During a visit last weekend to Climping Beach in West Sussex, I was reminded just how delicate our coastline really is. What began as a simple beach walk turned into a moment of reflection on how we’re constantly trying to balance protecting our shoreline with letting nature take its course. Climping, with its shifting shingle and weathered defences, tells that story beautifully.
Last weekend, I found myself standing on Climping Beach in West Sussex, a place I’ve visited many times before, but this time, it felt different. It’s one of those stretches of coastline that now feels wild, where the sea seems to have more of a say than the people who come to walk their dogs. The beach I remembered had shifted, the coast path gone, reshaped by the tides. Wooden groynes broken or gone, and parts of the shingle bank had slipped away, exposing the nearby fields.
As I walked, I couldn’t help thinking about how much energy and effort we put into holding the line, building sea walls, rock armour, groynes, repositioning pebbles and sand to protect our coastlines. These defences, though vital in some areas, always come with trade-offs. They often protect one stretch of beach but can then push the problem further along the coast. The power of the waves doesn’t just stop, it simply finds another way.
That’s the contradiction of coastal defences. When we build barriers to protect one community, we sometimes expose another to greater risk. At Climping, you can see this delicate balance at play. For instance, in this case, you have to ask the question about the rock islands at Elmer and Middleton-on-Sea. They might keep the land behind them protected, but do they increase the forces further down the coast at Climping? The result? Erosion speeds up where the sea isn’t being held back.
Standing on the beach, you start to wonder, should we always try to fight nature? Or is there wisdom in stepping back and letting the coastline reshape itself, as it has done for thousands of years?
Of course, it’s not a simple choice. For people living close to the sea, “managed retreat” can sound like surrender. Homes, livelihoods, and memories are tied to these places. Yet, as the climate changes and sea levels rise, our relationship with the coast will need to change, too. Rather than seeing erosion purely as loss, we may begin to see it as transformation, a reminder that nature moves at its own pace, whether we build defences or not.
So next time you’re walking along a beach like Climping, take a moment to notice the patterns, the sand and shingle banks, the battered old groynes, the new shapes carved by the tide. Every detail tells a story of movement, of resilience, and of how we humans fit into that ever-changing edge between land and sea.
What You Can Do
If you’re curious about coastal change, there are plenty of small ways to get involved:
- Visit responsibly. Stick to marked paths and avoid climbing on sea defences or fragile dunes, as every step does matter.
- Learn the local story. Many coastal villages and visitor centres share fascinating insights about their own battles with the sea.
- Support coastal monitoring projects. Groups like the Coastal Partnership Network and the National Trust often run schemes where volunteers help record erosion and beach movement.
- Start the conversation. Whether you live by the sea or inland, understanding the balance between protection and natural change helps us all make better choices for the future.
The coast is never still, and that’s part of its magic. By learning from it, respecting it, and adapting alongside it, we can help ensure that places like Climping remain wild, beautiful, and alive for generations to come.