As the climate crisis accelerates, Pacific Island communities are taking bold, grassroots action to protect and restore the ocean—urging global leaders to match their urgency ahead of the upcoming U.N. Ocean Conference.

The ocean is our lifeblood. It is our provider, the foundation of our cultures, and our home. But it is changing before our eyes. Growing up in Samoa, an island nation ringed by a vast blue horizon, it became clear to me early on that my life, and the life of my community—our stories and culture—were inextricably linked to the ocean. Our lives are woven into the ocean, and when it suffers, we suffer too.

The latest UNESCO State of the Oceans report confirms what Pacific Islanders have known for years: the rate of ocean warming has doubled in just 20 years. Villages are disappearing as rising seas creep further inland and saltwater intrusion destroys our crops and drinking water sources.

More frequent and intense cyclones are displacing families and wiping out infrastructure. Entire nations, such as Tuvalu and Kiribati, face the terrifying prospect of becoming uninhabitable within a generation. And yet, Pacific Islanders’ calls for urgent action to restore our greatest climate ally—the ocean—continue to be met with half-measures and empty promises.

The upcoming United Nations Ocean Conference (UNOC) is a major moment for leaders to change course. We need leaders to deliver on their commitment to protect at least 30% of the ocean by 2030 (30x30), which means doing so with urgency and accountability. If we don’t act now, these impacts will spread far beyond the Pacific, threatening coastal communities around the world. The question is: will they?

When I began my climate work in Samoa, I thought we were alone on this journey. But I quickly uncovered the opposite: people in the Pacific are not only enduring the impacts of the climate crisis—we are leading the response.

Travelling across the Pacific Islands, documenting the lives of communities, I discovered people and projects weaving Indigenous knowledge into the modern day to adapt and rebuild. From Tuvalu to Palau, from Fiji to the Cook Islands, we are planting, restoring and protecting. We are fighting to save what we love.

Take Tuvalu, for instance. Despite being labelled a “sinking island,” Tuvaluans are not surrendering. Local youth groups are planting mangroves as natural barriers against rising tides. These tangled roots do more than hold the soil—they hold hope. They buffer coastlines from storm surges and nurture fish nurseries, restoring marine life the way our ancestors once did, long before scientists confirmed the value of such ecosystems.

In Fiji, communities on Leleuvia Island are taking a different approach. There, I visited a coral nursery where marine scientists and locals work side by side to cultivate heat-resistant coral species, such as the “Pink Lady.” These corals are surviving where others bleach and die. Once mature, they’re replanted onto damaged reefs, bringing colour and life back to once-ghostly underwater landscapes. These gardens of resilience show exactly what climate adaptation can look like.

Palau, too, is showing the world what’s possible. This small island nation has protected 80% of its offshore waters, creating the world’s first national shark sanctuary and banning destructive fishing across an area larger than France. There, conservation is more than just policy: it’s personal. Visitors must pledge to “tread lightly,” guided by the words of Palauan children. And it works. The reefs here teem with life. The people here understand: protecting the ocean is about protecting your future.

And in the Cook Islands, the Marae Moana ocean governance framework draws on both Indigenous wisdom and modern science to protect their vast waters for generations to come. Their approach to managing fisheries, seabed mining and even plastic pollution is rooted in community voices, intergenerational stewardship and balance. It's not just about drawing lines on a map. It's about ensuring that the ocean continues to provide, as it always has.

These are not just inspiring anecdotes. They show that 30x30 is not a fantasy—it’s happening. But we need more of it, faster and at scale.

Today, globally only 8% of the ocean is designated as protected and not even 3% of the ocean is deemed to be effectively protected, leaving almost all of the ocean vulnerable to harmful industrial activities such as seafloor trawling and offshore drilling.

The crisis unfolding in the Pacific is a warning for the world. If global leaders fail to take action, coastal cities from Miami to Manila will also face rising waters and increasing extreme marine storms. Ocean acidification will strip marine ecosystems of life, collapsing fisheries that millions depend on for food and livelihoods.

At the U.N. Ocean Conference in June, I am joining with the Together for the Ocean campaign, calling on governments to scale ambition, create and enforce marine protected areas, and ensure finance flows towards ocean conservation with direct access for Indigenous Peoples and local communities.

As a priority, leaders need to step up to protect our shared ocean: the high seas. Until 60 countries ratify the High Seas Treaty, it won’t become international law. Twenty-one nations have stepped forward already, but more must follow.

No more excuses, no more delays. The solutions exist. The knowledge exists. The urgency could not be greater. Governments must be held accountable to their pledges.

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