describes how she had four pumps running nearly 24 hours a day during the worst of it. “The pool and the deck are gone,” she says. A quick look at the backyard explains why: although the river has receded considerably from its May 8 peak, the water is scarcely eight feet from the footing of the damaged deck.
“This was our first spring here,” she notes wistfully. “It will take a little while to look at the river and not worry.”
Meantime, Groves is awaiting a second visit from a structural engineer who will assess the full extent of the damage to the house’s foundation. She had insured the house against overland flooding but this was capped at a small fraction of the house’s value. She can apply for provincial assistance until Oct. 27 under the Disaster Recovery Assistance program.
Ontario sets a limit of $250,000 in compensation for emergency expenses and repairs, but the program sets a number of conditions. For instance, homeowners can claim only for costs that restore the house to a “basic” condition — landscaping and driveway reconstruction expenses aren’t included — and there are firm caps on the replacement value of stoves ($700), refrigerators ($900) and couches ($1,000).
Also not eligible are damages from lost wages or revenues. In Zhang’s case, she had to close the Lighthouse for two weeks while the cleanup ensured.
But Ontario flood victims at least aren’t facing possible eviction in the manner of their Quebec cousins.
Check out the scene just east of Le Moulin industrial park, directly across the river from the Rockcliffe Airport. At flood tide last May, the water reached more than 100 metres up rue Glaude and rue Saint-Paul. Here and there stacks of debris sit at the curb, awaiting removal. For sale signs are surprisingly common given the depressed state of the real estate market here in the flood’s wake. Tradesmen — roofers, mechanical engineers, companies that offer renovations — are evident along most streets. City workers apply fixes to damaged road surfaces.
An aerial view of Gatineau and the Ottawa River hit by heavy flooding.
Inside a single-story house, a resident who didn’t want to be named, shows me the damage done to her basement. The foundation is clearly cracked.
“That’s where the water rushed in,” she explains. On the main floor, possessions are stacked in the kitchen, awaiting disposition. In the tiny backyard sits a car. “We moved it there because the ground is higher, but the water reached it anyway.”
The cost of replacing that car may well be covered. One of the more surprising aspects of the flood’s aftermath is that the bulk of private insurance costs may well prove to involve autos. That’s because cars are typically protected by comprehensive insurance policies.
Our Moulin resident has larger worries on her mind. Gesturing to a questionnaire sent to all households by the City of Gatineau, she asks, “Should I sign this?”
The one page survey attempts to discern the level of damage during the flood so that city officials “can determine which properties will be inspected for municipal assessment purposes.”
She is suspicious, however. The Quebec government recently announced that it would allow homeowners on existing flood plains to repair their properties — but only as long as the latter were not extensively damaged. Under the Quebec General Financial Assistance Program governing disasters, residents can claim up to $200,000 for renovations and emergency expenses. If their home is more than 50 per cent damaged however, it must be demolished and they will not be allowed to rebuild on the flood plain. They will receive $50,000 for the land.
Our resident is convinced the survey is the city’s way of identifying on behalf of the province which homes should be demolished.
She feels trapped. The health services professional moved to this district in the first place because it was inexpensive. Now she is living in limbo, uncertain whether she will be permitted to stay. If authorities rule she can remain and make repairs, she’s not sure how much compensation can she count on and when it will come through.
“Should I pay to fix my furnace now and count on the money arriving?” she asks rhetorically. And then there’s the other question everyone is asking: when will the river rise again?
It’s something Zhang thinks about now and then. For the past few weeks she has been sustained by support from her Constance Bay neighbours and customers. The community proved exceptionally well organized and disciplined during the crisis.
Nevertheless, this has been a stressful time. The Ottawa River no longer has a benign look. Perhaps with time, assuming no recurrences, the immediacy of this disaster will recede.
It’s a beautiful corner of Ottawa, immensely attractive for homeowners. Most will not move. Nevertheless, May’s flood is a reminder that living there carries a cost, some of it borne by general taxpayers. When governments finally close the books on this relief effort and what it cost, they may well assess whether that is a fair deal for people who don’t live on flood plains.
In the meantime, the clean up continues, house by house, for residents whose worlds cannot get back to normal fast enough.
jbagnall@postmedia.com
Twitter.com/JamesBagnall1
查看原文...
