Wreck diving in Chuuk was a highlight of my time in Micronesia
Island Hopping through Oceania - The World's Best Wreck Diving in Chuuk
The state of Chuuk is Micronesia’s most populous state and a world-class destination for wreck diving. It comprises one large main lagoon, filled with myriad hilly islands, and a smattering of remote outer islands.
Chuuk's main lagoon is filled with small forrested islands
Wreck Diving in Chuuk is world famous
It is in Chuuk’s main lagoon where the state’s prime attraction lies: wreck diving. During WWII, as the Japanese retreated across the Pacific, the Americans sank a whole fleet of Japanese freighters in the sheltered waters here.
With over 60 ships and planes resting on the lagoon’s sandy bottom, Chuuk has become known as one of the world’s premier dive destinations. That said, its location, in the middle of the vast Pacific, with the only direct flights arriving from Pohnpei, also in Micronesia, or Guam, means you could still have the wrecks all to yourself.
Wreck Diving in Chuuk is world-class, but it is still a little-visited dive destination
Chuuk has very limited tourism infrastructure
We had planned to spend five days, mixing wreck diving in Chuuk with some island hopping. The 2006 Lonely Planet Guide to the South Pacific and Micronesia (the most up-to-date guidebook covering Chuuk) soon put paid to that idea, however. Describing Chuukese people as aggressive, violent, and dangerous, and suggesting that an independent trip to any island outside the capital, Weno, would be an unreasonable risk, we opted instead for a shorter three-day stay.
On top of that, we broke with our usual budget trend and booked two nights at Blue Lagoon Resort. The rooms, restaurant, bar and dive shop of Blue Lagoon Resort are scattered across the southern tip of Chuuk’s Weno Island, amongst coconut palms and all with fantastic views across the lagoon to the islands of Tonoas and Fefan.
Blue Lagoon Resort sits on the edge of Chuuk's lagoon surrounded by coconut palms
Small dinghies with outboard motors zipped across the passage between the islands from dawn until dusk, locals commuting between the outer islands of Chuuk’s main lagoon and the capital. With so many inhabited islands inside the lagoon, Chuukese society seemed much more maritime than others in the Pacific. The harbours of Weno were constantly packed with dinghies, and boats appeared to outnumber cars.
Locals commute by dinghy between the islands of Chuuk lagoon
Blue Lagoon Resort in Chuuk is a relaxing place to stay
After camping in Pohnpei and staying in a grubby motel in Kosrae, the Blue Lagoon Resort was pure luxury. Our first-floor balcony looked across the close-clipped lawns, home to scuttling coconut crabs, past swaying coconut palms, to Chuuk’s lagoon. Facing west, we bathed in the shallow waters just offshore as the sun set behind Tonoas and Fefan.
Blue Lagoon Resort was a great place to watch the sunset
We were still on a budget, however, and we concocted most of our meals from what we could find in the local shop: kimchi and tuna on bread buns for breakfast and lunch. Tinned beef stew – heated in the tin using bowls of water boiled in the room’s kettle – with bread buns for dinner. We treated ourselves to spaghetti bolognese one night in the hotel’s restaurant, and beers at the bar overlooking the lagoon another.
Wreck diving in Chuuk lagoon
Blue Lagoon Resort may have been a great place to relax, but this stop was all about the wreck diving in Chuuk. So, on our second day, I zipped out across the placid lagoon waters between Tonoas and Fefan with Chance from Blue Lagoon Dive Shop.
The only other diving guest was a return visitor from Australia. He was clearly an experienced diver and had all the gear to back it up. As we began donning BCDs and weight belts, I apologised for what I expected to be a very slow descent (I struggle to equalise) and a short dive time (I burn through air). He wasn’t impressed!
Thankfully, the 18 flights across the Pacific it had taken to get to Chuuk seemed to have improved my ability to equalise my ear pressure, and I dropped like a stone the 12 metres or so to the hull of the Rio de Janeiro Maru. Resting on its side at 35 metres below the surface, the ship was originally a passenger-cargo liner but, at the time of sinking, was being used as a naval transport ship.
The Rio de Janeiro Maru lies on its side at at depth of 35 metres
Wreck diving in Chuuk lagoon is a scuba diver’s dream
Cruising along the coral-encrusted hull of the Rio de Janeiro Maru, we reached the stern. Here, the ship’s twin propellers stuck out over the abyss, in the same position as they stopped in 1944 when the American bombs ripped open the hull. The word ‘Rio’ was just legible beneath the rust and coral growth, and on the tilted deck, a large gun pointed out into the deep blue.
The twin propellers of the Rio de Janeiro Maru are encrusted with coral
From the deck, we descended into the ship’s labyrinthine innards through a small hole, where the cargo of beer bottles and guns was just discernible in the gloom beneath a layer of silt. After a short surface interval on Etten Island, where a BBQ was in progress, but where we had to settle for the unlimited supply of bananas instead, we sped across to anchor over the Kiyosumi Maru, off the coast of Fefan Island.
Kiyosumi Maru also lies on its side, and as we cruised along the ship’s deck, at 90 degrees to the seabed, we dipped in and out of the cavernous interior. Coral clung to the metal structures that once towered over the deck, but now protrude out over the seafloor.
Wreck diving in Chuuk around the eerie Kiyosumi Maru
Inside the ship, we squeezed through horizontal doorways to see the cargo of bombs, bicycles and stacked barrels. As usual, I burned through my air well before the others, and we were soon speeding back to Blue Lagoon Resort as the waves on the lagoon picked up and one of Chuuk’s frequent thunderstorms rolled in.
Entering the Kiyosumi Maru while wreck diving in Chuuk lagoon
Floating through the wrecks of Chuuk lagoon was a surreal experience
Chuuk has some unusual souvenirs
I’m a sucker for a niche souvenir, and Chuuk must have one of the most niche: the Chuukese love stick. The story goes that these were once used by male suitors. Chuukese men would surreptitiously show their love stick to a woman that they were romantically interested in. The lucky woman would then have a good feel of the man’s love stick, committing its intricately carved shape to memory.
At night, that man would sneak up to the woman’s hut and poke his love stick through the thatch wall of her sleeping area. Awoken, she would feel the protruding love stick in the dark, and if she recognised the carvings of a man she liked, she would give his love stick a pull and go out to meet her suitor. If she had no desire, his love stick would be unceremoniously pushed away, and she would remain in her hut.
I couldn’t leave Chuuk without one, given the elaborate and titillating backstory. That was easier said than done, however, and at the airport the lovestick was deemed a potential weapon. A man at baggage control helpfully fashioned an elaborately shaped love stick box, before checking the precious cargo in for the next stop on our island-hopping journey: Guam.
My love stick being specially packaged for transport to Guam
This Leg
Days: 3
Flights: 2
Boats: 1
Islands: 2
Countries & Territories: 1
Total
Days: 82
Flights: 20
Boats: 32
Islands: 33
Countries & Territories: 10