Misgivings Rise Along With Antarctican Tourism
NTTIMES
By IAN AUSTEN
Published: November 26, 2007

OTTAWA, Nov. 25 — From its beginning until its demise, the Explorer was an Antarctic pioneer. Launched in 1969 under the name Lindblad Explorer, it was the first ship built specifically to ferry tourists to Antarctica. When it disappeared beneath the polar region’s waters last week, it became the first commercial passenger ship to sink there.

The Explorer sank about 600 miles from South America.
But with the rapid rise of ship tourism in Antarctica — perhaps the last major ungoverned territory on earth — the sinking was not unanticipated. Both the United States and Britain warned a conference of Antarctic treaty nations in May that the tourism situation in the region was a potential disaster in the making.

The treaty countries, the United States said in a paper presented at the meeting, “should take a hard look at tourism issues now, especially those related to vessel safety, and not await more serious events to spur them to action.”

More than 35,000 tourists are expected to visit Antarctica this spring and summer, compared with just 6,750 during 1992-93, according to the Antarctic Treaty Secretariat. And rather than just ships like the Explorer that carry 100 passengers, the flotilla has included such behemoths of the cruise ship industry as the Golden Princess, which arrived with 2,500 passengers and 1,200 crew members last season.

Relatively calm seas, the slow pace of the Explorer’s sinking and its proximity to other ships and military rescue forces all helped ensure that the episode was not a disaster, at least in human terms. On Sunday, the last of the passengers and crew members evacuated from the Explorer were airlifted from Antarctica to Punta Arenas, Chile.

No one, according to the ship’s owner, G.A.P. Adventures of Toronto, was injured, although many survivors said their five hours aboard open lifeboats in choppy seas were harrowing.

While the rescue may have been a success, the consequences for the Antarctic’s fragile environment of having a submerged ship that is estimated to be holding 48,000 gallons of marine diesel fuel sitting off its coast are unclear.

And while the frontier nature of Antarctica is a large part of its tourist appeal, it also means that the region is a legal muddle. There are no obvious answers about who is responsible for dealing with any environmental damage the Explorer may cause or how methods can be created to prevent future sinkings.

“There’s been kind of an explosion of tourism in Antarctica,” said Jim Barnes, executive director of the Antarctic and Southern Ocean Coalition, an association of environmental organizations that participates in Antarctic treaty meetings. “Do we want this to become Disneyland or do we want some controls?”

Mr. Barnes, like many Antarctic experts, was surprised to learn that the Explorer, which was purchased by G.A.P. in 2004, had sunk. While not an icebreaker — a hull design impractical for passenger ships — the Explorer was specially reinforced to withstand blows from ice.

The company says it was certified at the highest rating given by Finland and Sweden for non-icebreakers. If its hull was breached, watertight compartments were supposed to contain the water and allow it to remain afloat.

Leif Skog, who captained the ship while it was owned by Lindblad Expeditions of Seattle, said, however, that the Explorer was designed to withstand the flooding of just one compartment. Any leakage of water into adjoining compartments, he said, would be sufficient to sink the ship.

“The compartment must be completely watertight,” said Captain Skog, Lindblad’s vice president of marine operations. “If you have a crack between two compartments, you have a problem.”

G.A.P. initially attributed the sinking to a fist-size hole in the hull created by ice. But in an e-mail message on Sunday, Susan Hayes, its vice president of marketing, said that there was also a crack that, like the hole, could not be effectively sealed by the crew. It was not clear if the crack spanned compartments.

Many of the large cruise ships now visiting Antarctica have little or no ice reinforcement in their designs. Such ships generally stay well offshore and only come to the continent at the height of summer..

Avoiding ice near the South Pole, however, may not always be possible. Some areas act as ice bottlenecks and can rapidly swing from being open water to being clogged with heavy concentrations of ice.

Commercial considerations from the tourist rush may also push vessels into dangerous situations. “The increasing number of ships operating in Antarctica — especially in the peninsula region — means that ships are under greater pressures to meet the time slots for visiting key sites,” the British government wrote in a paper at the meeting of treaty nations. The Antarctic Peninsula is the part of the continent that reaches toward South America.

Seven nations, including Argentina and Britain, claim to control portions of Antarctica, although those claims are not recognized under international law. That has left the alliance of treaty nations as the closest thing the region has to a government.

Developing consensus among the treaty nations is a slow-moving process, and the resulting resolutions are not binding, particularly on non-treaty countries like Liberia, where the Explorer was registered. “At the end of the day, there’s no military or coast guard for Antarctica,” Mr. Barnes said. “It’s a difficult enforcement situation.”

Nevertheless, Mr. Barnes said he was heartened last month when the treaty group adopted a resolution asking its members to discourage or ban ships under their control with more than 500 passengers from landing on the continent.

Mr. Barnes said tourism in Antarctica will only be effectively controlled if nations like Canada are willing to enforce rules on companies based in their territory such as G.A.P., whose ships are registered elsewhere under flags of convenience.

“Governments have the potential to exercise more control,” he said.

By ADAM BOWLES
Norwich Bulletin, May 14, 2005

U.S. Rep. Rob Simmons, R-2nd District, discusses the BRAC recommendation to fully close the U. S. Submarine Base in Groton at a press conference Friday in New London. From left are State Rep. Andrea Stillman, U.S. Sen. Joseph Lieberman, Simmons, Gov. M. Jodi Rell and State Rep. Cathy Cook.

GROTON-- Grim-faced and angry, U.S. Rep. Rob Simmons, R-2nd District, said Friday the state is ready and resolved to overturn the Department of Defense's recommendation to close the Groton submarine base.

"We're the submarine capital of the world and we will stay the submarine capital of the world," he said at a news conference at the Radisson Hotel New London, prompting applause from dozens of local leaders who had stood in stony silence.

Electric Boat in Groton, a world-leading submarine manufacturer that also maintains and repairs submarines at the base, said it would remain open even if the base eventually closes.

"We want to stress that Electric Boat's future is not tied directly to the Submarine Base," EB officials said in a prepared statement Friday. "Important synergies do exist and 580 of our employees play an important role in the day-to-day activities at the base. Closing the base could eventually impact these numbers."

EB said it has a backlog in constructing Virginia-class submarines, likely a 30-ship program.

John Markowicz, who leads the Subase Realignment Coalition, a regional group fighting for the survival of the base, recalled Winston Churchill's famous World War II speech when he said, "Never, ever give up."

Gov. M. Jodi Rell and U.S. Sen. Joseph Lieberman preceded Simmons' comments with promises of their own that they would expose the flaws that led to the "insulting" decision.

"There is still time to save the base and all its economic promise," said Rell, who stood next to an easel with a timeline showing Connecticut has few opportunities to reverse the decision before a final deadline in December.

The region has proven twice before that success is achievable. But the odds of victory are low as only 15 percent of the recommendations are typically rejected.

Rell said the work to save the base begins now.

On Monday, her staff will meet with the state's Congressional delegation to discuss a battle strategy. On Tuesday, she will meet with the Subase Realignment Coalition and the leaders of the top 10 businesses in New London County to form a counter argument.

On Wednesday, she will oversee a "strike force" of leaders from every state agency to scrutinize the "faulty assumptions" behind the decision to include the base on the closure list.

The Base Closure and Realignment Commission is interested only in the military value of each base and not its economic impact on local communities, Rell said.

But Rell said she and other state leaders will keep in mind the people who would be affected by the closure -- the grocery stores, employees with car payments, the hospitals and large and small businesses.

A state Department of Economic and Community Development study recently estimated the Groton base's closing would result in the loss of 31,500 jobs and $3.3 billion to the state's economy.

Lieberman called the Pentagon's decision irrational and irresponsible.

"It was insulting to our history and endangering to our future," he said, before outlining his plans for action.

He said he will demand a senior level briefing from the Pentagon on its detailed rationale for its recommendation, reach out to BRAC Commissioners, testify at the BRAC hearing Tuesday when the methodology for the list will be reviewed, and work with the local coalition fighting to keep the base open.

The Pentagon is closing bases to save billions of dollars in its defense budget.

The first major deadline the Subase Realignment Coalition faces is July 1, when the Government Accountability Office will show the president and the congressional Armed Services and Defense Appropriations committees how the recommending closings save money.

Lieberman said he will work to prove that the Groton base is a nuclear site that would be too costly to clean up and cannot be rebuilt.

The BRAC Commission must submit a list of recommendations for base closures and realignments to President Bush by Sept. 8. If the sub base is still on the list, the odds of getting off the list drop drastically.

Bush must accept or reject the list in its entirety by Sept. 23, but the White House typically accepts the recommendations. Simmons said the White House has said it will remain isolated from the process.

Once Bush submits an approval list by Nov. 7, Congress has 45 legislative days to reject the list or else the recommendations become final.

Markowicz said he was confident that the "battle-hardened" coalition would create a forceful, data-based argument to get the base off the list.

Phase one of the coalition's strategy was unsuccessful, Markowicz said, but now it's time for the final two phases.

Coalition member William Moore helped lead the winning fight to get the base off the list in 1993. Two years later, he said the base narrowly avoided being added to the list.

But he said this year's fight will be harder than ever for several reasons.

Two more commissioners have been added to BRAC, meaning the coalition will need more votes for an overturn. Other communities nationwide have become just as savvy about the process. And the Pentagon has been more tight-lipped than ever about information related to the recommendations.

In 1993, the realignment coalition discovered the Pentagon used measurements that applied to cruise ships but not submarines when evaluating the Groton base.

This year, state leaders said the Pentagon did not factor in the base's synergy with EB.

Lieberman said the country was forgetting the lessons of history, particularly Pearl Harbor, and leaving itself vulnerable at a time when the nation is waging a war against terrorism.

"They've hit us," he said of the Pentagon, "but they haven't knocked us down."
 
 

                    June 30, 2002
                    By PENELOPE OVERTON, The Hartford Courant

                    Rising three stories above the shallow surf of Madison's
                    Seaview Beach is Martha and Christian Bardin's dream
                    house, a striking mix of shingle, metal and wood that has
                    captured the mood of Connecticut's booming shoreline.

                    The California family's new home, which was completed
                    this month, is five times bigger and nine times more
                    valuable than the rambling, rickety bungalow that stood on
                    the land they bought for $1.2 million in 2000.

                    They were drawn to the central Connecticut shoreline
                    because of its reputation for strong public schools, its
                    rugged New England beaches and its proximity to New
                    York City, which is a relatively short train ride away on the
                    commuter line.

                    "It feels peaceful and private and picturesque," said
                    Christian Bardin, a recently retired marketing executive for
                    Neutrogena. "I didn't want to raise my children in L.A. This
                    seems like a perfect setting to raise a family, to do almost
                    anything."

                    The Bardins are joining a wave of new people, money and
                    architecture flooding the historic seaside towns from
                    Branford to Old Lyme, creating a red-hot land market and
                    red-hot tensions between old and new, the rich and the
                    really rich.

                    The Bardins skipped the high-priced homes and clogged
                    highways of Fairfield County's fabled Gold Coast in favor
                    of the more affordable coastal suburbs east of New
                    Haven, willing and able to trek ever eastward in search of
                    buildable coast.

                    "That area is very nice, of course, but it seemed too
                    crowded and a bit overpriced for what you were getting,
                    too," Bardin said. "Here it is just as nice, if not nicer, and
                    we have more potential because it is up-and-coming."

                    The trend toward bigger, costlier luxury homes on smaller
                    and smaller building lots resembles the frenzy that
                    gripped the original Gold Coast more than a decade ago.
                    The shoreline is so hot that locals call it Gold Coast East.

                    The region was officially discovered in 2000, Madison
                    builder Bill Plunkett said. That's when the number of luxury
                    home orders exhausted the supply of local builders.
                    That's also when the Bardins came to town, eager to fulfill
                    their architectural fantasy.

                    From the back, their house blends into the weathered
                    shingle streetscape. A silvery metal roof hints at the
                    secrets lurking behind that Nantucket facade. On the
                    beach side, however, a spectacular wall of windows and
                    balconies greets the sea.

                    The southern face of the house is so dramatic that
                    passersby often stop, stare and point. Sometimes they
                    snap a photograph. Others gawk at the floating
                    staircases, the open floor plan and Scandinavian design
                    clearly visible through the window.

                    "People either hate it or they love it," Plunkett said. "They
                    spared no expense and wanted it done right. It's a near
                    perfect example of what's happening up and down this
                    stretch of shore."

                    Across the country, Americans are building bigger, pricier
                    and more luxury-laden homes, but local census data,
                    land-use permits and house listings show this big boom
                    is especially hot along the shoreline between New Haven
                    and Old Lyme.

                    In the past five years, architects say, the size of new
                    shoreline homes has doubled, averaging about 5,000
                    square feet now. Even the tiniest of shoreline spots now
                    feature speculative, brand-new, year-round mansions
                    thanks to friendly zoning panels.

                    In a great many cases, these buildings cannot go up until
                    more humble structures come down. Madison recorded
                    the demolition of two single-family homes in 1999, three
                    in 2000 and seven in 2001, with town officials expecting
                   those figures to keep growing. Guilford reported five in
                    2000 and has approved four so far in 2002.

                    It's a cultural shift that can be observed on a daily basis
                    from behind the counter of Jay Medlyn's farm stand in
                    Stony Creek, a posh waterfront borough of Branford that
                    functions as a geographic gateway to central
                    Connecticut's shoreline.

                    Medlyn's family has fed three generations of area
                    residents.

                    His grandfather delivered fresh milk to the quarry workers
                    and lobstermen who lived in Stony Creek during World
                    War I. His father fed the first wave of summer folks from
                    New York as the area evolved from blue collar to blue
                    blood.

                    Now Jay raises tomatoes, cuts firewood and plows
                    driveways for the millionaires who live in Stony Creek's
                    waterside estates. His clientele has included Bill Gates'
                    father, J.P. Morgan's granddaughter and a New York
                    Knicks owner.

                    "Every new bunch of people that come are a little richer
                    than the last," said Medlyn, 46. "Most of the rich people are
                    as nice as pie, but it is sad that we're losing all the regular
                    folks. Even the doctors and lawyers can't afford it
                    anymore."

                    A few working-class families remain to build the
                    mansions and repair the yacht engines. Some can barely
                    afford the rising taxes on the old family homes, while
                    others have struck it rich by playing the local real estate
                    market.

                    That's how William Theroux worked his way into a
                    three-bedroom contemporary in Stony Creek. The
                    exterminator locals call "The Bug Man" has bought and
                    sold nine houses in the last two decades, making money
                    on every sale.

                    "The only way somebody like me gets a house in Stony
                    Creek now is if I inherit it or if I hit the lottery," Theroux said.
                    "I hit the housing lottery. I trade houses like some people
                    trade cars. It's the only way I can compete with the rich
                    out-of-towners."

                    Realtors, builders and town officials say wealthy families
                    are leaving New York, Fairfield County and Litchfield
                    County because those places are largely built out, with
                    every scrap of shoreline and many wooded acres already
                    supporting a million-dollar home.

                    They push east looking for affluent suburbs on the
                    commuter train line to New York that has social cache,
                    good schools, a historic downtown and land deals that
                    seem like a bargain compared with Greenwich, Darien or
                    New Canaan.

                    The new arrivals are competing for land with the wealthy
                    families already living in the region, including many who
                    are connected to Yale University, one of New Haven's
                    hospitals or one of the old-money families who used to
                    summer there.

                    "It's crazier than the Gold Coast ever was," said Realtor
                    Jackie Caron, who sold homes in Stamford for 20 years
                    before joining DeWolfe Realty in Old Lyme in 2000. "We're
                    selling houses sight unseen in a matter of hours. Price is
                    not an issue."

                    The average home along the shoreline in the central part
                    of Connecticut was valued at $210,600 in 2000, which is
                    26 percent higher than the state average, federal census
                    data show. Homes south of Route 1 are more expensive,
                    with shorefront lots regularly fetching $1 million.

                    Guilford set its sale record for a single home in June 2001
                    when Bonnie and Jonathan Rothberg, the founder of local
                    biotech company Curagen, paid about $5.9 million for a
                    modest ranch on 4 waterfront acres in Guilford.

                    The Rothbergs, who used to live in Guilford's Old Quarry
                    neighborhood, have cleared the land overlooking the
                    water, but neighbors don't know if the couple plan new
                    construction or a much-discussed vineyard.

                    The Rothberg sale outdid the $4.9 million paid weeks
                    before by Thomas P. Salice, the head of a New York
                    venture capital firm, for a 6,500-square-foot colonial
                    nestled on Vineyard Point. The Realtor described it as a
                    weekend getaway.

                    The shingled, seasonal ranches, capes and cottages that
                    once dominated the shore are giving way to bigger, more
                    grandiose structures known as builder's colonials that sit
                    cheek-to-jowl on tiny lots overlooking Long Island Sound.

                    The environmental impact of the trend toward such big
                    houses makes some architects uneasy.

                    The big houses require more natural resources to build
                    and more energy to heat, said architect Bernard Lombardi
                    of Guilford.

                    "You just don't need that much space," Lombardi said.
                    "How many dining areas and bonus rooms and garages
                    do you need? Somehow we have translated redundant
                    living into social status at the expense of conservation."

                    The luxury housing market has flourished despite the
                    economic downturn. Some builders think the troubled
                    stock market is actually fueling this boom, lowering
                    interest rates and turning real estate into a relatively safe
                    investment vehicle.

                    "This is a different kind of clientele we're talking about,"
                    said Daniel Dimes, who works for Flamand Builders of
                    Guilford. "We're talking about people who look at a bad
                    economy as an opportunity, not a liability."

                    A bad economy often brings a flurry of land transactions
                    as those losing money sell property to cover debt and
                    raise capital, and those making money or remaining
                    steady take advantage of the fire-sale prices, Dimes said.

                    The big-house boom is boosting local property tax
                    revenue, something that couldn't have come at a better
                    time, Madison First Selectman Thomas Scarpati said. The
                    state has eliminated millions of dollars in funding for
                    more affluent towns such as Madison.

                    The biggest tax benefit of the influx is yet to come for most
                    of the towns along the central Connecticut shoreline,
                    which are just now completing the revaluation of property
                    that determines a lot's value and the owner's tax bill.

                    The new property assessments and tax bills are likely to
                    shock waterfront property owners, especially those who
                    have built large luxury homes, said Nancy Duffy, a Guilford
                    Realtor and chairwoman of the local tax appeals board.

                    "It used to be the land under the beach house that was the
                    most valuable, but now the house is catching up," Duffy
                    said. "I think some of the people who live on the water are
                    going to be faced with some very difficult choices."

                    The towns are taking steps to rein in the development,
                    hoping to preserve the region's ocean views and scenic
                    pastures and prevent the exodus of the retired or
                    middle-class residents who can no longer afford their
                    longtime addresses.

                    Most of the effort is concentrated in land-use regulations.

                    Old Saybrook prohibits the conversion of beach houses
                    into year-round residences, which discourages at least
                    some demolitions. Guilford forbids new shoreline
                    construction to eliminate a public view of Long Island
                    Sound.

                    Towns are joining forces with local preservation groups to
                    buy up thousands of acres of undeveloped land.

                    But the rub between the old and the new is not always
                    about money.

                    Some newcomers are quick to complain about the very
                    things that had initially attracted them to the region, such
                    as fishing docks or small farms that suddenly smell and
                    make too much noise, said Guilford First Selectman Carl
                    Balestracci.

                    Some of the very same people who moved to Guilford
                    because of its small-town values are now lobbying
                    against a playground project planned for Jacobs Beach,
                    Balestracci said. They think the traffic and noise will
                    shatter the peace.

                    "It's the close-the-gate mentality," Balestracci said. "`I'm
                    here now, but nobody else is allowed.' It's a lot different
                    than when I was growing up working in my father's
                    grocery. Everybody knew everybody else." 

When people visit Connecticut, do they go straight to Foxwoods? Or do they stroll through a museum, or maybe head for the ocean? Do they stay a night or two? Will they dine at a restaurant? And how much do they spend when they're here?

These are some of the questions the state tourism office is trying to answer through a new study that began last summer. In the “Intercept” study, as it's known, researchers ask visitors in person to fill out a questionnaire that also asks them why they travel to Connecticut, where they like to spend time and how much they enjoy their stay.

Other tourism studies have been ongoing around the state for years, but the in-person Intercept study produces a highly accurate measure of a number of issues, especially of visitors' economic impact on the state, said Barbara Cieplak, marketing director for the state tourism office.  She said calculating tourism's financial impact was a significant impetus for doing the study, which tourism-related businesses had been asking the state to do.

“The (tourism) industry told us they wanted this kind of info,” Cieplak said. “They can better understand who their customers are, in their region and statewide, and that will help them make better business decisions.”

Cieplak said the tourism office had been considering the project for a number of years but had to develop the methodology first. Participating attractions and businesses are paying for their own research, and their costs vary, Cieplak said.  Witan Intelligence Strategies of Avon is conducting the research. Company President John Bourget helped the tourism office organize and design the study.

Area attractions that have participated in the study so far said they opted in because they want the information. Locally, the Mashantucket Pequot Indian Museum and Research Center and Mystic Seaport were part of the summer 2001 segment while Mystic Aquarium, Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun were part of the fall 2001 segment.

“I think that it is always important to know what it is you are selling and how what you're selling is received by whom you are selling it to,” said Mitchell Etess, executive vice president of marketing at Mohegan Sun, of the casino's reason for participating. “It is much easier to make good marketing decisions when you have as much quality data as possible.”

Lisa Jaccoma, vice president of public affairs at the Mystic Aquarium, said it is important to understand your audience.  “This helps us get a handle on our user base and gets at who our audience is — when they come, if they plan to visit more than one place, why are they here ...,” Jaccoma said. “You have to understand your market.”

Peter Glankoff, director of communications at Mystic Seaport, said that if the organization tried to conduct such research on its own it would prove prohibitively expensive.  “This really demonstrates that the state tourism office is reaching a new level of sophistication and support for the entities that comprise the tourism industry in Connecticut,” he said. “This is a good study. There's a lot of comparative information. We can see our own strengths and weaknesses and where our opportunities are.”

Among the topics examined in the interviews are lodging and the number of nights the visitor is spending in Connecticut; motivation for the trip; the level of satisfaction in the Connecticut experience; and the purpose of the trip.  The survey also asks if the visitor decided to visit Connecticut on the spur of the moment or planned the trip and which activities and attractions the visitor will participate in or go to.  Answers to these questions could help the state to determine how best to market its attractions, Bourget said.

Some of the preliminary findings from at least the first couple of segments of the study include the fact that people of all ages visit the state. Connecticut is not strictly a family destination.  “There are a lot of seniors who like to travel,” Bourget said. “Yes, there's a healthy percentage of people who come with children. But adults traveling without children is significant ... There are seniors who don't have kids, adults who don't have children, adults who have children who left them at home. This is a different market than adults with children who bring them.”

The study has also found that people who visit Connecticut really enjoy their stay. Perceptions of the state were high, in some cases much higher than competing states, Bourget said, prompting a number of return visits.  “People like it here and they come back,” Bourget said.

k.kaplan@theday.com 

By TODD SPANGLER
.c The Associated Press

PITTSBURGH - Fallingwater is falling no more.

After months of work, Frank Lloyd Wright's sagging architectural masterpiece is standing on its own again with the help of an innovative system of steel cables buried under the home's stone floors.

Dramatically cantilevered out over Bear Run, Fallingwater still tilts a little bit toward the bucolic stream but is no longer in danger of being renamed ''Fell-in-water.''

The steel supports that have propped up the home for the past five years while engineers were developing the less-obtrusive solution will be gone by late summer.

''It's going to soar again over the waterfall,'' said Lynda Waggoner, director of the structure voted ''Building of the 20th Century'' by the American Institute of Architects.

Back in the 1930s, when Wright was rewriting the concepts of organic design with his plans for department store magnate Edgar Kaufmann Sr.'s vacation home 70 miles southeast of Pittsburgh, there were concerns the concrete cantilevers could not hold up the building on their own.

Almost as soon as it was completed in 1937, Fallingwater sagged and cracks formed in its pale ocher terraces.

Engineers believed it was just settling, but the cantilevers - reinforced concrete beams that jut out of the hillside and support the house - slowly continued to dip toward the creekbed.

In the mid-1990s someone noticed the structure was in danger of failing completely. Since 1997, steel beams and girders on the creekbed have helped hold it up, compromising Wright's vision of the structure as one practically levitating over the creek.

According to Waggoner, weight transferred from the second floor onto the first floor made the structure sag by as much as six inches in some places.

The Western Pennsylvania Conservancy, which owns the home, called in Robert Silman's New York engineering firm to help find a way to shore up the structure, quietly and unobtrusively.

The plan called for taking up the sandstone floors on the first level and getting down to the cantilevers themselves. Steel cables were placed next to the beams, running much of their length and anchored in place with blocks of concrete poured beside the cantilevers.

Over three days, hydraulic jacks slowly pulled the cables taut with hundreds of tons of pressure. If the building's structure could be compared to a human skeleton, the cable system - invisible once the stones covering the first floor and terrace are laid again - acted like muscles helping Fallingwater to hold itself in place.

The cables lifted the structure about a half-inch above the steel supports rising from the creek and took pressure off the cantilevers.

The plan has worked. The cracks disappeared. The jacks were removed, the ends of the steel strands were cut off, and the holes in the walls where the strands had poked through were patched and painted so that the system is invisible.

Fallingwater will still point downward. Because so much of the building had settled that way over the years, any drastic leveling of the structure could have shattered windows and damaged other sections.

''Those deflections will always be there,'' Waggoner said. ''You don't notice it as much from the interior of the house as you do from looking at the exterior.''

Throughout some of the work - which is part of an overall $11 million restoration - people could still visit Fallingwater.

Now, said Waggoner, the flooring is back down inside the house and the Wright-designed furniture will be in place next week. Weatherproofing on the terrace will soon be replaced and stones there put back down.