Why water is the best way to see Palau, a country in the Pacific Ocean

As you sink into the warm aquamarine water, you will immediately feel the pull of the current. Activate your leg muscles to kick toward the reef, find a good spot to hook onto the reef without damaging it, pump some air into your buoyancy control device (BCD) a few times, and save yourself (and most importantly) , fins) above the reef. Coral. Here I hover, attached to a hook with a coil lanyard, and enjoy the show.

Act one begins with the shivering of a white shark marching along the edge of a reef a few meters away from me. A school of black-banded macaques appears from stage left, followed by a school of giant Napoleon wrasse and canary yellow and white pyramid butterflyfish, seemingly unconcerned by the abundance of predators in their midst.

During brief breaks in shark activity, I spot moray eels extending their heads through crevices in the reef, flashing their needle-like teeth as they open and close their mouths to pass oxygenated water through their gills. I did. Waving above a hard coral head, a trio of Christmas tree bugs suck colorful leaves into the tiny burrows they drill into their adaptable hosts.

After a while, we unhook and drift over a slice of sublime reef adorned with corals of various colors and textures. While we pass a few hawksbill turtles, a red-faced triggerfish is a constant companion, flapping its cerulean-blue fins and dragging its crescent-shaped tail along the current in a mesmerizing bird-like motion.

diver's joy

Almost an hour later, we were back on the speedboat, but we weren't too peaked as we spent our first morning in Palau diving at Blue Corner, the Micronesian country's most famous small dive site. I thought so.

But our second dive in the German Channel that morning was just as spectacular. Bombed and dredged from Palau's barrier reef in 1908 during the German colonial period (1899-1914), this artificial waterway was reborn as a hangout for “big game” such as sharks, turtles, and giant manta rays. On my second dive here, I admired a pair of stingrays performing a hypnotic courtship dance, twisting and turning in the blue.

The amount and diversity of marine life at both sites is astonishingly rich, and with the growing popularity of scuba diving worldwide, with more than 1 million divers certified annually by PADI alone, for my small group Having both dive sites to yourself is a rare treat. The lack of crowds is partly due to the fact that I visited in August, the peak of the country's off-season (rainy season). However, Palau offers excellent diving all year round. Palau lies outside the region's typhoon belt and is protected from most tropical storms.

Another reason I have exclusive access to Palau's top dive sites is the luxury ship Four Seasons Explorer, which was launched in Palau in 2023 after 20 years of cruising around the Maldives. Unlike a standard liveaboard with a fixed length of stay, this 128-foot triple-decker catamaran with 11 guest cabins offers daily boarding at your new island home and speedboat transportation. You will typically arrive at your cruise location within an hour.

The Explorer spends most of the week's cruise itinerary on Palau's UNESCO World Heritage-listed Rock Islands. Rock Island is a jewel box of about 400 limestone islands covered in emerald jungle that rises above dreamy blue waters just south of Koror Island, Palau's main commercial and tourism center. . hub.

Most of the ship's Palauan staff are currently training in the Maldives, so all 22 crew members on board during my week-long stay are transplants from the two Four Seasons resorts there. . Many of them are Maldivian, including one of my dive guides, Hassan Ali. He laments the decline in the quality of the coral reefs in his homeland due to a series of coral bleaching events. “You see more manta rays in the Maldives, but the coral reefs in Palau are in better condition,” he said as I emerged from an incredible wall dive at C.S. Corner on my second day. .

Later that week at Turtle Cove, I was fascinated by a pair of electric shells that emitted bright white light from the reflective cells of their crimson lips. On my fourth day in the Oolong Strait, I floated over a field of lettuce coral that resembled a giant green rose. Later that afternoon, I took a short speedboat ride to admire a collection of rock art painted under the overhang of Oolong Island more than 3,000 years ago.

While eating a fresh tuna poke bowl for lunch midway through my stay, I realized that the plastic bottles I found swinging around on the Explorer as it headed to its new anchorage were the first marine debris I encountered in Palau. I noticed that. “Palauans are very proud of what they have here,” says Eric Whipps, a local businessman who was vacationing on the Explorer with his family during my visit. “You'll notice that Palau is very beautiful even on land,” says the recently certified divemaster, munching on fresh watermelon slices between dives.

balance of nature

Believed to have been settled by seafarers from Indonesia or the Philippines about 4,000 years ago, Palau is a pioneer in environmental protection, celebrating its 30th anniversary of independence in 2024. In 2009, we created the world's first shark sanctuary, and in 2017 we launched the Palau Pledge, the world's first initiative to ask visitors to sign a pledge to walk quietly upon entry. Earlier this year, it became the first country to ratify the United Nations' High Seas Convention, which allows for the creation of transboundary marine protected areas.

A deep respect for the environment and the interrelationship between humans and nature is the cornerstone of Palauan culture, says Palauan guide Fonzarelli Fonzi Sikic, who meets me one morning at a marina in Koror and explores Palau's lush and secluded landscape. I said this when I was given a tour of Babeldaob. A developed main island connected to Koror by a bridge. This is one of several activities you can arrange during your stay at Explorers.

“Everything we do is connected to currents,” Fonzie explains. His easy-going smile and dark hair curled in traditional carved wooden hairpins give him a different kind of charisma than the Happy Days character he is named after. . “Babies are usually born at high tide, and often pregnant women hold out (if the tide is still high) for good luck,” he continues.

“When someone dies, the tide usually recedes,” Fonzie said, adding that the importance of tides is also reflected in Palau's flag, with a yellow full moon rising above the blue tide.

Just over an hour from Koror, we pass yet another “Keep Palau Primitive” sign on the scenic winding drive to the mysterious monolithic complex on the northern tip of the island. , Eric's earlier comment rang true. There is another one at the entrance to Gudmau Falls, about 20 minutes south of the monolith. Here, Fonzie and I hike down a steamy stretch of lush jungle to cool off under a vast curtain of water gushing from a volcanic shelf some 100 feet above us. Our adventure concludes with a visit to Koror's small but interesting Belau National Museum, which displays artifacts such as bright glass beads that formed part of the complex traditional exchange system.

beyond the reef

A serene sunrise hatha yoga session on the Explorer's sundeck as white-tailed tropical birds fly by prepares you for another day of diving. Late in the afternoon, I was shuttled from the Airai anchorage on the southern tip of Babeldaob Island to the coast to meet Palauan local Verma Obak. Wearing a traditional pandanus bra and hibiscus fiber skirt, Verma leads us through historic stone paths to the traditional bai (chiefs' meeting hall). This approximately two-century old A-shaped wooden hall with a thatched roof is one of only four traditional bai still standing in Palau.

Here, Verma shares some of the stories behind the paintings that cover its exterior. Battle scenes can be misleading, she said, explaining that in the ancient Palauan conflict, bloodshed was kept to a minimum and wars were won by taking the heads of targets on the enemy side. When I looked inside, I noticed that there was a flying fox drawn under the head of the door. “When a bat lands upside down, it's in a submissive position, so this is a symbol of respect,” Verma explains.

It has not been easy for Palau to maintain its rich cultural traditions, both tangible and intangible. After Imperial Japan annexed Palau in 1914, by 1937 Japanese immigrants outnumbered Palauans three to one. Palau would go on to experience some of the bloodiest fighting of the Pacific War within its territory, with only about 5,300 Palauans surviving the massacre.

On a gray afternoon nearing the end of our trip, I, along with cruise director and dive guide Angela Gitaprakasa, dove into the deep waters of Rock Island to find the 469-foot Japanese Navy oil tanker sitting upright on a sandy beach 130 feet deep. Iro' was explored. surface. Descending along the ship's coral-covered bow, we arrive at a gaping hole torn by an Allied torpedo. Surprisingly, it wasn't the torpedoes that sank Iro, but the subsequent bombing that left a hole in the deck. While exploring, they were surprised to discover an octopus that quickly transforms into an impressive imitation of a chunk of corroded metal.

Another legacy of Palau's Japanese era that has survived the 30 years of post-war American rule is its cuisine. Fresh local reef fish sashimi is a staple at Koror's casual restaurants, and it appeared on the Explorer's international menu several times during my stay. Meanwhile, the highlight of the breakfast is 'Kari's Mama Egg Scramble'. This is a Palauan family recipe shared by the namesake member of the Explorer's land staff.

To the sound of conch horns, we disembark the Explorer for the last time and leave Palau with a new appreciation for raw fish, island life, and the power of environmental stewardship.