Things to Do in Yaren in May

May's reduced rainfall clears the nearshore water along Anibare Bay on Nauru's eastern coast. You can see the coral shelf from the road above. The reef drops sharply about 30 metres (100 ft) from shore. In May's calmer conditions, the increase is manageable enough to reach the outer edge where parrotfish, surgeonfish, and occasional reef sharks patrol the wall. Water temperature sits around 29°C (84°F), warm enough to skip the wetsuit but cool enough at depth for hour-long sessions. Go before 9 AM. The sun sits low enough that glare won't flatten reef colours, and wind hasn't picked up. The coral entry is sharp underfoot, a volcanic limestone shelf that cuts through bare feet without hesitation. Reef shoes are non-negotiable. No lifeguards. No beach rental shops. No emergency services nearby. Bring your own gear or arrange through your accommodation before arrival.

Nauru's interior looks like another planet. Eighty years of phosphate mining stripped the coral limestone cap to a forest of jagged pinnacles, some reaching 5 metres (16 ft) tall, with narrow passages winding between them. It is the strangest landscape in the Pacific, possibly one of the strangest on earth. In May, reduced humidity and slightly lower rainfall make walking this terrain bearable. The coral is razor-sharp. The footing is uneven. No marked trails exist. What you get is a landscape that stops you in your tracks, where silence breaks only to frigatebirds overhead and the crack of dried coral underfoot. Late afternoon around 4 PM gives the best light, when pinnacles throw long shadows and the surface takes on warm amber tones. The walk from the ring road to deeper Topside sections covers roughly 2 km (1.2 miles), though the terrain makes it feel three times that.

Japanese forces occupied Nauru from 1942 to 1945. Remnants scatter across Command Ridge, the island's highest point at roughly 65 metres (213 ft) above sea level. Rusted gun emplacements, concrete bunkers with firing slits intact, and corroded coastal defence remains sit in the scrub exactly where abandoned in 1945. Nothing has been restored. The guns still point out to sea. In May's drier weather, paths up to the ridge stay firm enough to walk without slipping on mud, a real problem during wet months. The view from the top takes in nearly the entire island, a 360-degree sweep from reef line to Topside pinnacles to parliament buildings below in Yaren. Bring water. No shade exists on the approach. The walk up from the road takes about twenty minutes in heat that soaks your shirt before you reach the first bunker.

Nauru's single paved road circles the entire island in roughly 19 km (12 miles), hugging the coast almost the entire way. On a bicycle, you can complete the loop in about ninety minutes. But the point is to stop. The road passes through all fourteen districts, each one a slightly different character of foreshore and settlement, from the government buildings in Yaren to the quieter stretches near Anabar where pandanus trees lean over the coral shelf and the reef spray catches the trade wind. May's lower rainfall means the road surface stays dry and the puddles that turn some sections into obstacle courses during the wet season have mostly drained. Start at dawn, before 6:30 AM, when the air temperature is still close to the overnight low of 25°C (77°F) and the road is empty except for the occasional government vehicle. The smell of salt and drying seaweed follows you the entire way, and the sound is mostly surf and wind until you pass through the small settlement clusters where roosters and radio compete.

Buada Lagoon is the only standing fresh water on Nauru, a shallow, brackish pool roughly 300 metres (984 ft) across, surrounded by dense tropical vegetation that feels completely disconnected from the rest of the island. The walk from the ring road to the lagoon drops down through a corridor of coconut palms and pandanus that blocks the wind and traps the humidity, so the temperature feels several degrees warmer than the coast. In May, the lagoon level is still high enough from the tail end of the wet season to reflect the surrounding tree canopy, and the birdlife, noddies and white terns, is active in the morning hours. The smell here shifts from the salt and coral of the coast to something greener, damp earth and fallen fruit. It is quiet in a way that feels deliberate, as if the island saved one pocket of stillness for itself. The trail is rough but short, maybe 500 metres (1,640 ft) from the nearest road access.