by The Maldives is facing an existential crisis: within just one century, most of this archipelago of 1,192 tropical islands – popular with honeymooners and luxury seekers alike – will be -barefoot – worn out by the sea.
Already, warning lights are flashing. More than 80 percent of the Indian Ocean nation, famed for its pristine white sands and blue lagoons, is less than one meter above current sea level. Add to this the fact that the encroaching waves have destroyed precious sources of fresh drinking water (meaning that most of the 187 inhabited islands rely on expensive – and often mindless – desalination plants), and it looks desperate on courses.
Of course, in desperate times come desperate measures. In 2008, former president Mohamed Nasheed warned that the country would have to “look for other places to live” – perhaps going the same way as Tuvalu, a low-lying country in the South Pacific, which on a recent agreement. Australia to live again some of its citizens.
But the situation now seems to be changing: the people of the Maldives have decided to fight back, and to be – in the negative words of their new leader, President Mohamed Muizzu – “self-sufficient” in their response.
On the one hand, this has come in the form of sustainability practices – especially from Maldives hotels. The Four Seasons Landaa Giraavaru, for example, has one of the largest solar installations in the country, which is large enough to save 300,000 liters of diesel per year and prevent 800 tons of carbon dioxide emissions , equivalent to over 500 flights between London and Malé.
Another five-star resort, Fairmont Maldives Sirru Fen Fushi, now uses generator heat to produce the island’s hot water, and recently the Maldives’ Kudadoo Private Island became the first solar-powered resort, thanks to nearly 1,000 solar panels that covering his forehead. Many hotels are trying to reduce their food miles by developing alternatives grown on the islands. Amilla, for example, has its own mushroom hut, coconut processing facilities, banana plantation and hydroponic garden.
But with nearly all of the Maldives’ hotels now claiming to be sustainable – and the country’s tourism industry still ultimately dependent on long-haul flights – it’s clear that green credentials alone are not enough.
So the Maldivians have brought out the big guns – taking inspiration from the densely populated capital Malé, home to over 130,000 people per square mile, which was walled off like a fortress a few years ago. Built with concrete blocks and rubble, mostly imported from Indonesia since the Maldives are coral islands, the tallest stands at just over 10 feet. And they’ve already proven their worth: when the Indian Ocean tsunami hit in 2004, the swell was about two feet below the top of the barriers. Now, various other islands – including Mahibadhoo – have benefited from similar constructions, occasionally to the disdain of tourists displeased by the disturbed views.
And these new measures do not end with concrete barriers: completely new islands have been created by pumping sand onto underwater coral platforms. One such island, Hulhumalé in the Kaafu Atoll, is a 1.5 square mile man-made domain that currently has more than 50,000 residents, but is expected to house 240,000 within the next few years. Unlike the congested capital, the streets here were designed to optimize wind penetration, reducing the need for air conditioning. Schools, parks and mosques were also built within a 600 foot walk of residential developments, to help reduce car use.
And the future looks set to see even more extreme solutions, with the construction of the Maldives Swimming City, the first project of its kind in the world: a development of more than 500 acres that will support 5,000 low-rise homes and have space there for 20,000 people. . Crossed by canals and white sand trails, it will be a car-free neighborhood where only bicycles, electric buggies and scooters can do business. As an added incentive, tourists who buy houses there will be allowed to apply for a Residence Permit in the Maldives.
But the situation is changing fast, and it may not be long before every pristine atoll is forced to call itself a fortress-like concrete, or until a search along the shallows leads to floating platforms. And when they do, will the tourists of the world abandon this former ideal in favor of the next natural nirvana? Only time will tell.
