Turning on the tide

Alicia Robinson

If Frank Parnass had a theme song, it would probably be Blondie’s

“The Tide Is High.”

But the Newport Beach city equipment operator is one of a small

group of employees whose on-the-job routine is largely unsung.

Parnass is a tide valve turner.

“A what?” you ask.

Tide valve turner.

Armed with a half-dozen tools that are basically long, T-shaped

metal rods, he drives around the peninsula and Balboa Island chasing

the tides, constantly battling being below sea level, opening and

closing valves under the streets to keep them from flooding.

“Timing literally is everything on this job because Mother

Nature’s not going to wait for you,” said Parnass, a 10-year city

employee who has been on tide valve duty for three years.

“I’ve had dreams where someone stole my truck and I’m on the

island with no tools.... I thought, ‘Oh God, I’m in trouble!’”

And there would be trouble of the wettest kind if no one opened

and closed the network of underground valves that runs around the

perimeters of the peninsula and island.

Some are electric, and some must be opened and closed manually --

that’s what the metal rods are for -- but the purpose of all of them

is the same: to keep rising tide waters from backing up into storm

drains, flooding streets and ruining homes. When the tide is low

enough, the valves are left open so any rain or other runoff can

drain properly.

The valves -- 51 on the peninsula and 36 on the island -- were

installed about 30 years ago. Before that, flooding was just a part

of life by the water.

“We had it all over the island,” said Ken Lindahl, who lives on

Balboa Island and has been a Newport resident on and off for 50

years. “It used to flood up under the house.”

No rest on this watch

Preventing flooding is the responsibility of workers in the city’s

General Services Department. When they’re not turning tide valves,

they might be clearing out storm drains, sweeping streets, cleaning

up after an accident or making sure the beaches are safe and tidy.

But the tide is a harsh mistress. The valves have to be opened and

closed about 20 times a month, at all hours of the day and night,

whether it’s any old Saturday or Christmas. Workers consult a tiny

booklet that lists the high and low tides, and if the high tide will

be much above 5 feet, they know someone will be out working the

valves.

On one recent evening shift, Parnass explained the typical

routine. By the third stop, around 8:30 p.m., he’s already closed one

electric valve and a couple of manual ones, and he’s met a cat and

greeted a pair of dogs he knows by name.

What kind of people he sees depends on the time of day --

bikini-clad sunbathers on nice days and late-night partyers reeling

home from the bars at night, and Parnass said he’s come across Dennis

Rodman and various famous baseball players who live in the area.

Sometimes his work is noisy -- the electric valves make quite a

racket when they close, and if it rains when the valves are closed,

the city brings in pumps to keep the streets dry. But even when he’s

clattering around at 3 a.m., some people don’t complain. Last winter,

a sea wall on Newport Island was leaking and the city workers fixed

it, much to residents’ relief.

“They give us nice Christmas gifts every year just for saving

their house from flooding,” Parnass said.

He checks the tide at what’s basically a giant yardstick on the

wall near 32nd Street and Newport Boulevard. The peak is supposed to

be at 5.4 feet this time, but the tides are often a little higher

than predicted and Parnass expects it to reach 6 feet this night. The

valve by the yardstick is not the place you want to have problems.

“It’s a big deal for us to continue to make sure there’s no water

on the streets because it’s right in front of City Hall,” he said.

The highest tide ever recorded in the city was 8.2 feet on Jan. 9

of this year. Even the tide valves couldn’t keep the water out then,

because the sea walls around the city’s low points are only 8 feet

high.

“We had fish swimming in the streets, we had ducks having a field

day, just clean-up after clean-up,” Parnass said.

Once the valves are closed, whoever’s on duty drives around to

make sure they’re not leaking or obstructed. Workers also check for

water in the parking lots by the Newport Pier, and do a little

paperwork before heading out to open all the valves once the tide

starts going out.

Out of the public eye

In some ways, the job seems anachronistic. A tide log book is

filled out by hand on each shift. Some of the larger valves are

controlled by electricity, but it’s unlikely all the valves would

ever be electrified because converting them would be costly, and it’s

easier to tell when manual valves are clogged with debris.

When it comes to people’s million-dollar waterfront homes, “the

liability is just too high,” said storm drain and street sweeping

supervisor Jim Auger.

Being a tide valve turner can be hectic -- in the summer, it’s a

constant struggle to dodge the tourists and get each valve closed

before the tide peaks.

And even though they visit the same streets on every shift, it’s

not like “Cheers,” where everybody knows their names. Lots of people

don’t even know about the tide valve turners -- or the valves, for

that matter.

“I had never heard of that,” said Chadd Smith, who lived on Balboa

Island for two years and was recently visiting from Irvine. “Now that

you explained it, it makes perfect sense, but it’s something that I

never thought about before.”

But the job isn’t totally without recognition. Joan Torribio, who

has lived on the island for 20 years, often sees the tide valve

turners and knows all about what they do.

“They’re awesome,” she said. “They’re here in the middle of the

night, they’re here when the storms are coming.... They save us!”

Working tide valve duty is only for those who enjoy it because it

can cut into workers’ personal lives.

“A lot of us schedule our vacations and time off around the

tides,” said Tom Miller, a crew chief in the General Services

Department.

But as much as the tide valve turners care about their job, they

also have a little fun with the people they’re serving. Miller and

Parnass both said on pretty much every shift, someone asks them what

they’re doing -- and of course, Parnass said, they have a smart

answer.

“We always tell ‘em we’re raising and lowering the island for

‘em.”

* ALICIA ROBINSON covers government and politics. She may be

reached at (714) 966-4626 or by e-mail at

[email protected].