Most people are unaware of the existence of the small nation of Tuvalu, a nine-island archipelago in the South Pacific 1000 km north of Fiji and 4000 km east of Australia. Given its minuscule size and remote location, this is hardly surprising.

Yet the 11,000 inhabitants of Tuvalu face a huge dilemma: how to ensure the survival of their nation. The threat to Tuvalu comes not from bellicose neighbors but from natural surroundings: it is estimated that within 50 years, Tuvalu will be swallowed by the sea.

At its highest point, Tuvalu rises only 4.5 meters above sea level, and its average elevation is a scant one meter. When taken together with estimates of rising ocean levels, these figures do not bode well for the future of the islands. Enele Sopoaga, Tuvalu’s ambassador to Fiji, stated in 1999 that sea levels will rise more than one foot, and possibly more than three feet, within the next century. He linked these rising levels to melting polar ice caps as the global climate shifts towards warmer temperatures. This threat became clear in 1992 when Tuvalu’s Prime Minister Bikenibeu Paeniu announced that his island nation would be “the world’s first victim of climate change.” Since then, Tuvalu has already begun to see the effects of rising sea levels. Paani Laupepa, acting assistant secretary at the Ministry for Natural Resources and the Environment, lamented that, “The islands are full of holes and sea water is coming through these, flooding areas that weren’t flooded 10 or 15 years ago.” The Tuvaluans’ plight, it seems, is set only to worsen.

Nor does the international community disagree with the worries of Tuvaluans. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change expects ocean levels to rise between 20 cm and 90 cm this century. Despite this generally-held scientific consensus, there are those who argue against such estimates; one study in particular claims to find no evidence of rising ocean levels. Wolfgang Scherer, director of Australia’s National Tidal Facility (NTF) at Flinders University, contends that “the data does not support any sea-level rise at all.” He bases this on data collected from tide gauges installed across the Pacific in the past 10 years, including a gauge at Funafuti, Tuvalu’s capital. “The short-term sea-level rise analyses… [show] no change in the average sea level over the period of record.” Scherer dismisses the Tuvaluans’ fears by observing that “when you live there on a day-to-day basis, you do have water lapping at your feet, when you have storm surges coming through it is not a very comfortable experience”; nonetheless, he does not believe that this supports the notion of a sinking island. Defenders of Tuvalu respond that the gauge has not even been in Tuvalu for a decade and thus has not had time to accurately record rising sea levels. Peter Bennetts, an Australian photographer who has taken on Tuvalu’s cause, believes that “the NTF reads the gauge and the results are interpreted by or to suit Canberra.” Despite those opposing the views of Tuvalu’s government, the general opinion is that Tuvalu does face a real problem.

Already, Tuvalu has seen severe lowland flooding, and it is probable that encroachment has claimed 1 percent of the 62 square km representing the entire land area of the archipelago. Furthermore, saltwater intrusion into its aquifers adversely affects drinking-water purity and food-production capabilities. Increased soil salinity will hurt local plant life and may threaten the nation’s chief export of dried coconut meat. However, the most serious threat is that the islands may end up underwater.

Given this problem, what options does Tuvalu have? Most likely, Tuvaluans will evacuate as rising sea levels pose more of a threat. Although the Tuvalu deputy secretary to government, Simeti Lopati, announced that “we are not leaving Tuvalu just yet,” it is likely that the islands will be abandoned if sea levels continue to rise, as most of Tuvalu’s officials agree. The real question is, where will the 11,000-strong population go? One alternative is mass migration to a nearby nation; Tuvaluan officials have approached a number of governments to begin dialogues on a contingency plan to take in Tuvaluans. Australia balked at the prospect of accepting the entire population of Tuvalu. Australian Immigration Minister Philip Ruddock said that Tuvaluans wishing to move to Australia should go through normal immigration channels, since the population is not currently at risk. New Zealand provided a slightly more sympathetic answer, saying that they would consider taking in Tuvaluans, and might agree to accept a limited number annually, but that it could make no promises. Talks are also rumored, regarding the purchase of a sizeable tract of land in Fiji where the Tuvaluans could move in the future.

The bright side to this unusual environmental plight is that Tuvalu has funds to make such provisions for itself. Tuvalu received the country domain name extension .tv when Internet addresses were being handed out, and this luck has given Tuvalu financial solvency. The US company dotTV bought the rights to the .tv extension, promising the government of Tuvalu (which has never seen the Internet) US$50 million over 10 years as well as a 20 percent share in the company. As of September 2001, almost 500,000 .tv addresses had been sold, and the demand is not waning. With money already received, Tuvalu paid its UN membership fee, making it the last country besides Palau to join. The government has also been able to better provide for its people. Paradoxically, this money being invested in Tuvalu might also be needed to finance abandonment of their island.

While the Kyoto Protocol on reducing greenhouse gas emissions, meant to reduce such problems as climactic shifts and rising oceans, may have been redeemed in Bonn over the summer of 2001, the threat facing Tuvalu is not likely to be ameliorated. However, such measures will be key in ensuring that such dilemmas do not face other island nations in the future. In the foreword to “Time and Tide: The Islands of Tuvalu” (Lonely Planet), Tuvaluan Prime Minister Faimalalga Luka contemplates, “The future of Tuvalu is uncertain. Will our land, so obviously at risk, vanish?” For now, at least, there is no real answer.