Garden On the Move : Environment: Decomposing garbage underneath South Coast Botanic Garden creates special problems, but those who work at the site of the former landfill believe their man-made paradise is far better than the alternative.
The vibrant roses, fragrant herbs and stately trees flourishing in the South Coast Botanic Garden belie the shifting, decomposing nightmare beneath.
But superintendent Tak Niiya never forgets it is there.
“It’s sinking and moving all the time, as much as five feet a year in some spots,” he said as he drove a bouncing truck over the rutted and eroding terrain. Tall trees topple easily. The shifting ground occasionally severs electrical lines and disrupts irrigation systems.
The hidden problem, Niiya says, is trash--tons of it. But as much as Niiya and his gardeners hate the underlying garbage, they recognize it has been both the garden’s genesis and its nemesis.
For, without it, this urban oasis would never have existed.
Created in 1961, the South Coast Botanic Garden was the ultimate recycling project, designed to convert an 87-acre landfill from wasteland into paradise. Originally operated as an open diatomite pit mine from 1929 to 1956, the site off Crenshaw Boulevard in Rolling Hills Estates was used as a dump from 1957 to 1965.
As the landfill reached capacity, county officials began worrying about what they could do with it, other than closing operations and leaving the whole stinking mess to rot.
Community leaders stepped in, suggesting that the dump become one of the nation’s first gardens developed on top of a landfill.
“When we took over, they were still filling up the west end (with trash),” Niiya said. “We started with nothing, just a landfill. We had a few trees around the perimeter fence line used as a screen, but they were the only things living.”
Three feet of local topsoil, still laced with the crumbly diatomite popular for use in pool and industrial filters, was brought in to cover the 100-foot high mounds of trash. Early garden planners anticipated some shifting and sliding as the trash settled and decomposed, so landscaping was added slowly.
But they did not realize, Niiya said, how much heat the decomposition would generate. Many early plantings withered and died, their roots scorched to death by the composting trash.
In addition, explosive methane gas began to build up underground. Planners installed an intricate gas shunting system that now collects the gas through porous underground pipes and ships it across Crenshaw Boulevard, where it is burned off to create electricity that is then sold to Southern California Edison Co.
After they thought the shifting had slowed enough, garden designers installed maintenance buildings, gazebos, an artificial stream and lake and a small restroom.
But the now-hidden dump had more surprises in store.
A dirt hill now slopes gently away from a loading dock that once had a flat driveway. A plastic membrane that prevented the stream’s water from seeping into the soil has cracked and shifted, forcing planners to turn it into a dry creek bed. The restroom has slowly, inexorably tipped to the south, rendering the building useless.
“The standard joke around here is that everything is topsy-turvy,” Niiya said.
But the roughly 250 volunteers and eight full-time county workers who make the garden grow take its quirks and oddities in stride.
“I’ve always thought of this place as a laboratory. We’ve had to figure out what will survive here,” said Norma Cantafio, executive director of a nonprofit foundation that helps support the garden.
“It’s an educational (site) for landfills all over the world, which today have become quite a problem,” she said. “Yes, we have had our share of difficulties, but isn’t this a nicer place than if it had been left as it was? This is a very vibrant part of the community, instead of a wasteland.”
Although more than 100,000 people walk through the garden gates each year, the site remains so uncrowded--even on weekends--that visitors can hike several minutes without seeing or hearing another person.
It is a tranquil setting, with the sounds of the lake’s resident geese and ducks rising easily over the distant rumble of traffic on Crenshaw Boulevard. Horse trails ring the garden, adding a rustic touch as riders canter past just outside the fence.
Over time, the garden has been divided into sections of color and plant type. Deep inside the site are charming specialized areas, such as a tiny redwood forest, complete with cedars and ferns, planted on one of the few plots of stable ground inside the garden. A short path, carpeted with fallen needles, leads under the redwood boughs to a wooden bench where visitors can rest and meditate.
Plans now call for the garden’s most elaborate landscaping and development to take place on 10 acres just inside the main entrance.
Visitors first walk through a special volunteers garden, featuring everything from flowers and herbs to an abundant vegetable garden. Meandering paths lead to a cactus display, a bromeliad garden and a small orchard of flowering fruit trees.
Volunteers have created a “senses garden,” just completed in the past few weeks, that features flower beds at waist level so visually-impaired visitors can run their fingers through scented geraniums, mints, herbs and vegetables. The volunteers now are trying to raise enough money to post signs next to plants urging visitors to touch and smell the soft and fragrant leaves, Niiya said.
A formal rose garden, lovingly tended by a team of volunteers, also opened this year. Flourishing in the mild climate, the bushes have bloomed all year with flowers flashing a rainbow of hues.
“We’re hoping to make this a real showplace,” said Bernard Barnett, 61, who travels three times a week from his San Pedro home to mulch and prune the rose bushes.
Like so many of the garden’s volunteers, Barnett comes because he loves the outdoors.
“I enjoy working here,” he said. “It’s a beautiful place to work and there are marvelous people here to work with.”
Very few of the garden’s green thumbs are paid for their efforts, Niiya said.
Shortly after Proposition 13 passed in 1978, he said, the garden’s paid staff was reduced from roughly 30 positions to the eight now assigned there today. Some of the nonprofit foundation’s 2,300 members stepped into the void, keeping the garden functional, if simple.
Because the county lumps spending on all four of its botanic gardens together, Niiya said he could only estimate its annual budget at between $500,000 and $700,000. The foundation contributes between $50,000 and $100,000 each year, he said.
Rising water costs as the state’s six-year drought has deepened have further restricted the development of specialized landscaping. Now Niiya hopes to convert as much as three-quarters of the site to drought-tolerant plants as a kind of living laboratory for area nurseries and horticultural experts to study.
The garden also has begun converting its irrigation systems from electrical to solar power, in part to demonstrate the efficiency of such a power source.
“Whatever we learn here eventually will help the public in future years,” Niiya said. “Some of the lush material we can grow, while still worrying about drought resistance, will teach them what can be done.”
Although some of the experimental plants do not survive, the gardeners just chalk up the loss to experience, Niiya said.
“We could be a landfill, or we could be a living laboratory,” he said. “Isn’t this better than the alternative?”
Facts About the South Coast Botanic Garden * Located on 87 acres at 26300 Crenshaw Boulevard, the site of an old landfill. * Open daily 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. * Admission is $3 for adults, $1.50 for seniors and students with ID, 75 cents for children 5 to 12 and free for those under 5. * Special events: Weekend tram tours of the garden are conducted at 11 a.m., 1 p.m. and 2 p.m. Riders over 2 are charged $1.50. The garden sponsors a number of shows, concerts and plays during the year. * Information on upcoming events is available at (310) 544-6815.
