Things to Do in Tarawa in April

The November 1943 Battle of Tarawa scarred Betio in ways eighty-plus years have softened but not erased. April's lower tides expose more reef flat where amphibious tractors stalled under Japanese fire. Wade out at low water to rusted Sherman tank turrets breaking the surface like iron tombstones. Two massive eight-inch Japanese naval guns still aim at the reef passage from crumbling concrete bunkers that smell of salt rust and damp coral. Admiral Shibasaki's command bunker, half-collapsed and overgrown with salt-tolerant scrub, demands careful footing. April's intermittent cloud cover helps. Unshaded concrete and coral rubble punish under full equatorial sun. A cloudy morning buys two to three hours tracing seawall positions without heatstroke. Go at dawn. Bring at least two litres (half a gallon) of water per person.

The boat ride from South Tarawa to North Tarawa's outer islets is the single best thing here in April. The crossing takes roughly forty-five minutes in a local outboard. The shift is abrupt. South Tarawa's crowded causeway strip falls away. Coconut palms outnumber people by hundreds to one. Buariki village, near the northern tip, lives on coconut toddy, reef fish, and breadfruit. April's calmer lagoon smooths the crossing after January to March's swells that cancel boats for days. Sunlight through half a metre (twenty inches) of clarity over white coral sand produces a turquoise that looks digitally altered in photographs. Woodsmoke from copra drying sheds hits before the village appears. Coral gravel crunches underfoot, the loudest sound for kilometres. Plan a full day. Rushing defeats the purpose.

Tarawa's lagoon reef, the stretch between Bairiki and Bikenibeu on the southern shore of South Tarawa, rewards patient snorkelers with something better than postcard perfection. Skip the wall dive expectations. This is a living reef flat where giant clams the size of rugby balls pulse open and shut, blacktip reef sharks patrol the drop-off in knee-deep water, and parrotfish crunch coral loudly enough to hear through your snorkel. April's reduced wave action on the lagoon side improves visibility noticeably over rougher wet-season months. Enter from shore an hour after high tide when current is slack and visibility peaks. Low tide means dragging yourself over exposed coral, damaging both you and the reef. The water temperature sits at roughly 29°C (84°F) year-round. Pack a rash guard for sun protection. Forget the wetsuit.

Kiribati is one of the last untouched bonefishing destinations in the Pacific. Tarawa's outer reef flats, off the ocean side of Betio and the sandflats near Bonriki, hold bonefish that have rarely if ever seen a fly. April's transitional weather creates ideal sight-fishing conditions. Overcast mornings cut surface glare enough to spot tailing fish on the flats. The water stays warm and shallow enough to wade comfortably in reef shoes. The sensation is primal. You stand thigh-deep in the open Pacific, the reef edge dropping into blue-black water thirty metres (a hundred feet) out, scanning for the nervous silver flash of bonefish cruising the sand. The wind is warm. Salt dries white on your forearms within minutes. The silence between wave sets is so complete you hear the fish's tail break the surface. This is catch-and-release territory. Local guides learned these flats from their fathers' fishing canoes, not from certification courses.

The causeway road linking South Tarawa's islets from Betio in the west to Bonriki in the east runs roughly 30 kilometres (19 miles). It is the spine of daily life on the atoll. Cycle it in April, starting at dawn before heat consolidates, to get the full texture of Tarawa that car windows cannot deliver. You pass fish unloaded from outrigger canoes on the lagoon side. Children walk to school in pressed uniforms. Pigs root under breadfruit trees. Sharp coconut-husk smoke from morning cooking fires hangs in still air until trade winds pick up around nine. The road is flat. No point on Tarawa rises more than 3 metres (10 feet) above sea level. The coral surface is rough in places. Potholes appear without warning. The ocean side of the causeway, where waves crash against the seawall, smells of brine and sun-baked coral. Sound shifts from lagoon-calm to open-Pacific roar within steps. Stop at the parliament building in Ambo for the view across the lagoon. Stop again at the fish market near Bikenibeu where morning catch rests on palm fronds.