*5.1. Sea-Level Rise*

In the climate change discourse, sea level rise is presented as a critical and imminent danger for Pacific Islanders. For instance, an article in the Island Sun read: "sea level rise is the biggest threat for the artificial islands now, as most of the man-made islands are now partially under-water even from normal high tides" [53]. However, the common assertion that climate change induced accelerated sea-level rise erodes the artificial islands and thereby forces people to relocate to the mainland confounds causes and effects. Over the past years, some artificial islands have indeed been abandoned, but this usually happened after its inhabitants relocated to the mainland. Thus, the abandonment of the islands leads to erosion; not the other way around. The islands require constant maintenance to avoid the collapse of the sea walls; when people no longer live on the islands, they slowly fall apart.

There is no doubt that the saltwater people are leaving the artificial islands. For example, in the 1970s, approximately 5500 people lived on the islands in Lau Lagoon [25,54]. The 2009 census recorded 3616 people in the lagoon [55]. It would, however, be erroneous to attribute this decline to sea-level rise. Malaria and tribal warfare, the main reasons to live on the artificial islands, are no longer acute and menacing threats. People have settled around the missions, schools, hospitals, and roads on the mainland, a process that started in the 1920s and has continued ever since. The saltwater people have also diversified their livelihoods: Many people have expanded their gardens and created cash crop plantations on the mainland. More recently, there has been an exodus of people to Honiara. Ben Buga and Veikila Vuki [56], for instance, estimate that 70% of the young people of Foueda, an artificial island in Lau Lagoon, have moved to the capital in search of jobs or to attend school.

Sea-level rise manifests itself primarily during king tides. Catherine Wilson [57], for example, writes that, on Raolo Island in Langalanga Lagoon: "the tides are getting higher, the waves come right across the island during the wet season." To some extent, this has always been the case. The Anglican missionary Walter Ivens [20], who travelled around Malaita between 1895 and 1909, for example, writes:

*"The islands are all built up to a height su*ffi*cient to keep out high spring-tides, and the only danger of flooding is in December and January, when the very high tides which then occur may be banked up in the lagoons by a strong north-east wind. At such times it is* not uncommon for the water to come into the houses, *but this is part of the life and nobody minds."*

### (emphasis added)

One problem with the sinking islands narrative is that it neglects such historical records. What seems to have changed over the past century is not so much the occurrence of flooding, but rather people's vulnerability to flooding: People have more goods, such as papers and electronics, that cannot become wet, and new buildings are often constructed with concrete and timber instead of sago stalks. Raolo Island is, in fact, an interesting case. Most households abandoned the artificial islet after cyclone Namu in 1986 and built a new settlement on the mainland. But during the ethnic conflict in the early 2000s, these people were forced to abandon their new village by Kwara'ae land owning clans. It illustrates the complex dynamics of settlement patterns on Malaita.

#### *5.2. Extreme Weather Events*

Few climate change effects capture the public imagination so much as extreme weather events. Climate change models in fact predict a substantial decrease in the total number of tropical cyclones in the Southwest Pacific, although the intensity of the remaining storms might increase [58]. Along the coast of Malaita, severe storms have destroyed entire islands. Tropical cyclone Angela, for example, caused a

9 m (!) storm surge that flooded the artificial islands in Langalanga in 1966 [59]. A year later, in 1967, cyclone Annie destroyed houses and coconut plantations in North Malaita, and in 1972, tropical cyclone Ida caused massive devastation in the province and encouraged landward migration [35]. Several artificial islands in Langalanga Lagoon, such as Rarata Island, were permanently abandoned after cyclone Namu in 1986, the worst tropical cyclone to have affected Solomon Islands on record (see Figure 7). It illustrates that tropical storms have always been an integral part of life for coastal communities in the archipelago [60]. In fact, cyclones also create opportunities: The village of Abitona in East Malaita was built on a sandbank created by a severe cyclone in the 1920s. The new land proved attractive to settle on, particularly as there were no existing land claims. Nowadays, the village is flooded by king tides in December and January, but whether this is a new phenomenon or caused by climate change, soil compaction, the cutting of mangroves, or a combination of these factors, remains unclear.

**Figure 7.** Rarata Island in Langalanga Lagoon (J. van der Ploeg, 2017).

Albert et al. [61] conclude that the erosion of reef islands in Solomon Islands results from a dynamic interplay of extreme weather events, plate tectonics, ocean currents, and anthropogenic factors, such as inappropriate infrastructural development, rather than climate change alone. Kwai Island on East Malaita provides a clear example of the convergence of multiple stressors:

*"The islands of Kwai and Ngongosila are feeling the e*ff*ects of increasingly severe weather and rising tides. (* ... *) Elders say they were once triple their current size. (* ... *) 'Kwai Island during our childhood days is a very beautiful place. There are huge trees in the island, where we also did gardening,' said Janet Logafe Billy, 70, who was born on Kwai and left for the mainland after getting married. Today, the island is transformed, (she) says. The big banyan trees by the shores are gone, which has resulted in soil erosion."* [62]

A geological survey in 1990 concluded that, during the northwestern monsoon winds from September to March, the so-called koburu, currents are eating away the eastern side of Kwai Island [63]. Most of the sand is trapped at the southern part of the island, a process that is reversed during the ara season when the wind blows from the southeast. Overall, the island has not changed significantly in size since the 1960s. But nowadays there are more permanent houses on the island, which has led to deforestation. Whereas the island was covered with forest in the 1960s, there are now virtually no more trees on the island. Particularly, the cutting of large dalo trees (*Calophyllum inophyllum*) along the shoreline for firewood and to make space for houses seems to have worsened the coastal erosion problem.
