Keeping our plans flexible has long been a priority. That does not mean we didn’t make longer range plans, just that we kept them open for changes, should the need arise. A few months back we pulled a trigger on a very special plan: to go diving in Micronesia. What that meant in practice was that we booked flights to Micronesia using award miles, and it was finally time to go ahead and fly there.
Micronesia, and its state of Chuuk in particular, are known in the scuba diving circles as one of the bucket list destinations. During a fateful couple of days in February 1944, the US Navy conducted a massive attack on the Imperial Japanese Navy fleet stationed in the warm waters of Chuuk Lagoon. Known as Operation Hailstone, the attack was swift and successful. Hundreds of aircraft and ships were destroyed, and thousands of Japanese Navy personnel were killed. 80 years later, the wrecks of these warships and aircraft, and some of the human bones, are still sitting in the protected lagoon, at depth ranging from almost snorkel level, to advanced tech diving more than 60 meters below the surface. The warm tropical climate means a lot of the shallow wrecks are covers in impressive corals. Would it be worth the hype?
After spending months riding on small displacement motorcycles across northern North America, we thought spending a few hours on the infamous Pacific Island Hopper would be a piece of cake. Sure, a very large, stale and dry piece of cake, served with no water.
The Island Hopper journey started in Honolulu, and getting there is hardly worth writing about. Since the onward flight departs at 7 am, we stayed in the cheapest airport hotel we could find, heading out before the sun was even up. For whatever reason, Micronesia flights require in person check in, so we had to show up super early and then sit around doing nothing in the mostly empty terminal. The plane servicing this unique itinerary was showing its age, but that was not its biggest problem. We didn’t know that yet, but the food offerings on board were a cut above most of what we would be enjoying in Micronesia proper. At the time, we just thought reheated breakfast sandwiches were too small and too plain. With numerous stops it took over 10 hours to get from Honolulu to Pohnpei, the first island where we would disembark. Thankfully, views outside the window were beautiful, because the inflight entertainment system was abismal, featuring a total of 4 movies. I’m not entirely sure why this route has such a different treatment than the rest of United network.
Finally, we were rewarded with solid ground to walk on and wonderfully warm tropical air to breathe. First task was to arrange the diving for next day. Island time. If the dive master is not in, and nobody quite knows when he would be back, it’s not a concern. He would show up eventually. We had some sushi rolls in a restaurant nearby, noting that Philadelphia cream cheese is a key ingredient in almost every combo. A walk around the main town revealed a rusting tank decorating the front lawn of one of the houses. A state of decay was hanging over the community. The dive shop owner told us that whatever tourist traffic was coming for the diving at some point in the past, has not recovered at all following the pandemic related closures.
The views of the mangroves were serene. The water in the lagoon, once we got on a boat and headed for the reefs, was so incredibly clear and warm. There are no wrecks in Pohnpei, but plenty of corals and colorful fish. The highlight of the dives was meeting a schools of sharks. I tried to keep up with them to get a better look, but they were so effortlessly fast, I had no chance.
Jet lug was severe. We kept running out of steam and falling asleep by later afternoon, only to wake up restless in the middle of the night. Aside from a couple of restaurants, people also sell home made food on the main street. It seemed like a popular choice schoolchildren and office workers pick up on the way home. A basic plate of rice, bony chicken or pork, macaroni salad and a symbolic slice of cucumber. $3. Fresh vegetables here are a rarity.
The local gas station has a sign asking people not to spit betel nut on the ground. I have heard of this being a very common habit in the country. Thankfully, like smoking, it seems this fashionable vice is on the decline. The spit is reddish brown, and leaves stains on the ground – and on the teeth. Few people chewed the nuts on the streets, although many had stained teeth from doing it in the past.
After a long search, we found a driver to take us to the Nan Madol ruins on the far end of the island. The roads are narrow and twisty, with houses build right up to the edge, so driving is very slow. Most cars are very old, so nobody is really looking to speed. On the way to the ruins I very urgently had to use a bathroom. No public bathrooms anywhere, but the driver stopped by a house and asked the lady he knew to let me use their bathroom. We didn’t speak the same language, but the sweet lady gave me a hug before I left, and a handwritten note reminding me that Jesus loves me. And her full name carefully spelled out so we could be friends on Facebook.
The ruins of Nan Madol are located in a tidal area, where the water levels change quite dramatically. Even at the lowest point, you get wet reaching the main sites. Beyond marveling at the size of the basalt columns used for the structures, we enjoyed the beautiful tidal pools on the edge of the complex. Some of them are filled with corals that spend half their time above water. I didn’t even realize hard coral can survive living in the air for extended time.
Our driver only had very basic explanations for the most obvious features of the site. It’s close to 1000 years old, and the details were lost in time, with only the legends remaining in the oral history of Pohnpei.
The sun climbed higher, and it was time to hike back to the rudimentary parking lot and head out to the airport. I had a nagging headache from the wonderful cocktail of jet lag, pressure from diving, blazing sun and who knows what else. The airport was kept air conditioned so much, I had to get a warm layer to keep comfortable. The next segment of the Island Hopper would be a short one.
