As an island nation, the UK is particularly susceptible to coastal erosion. And with rising seas and increasingly ferocious storms, that is only set to get worse. Indeed, some areas along the Norfolk coast are already losing 6.6 feet (2m) of coastline each year to the sea, sometimes taking entire villages with it.
Read on to see dramatic before and after images of what the UK has already lost to coastal erosion...
Coastal erosion is nothing new to the Scottish university town of St Andrews and its esteemed golf course, the Royal and Ancient (R and A). Photos from the 19th century show golfers putting only metres from the beach and the R and A was quick to realise that a barrier was needed to protect the course – and the clubhouse – from tidal surges. This photo taken in 1866 shows just how close the links, marked by the brick wall, were to the ever-shifting West Sands.
Work on a protective barrier began in 1893. Local town councillor and property developer George Bruce constructed the embankment by using stones as a foundation and then piling old herring drifters on top. The embankment has been improved and refined since (pictured), but with climate experts predicting that parts of the golf course could be under water in less than 30 years, more needs to be done. To that end the R and A has been acquiring land, as well as undertaking extensive dune restoration work to protect its precious course.
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In medieval times, the tiny Suffolk village of Dunwich was a thriving port with six churches, three chapels, a Franciscan monastery and a population of close to 4,000 people. Much of the town was swallowed by the sea during a huge storm in 1286 and today only a small settlement remains. A new friary was built about half a mile (800m) inland, but as you can see from this photo taken in 1908, it too was abandoned as storms, surges and coastal erosion soon saw it sitting on the edge of a crumbling cliff as well.
The coastline at Dunwich is made up of soft rock that is easily eroded by the sea. Its narrow beach means that waves crash at the base of the cliffs resulting in up to 3.3 feet (1m) of erosion each year, making it one of the fastest eroding coastlines in Europe. So much of the settlement now lies in the sea that Dunwich is known by some as 'Britain's Atlantis'. Some locals even claim that on a stormy night you can hear the bells of submerged medieval churches ringing.
When the railway came to Great Yarmouth in 1844, it brought huge numbers of visitors to this corner of the Norfolk coast. Victorian holidaymakers were soon flocking to the sandy beaches of nearby Hemsby, turning this tiny agricultural village into a popular seaside resort. By the 1930s, holidays operated by the likes of Butlin's were offering affordable getaways to working-class families. After the Second World War, amusement arcades, fun parks, caravan parks and holiday chalets were being built closer and closer to the sea (pictured).
A massive storm surge in December 2013 highlighted the village’s vulnerability to coastal erosion, with seven homes destroyed by the crumbling cliffs. When the notorious 'Beast from the East' storm struck in March 2018 another 13 cliff top homes were lost and the seafront area known as The Marrams was declared uninhabitable. Another storm on 11 December 2023 saw a private access road collapse, prompting the local council to demolish even more buildings (pictured). Homeowners are being offered plots of land further inland but fear they are trapped in a 'soul-destroying' cycle of coastal erosion.
Legend has it that this mysterious bridge in Belhaven Bay in East Lothian was originally made from stone and built by a wealthy local so his daughters could cross the Biel Water river to reach the beach on the other side. The original bridge was washed away by a storm, with the current bridge built on its foundations. The landmark offers access to the golden sands of Belhaven Beach to generations of holidaymakers and locals from the nearby village of Dunbar.
In recent years many beaches along the East Lothian coast, including Belhaven Bay, have suffered significant amounts of erosion. Some reports suggest that the coastal edge has retreated by some 148 feet (45m) since 1854. Along with shifting sand spits and changing tidal patterns, this has seen Belhaven Bridge become almost completely submerged during high tide and earned it the moniker of 'The Bridge to Nowhere'. Even at low tide large boulders have been exposed by erosion, making it difficult for people to navigate a safe route to the bridge and the beach beyond.
Skipsea overlooks the North Sea on the East Yorkshire coast and has always been considered a more relaxing seaside alternative to its busier neighbours Bridlington and Hornsea. This photo taken in the 1940s shows holidaymakers enjoying the vast expanse of Skipsea Sands, a popular place for beachcombing, leisurely walks and soaking up the dramatic views of the East Yorkshire coast. Fossicking in the crumbling cliffs was popular too, with the dislodged rocks often offering up a fossil dating back to prehistoric times.
Those same crumbling cliffs, made from soft boulder clay, means that the coast here suffers the highest rate of erosion in Europe, a staggering 13 feet (4m) a year. A combination of stormy weather and rising sea levels in 2020 saw 33 feet (10m) of cliff disappear in just nine months, prompting experts to predict that the entire village could tumble into the North Sea altogether unless drastic action was taken. Sadly, its population of only 700 means larger urban areas and important industrial sites along this stretch of coast are being prioritised.
The picturesque village of Happisburgh on Norfolk’s North Sea coast has always had a problem with erosion. Built on soft sandy rock, records show that it lost 820 feet (250m) of land to sea between 1600 and 1850 alone. Climate change and an increase in the intensity of storms has seen it accelerate to 9.8 feet (3m) a year. The village has the highest number of properties at risk from coastal erosion in England with 34 cliff-top houses lost in the last 20 years. It is feared many more will be lost over the next 20.
Even Happisburgh’s famous red and white lighthouse is no longer considered safe. In the last few years alone the crumbling cliff face has crept 75 feet (23m) closer to the famous landmark. Experts predict that it will be no more than 80 years before it tumbles into the sea, suffering the same fate as Happisburgh’s Low Lighthouse. Lost to erosion in 1883, the remains of this lighthouse can still be seen on the beach (pictured).
Birling Gap in East Sussex is where the sheer chalk cliffs of the South Downs meet the sea. The stunning cliffs rise 30 feet (9m) from the sea, with constant crumbling and erosion the secret to their dazzling brightness. The buildings seen in this picture are the coastguard cottages built in 1878. The cars are parked in front of the Birling Gap Hotel, built in 1909 and a popular seaside getaway when this photo was taken in the 1930s.
As beautiful as the white cliffs at Birling Gap undoubtedly are, they are also highly susceptible to erosion. The chalk here erodes at roughly 3.3 feet (1m) a year, causing a number of the coastguard cottages to be demolished as land disappeared from under them. Heavy storms in 2014 saw Birling Gap suffer seven years' worth of erosion in just two months and in 2023, the National Trust cafe and visitors centre (the former Birling Gap Hotel) was closed when the cliff face came within 16.4 feet (5m).
Tucked between the sea and the cliffs of South Devon, the atmospheric fishing village of Hallsand once boasted 37 houses, a pub called the London Inn and a population of 159 who made their living crabbing and fishing in the wild sea before them. Seen here in 1885, it was a close-knit community where everyone, including women and children, helped haul in the fishing nets.
It was a precarious life at the best of times, but it was made more so in the 1890s when permission was given to Sir John Jackson Ltd to dredge shingle from the coast around Hallsands to be used in the expansion of the naval dockyard at Keyham, near Plymouth. Over the following decades, the dredging left Hallsand exposed to the elements. On the night of 26 January 1917, a deadly combination of easterly gales and exceptionally high tides breached the village’s defences before it ultimately fell into the sea.
For a time in the early 20th century, Canvey Island in the Thames Estuary was one of England’s most popular seaside resorts. Londoners flocked to the island to lounge in deckchairs, eat jellied eels and paddle off its shores. A 1936 article in the Hendon and Finchley Times noted its health-giving and invigorating air, clean beach and endless opportunities for boating, yachting, shrimping and bathing. Better still it was 'only an hour by LMS [railway] from London'.
That all changed on 31 January 1953 when a huge storm surge swamped the island. Part of the Great North Sea Flood that affected other parts of the UK and Europe, it saw 13,000 people evacuated from their homes on the island and 59 people killed. A sturdy sea wall (pictured) was built to defend the island from similar events in the future but its time as a seaside resort was effectively over. And with the North Sea rising due to climate change, this low-lying estuary island remains vulnerable to tidal flooding.
Picture-perfect Porthcothan Bay in Cornwall is famous for its gorgeous sandy beach, mysterious caves and, until 2014, a mesmerising stone archway that resembled a giant stone doughnut. Visitors and locals alike would gather on the beach to watch the sun set, waiting for that magical moment when the sun would peak through the naturally formed ‘window’.
Sadly, that all changed in January 2014 when Britain was hit by the worst winter storms in 20 years. Waves reached heights of 30 feet (9.1m) and 70 miles per hour (113km/h) winds battered the ancient rock formation, causing much of the doughnut-shaped archway to collapse into the sea. Local residents were devastated, with Tamsin Swindells telling the Western Morning News that the archway now looked like a “demolition site”.
Broomhill Sands is a vast sand and pebble tidal beach on the East Sussex coast, just east of Camber Sands. Its huge flat surface and constant winds made it a regular venue for land yachting in the 1930s (pictured) and the area continues to be a popular spot for kitesurfers. However, those very same conditions contribute to the rapid erosion of the coastline here, with the wide flat beach offering no protection against increasingly common storm surges.
In 2015 a massive coastal defence scheme was undertaken to protect the low-lying hinterland and vast floodplain at the back of Broomhill Sands. As much as 266,936 tonnes of rock was brought in from Norway and a 1.1 mile long (1.8km) concrete retainer wall built along the back of the beach. This provided improved protection from the risk of flooding for around 1,400 homes and more than 100 businesses. The scheme has been declared a great success, increasing protection for the locals from a one in 20 years flood risk to a one in 200 years flood risk. The character of the beach has been undeniably altered though.
Nothing illustrates the relentless impact of coastal erosion along England’s Sussex coast than the plight of the Orfordness Lighthouse near the village of Orford Ness. The lighthouse was built in 1792 and was a vital beacon along this particularly treacherous stretch of coastline. The same storms that threatened shipping also took their toll on the coastline upon which the 98-foot-high (30m) lighthouse was built. Where it had stood 295 feet (90m) from the sea in the early 80s, by 2005 the waves were only 32 feet (10m) away.
Things became critical for the Grade II-listed lighthouse in the winter of 2013-14 when 13 feet (4m) of beach was lost in a single storm. After the waves whipped up by the notorious Beast of the East storms in 2018 reduced that to a matter of feet, the difficult decision was made to dismantle the historic landmark before it fell into the sea. The lighthouse was demolished in July 2020, with several artefacts being kept so that they can be displayed in a specially built memorial. This will be both a testament to the Georgian engineers that built her and to the unrelenting power of the sea.
The Welsh village of Kenfig sits on the north bank of the Bristol Channel and has long been subject to the shifting sand dunes and tidal surges of this geologically temperamental area. In the 12th century there was a small village centred around a Norman castle built by Robert, Earl of Gloucester. In the 13th century a series of powerful storms buried both the town and the castle under tonnes of sand. A further shifting of the sands saw a large lake form, swallowing what was left of the village, as seen here in 1937.
Today that lake is known as Kenfig Pool and forms part of the Kenfig Pool National Nature Reserve, more than 1,300 acres of sand dunes and wetlands. It is regarded as one of Europe’s finest examples of dune habitat and is home to rare flora and fauna, especially fen orchids. It’s a favourite year-round refuge for waterfowl, making it a popular spot for birdwatchers. The sands are still shifting, but nature is more adept at adapting than humans, as testified by the ruins of Kefig castle, still visible amongst the foliage.
The coastal village of Nefyn on the Lleyn Peninsula in North Wales is famous for its long sandy beach, backed by dramatic cliffs. It was an important centre for herring fishing for most of the 18th and 19th century, but after the Second World War gained popularity as a holiday destination. A locally produced guide in the 1950s and 1960s enticed holidaymakers with exciting images of all the seaside activities the village offered including sailing and fishing. Today, the village – and a number of holiday parks – sit perched on the cliff edge and offer breathtaking views across the Irish Sea.
Those cliffs are not particularly stable. This part of the Lleyn Peninsula is covered in weathered debris, a geological composition that is susceptible to shallow landsliding when saturated by water. Record rainfalls in early 2001 saw a series of landslides sweep two cars over the cliff and onto the beach, killing one of the occupants. Another large landslip on 19 April 2021 (pictured) saw a number of people have to abandon their homes. Alarmingly, this slippage was not caused by heavy rainfall or a large storm, emphasising just how unstable this section of the Welsh coastline is.
Sitting at the point where the Wear River spills out into the North Sea, Sunderland’s docks have been the industrial heart of the North East for over 300 years. In 1717 a group known as the River Wear Commissioners began transforming the harbour, building docks and dredging the mouth of the river to allow better movement through the port. When this photo was taken in the late 19th century Sunderland was widely considered to be the largest shipbuilding town in the world.
Dredging may have increased the capacity of the port, but it also made the port more susceptible to the effects of storm surges and coastal erosion. A study in 2019 suggested that the coastline around Sunderland (pictured) was expected to lose 131 feet (40m) in the next 20 years, 328 feet (100m) in the next 50 years and then 656 feet (200m) within a century. In response, council chiefs paid £1.76 million ($2.3m) to strengthen sea defences. This work included extensive repairs to the Hendon Foreshore Barrier that had been damaged in storms.
Now learn about amazing places around the world being swallowed by the sea