Not So Much Trouble in Paradise: Are Coral Islands Really Doomed?

• Print
• E-Mail
• Feedback

Why this is the case becomes clear to the scientists when they explore another island. There are 600 people living on the tiny speck of land. Most are fishermen, and all are devout Muslims. When the scientists arrive, the inhabitants, wearing white caps, are hurrying to the mosque at the center of the island. The muezzin is calling the faithful to Friday prayers.

The scientists, meanwhile, are investigating the sins of civilization. "What kind of sea grass is this?" Kench asks the local environmental official, who smiles and shrugs his shoulders. The proliferating grass makes for an idyllic scene, its blades swaying back and forth with the motion of the waves. But the scientists know better. They speculate that nutrient-rich sewage is what makes the grass grow so rampantly. "It's an excellent fertilizer, ideal for the plants but bad for the atoll," says Webb.

Webb gives a brief open-air lecture on coastline management. "The sea grass intercepts the sand as it's flushed in from the coral reef," he says. As a result, the coral sand doesn't reach the beach, where it's needed to stabilize the island. "To protect the Maldives," Kench adds, "people have to refrain from doing all the things that hamper the natural growth of the islands."

'The Wheel of Time Can't Be Turned Back'

Breakwaters and quay walls, especially when they are too long, are detrimental because they block the path of the coral sand. Modern civilization, with its concrete buildings that are displacing traditional wooden huts on more and more islands in the Indian Ocean and Pacific, is not very compatible with the varied character of the islands. Resort hotels are also a problem. "But the wheel of time can't be turned back again," says Kench. For this reason, he suggests that protecting the beach shouldn't be the top priority. In the best-case scenario, the beach should continue to grow with the tides anyway.

"It would make more sense to build up the lower-lying interiors of the islands," says Kench. Those who insist on building there, he adds, should build their houses on stilts, "so that everything isn't destroyed when the island becomes flooded in a storm."

Naeem, the environmental official, listens impassively. He knows that the Maldives government has already taken other, more rigorous steps to secure the islands' future.

Plenty of Space

A speedboat takes the scientists to Hulhumalé, an island with an angular shape that has little in common with the shapes created by nature in the Indian Ocean. As they approach the island, they notice its steel sheet pile walls, which have a concrete crown. "Welcome to an artificial island," Naeem says proudly.

The scientists board a bus that takes them along wide asphalt streets, but there are no cars yet, only four-story apartment buildings painted in orange and green. All the buildings are neatly numbered, a suburban landscape with freshly planted palm trees.

The government intends to resettle families from the overpopulated main island, Malé, on Hulhumalé. But Naeem also anticipates an onslaught of new residents from remote atolls, of people who will succumb to the temptations of cooking in tiled kitchens and riding around on mopeds.

Of course, he adds, there will be plenty of space for all those whose land is in fact sinking. The island, created by engineers, can also grow -- not with the help of corals, but with cranes.

"If the water rises up to our necks," says Naeem, "we'll just raise the pile walls again."

• Back
• 1
• | 2
• | 3

• Part 1: Are Coral Islands Really Doomed?
• Part 2: 'Storms Are the Real Architects of the Islands'
• Part 3: The Sins of Civilization