Putting the Theory Of 'Good Fences' To the Beach Test

Maryland Island Owner Cordons Off Property That Has Long Been a Favorite Spot for Boaters

Paul Spadaro opposes the closing off of Dobbins Island by its owner: "He should have known he was buying an island that was a de facto park." (Marvin Joseph/twp - The Washington Post)

David Clickner thinks of Dobbins Island, a crescent of wooded bluffs on the Magothy River, as his future home. Much of the Chesapeake Bay boating community regards it as a public beach.

The standoff was all but inevitable.

It came on Fourth of July weekend. Boaters arrived at Clickner's island to find thick wood pilings, the makings of an imposing fence, planted across much of the beach. The owner returned this weekend to finish the job, stringing a chain across the sand as an audience of anchored boaters watched. Dobbins Island -- its beach, hiking paths and wild interior -- was officially closed.

"It's a shame," said Gerard Donohue, a Pasadena man who hovered with his sons in shallow water just beyond the fence. "A lot of people come here with their kids to enjoy this."

The fencing of Dobbins Island might mark the end of an era. Generations of boaters have dropped anchor at the landmark of the lower Magothy to picnic, pitch tents, carouse and explore. Their presence was never legal -- apart from a sliver of beach, the island is private property. But previous owners never did much to stop the visitors, and the occasional "No Trespassing" signs wouldn't stay up long.

Clickner, however, wants to build a year-round home on the seven-acre island, which he purchased in 2004. And he does not envision living at the center of a perpetual cookout.

"My parents raised me to respect other people's property," he said, and he wants the boaters to respect his. "There's drugs and all kinds of stuff going on out there. It's basically a place that has been left without rules."

Once part of a larger land mass, Dobbins Island endures as a wedge of Chesapeake Bay antiquity. Indians once dwelt there. Pirates were said to have hidden treasure in the bluffs. An ancient Dutch shipwreck was once visible off its shore. Previous owners used the land for tobacco farming and livestock grazing. The foundation of a home from the early 20th century is there.

The Dobbins family was said to have allowed public use of the cove, and subsequent owners upheld that tradition.

Clickner and his neighbor, Daryl Wagner, represent the hermetic fringe of a movement to upend tradition. Landowners across Anne Arundel County are developing old summer homes and fishing camps into waterfront dream homes.

Wagner, an Annapolis area developer, built his 3,200-square-foot house on Little Island, a few hundred yards north of the big island, five years ago without the proper permits. Neighbors marveled at his nerve. Environmentalists pounced. They see the Little Island home as the most blatant violation to date of state laws that restrict development along the shores of the Chesapeake -- an entire house built without permission within the strictest environmental buffer in Maryland.

Clickner is seeking permission before he builds. The county rejected the first house he proposed, then the second. He recently submitted plans for a third.