Well, they used to call him Dr.Doom.

Now they call him quite often.

It's funnier when Nicholas K. Coch, professor of geology atQueens College in New York and “forensic hurricanologist,” tellsit.

With a booming voice and a bombastic sense of humor, Coch hasbeen trying to tell New Yorkers for decades that they live in themost dangerous place in the world for storm surge.

He told attendees of Advisen's Property Insights Conference lastyear. There was likely an even mix of audience members laughingat him as there were with him.

This year, Advisen invited Coch back to the conference.

He didn't gloat. He didn't need to.

Everyone now knows Coch has been right all along—that he isindeed no Chicken Little—thanks to Superstorm Sandy, which inOctober 2012 did much to fulfill his prophecy that New York wouldsomeday be home to the world's longest aquarium—its subwaysystem.

The affirmation of Coch's theories based on decades of studydoesn't mean the “Master of Disaster” has packed it in. Theprofessor doesn't stop to say “I told you so” because, according tohim, there is no time to. 

Sandy was not “the big one” that will happen in our lifetime, hetells NU. But Sandy did prove we are “pitifully preparedfor when the big one hits.” 

The storm category has no bearing. If Sandy—not even classifieda hurricane—made landfall 100 miles north of where it did,“Manhattan could have been wiped out,” the lifelong New Yorkersays. “And it could have happened. That storm could have turned[inland] anywhere.”

Coch says the storm surge was just one deadly aspect of Sandy.The professor says meteorologists would better serve residents bypredicting the height of wind-driven waves on top of surge.

Some residents in Sandy's path might have thought they were safeafter listening to storm surge predictions. “That's why they diedon Staten Island,” he says.

Debris and the force of wind in between the city's tallbuildings were major destructive factors during the superstorm, andwill be amplified when a stronger one strikes. Wind pressure isintensified when it's squeezed, he explains.

Yet what's most striking are Coch's thoughts about inlandflooding. The phrase wasn't uttered post-Sandy, but Coch says itplayed a major role in flooding from the “freak” storm.

Manhattan was built upon a series of rivers shown in early maps,he notes. The water is still there somewhere, he says, andtopography of the upper East Coast increases the chances offreshwater flooding from rivers and off mountains. 

“You can't understand Sandy without freshwater flooding,” Cochadds.

But what really makes New York so dangerous is the right anglesformed by Long Island. The ocean water will need a place to go, andit can only move west, into the city, with its low-lyinginfrastructure, utilities, hospitals and airports. Coch says thecity will eventually need flood walls.

He says rebuilding at higher elevations on the coast is anexercise in futility unless we build way up. Homes rebuilton 8-foot stilts may last a generation but their time will alsocome, considering the erratic changes in weather and rising sealevels.

The only way you can deny climate change, he adds, is if youcan't read a thermometer.

“We shouldn't elevate; we should abandon,” he stresses. “Theshoreline is retreating. We should too. Homeowners are never goingto win the fight against Mother Nature. Houses are going to go intothe sea like they're on a conveyor belt—eaten by the God of theSea.”

He relates one story from a student who began telling him herparents couldn't afford a beachfront home on Fire Island, N.Y. (abarrier island off Long Island) in the 1960s.

“I stopped her before she could finish because I know how thestory ends,” Coch says. “I told her, 'Your parents have abeachfront house now, don't they.' She said, 'yes.'”

Much of what is being done to stop coastal storm damage, headds, are “futile attempts to defeat the inevitable” that arewasting taxpayer money. He thinks of more immediate potentialremedies to save people, such as raising low-lying roads andimproving mass transit and electrical systems.