As the first true days of summer arrive in Greece—ushered in by salt-laced breezes, the hum of cicadas, and families returning to beloved beaches—this year’s season begins under the shadow of urgent ecological reckoning. June 8 marks World Ocean Day, a global reminder that while the sea gives us life, beauty, and identity, it also demands our protection.
In this special feature, we explore the fragile threshold where land and water meet. Greece’s coastlines—once postcard-perfect icons of paradise—are vanishing at an alarming rate, eroded by a storm of climate change, poor planning, and unsustainable development. Around the world, the ocean’s alarm bells are louder still: coral reefs from the Great Barrier to the Red Sea are bleaching beyond recovery in the planet’s hottest year on record.
Yet, amid the crisis, there is hope. In the eastern Aegean, Greece has declared its first protected deep-sea coral forest, a marine sanctuary born from the union of science and local knowledge.
Together, these stories trace a single, unbroken thread: the urgent need to safeguard the sea, not just for its beauty, but for its power to sustain life, culture, and a livable future.
What’s Eating Greece’s Coastlines — and 25 Billion Euros
By Machi Tratsa
From the lush wetlands of the Evros River in the northeast to the sun-soaked shores of Crete in the south, and from the idyllic Dodecanese islands to the rugged coastline of the western Peloponnese, Greece’s most iconic beaches are vanishing. Slowly but surely, the sea is swallowing homes, roads, and entire stretches of coastline.
Behind this creeping catastrophe lies a triple threat: climate change, haphazard tourism development, and shoddy, often rushed coastal infrastructure built more for political ribbon-cutting than lasting stability.
According to a sweeping study underway by the Natural Disaster Research Center of the Academy of Athens, roughly 70% of Greece’s coastlines are either eroding or already significantly eroded.
The Disappearing Shores of Paradise
Once-pristine beaches — like Soroni and Afantou on Rhodes, Platanias and Agia Marina in Crete’s Chania Bay, Nea Mesangala in northern Thessaly, or the western Achaea beaches of Vrachnaiika and Tsoukalaiika — are shrinking year after year.
Even remote, so-called “virgin” beaches like Falasarna in Crete are not immune. “Coastal erosion is now widespread, even in areas that were untouched until recently,” says Dr. Costas Synolakis, a prominent academic and professor at the University of Southern California.
Greek beaches are not just postcard material. They’re a natural asset of immense value — ecologically, socially, and economically. “They offer natural protection against storms, preserve biodiversity, and contribute to residents’ quality of life,” Synolakis notes. “But they’re also a pillar of the country’s tourism industry.”
That’s where the real economic pain begins.
A Billion-Euro Problem — Every Year
The economic toll of beach erosion is staggering. On the island of Rhodes, a single beach can host one visitor per square meter, bringing in €10 daily per person, just from umbrellas and drinks. At peak season, that number can triple with tourist turnover.
In Rethymno, Crete, beaches in front of luxury hotels have been estimated to generate up to €65 per square meter daily, with an average of €18.50. Adjusted for inflation, today’s estimates sit around €24 for Rethymno and €13 for Rhodes — every day, per square meter.
Extrapolate that over thousands of beaches, and the losses climb fast. Scientists estimate that erosion is costing Greece over €1 billion per year. And the trend is accelerating. Within a decade, the total cost could exceed €25 billion, warns Synolakis.
And that’s without factoring in rising sea levels or the lost ecosystem services — like natural flood protection — that these coastal environments provide.
What’s Driving the Erosion?
It’s not just the climate. Greece’s coasts are under siege from multiple fronts:
- Illegal sand mining
- Unregulated construction
- Poorly planned coastal roads
- Haphazard harbor projects
“Many ports were built with no data on sea currents, wave height, or sediment movement,” says Synolakis. In one particularly egregious case in Crete, beach erosion caused homes to collapse into the sea. The developer blamed a faulty study; the marine engineer said his study wasn’t followed.
The result? The same public agencies re-commissioned a new study — at enormous cost — and began planning another oversized, concrete-heavy project. “No one was ever held accountable for the failure that robbed locals of their beach — and its economic value — for nearly 20 years.”
Corinth’s Crumbling Coastline
One of the hardest-hit areas is the Corinthian Gulf, especially the stretch between Corinth and Xylokastro. In places like the municipality of Xylokastro-Evrostini, the sea has advanced so far inland that it’s reached the front steps of people’s homes, threatening vital infrastructure.
A sign warns drivers of a road closure due to damaged pavement at the old national highway between Corinth and Patras, caused by coastal erosion along the Corinthian Gulf, Sunday, July 20, 2014.
Just two months ago, a section of the old coastal highway connecting Corinth and Patras collapsed beneath a passing bus — a near-miss that could’ve ended in tragedy.
In response, Greece’s Ministry of Shipping is pushing a €54 million coastal protection plan for the area through the EU-funded NSRF National Strategic Reference Framework (NSRF). But funds are tight. The Peloponnese Region has stepped in with an additional €16 million, prioritizing the most urgent erosion zones. If all goes according to plan, construction could begin by early 2026.
The Wrong Kind of Fix
But here’s the catch: the go-to solution remains massive cement-and-rock structures — so-called “hard” engineering projects.
“These kinds of fixes don’t solve erosion in the long run,” says Synolakis. “In fact, they often make it worse for neighboring beaches.” He criticizes the environmental impact assessments for rarely considering natural or less invasive alternatives.
And there’s another issue: climate change. Rising sea levels are expected to render most of these hard defenses ineffective within 20 years.
A Better Way: Beach Nourishment
There is a better, cheaper, and more sustainable solution — but it’s almost never used in Greece. It’s called beach nourishment: sand is dredged from deeper waters (15+ meters) and used to rebuild eroded beaches.
“It’s common practice in places like California, Hawaii, Florida, Japan, Australia, Spain, Italy, and even Turkey,” Synolakis explains. “Greece is the only Mediterranean EU country that doesn’t use it — mostly due to ignorance and entrenched interests in concrete mega-projects.”
Worse still, nourishment costs one-fifth as much as hard construction.
The Clock Is Ticking
Greece’s beaches aren’t just fading — they’re being sacrificed on the altar of short-term profits, political inertia, and poor planning.
Without a national coastal policy focused on sustainable solutions, Greece risks losing not only its most iconic natural landscapes, but also a critical driver of its economy — and a buffer against the mounting impacts of climate change.
“This isn’t just about sand and sea,” Synolakis says. “It’s about the long-term survival of the country’s coastlines — and its future.”
Hidden Coral Forests of the Aegean
By Vassilis Kyriakoulis
For generations, the coastal fishermen of Fournoi Korseon—a cluster of small, wind-swept islands in the eastern Aegean—hauled more than fish from the sea. Entangled in their nets and longlines, they often found fragments of coral. They called it tragána, a local term for the hard, colorful structures that clung to the seabed like secrets waiting to be uncovered.
These coral remnants, now displayed like trophies in fishermen’s homes and island tavernas, were once thought to be nothing more than curiosities. But what they pointed to was a revelation—one that would take thousands of hours of underwater observation, years of grassroots advocacy, and an unlikely alliance between local knowledge and scientific research to uncover.
Pier and a traditional fishing boat in the harbour of Fournoi island, Greece.
Today, Fournoi is home to the first protected coral ecosystem in Greece, a rare marine sanctuary teeming with vibrant red gorgonians and elusive black coral.
A Hidden Forest in the Mesophotic Zone
“I’ve been on these waters since I was a boy,” says 68-year-old Michalis Manousakis, a seasoned fisherman from Fournoi. “I knew the sea floor was different in some places—richer, more alive. When researchers came asking about coral, I had no hesitation. I showed them everything I knew.”
Manousakis wasn’t exaggerating. His insights helped scientists locate one of the Mediterranean’s most pristine coral forests, nestled deep in what’s known as the mesophotic zone—a twilight world 60 to 150 meters beneath the surface, where sunlight barely filters in.
What researchers found stunned them. “It’s a unique habitat,” says Dr. Lorenzo Bramanti, a marine biologist with France’s National Centre for Scientific Research (CNRS). “It’s formed by two structurally important species—Paramuricea clavata (red gorgonian) and Antipathella subpinnata (black coral). While these species aren’t rare in the Mediterranean, their populations in Fournoi are exceptionally dense, healthy, and abundant.”
Part of what makes the Fournoi reef so resilient is its depth. Situated well below the reach of recreational divers and casual anchoring, these underwater forests have, so far, escaped the warming waters that have devastated coral colonies across the Mediterranean.
Nature’s Architects: The Secret Life of Coral
Corals, contrary to popular belief, aren’t rocks or plants. They’re living animal colonies, composed of tiny, genetically identical polyps that build vast underwater structures over decades, even centuries.
“Each colony begins from a single fertilized egg,” explains Anastasia Miliou, Scientific Director of the Archipelagos Institute of Marine Conservation, which has been conducting research in the area for over 20 years. “But the polyps take on specialized roles—some gather food, others defend the colony.”
Soft corals like sea pens can even move across the ocean floor in search of better conditions. “This kind of coordination and adaptation is what makes coral ecosystems so remarkable,” says Miliou. “They support more than 1,800 species. They’re the beating heart of our seas.”
A Victory—But Still Under Threat
Thanks to the tireless work of local fishermen, marine scientists, and environmental groups, the Fournoi coral ecosystem has now been formally designated a protected marine area, with a specific ban on bottom trawling—a destructive fishing method that drags heavy nets across the seafloor, obliterating everything in their path.
To local fishermen like 74-year-old Markos Grammatikos, president of the Fournoi Fishing Association, this decision is both long-overdue and vital for the community’s future.
“Bottom trawlers ruin the seabed. It’s like plowing a field with a bulldozer,” he says. “They destroy living habitats. This protection gives us hope. Right now, our catches are shrinking. Young people are leaving the trade. But if the sea recovers, maybe we can start again.”
The Bottom Trawler Dilemma
While environmentalists hail the new protections, not everyone in the fishing industry agrees. Some trawler operators argue that their livelihoods are at risk.
“From the day the bottom trawlers stop, prices double,” says 53-year-old Manolis Kardamylis, a trawler owner from a fishing port near Thessaloniki. “The cod we catch sets the price in the market. Without trawlers, even common fish become unaffordable.”
Kardamylis claims that Greece already has some of the strictest fishing regulations in the Med. “Decisions are made in offices, without consulting us—the people who live this reality every day. And most of those decisions backfire.”
The World’s Coral Reefs Are Dying — And This Time, They May Not Recover
By Vangelis Pratikakis
Imagine a natural wonder stretching across an area more than twice the size of Greece—344,000 square kilometers of vibrant marine life, colorful biodiversity, and ecological brilliance. That’s the Great Barrier Reef. And right now, it’s dying—along with over 80% of the world’s coral reefs.
The world is witnessing the most severe coral bleaching event ever recorded, a crisis unfolding across tropical oceans with relentless intensity since early 2024. According to the International Coral Reef Initiative (ICRI)—a global coalition of over 100 governments, NGOs, and scientific bodies—this is the fourth and most devastating bleaching event in history.
And this time, recovery may not be possible.
What’s Happening to the Corals?
At the heart of this catastrophe lies a microscopic relationship between coral polyps and tiny, colorful algae known as zooxanthellae. These algae live inside the coral’s tissue, giving reefs their iconic color and—more importantly—providing essential nutrients through photosynthesis.
But when ocean temperatures spike, this delicate partnership collapses. The algae flee. The coral turns ghostly white—bleached—a sign of extreme thermal stress. If the algae don’t return quickly, the coral starves to death.
And now, this is happening almost everywhere.
By March 2024, 84% of coral reefs worldwide had experienced heat stress levels typically associated with bleaching. The destruction is being recorded from Australia’s iconic Great Barrier Reef, to the Caribbean, to the historically resilient Red Sea.
A Marine Apocalypse in Real Time
This year is already the hottest on record, and 2024’s marine heatwaves have tripled the previous record. Contributing to the crisis was the El Niño phenomenon, a natural event that elevates sea temperatures in the tropical Pacific. A cooling La Niña pattern briefly emerged in December 2024—but it lasted just three months, far too short to offer relief.
This latest global bleaching event surpasses previous episodes in 1998, 2010, and 2014–2017, which impacted anywhere from 21% to 68% of global reefs. But the current one dwarfs them all—not just in scale, but in severity and potential permanence.
Marine scientists now fear that the oceans may never cool enough again for corals to fully recover. That fear is no longer theoretical.
What We Stand to Lose
Coral reefs aren’t just postcard-perfect diving spots—they’re the rainforests of the sea. They support 25% of all marine species, despite covering less than 1% of the ocean floor.
They also protect coastlines from erosion, sustain the livelihoods of millions through fishing and tourism, and serve as underwater pharmacies—many drugs used today, including those for cancer and pain management, are derived from reef organisms.
Their collapse is not just an ecological tragedy. It’s a humanitarian and economic one.
The Clock Is Ticking
What makes this crisis particularly devastating is its irreversibility. Coral bleaching isn’t like a hurricane or an oil spill—you can’t just rebuild what’s lost. Reefs take decades to grow and minutes to die when the water gets too warm.
And now, many are being exposed to back–to–back heatwaves, offering no time for recovery.
The reefs that do manage to survive this global trauma may never return to their former glory. For countless others, it’s already too late.
One Ocean, One Future
As countries debate climate policy in air-conditioned conference halls, the ocean is burning. The Great Barrier Reef—one of Earth’s greatest natural wonders, visible from space—is bleaching again, this time across vast stretches.
In just a few short decades, we’ve brought the most productive marine ecosystems on the planet to the edge of collapse.
What’s happening beneath the waves is not out of sight or out of mind. It’s a warning. One that’s getting louder with every warming tide.
