If My Land Gets Eaten by the Ocean… Do I Still Own It?
- Tutone Maka

- May 6
- 4 min read
Updated: May 7
A Legal Drama from the Frontlines of Climate Change in the Marshall Islands
1. The Tide That Took Rito’s Backyard
Every morning, Rito would sweep the soft coral sand in front of his house on Ailinglaplap Atoll. It was a ritual, passed down from his grandmother. Each sweep was a claim: This is mine. This is ours.

His grandchildren would laugh and run barefoot behind him, their tiny feet erasing the lines he drew. To Rito, those lines weren’t just physical—they were boundaries between generations, between memory and change, between permanence and the rising tide.
But this morning, the sea had crept closer than ever. The pandanus tree that once shaded his grandchildren had toppled. The seawall, patched so many times it looked like a mosaic, now lay scattered like puzzle pieces. A familiar sting filled the air—not just salt, but sorrow.
He remembered the words of his uncle, long gone now: “Land is not just ground. It’s breath. It’s our bones.”
Rito stood in silence. Not just mourning a tree. But wondering, with aching clarity: If the land disappears, what happens to our rights?
2. Customary Land Law: What Makes It 'Yours'?
In the Marshall Islands, land isn’t bought and sold like in other countries. It is inherited, protected, and lived on according to custom. Families trace lineage through the mother’s side, and land passes through generations via roles like:
Iroij (chief)
Alap (clan head)
Dri jerbal (worker/caretaker)
When a dispute arises, the answer isn't always written down. It’s remembered.
But the ocean doesn’t care about memory.
3. The Legal Gray Area of Submerged Land
Under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), sovereignty and territorial claims depend on physical land presence. If an island submerges permanently, its territorial waters and even legal status can come into question.
For Rito and his family, that means:
No more physical land = no more enforceable land title
Customary claims become unenforceable if there's nothing left to claim
Any registered lease or use rights dissolve with the land
4. What Happens When the Land Is Half Gone?
Let’s say Rito’s family land is partially submerged, with half still standing. Here’s what could happen:
Customary rights remain intact on the remaining land, but new disputes often arise over what part belongs to whom.
Courts may step in to redefine boundaries or determine fair access if families disagree.
Survey markers are often destroyed, creating legal uncertainty.
In such cases, the High Court may rely on:
Historic aerial photos
Customary witness testimony
Past lease records
But none of these are foolproof.
5. Rito's Dilemma: Move or Stay?
After losing part of his land, Rito is offered relocation support through a government climate adaptation fund. His son, who works at the weather station in Majuro, urges him to take it. His daughter, now a teacher in Hawaii, says they’ll help him build a new house.
But moving would mean:
Giving up ancestral land
Leaving behind family graves
Losing his role as an alap in his village
There’s no easy option. If he moves, he may protect his family from future floods—but he leaves behind a thousand years of rootedness. If he stays, he may preserve the land’s spirit—but risk the safety and legal recognition of his descendants.
Rito meets with a legal advisor who explains:
“You can relocate your family, but you can’t relocate your title. Once the land is gone, so is the authority that came with it.”
That’s the paradox: Save your family, or lose your legacy.
Rito sits beside the leaning breadfruit tree one evening and speaks to his grandson. "One day, this land might not be here. But if you remember its name, its stories, its path to the sea—you’ll still own something they can’t wash away."
6. The International Fight for Recognition
The RMI government is working to preserve legal sovereignty even if some islands disappear. This involves:
Advocating for "deterritorialized statehood" (where a nation can exist without physical territory)
Securing digitized land records and historic claims for future enforcement
Negotiating climate justice provisions in international forums
In 2022, the RMI filed legal memoranda with the United Nations seeking affirmation that submerged lands do not cancel sovereignty.
7. Possible Legal Solutions
Some emerging legal tools and strategies include:
Floating Titles: Legal recognition that customary land rights continue based on historical connection, even if submerged
Trust Land Banks: Government-controlled land held in trust for displaced families
Community Resettlement Frameworks: Where traditional titles can be re-established in new locations
Cross-border Land Agreements: Like the 2003 Compact of Free Association, which provides Marshallese people access to the U.S., similar models may protect land claims across borders.
8. The Future: Adaptation, Not Abandonment
Rito decides to stay a while longer. He builds a raised platform for his house, installs a second-hand rainwater tank, and files for a digitized lease record with the Ministry of Internal Affairs.
His grandchildren help plant mangroves along the shore. He teaches them the chant that names the original boundaries of their weto.
"Even if the land is eaten, our story remains. And that, too, is a kind of ownership."
Conclusion: What the Law Can't Wash Away
The question of land disappearing into the sea is no longer theoretical. It’s happening now.
For the people of the Marshall Islands, legal recognition is important—but cultural continuity is essential. Lawyers, legislators, and leaders must work together to create systems that honor both.
Because even if a plot of land sinks beneath the waves, the people, the rights, and the stories anchored to it must not be lost.
Need legal guidance on land and climate issues? Contact Marsol Lawyers & Consultants today.
Note: This blog includes fictionalized scenarios for educational purposes. Marsol Lawyers & Consultants does not represent the individuals described.



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