Water Shortage No Disaster for Malibu

Malibu residents once again are experiencing the difficulties of living on the edge of a parched mountain range intent on taking a geological dip in the ocean.

This time, however, landslides didn’t close the highways and homes didn’t go hurtling into the winter surf.

Instead, the shifting land broke a water main, leaving about 5,000 homes without water.

As toilets backed up and unshowered bodies ripened, county workers scrambled to repair the 30-inch main around Big Rock Road.

By noon, the hole was fixed and pressure-tested, and water was returning to homes in the late afternoon. Residents were advised that until at least Monday they should boil drinking water for five minutes. Officials said the water was safe for bathing Saturday afternoon.

But Pacific Coast Highway remained closed, creating a massive traffic jam south of the roadblock and, in town, the type of eerie silence that accompanies the usual disasters: fires, floods and landslides.

“You can actually hear the sea gulls today,” said Ken McKnight, who sneaked over the hills from Sherman Oaks. “It’s really quiet.”

Victor Tamago, 55, said he was going to roller-skate right down the highway, an act that might cost him his life on a normal weekend. “This is wonderful,” he said.

A water leak was first discovered Thursday afternoon, followed by another the next day. Residents began losing water pressure Friday afternoon and many restaurants and cafes had to close.

Some, such as the Pier View cafe, managed to stay open by renting portable restrooms and using paper plates and plastic utensils. Outside, its sign read: “We R Open, Yeah Baby!” But the usual rush of customers was reduced to a trickle.

“We’re just squeaking by,” said waiter Darren Guthrie.

County Department of Public Works officials said the highway would remain closed to nonresidents today between Topanga Canyon and Encinal Canyon. They did not know if it would open Monday morning, saying visitors might further tax the water supply and create fire hazards at a time when firefighters would be hampered by the lack of water.

“There is a serious concern for us to maintain firefighting supplies,” said county fire Capt. Steve Valenzuela. He said eight water tankers were stationed in the area, along with sheriff’s arson watch volunteers.

For residents, public works officials set up portable toilets and distributed 5-gallon jugs of Sparkletts water at two locations. As they lined up for the water, many said such problems were the worthwhile price of living on this rugged stretch of coast.

“This is nothing,” said Marlene Gozzi, 37, whose home went rafting down Topanga Canyon in 1980. “It gives me a chance to take a bike ride on the highway.”

Longtime resident Karen Levy said the lack of water was just a new form of inconvenience in the problematic area. When she heard the water was running out, she filled her bathtub and later used the water to flush the toilet--her biggest concern.

In the morning, she drove to her gym in Pacific Palisades to shower, then waited in an hour of traffic to return, and drove to Pepperdine University to pick up her ration of drinking water. As she watched another woman go to use a portable toilet, she scoffed.

“I wouldn’t use one of those for all the money in the world,” she said.

Indeed, people rarely used the restrooms, but they picked up at least 2,000 bottles of water. At the Trancas Canyon water location, many residents were filling up jugs to feed their horses and livestock.

Surfers, meanwhile, were ecstatic that the California Highway Patrol was keeping out the thrashing, flailing masses that make Malibu unbearably crowded on summer weekends. As a dying west swell peeled cleanly around the point, Jeff Kaplan said he wished all weekends could be so quiet.

“I think I’d blow up the water main next weekend if I could,” he said.

Other locals came to the point, when on most days they would seek more isolated breaks to the north. “I only come to surf Malibu on disaster days,” said Jeff Eisner of Point Dume.