The late veteran anthropologist Jeremy Boissevain and Tom Selwyn hit the proverbial nail on its head when coining the title of this column in 2004 as a fitting prelude to a series of published essays on coastal urbanisation case studies from around the Mediterranean basin.

The Mediterranean was back then and still very much is the paragon of coastal urbanisation and development, as epitomised by the dire situation in a number of popular archipelagos, including the Balearic and Maltese ones.

For instance, in the preamble to one of the case study essays, the editors of this collection remind readers of the term ‘balearisation’, which they define as “the development of coasts, often achieved through rapid, unplanned building with all its associated social, environmental and political consequences”, adopted in response to the unbridled coastal development witnessed in the Balearic Islands in the 1960s and then subsequently observed through many other swathes of the Mediterranean.

By virtue of the rampant encroachment observed in the Maltese islands in the decades to follow the 1960s, improvised alternatives, such as ‘Maltisation’ or an even more esoteric ‘Melitensation’, could have been adopted to signify a rapid uptake of the foreshore. For instance, less than half of Malta’s 270km-long coastline is gently sloping, sporting a topography which enables direct human access to the sea.

Of this coastline, which is almost entirely restricted to the eastern half of the islands, over 96 per cent is committed to touristic, industrial or transportation uses, stymying public access.

The remaining cliff-dominated swathes of our coastline, constituting almost 60 per cent of its entire length and concentrated along the western seaboard of the islands, does not enjoy enfettered public access, given that private ownership or downright squatting, mainly for hunting and trapping purposes, are a frequent occurrence.

Consequently, despite the prodigious extent of our coastline – 270km – one can only embark on a continuous coastal walk without running into ‘caveats’ along a precious few stretches of the same coast.

The contest for the Maltese foreshore could not be as strident and cut-throat as it is today, with proposals for new yacht marinas, ferry terminals and tourist accommodation threatening to elbow the public ever more out of the coastal zone.

Analogous to the congested motorways on land, our coastal seas are increasingly snarling with vessel traffic, as the purchase of seacraft is increasingly being viewed as a distraction from the daily humdrum and grind. Scrambling for available berthing spaces is not a new phenomenon and is definitely not restricted to Maltese embayments, as a similar shortage of vessel berthing slots is experienced throughout a number of Mediterranean ports.

Hence, the impetus by Transport Malta to transform the Marsascala and Xemxija embayments into formal yacht marina facilities, catering for a combined total of 900 new berthing spaces, does not come as a surprise. The demand by boat owners is definitely there and we have been told that the concession for the Marsascala project alone has a value approaching €200 million.

As for marine environmental considerations, proponents of the two projects counter that the two embayments are already subject to deleterious impacts from the vessels which frequent the areas, including anchoring and discharges/effluents and that an environmental impact assessment (EIA) process would probably factor in projected impacts from such a development.

However, as aptly demonstrated by the passionate groundswell the Marsascala yacht marina proposal has attracted, there is more than meets the eye than a simple supply-demand relationship or environmental sensitivity considerations.

The social element, frequently overlooked within the EIA process, needs appropriate consideration when deliberating on whether to plough ahead with the Marsascala yacht marina plans or not given the importance the local community pegs to the amenity value of an uncluttered embayment.

The contest for the Maltese foreshore could not be as strident and cut-throat as it is today- Alan Deidun

Such a value, given its seemingly intangible nature, might pale in the face of the promised yacht marina economic spin-off; even through current economic valuation systems, the same value can probably be quantified and can be used as a compelling counter-argument not to develop the embayment.

The human element springs even more to the eye when considering the yawning gulf between the crie de coeur repeatedly expressed by Marsascala residents and the whimper of dissent expressed vis-à-vis the Xemxija plans. The latter is probably a result of the seasonality of residency at Xemxija, with many apartments left vacant during the non-bathing season, translating in the absence of a coherent, well-articulated opposition front.

The expansion of ferry berthing facilities within bathing waters (like at Balluta) is yet another example of the ongoing encroachment on coastal waters, promoting ‘formal’ uses (such as those associated with vessels) which necessitate the development of hard-standing infrastructure (say, pontoons) over informal, low-intensity ones (bathing).

Moving on to Gozo, the Planning Authority is poised to organise a site visit at Ħondoq ir-Rummien next week in order to assist its deliberations on a 19-year-long saga which is proposing the development of one of the few non-commercialised beaches on the islands.

The jostling and battle for space along the coast has never abated... only now, the urge to privatise has moved slightly offshore, given that the terrestrial fringe of the coast is largely developed.