Kiribati

At the southwestern tip of South Tarawa, the islet of Betio is a haunting open-air museum of the Pacific War. In November 1943, this narrow strip of coral sand became the stage for one of the bloodiest battles of the U.S. island-hopping campaign—the Battle of Tarawa. Today, the landscape is still scarred by the conflict: rusted Japanese coastal guns, shattered concrete bunkers, and the skeletal remains of amphibious tractors (amphtracks) lie half-buried in the sand and surf. A small but poignant war memorial and cemetery honor the thousands of American and Japanese soldiers who fell here, while local guides can recount stories passed down through generations. Walking along the beaches at low tide, you may spot corroded shell casings and fragments of military hardware emerging from the reef flat—a sobering reminder of the ferocity of the fighting. Betio is also a living community, with bustling markets and crowded lanes, so the juxtaposition of daily life and wartime relics is striking. For history enthusiasts and those drawn to the human stories behind the headlines, Betio offers a visceral, unforgettable encounter with the Pacific’s wartime past.

Christmas Island—Kiritimati—is the world’s largest coral atoll by land area, a vast, shimmering horseshoe of islets and hypersaline lagoons in the far-flung Line Islands. Don’t imagine a conventional resort destination; instead, picture endless sun-bleached motu, rustling scrub, and turquoise channels where barracudas and turtles weave beneath the surface. Kiritimati holds a curious place in modern history as a former British and American nuclear testing site, its rusting launch pads and faded Cold War relics adding an eerie, time-capsule atmosphere to an already otherworldly place. For many visitors, the draw is world-class gamefishing—giant marlin, wahoo, tuna and bonefish cruise the passes—while birdwatchers seek frigatebirds, sooty terns, and the remote nesting grounds of rare seabirds. Vast salt lakes and windswept coral flats make the interior ideal for photography at dawn and dusk, when the horizon appears to ignite. Access is still limited, usually via Fiji or Honolulu then a connection onto Tarawa before the small flight to Kiritimati. Guesthouses and basic hotels cluster near the main settlement of London, offering simple rooms and a chance to experience I-Kiribati life in one of the planet’s most isolated communities. When you step onto Kiritimati you feel that you are reaching, literally and figuratively, toward the edge of the Earth.

The Phoenix Islands Protected Area (PIPA) is one of the largest and most pristine marine protected areas on the planet, a vast expanse of ocean and remote atolls lying southeast of the Gilbert Islands. Encompassing towering seamounts, deep-sea habitats, and a handful of uninhabited or sparsely inhabited islands, PIPA is a living laboratory of biodiversity. Its coral reefs are among the least disturbed in the world, sheltering dense schools of fish, sharks, sea turtles, and seabirds in waters of extraordinary clarity. Human presence is minimal: a few small communities, scientific rangers, and occasional expedition vessels. For travelers, PIPA represents the ultimate frontier—less a conventional destination than a rare opportunity to witness an ocean ecosystem functioning much as it has for millennia. Access is highly restricted and typically limited to research, conservation, or carefully managed expeditions, making any visit here a privilege rather than a right.

Imagine standing on a string of impossibly white coral islets, fringed with coconut palms and lapped by luminous turquoise lagoons—Fanning Island (Tabuaeran) is Kiribati’s most alluring inhabited atoll. A classic low-lying Pacific atoll, Tabuaeran is inhabited by small, welcoming communities whose lives move to the rhythms of tides and Trade Winds. The lagoon is a haven for snorkelers and divers, with coral-encrusted channels, mantas and sharks patrolling the passes, and an interior that glows like liquid jade. Birdwatchers will relish the vast seabird colonies, including frigatebirds, terns and boobies wheeling noisily overhead. The island’s main village, Napari, is a place of sleepy lanes, coral-rubble houses, and a handful of simple guesthouses that can be pre-arranged. For the spiritually inclined, the local Protestant church often marks time with impromptu hymn-singing that spills into the night air. There are no large hotels, no resort infrastructure and no airport lounges—only genuine Polynesian life at its most relaxed and unhurried. Getting here is part of the adventure; the weekly flight from Tarawa, when it operates, can be an odyssey onto itself, but stepping into this time-warped world of swaying palms and starlit skies feels like arriving at the end of the map.

Abaiang Atoll is a slender necklace of islets strung around a luminous turquoise lagoon, lying just north of Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands. Unlike its busier southern neighbor, Abaiang moves to the unhurried rhythm of village life: outrigger canoes glide across calm waters, breadfruit and coconut palms lean over white-sand shores, and the Pacific stretches endlessly in every direction. The atoll’s northern islets feel particularly remote, offering a rare sense of solitude in one of the least-visited countries on Earth. Traditional maneaba (meeting houses) anchor each village, and visitors are often welcomed with warmth and curiosity. Snorkeling along the reef passes reveals vibrant coral gardens and darting reef fish, while the deep channel between islets can bring encounters with larger pelagics. Abaiang is not about polished resorts or curated experiences; it is about immersion in a living Pacific culture, where time slows and the horizon seems infinite.

Flint Island is one of the most enigmatic and least-visited specks of land in the Pacific—a tiny, uninhabited coral atoll rising abruptly from the deep ocean in the southern Line Islands. Its steep, jungle-clad profile is unusual for a low-lying atoll, with dense vegetation crowning a central plateau that once held a guano mining operation. Today, the island is a nature reserve, home to vast colonies of seabirds, nesting green turtles, and a haunting, almost primordial atmosphere. Landing is difficult and rarely permitted; the surrounding reef is treacherous, and there are no facilities whatsoever. Most visitors experience Flint only from the deck of a passing yacht or expedition vessel, watching frigatebirds and boobies wheeling above the canopy while the surf pounds the outer reef. For marine biologists, conservationists, and adventurous sailors, Flint represents one of the last truly wild places in the Pacific—a place where nature has reclaimed the scars of human exploitation and the only footprints in the sand are those of turtles and crabs.

Tamana Island is the southernmost inhabited island of the Gilbert Islands chain, a place where time seems to slow to the rhythm of the tides. This slender coral atoll offers an unvarnished glimpse into traditional I-Kiribati life, far from the modest bustle of South Tarawa. Visitors who make the journey are rewarded with pristine beaches of crushed coral and powdered sand, swaying coconut palms, and a profound sense of isolation that is increasingly rare in the modern world. The island’s small, welcoming community lives in harmony with the ocean, and experiencing their daily rhythms—fishing from hand-carved canoes, weaving pandanus mats, and sharing stories beneath the equatorial sun—is the true attraction here. It is not a destination of grand monuments, but of quiet, authentic human connection and the raw, unspoiled beauty of the central Pacific.

Teraina, also known as Washington Island, is a lush, green outlier among Kiribati’s mostly low-lying atolls. Located in the northern Line Islands, it is one of the few islands in the country with a significant freshwater lake, giving it a surprisingly verdant character. Coconut plantations and dense vegetation cover much of the interior, while the surrounding reef and ocean offer excellent fishing and snorkeling. The small, close-knit community lives largely from subsistence agriculture and copra production, and traditional practices remain strong. For travelers, Teraina feels like stepping into a quieter, older Pacific: the pace is slow, the nights are dark, and the sense of isolation is profound. It is not easy to reach, but for those who do, Teraina offers a rare combination of natural beauty, cultural authenticity, and genuine remoteness.

Vostok Island is a phantom in the Pacific, a tiny, uninhabited speck of land in the far-flung Line Islands that represents the ultimate in remote, untouched nature. Cloaked in a dense, primeval forest of Pisonia trees, it is a place of eerie silence and raw ecological power, home to vast colonies of seabirds whose calls fill the air. There are no people, no structures, and no fresh water—only the relentless sun, the pounding surf, and the intricate web of life thriving in isolation. For the few scientists, yachtsmen, or extreme adventurers who ever glimpse its shores, Vostok is a profound experience, a living laboratory and a stark reminder of the planet’s wild, untamed places. It is less a destination and more a legend, a symbol of pristine wilderness that exists on the very edge of the accessible world.

Abemama Atoll is a place of deep historical resonance and serene natural beauty, often referred to as the “Island of the Moon.” It was once the seat of powerful paramount chiefs and the site of the last royal palace in the Gilberts, lending it an aura of regal history that lingers in its ancient meeting houses (maneaba) and sacred sites. Beyond its storied past, Abemama is a classic Pacific paradise: a ring of lush, green islets encircling a stunning lagoon of impossible blue. The pace of life is gentle, centered on fishing, coconut harvesting, and community gatherings. For the intrepid traveler, Abemama offers a rare combination of cultural depth and untouched tranquility, a chance to experience the heart of I-Kiribati tradition in a breathtakingly beautiful setting.