NEW YORK _ Mud-colored steel pipes, as wide as three basketballs, snake along a barren section of beach in the New Jersey coastal town of Mantoloking.
They are the Jersey Shore's newest attraction _ and its last hope against the next Hurricane Sandy.
For nearly 24 hours a day, the pipes spew a steady stream of sand onto the shoreline, pumping it in from a dredging ship that sits more than two miles offshore.
The operation, launched earlier this month, is part of a long-awaited _ and still-divisive _ plan to bolster the coastline with supersized dunes and wider beaches.
"It gives me hope," says beachgoer Darlene Barley, as she wanders along the coast on a recent October afternoon to catch a glimpse of the pipes and heavy machinery. "But will it survive another major nor'easter or hurricane? Who knows?"
The Army Corps of Engineers project represents progress, but it also epitomizes the lingering fear that pervades this idyllic, 14-mile stretch of coastline five years after it was walloped by Sandy.
A total of 34 people died in the storm in New Jersey, and more than 350,000 homes sustained damage.
Dozens of mansions in Mantoloking were decimated as the sea swallowed up the town on the barrier island and carved an east-west trench that connected the ocean to the bay.
The storm reduced the Seaside Heights boardwalk, one of the area's economic engines, to a pile of waterlogged sticks and tossed the iconic Jet Star roller coaster into the sea, making it more symbolic in death than it ever was in life.
Perhaps nowhere suffered more devastation than Ortley Beach, where all but 60 of the 2,600 homes were damaged and 200 were destroyed.
The Daily News has chronicled the plight of one of Ortley's hardest-hit streets, Coolidge Ave., where only eight of 32 homes were rebuilt on the second anniversary of the storm.
Now, all but two of the lots contain new houses, many of them lifted 10 feet into the air.
"Thank God we're back in, because it was a disaster," said resident Josephine Lisica, 74, who borrowed money from her daughter to rebuild her house. The block, like many across the area, looks nothing like it did before Sandy. Gone are the quaint bungalows. In their place stand massive three- and four-story homes, some of them with boxy concrete foundations.
"The character _ it's gone," Lisica said.
Bill Mullen, 67, moved into his new home in March 2016. To pay for the two-story, 1,200-square-foot house, he was forced to pull $50,000 out of his savings to supplement the $150,000 federal grant he received. "It was an expensive hurricane," quipped Mullen, a retired social worker.
He rode out the storm at a friend's place, only to return home to discover the house his parents built in the 1950s had taken up residence nearly two blocks away. "I'm lucky," Mullen said. "Lucky to be alive."
The Jersey Shore's resurgence isn't seen only on Coolidge Ave.
After Sandy, the humble community of Vision Beach looked like it was struck by aerial bombs. Now, it's home to handsome houses that command prices well above $600,000.
"Look at the difference _ it's unbelievable," said resident Ray Zipfel, 59. "It's kind of a shame that it takes a tragedy like this, but it washes away all the old and now you have all brand-new."
Along the boardwalk in Seaside Heights and Seaside Park, all but 30 of the 170 businesses stricken by the storm _ and a subsequent massive fire _ were back in operation this summer.
"It's all good for us, and looking better every day," said Mike Loundy, the area's director of community improvements.
The $128 million Army Corps dredging project is designed to keep it that way.
The dredges will pump 11 million cubic yards of sand along the coastline, from the southern part of Point Pleasant Beach to Island Beach State Park.
The new and improved beaches, expected to be completed by the end of next year, will stretch up to 300 feet wide and feature dunes that top 22 feet.
Most of the residents in the area's vulnerable communities have been clamoring for the sandy bunker system.
Not everyone feels that way, though.
It took until this year for the project to get underway because of a pitched legal battle, sparked by beachfront homeowners in Bay Head and Mantoloking. They already have a 22-foot rock wall in place, and they want nothing to do with the mighty dunes.
"It's a waste of money that will wash away as the sand washes away," said Bay Head resident Thatcher Brown.
James Bradley, 66, sees it differently. He lives in a section of Point Pleasant just outside the zone of the Army Corps project.
"It's a great thing for those who are getting it, but what about people like us?" said Bradley, a railroad engineer. "I crap my pants every time we get a nor'easter."
Patrick Burke, 34, a surfer and former lifeguard who grew up in the area, isn't sold on the dune project. On a sunny afternoon, he stood on a wooden walkway a few blocks from the site and stared at the new patch of beach jutting out into the sea.
"I don't care if you build it a hundred feet high and a thousand feet long," he said. "A strong nor'easter is still going to cut through it like a hot knife through butter."
