Satellite photos show the beach is receding by up to 18 feet a year at the mouth of the Paraiba do Sul River in Atafona, where 7,000 people live. About 550 feet have disappeared between 1984 and 2016. Scientists say climate change has caused sea levels to rise, and much of the river’s water has been diverted into nearby cities, farms and factories, pushing back higher waves that wash away buildings, livelihoods and memories. Its potential has been thwarted.
“You see it happen in slow motion,” said Ms. Ferreira, 78, surveying the wreckage at the water’s edge where she raised three children. “You don’t know when exactly your house will fall down but you know it will.”
Atafona is an extreme example of the challenge that lies ahead in a country with some 4,600 miles of coastline, one of the world’s longest coastlines. Scores of other seaside communities in the top 10 countries face a similar fate to Brazil, which will be most affected by rising sea levels, according to Climate Central, a research organization on climate science, environmental researchers say.
In tourist hotspots like João Pessoa on the northeast coast, hotel owners are already begging the government to build artificial reefs to protect their beaches from high tides.
In Sao Paulo state, rising sea levels combined with intense rains caused severe flooding in February that killed more than 60 people and left thousands homeless, said Celia Gouveia Souza, a geologist and oceanographer at the state-backed Environmental Research Institute .
“As the sea was rising at its highest point, a huge amount of water was trying to pour down rivers into the sea,” she said.
In Atafona, the 2-mile-long stretch of beach south of where the Paraiba do Sul River meets the sea resembles a war zone. Houses were broken in half teeter on the sand. There is a broken TV set on a broken tree branch. Entire streets lie empty, cordoned off by the government, their rubble covered in graffiti that quotes biblical passages hinting at the end of the world.
According to the United Nations, the global average sea level is rising due to the expansion of the amount of water in the melting polar ice sheets and higher temperatures. But climate change is also leading to higher and more frequent storms, which is causing much more damage in Atafona, said Eduardo Bulhos, a marine geographer at the Federal University of Fluminense in Rio.
The UN Security Council held its first debate on sea-level rise in February, warning of its global effects from mass migration to conflict over competition for freshwater and land. UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres cited World Meteorological Organization data showing that global average sea level has risen faster in the past 3,000 years since 1900 than in any preceding century. According to the WMO, since 1993, the rate of sea-level rise has doubled, rising by about 10 millimeters since January 2020, with last year at a record high.
Atafona’s problems have been exacerbated by construction and agricultural development. Decades ago, the Paraíba do Sul used to roar down the valley to meet the Atlantic, slowing the progress of the ocean on Atafona.
But now, two-thirds of the river’s water is diverted upstream to supply the city of Rio de Janeiro, and also by factories and farms along its 700-mile course. Deforestation to make way for nearby sugarcane fields has damaged its banks, reducing the river’s flow.
“At the mouth of the river, this battle between the river and the sea has been going on for a long time,” said Mr. Bulhos.
About 500 buildings have disappeared into the sea since the 1960s, said André Pinto, a historian and an official in the São João da Barra municipality, of which Atafona is a district. Broken kitchen tiles and metal shards puncture the white sand, making it dangerous to enter the water.
Ms. Ferreira’s eyes went moist as she gazed upon the empty expanse of ocean for remnants of her past.
“There used to be five blocks of houses on that side… beautiful houses, a church, places to eat crab and fresh fish where everybody met.”
In place of tourists, many lonely men with bloodshot eyes have recently been roaming the beaches, frantically searching for scrap metal or anything of value – residents say there’s a growing problem with crack-cocaine addiction . Occasionally, the police evict illegal occupants from the most dangerous ruins.
Illian Silva, 60, has mixed feelings about the ocean. Since fishermen first arrived here in the 1600s, the sea has been Atafona’s source of wealth, providing livelihoods for the community’s fishermen, including his two sons. But now the sea is about to take everything from him.
The vacation home where she has worked as a live-in housekeeper for the past 30 years is in line to disappear.
“It’s only a matter of time before I lose my job,” she said, adding that she has become fearful of water.
Atafona used to have the grandest houses on the seashore, the summer residences of wealthy sugarcane barons.
They were the first to go, said Jocka Delbons, one of the few real estate agents who have stuck it out in Atafona. He said there is still demand inland, either from people who were evicted from the sea or by investors hoping to buy cheaply and sell for big profits if there is a solution to the water clog.
University researchers in coastal erosion have proposed everything from a giant stone wall to hold the sand back to an underwater blanket to blanket the ocean. There was also talk of adding sand dunes that helped buffer some of the homes below the beach and a 240-metre-long (262-yard-long) jetty out to sea.
“In the end nothing was done,” Mr Pinto said, blaming Brazil’s harsh environmental laws and disputes over which government entity would pay. He believes the best solution is to move people inland.
São João da Barra’s environment secretary, Marcela Toledo, said city hall was working with federal and state officials “to unify efforts”, adding that more needed to be done to address the problems. Is.
Meanwhile, the municipal government has resorted to laying down more than a thousand sandbags each year to protect the most vulnerable properties – a palliative measure Mr Pinto said is as effective as “trying to blow dry snow”.
However, some residents refuse to give up.
Talis Santiago, a handyman whose tiny house is now several feet from the surf, spends his days away from scavengers and sand. Once situated on firm ground a long walk from the beach, their house has gradually been filled with sand as the beach draws closer. Every week, he removes mounds of it that accumulate on his roof, threatening to crush the house from above, as the sea encroaches below.
“The sea is cunning, it starts by eating away at the bottom of the house, eroding the foundation until it collapses,” Mr. Santiago said.
Ms. Ferreira was sitting in a recently built building behind her now-destroyed home, a short walk from the beach. “Most people here believe it is all God’s will,” said Ms. Ferreira, who spends time talking to local scientists who have come to inspect the damage.
“However, I am not one of those people,” she said. “It was us humans, we did it.”
Write to Samantha Pearson at samantha.pearson@wsj.com