October, late afternoon. I’m floating in Palau’s gentle lagoon, gazing at jade-green Rock Islands under a blue tropical sky. My older brother pops up next to me, mask on forehead, grinning like a kid. We exchange an underwater high-five as our group chatters excitedly about the shark-packed drift dive we just finished. This moment is twenty years in the making — two brothers reunited on a scuba adventure of a lifetime. As a dive professional leading a group trip, I’ve guided countless dives, but this trip is different. Ten nights in Palau, daily diving with Sam’s Tours, and sharing it all with my brother for his 60th birthday. It’s a journey of thrilling currents, vibrant reefs, WWII wrecks, and a deeply personal reunion set against one of the world’s most spectacular backdrops.

The Long Journey to Paradise

Getting to Palau is an adventure in itself. Our journey began in Colorado with an late afternoon flight to L.A., followed by a long haul red-eye across the Pacific to Taiwan, and finally to Palau. We arrived bleary-eyed but buzzing with excitement at Palau International Airport in Koror. Immigration in Palau is uniquely heartwarming — every visitor signs the Palau Pledge, promising to act responsibly toward the environment during their stay​. Even after such a long trip, that moment made me smile; it felt like we were entering a nation that truly treasures its natural heritage. After 30+ hours of travel (and one bleary layover spent stretching our legs in Taipei’s terminal), stepping off the plane into Palau’s warm, humid air was a relief. The scent of the ocean and flowers instantly revived us. Despite the grueling journey, I knew this far-flung paradise was absolutely worth it.

We checked into the Palau Royal Resort late evening. The PRR would be our base for the next ten nights – a comfortable oceanfront hotel on Malakal Island with its own small beach and lagoon views. Even in darkness, we could hear gentle waves lapping and see silhouettes of palm trees. I fell asleep to the distant hum of reef life, eager for the adventures to come.

First Dive Day – Sam’s Tours and Rock Island Highs

Morning came fast. The first day’s sun revealed Palau’s beauty in full: turquoise water, emerald isles, and a bright blue sky dotted with cotton-ball clouds. Our group gathered at Sam’s Tours, one of Palau’s top dive operators and our partner for the week. Sam’s dock in Malakal Harbor was a lively scene each morning – guides loading tanks and gear onto skiffs, excited divers slathering on sunscreen, and the resident dock dog trotting around looking for scraps. As a trip leader, I handled paperwork and made sure everyone was set with permits (a Rock Islands conservation permit is required for diving most sites here). Sam’s efficient crew took care of the rest, from setting up our gear on the boat to providing each diver a reef hook (more on that soon).

Our routine quickly fell into a blissful rhythm: an 8:00 AM boat departure, two or three dives through mid-afternoon, then returning by 4 PM. We’d whizz out across Palau’s southern lagoon, weaving through the labyrinth of Rock Islands. These islands are Palau’s signature – karst limestone domes cloaked in lush jungle, rising straight out of impossibly blue water. The lagoon’s surface is typically calm like glass, protected by barrier reefs all around. As our skiff skated across the water, flying fish occasionally burst from the wake, skimming away like skipping stones. My brother, sitting up front, was wide-eyed at the scenery. “Now this is a proper dive commute,” he laughed.

A typical morning commute in Palau – cruising through the Rock Islands on the way to the day’s dive sites. The calm lagoon waters and jungle-topped islands make every boat ride a scenic adventure.

We’d arrive at our first dive site in 30-60 minutes, depending on distance. Sam’s guides briefed us thoroughly – Palau’s dives are amazing but can be challenging, so careful briefing is key. Most sites have mooring buoys; we’d back-roll in, descend quickly, and often hook in to watch the show. After the first dive, we’d find a deserted beach for our surface interval. Places like Ulong Island or Two Dogs Beach became our private rest stops. At Ulong (famous as a Survivor TV filming location years ago), we landed on fine white sand under leaning palms. The crew broke out bento lunches and sandwiches while we stretched out in the shade. One day at Ulong’s “Activity Beach,” we even had a taste of local Palauan fare: grilled fish, taro and sweet potato slices, and spinach-like taro leaf patties – hearty and delicious​. Bathwarm water tickled our feet as we waded in the shallows between bites. It’s hard to imagine a better interval between dives than lounging on a pristine island beach, swapping dive tales while reef sharks patrolled just offshore.

Riding the Currents: Palau’s Famous Drift Dives

Palau is legendary for its drift dives, and we hit the big ones right away. Our very first checkout dive was at Siaes Corner (pronounced “sigh-ess”). It set the tone for the week. We dropped in on a reef wall and let a mild current carry us along a vibrant slope teeming with life. Within minutes, a pair of grey reef sharks glided into view, inspecting us. As we rounded the corner that gives Siaes its name, the current picked up speed – time to deploy those reef hooks! We hooked onto rocky ledges at about 50 feet, kneeled against the flow, and became spectators to one of nature’s great shows: a parade of sharks, jacks, and barracuda in the blue.

And that was just the warm-up. Over the next days we dove New Drop-Off (sometimes called “New Corner”) and the crown jewel: Blue Corner. Blue Corner is Palau’s most celebrated dive site – in fact it’s often hailed as one of the top dive sites in the world​. I’ve dove it many times, but it never disappoints. This site is essentially an underwater peninsula where reef fish and big pelagics congregate, drawn by strong currents bringing nutrient-rich water. “Current = life” in Palau, and Blue Corner has plenty of both.

Dropping in at Blue Corner, we finned along a sheer wall dripping with soft corals, spotting gorgonian sea fans and clusters of reef fish. As we approached the plateau, the current ramped up from a gentle push to a robust whoosh. Our guide gave the signal and we all found dead coral patches to hook in. One by one, we secured our reef hooks to the rocks, then drifted up into the water column like human kites on 6-foot tethers​. Instantly, we became part of the reef – hovering effortlessly as the ocean surged past. Once stable, we could take in the full spectacle: schools of grey reef and whitetip sharks cruising just meters away, dozens of bigeye jacks swirling in a silver tornado, and a gang of barracuda hovering in the distance. A massive Napoleon wrasse (a friendly local named “WU” by the guides) swam right up to one diver, nearly startling the regulator out of his mouth. Everywhere we looked there was action. In one thrilling moment, a squadron of eagle rays soared overhead while a shark darted in to snatch a fish – the reef suddenly exploding in a frenzy of movement. We just clung to our hooks, awestruck at being front-row spectators to this wild underwater theater​.

Diver using a reef hook at Blue Corner. Hooking in lets you hover in strong currents while staying anchored to the reef (without damaging it), so you can safely watch the shark action and swirling fish just a few meters away.​

Blue Corner lived up to its reputation and then some. My brother surfaced from that dive with eyes like saucers. “I’ve never seen anything like that,” he kept repeating, a huge smile plastered on his face. This is a guy who started my diving journey years ago back home, and here he was, as giddy as a newbie. For me, seeing him rediscover that childlike excitement was as rewarding as the dive itself.

Other drift dives brought their own flavor. Ulong Channel gave us a high-speed ride over a sandy channel bottom dotted with lettuce corals the size of tabletops. We timed it on an incoming tide, flying through the channel like an undersea roller coaster. At the mouth of Ulong, we paused to watch a congregation of groupers and snappers. This site is famous for mass spawning aggregations of certain fish (especially around full moons), and while we weren’t there at the right time for that, we still saw impressive schools milling about. German Channel, an artificial cut in the reef from WWII days, offered a different drift experience – we drifted slowly searching for manta rays. German Channel is known for mantas that come to feed and visit cleaning stations. We knelt in the sand by a cleaning station, watching cleaner wrasses dance above coral heads like tiny barbershop employees, hoping a manta would swoop in for a spa treatment. Alas, no mantas graced us that day. But even without them, the dive was lovely: garden eels peeking from their sand burrows and a surprise encounter with an enormous marble ray gliding by.

Perhaps my favorite new discovery this trip was Dexter’s Wall. This less-hyped site on the outer reef turned out to be turtle central. We drifted along a beautiful wall and saw green turtles everywhere – some sleeping under overhangs, others munching calmly on soft corals. One particularly friendly turtle swam alongside our group for a while, as if guiding us through his neighborhood. After the adrenaline of the corners, Dexter’s Wall was a tranquil delight, a chance to appreciate the grace of these reef residents up close.

By week’s end, our logbooks were brimming with notes like “strong current, 8 sharks, huge school of barracuda” and “fast drift, epic!”. The famous drift dives more than delivered their promise of adventure.

Gardens of Coral and Light

Not all of Palau’s dives are adrenaline-fueled drifts – some are serene explorations of coral gardens that left us equally mesmerized. On days when the currents were mellower or for a third dive, we often visited sheltered reef sites inside the lagoons. Ngerchong Inside was one such site that stole my heart. It’s a protected coral garden in the inner reef on Palau’s east side. Dropping into Ngerchong Inside was like drifting over an endless botanical garden, except the “flowers” were hard corals in every shape – staghorn thickets, brain corals, rose-like cabbage corals – all thriving and undamaged. The sheer health of the reef was striking; Palau’s marine protections clearly pay off, as the coral cover here is among the highest in the world​. We meandered at a shallow 30 feet, peering under ledges to find scorpionfish perfectly camouflaged in red corals and watching anemonefish wobble among neon anemones. Without the rush of current, this dive let us really absorb the reef’s details. Every few feet another delight: a giant clam with electric blue mantle tissue, a cluster of Christmas tree worms that vanished into their coral heads upon our approach, a hawksbill turtle leisurely grazing on sponges. It was the kind of dive that makes you appreciate the quiet side of Palau.

Another gorgeous site was Lighthouse Reef, near Koror. This is a sloping reef not far from the iconic lighthouse structure on a point. We dove it in the afternoon with golden sunbeams angling into the water. The effect was magical – the whole reef glowed in that sunlight, schools of yellow butterflyfish and purple anthias shimmering like living confetti. One part of Lighthouse Reef features coral bommies riddled with cleaner shrimps. I stopped at one bommie and promptly received a “manicure” from a banded cleaner shrimp that hopped onto my hand and picked at my fingers – a ticklish treat that had me chuckling into my regulator. Our dive guide pointed out a well-camouflaged frogfish here too, looking like a lumpy sponge – how they spot these things, I’ll never know! This easy, shallow dive was a photographer’s dream and a relaxing contrast to the big-wall drift dives.

We also visited Turtle Cove, which starts with a fun little cavern opening on the reef top and leads out to a rich wall. The shallow cavern had soft corals and a few resting white-tip sharks. Once we swam out, we were greeted by an explosion of reef fish – it felt like being inside an aquarium screensaver. True to its name, Turtle Cove delivered turtle sightings galore, and also a memorable encounter with a giant Pacific octopus. One of our divers spotted it wedged under a ledge, its eyes shifting colors. We hovered at a respectful distance as it slowly oozed out, changed from mottled brown to almost white against the coral, and then flowed back into a new crevice – a master of disguise.

Even sites with foreboding names like White Face turned out to be beautiful. White Face is named for a pale limestone cliff above the site, but beneath the water it’s full of color: expansive fields of plate corals and schools of pyramid butterflyfish nibbling at plankton. We did White Face as a drift along the wall when current allowed, but it was mild enough to appreciate the corals. Every dive in Palau, whether heart-pounding or zen-like, offered something exceptional. The variety of environments – sheer walls, gentle slopes, caves, channels – and the biodiversity is just staggering. It’s not an exaggeration to say Palau has everything a diver could want, all in one place.

History Beneath the Waves: World War II Wrecks

Palau’s reefs hold not just natural wonders but historical treasures as well. During World War II, Palau was the site of intense battles (Operation Desecrate One in 1944 saw dozens of Japanese ships sunk in these waters​), and many wrecks now lie quietly on the seabed, now vibrant artificial reefs. As a history buff, I was particularly excited to dive some of Palau’s WWII wrecks, and we managed to fit a couple into our itinerary.

The Iro Maru was a standout wreck dive. The Iro is a Japanese fleet oiler (supply ship) sunk in March 1944, now resting upright in about 40 meters of water near Koror​. We descended down the mooring line and the massive shape of the Iro materialized beneath us. Even after 80 years underwater, the Iro’s structure is remarkably intact – at 470 feet long, it’s huge. We landed near the bow, where iconic guns encrusted in coral point upwards, now home to tiny fish seeking shelter. Swimming along the deck at 80 feet, we encountered lush soft corals swaying in the current. Lionfish hovered under ledges, and big Groupers lurked around the superstructure. Peering into the cargo holds with our flashlights, we saw stacks of old oil drums and machinery now coated in rust and sponge. The atmosphere was both eery and awe-inspiring; sunlight filtered down, illuminating the wreck in hazy blues. At the Iro’s stern, we visited the famous twin kingposts (upright structures) which are draped in brilliant yellow soft corals – a photographer’s delight and a reminder of nature’s reclamation. We even spotted a Pacific hawksbill turtle sleeping on the wreck, unbothered by history.

Another day we dived the Chuyo Maru, a lesser-known wreck that turned out to be teeming with life. The Chuyo was a Japanese cargo ship, sometimes nicknamed the “Lionfish Wreck” because it’s full of lionfish now​. It lies in about 100 ft of water in Malakal Harbor. As we descended, the first thing I noticed was a cloud of purple anthias above the wreck – it looked like a purple snowglobe around the structure. On the deck, dozens of lionfish floated, their spiny fins spread like ornate fans. We kept a respectful distance from those venomous spines while exploring. This wreck is smaller than the Iro, but we could still make out features like the booms and a deck gun. A large moray eel peeked at us from a porthole. Inside the holds, our guide pointed out scattered truck tires and machinery that hinted at the supplies it once carried. Penetration was limited (we didn’t go deep inside, as visibility was a bit silty and not all of us were wreck-trained), but even just circling the wreck was fascinating. It’s incredible to think these metal relics of war have transformed into thriving reefs – history and nature intertwining.

Our group also did a dive at Hafa Adai wreck, which interestingly is not a WWII wreck but a later sunken vessel from the 70s. It’s a fishing or cargo boat that was purpose-sunk and now sits at recreational depth, absolutely loaded with fish life. Hafa Adai was a great macro dive – we found nudibranchs on the rails and watched jawfish hovering over the rubble. The wreck’s mast was covered in bushy black corals and schools of glassfish that parted like glittering curtains as we swam through.

Diving these wrecks added a solemn and intriguing dimension to our trip. For my brother and me, it sparked a lot of reflection – as we both had served in military, so imagining the events around these ships made history feel very real. After surfacing, I would often find my brother a bit quiet, just absorbing the experience of seeing WWII artifacts so transformed by time and sea. It’s powerful to witness how life prevails – vibrant corals and fish now reign where there was once destruction.

Blue Holes, Caverns and Unique Dives

Palau has a few “oddity” dives that don’t fit the usual categories of wall, reef, or wreck. One of the most famous is Blue Holes, essentially an underwater cavern system in the reef top that opens into the ocean. We dived Blue Holes on the same morning as Blue Corner (they’re adjacent sites). The entry is spectacular: four obvious holes in the shallow reef (like skylights) drop into a huge chamber. We descended one by one into a massive cathedral-like cave, 80 feet deep with light shafts beaming down from above – absolutely beautiful. Inside, we found surreal stalactite formations and a resident school of blacktail snappers hovering in the blue-lit space. The ambient light streaming through the holes created a heavenly atmosphere; it’s a wide cavern so not claustrophobic at all. After marveling inside the Blue Holes, we exited out along the wall and (as a bonus) drifted right into Blue Corner for yet another hook-in shark spectacle. Talk about an epic combo dive!

Another memorable site was Sandbar, a shallow area inside the lagoon where we did a late-afternoon dive. As the name suggests, it’s a sandy flats area next to some mini patch reefs. Why dive a sand bar? Two words: mandarin fish. At dusk, in a certain spot known to guides, we tucked in and watched for the courting dance of the mandarin fish – those psychedelic-colored little dragonets. And they did show up! Just as the sun was setting, we saw several mandarin fish emerge from the coral rubble, the males shimmying and displaying to females. With patience, we witnessed a mating rise – a pair swirling upward in a blink-and-you-miss-it embrace, releasing eggs and sperm before darting back down. It was a tiny, magical drama to observe. Meanwhile, nearby in the sand, we caught sight of the eerie flashing of bioluminescent ostracods (little crustaceans) as full darkness set in. That dive was totally different in pace and subject, yet utterly captivating.

One dive I personally skipped (but a few in our group, including my brother, did) was Chandelier Cave. This is a unique cavern dive near Koror: a network of five water-filled chambers inside a limestone island, with air pockets and stalactites that look like chandeliers. I’d done it on a past trip and, while cool, I opted out this time to relax on the boat (cave environments aren’t my favorite). My brother, however, was eager for the experience. He emerged after their short dive practically glowing. Inside the cave, they had navigated through room after room with their flashlights revealing glittering crystal formations above the surface. He excitedly recounted how in one chamber they surfaced into air and sat in darkness, listening to the drip of water and imagining ancient Palauans using these caves. He also got to see the famed mandarin fish Lake just outside the cave entrance – a shallow lagoon area where, at dusk, mandarin fish can be spotted (similar to what we saw at Sandbar). I lived that dive vicariously through his storytelling, and was happy he got to check it off his bucket list.

The Lake We Didn’t Dive: Jellyfish Lake’s Secret

One famed attraction notably absent from our week was Jellyfish Lake. Palau’s Jellyfish Lake (Ongeim’l Tketau) is often a must-see: a marine lake isolated from the ocean, home to millions of golden jellyfish that have evolved to lose their stings. Snorkeling among these gentle jellies is otherworldly. However, we ultimately decided not to include it in this trip’s itinerary. Partly, we were so dive-focused that we simply ran out of time for a non-diving excursion. But we were also aware that Jellyfish Lake has had some ecological ups and downs in recent years.

The jellyfish population in the lake goes through natural boom-and-bust cycles. In 2016, a severe drought and heat event caused the golden jellyfish numbers to plummet dramatically, leading Palau’s authorities to close the lake for conservation​. Thankfully, after a few years the jellies bounced back and the lake reopened in late 2018​. By the time of our trip in late October, the jellies were there – but perhaps not yet back to their former astounding millions. The lake is open to visitors under careful management, but we opted to skip it this time to focus on diving (and to avoid any extra stress on the recovering ecosystem). Some of our group were disappointed, but we understood that Jellyfish Lake will still be there next time – hopefully flourishing even more. In a way, this decision gives us a perfect excuse to return to Palau again (as if we needed one!).

We still chatted about the lake’s uniqueness: how these jellyfish survive by hosting algae in their tissues and migrate across the lake daily following the sun, and how the lake’s layers include a toxic hydrogen sulfide zone below the habitat of the jellies (meaning you can’t dive it, only snorkel). It’s an ecological marvel that I look forward to experiencing on a future trip when conditions are just right. For now, we were content knowing we’d experienced Palau’s main wonders and left Jellyfish Lake for another adventure.

Surface Intervals on Cloud 9

Diving in Palau is only half the fun – the time between dives, spent out on the water or on secluded beaches, was just as enchanting and cemented the vibe of this trip. After each morning dive, our boat would nose into a tiny nook of the Rock Islands for our surface interval or lunch break. Two Dogs Beach became one of our favorites. This little cove has two peculiar rock formations (the “dogs”) and a stretch of sand just big enough for a picnic. We’d clamber out of the boat, stretch our legs, and explore. Often we were the only humans around, but we certainly weren’t alone – hermit crabs the size of golf balls scuttled about and fruit bats sometimes fluttered overhead, roosting in the trees.

On one lunch break at Two Dogs, the tide was low, revealing a sandbar extending into the lagoon. A few of us waded out, the water barely to our knees, to see baby blacktip reef sharks weaving around our legs in search of scraps. They were totally unafraid (and uninterested in us), maybe 1-2 feet long – absolutely adorable to watch up close. Meanwhile, our boat captain had husked a coconut and was sharing fresh slices of sweet coconut meat with everyone. The combination of warm sun, clear water, baby sharks, and a mouthful of fresh coconut… it felt like a dream.

Some surface intervals doubled as short hikes or snorkels. Near Ulong Island, we did a quick scramble up a limestone outcrop to peek at an alleged Yamato-era cannon hidden in the foliage (Palau’s wartime relics pop up in surprising places). Another time, at Milky Way (a cove known for its skin-nourishing white limestone mud), our guides invited us for a muddy spa session. We jumped in, scooped up handfuls of slick white mud from the bottom, and smeared it on our skin and faces. Laughter ensued as we all became ghostly mud monsters. After letting it dry and doing our best faux beauty-pageant poses, we rinsed off in the sea, skin feeling oddly smooth. It’s touristy and silly – and we loved every minute.

Simply cruising back to port each day was a pleasure. Often we’d take a slightly longer route through the labyrinth of Rock Islands, treating it like a mini scenic tour. One late afternoon, the water was so calm it became a mirror, doubling the greenery of the islands in reflection. The whole boat fell quiet, just soaking in the beauty. I remember looking at my brother, who was leaning on the bow rail with his eyes closed, wind in his face, completely at peace. The sun was dipping lower, casting golden light on everything. In that calm moment, with Palau’s lagoon glistening like polished glass, I felt a swell of gratitude – for this place, for the ocean, and for the chance to be here with him.

Evenings in Palau: Food, Friendship, and Island Culture

After our dive days, we’d return to the resort salty, sun-kissed, and hungry. Evenings in Palau became a delightful routine of their own, filled with good food and camaraderie. One thing I love about group trips is the post-dive ritual: gathering around a table, raising a cold beverage, and reliving the day’s best moments (there’s a running joke that divers have the memory of goldfish underwater but become master storytellers after a beer!). Our group certainly upheld that tradition.

Palau offers a surprisingly diverse dining scene, and we made it a mission to sample the best of Koror’s restaurants. Our unanimous favorite dinner spot turned out to be The Taj, an Indian restaurant that is nothing short of phenomenal. Imagine – you’re on a tiny island in the Pacific, and you find some of the best Indian curry you’ve ever had. But it’s true: The Taj served up fragrant curries, fresh-baked naan, and tandoori dishes that rival anything back in a big city. We feasted on butter chicken and spicy vindaloo, and even the locals in our group swore by the place. After days of dive-boat sandwiches, sinking into plush chairs and savoring those rich flavors was heavenly.

For a more upscale island vibe, we dined at Elilai Seaside Dining on another evening. This open-air restaurant sits by the water and pairs Pacific Rim cuisine with a gorgeous sunset view of the Rock Islands. We arrived just in time to watch the sky turn tangerine orange over the bay. As for the food – I still dream about the locally caught tuna I had there, seared perfectly and served with a Japanese-Palauan fusion sauce. They also offered local specialties like taro leaf soup and grilled crayfish. The mix of local ingredients with international flair made Elilai a standout. My brother and I used that dinner as his 60th birthday celebration night. I quietly let the staff know, and they sweetly brought out a dessert with Happy Birthday scrawled in chocolate, singing to him. He was genuinely touched, and I could see him holding back some tears (as was I).

For casual nights (which was most nights), Kramer’s Café and Drop Off Bar & Grill were our go-to’s. Kramer’s is a laid-back bar/restaurant by a marina, with excellent fresh fish specials and an unbeatable outdoor deck. We’d grab Red Rooster beers (Palau’s local brew) and dig into plates of fish tacos or blackened mahi mahi. One night they had live music – a guy with a guitar playing island-style covers – which just amplified the good vibes. Drop Off Bar & Grill, located conveniently near Sam’s Tours, became our default for post-dive beers. They do a mean burger and have super fresh sashimi. Our whole group would often end up there, still in our damp dive t-shirts, clinking glasses of local Taro beer or just classic San Miguel, and watching the dive boats come in at sunset.

Lunches were sometimes on the boat (packed by Sam’s or the bento from PRR), but on our non-diving day we tried Barracuda Restaurant in Koror for a sit-down midday meal. Barracuda is known for its Mediterranean-inspired menu and is a popular lunch spot. I loved their take on poke bowls and they had great vegetarian options too (a couple in our group were vegetarian and appreciated this). It’s only open for lunch, and it was nice to have a leisurely meal on terra firma for a change, complete with iced lattes and even some homemade baklava for dessert – a fun break from our routine of boat sandwiches.

Besides eating, our evenings sometimes included a bit of exploring Koror town. Koror isn’t big – it’s a small, friendly town that’s easy to stroll. We checked out a few local shops for souvenirs (storyboards are the famous Palauan wood carvings – my brother picked one depicting a traditional legend to take home). One afternoon we visited the Belau National Museum, which offered insight into Palau’s culture and history, from ancient times to Spanish, German, Japanese colonial periods and WWII. It was a reminder that there’s so much more to these islands beyond the water.

I also took a couple of early morning walks near the resort, where I got a glimpse of local life: kids in crisp school uniforms heading to class, fishermen selling the night’s catch at a roadside stand (gorgeous tuna and wahoo that would likely end up as someone’s dinner special), and women weaving palm fronds for that day’s cultural event. Everywhere we went, the Palauan people were warm and welcoming. We learned a few words of Palauan – “Alii” for hello, and “Sulang” for thank you – which always brought a smile when we tried them out. The sense of community and respect for nature (the Palau Pledge really isn’t just for show) left a strong impression on all of us.

A Reunion 20 Years in the Making

Amid all these dives and adventures, the true treasure of this trip for me was the time with my brother. I invited him along as a 60th birthday gift, hoping to reconnect in a meaningful way. We hadn’t had such extended one-on-one time in over two decades. Life happened – I immigrated to the U.S. from Israel 20 years ago, he stayed back home, and aside from brief family visits, we never really hung out like we used to. When our mother passed away last year, it was a wake-up call. He had been the rock of the family through that tough time, handling so much. I realized then how much I missed him and how much I wanted to share a big part of my life – diving – with him again, like when we were younger.

Throughout this trip, in between the school of sharks and coral mazes, we found pieces of us again. It started on the plane rides – long hours where we talked about everything from childhood memories to future dreams. But it really solidified underwater. Diving is my profession and passion, something I usually experience with students or groups. Having my brother as my dive buddy on these bucket-list sites was incredibly special. Underwater, we communicated with hand signals and wide-eyed glances, but that was enough to say “Can you believe this?!”. I’ll never forget at Blue Corner, while hooked in, I glanced over at him – he gave me an OK sign and did a little wiggle dance out of pure excitement. I burst out laughing in my regulator. In that moment we were just two kids again, sharing an adventure and a private joke in a silent world of blue.

One evening after a particularly stunning day (I think it was the day we did Blue Holes/Blue Corner and had the turtle-fest at Dexter’s Wall), we sat on the dock at the resort, feet dangling in the water. The moon was out, lighting up the lagoon. We were quiet for a while, sipping a last beer. Then he said softly, “Mom would’ve loved hearing about this.” That opened the door we’d kind of been avoiding. We talked about Mom – how she would have been happy knowing we were together now. We allowed ourselves a few tears and a tight hug. In that hug was a lot of unspoken emotion – grief, gratitude, love, and the relief of reconnection. I told him how thankful I was for all he did for the family when I was an ocean away, and he brushed it off humbly, but I think he was glad to hear it.

The rest of the trip, I noticed a difference in us. We were easier in our conversations, quicker to joke, and also comfortable in silence. During one surface interval, as everyone chatted, we found ourselves quietly sitting back, just passing a bag of dried mangoes between us, not needing to fill the space with words. It felt like we’d rediscovered an old, well-worn groove in our relationship.

On the last dive of the trip, I let my brother and the guide go ahead a bit, and I hung back to just watch him for a minute. He was engrossed, peering into a crevice looking for critters, completely in his element. In that instant, I felt so proud and happy. We had done this incredible journey together and it exceeded anything I imagined. It wasn’t just the dives – it was the healing and closeness that came with them. For me, as a dive leader, I often focus on giving others a great experience. This time, the ocean gave me an experience – it brought my brother and me back together in a way nothing else could.

As we packed our gear on the final day, my brother joked, “So where are we going next year?” with a mischievous grin. I laughed, but inside I was already thinking maybe Galápagos? Or back to Palau for Jellyfish Lake? Who knows. What I do know is that we won’t let another 20 years go by before the next deep adventure. This journey has been a reminder that life is short, the world is wide, and sharing what you love with the people you love is the ultimate adventure.

Conclusion – Until Next Time, Palau

Leaving Palau was hard. On our last morning, I got up early and watched the sunrise paint the sky pink over the lagoon. The gear was packed, our logbooks filled, our hearts full. We came to Palau chasing world-class dives, and it delivered that in spades – sharks galore, pristine corals, thrilling drifts, and historic wrecks. But I’m leaving with something more profound: a renewed bond with my brother and a slew of memories that we’ll reminisce about for years.

As we flew out over the island, I could trace the routes of our dive boats through the island maze below, like little threads connecting moments: there, Blue Corner’s reef hook arena; over there, Ulong’s sandy lunch beach; further south, the lagoon that hides the Iro wreck. Palau isn’t just a spot on the map to me now – it’s a chapter of my life story, one where personal and professional passions converged in the best way possible.

I’m already planning to return (some of our group insisted I organize another trip soon, and who am I to say no?). Maybe next time we’ll stay a few nights out at Carp Island or do a liveaboard to reach the further sites like Peleliu. Palau has more to show – we barely scratched the surface of the dives around Peleliu, and there are cultural experiences we didn’t get to, like visiting a traditional village or the WWII museum on Peleliu. And of course, Jellyfish Lake remains on the to-do list.

Whether you’re a seasoned diver or just someone with a penchant for adventure, Palau casts a spell that’s hard to shake. It’s the kind of place where the journey (long as it is) is absolutely worth the destination, where the line between dreams and reality blurs underwater, and where you just might reconnect with more than just nature – perhaps even with a piece of yourself or someone you love.

My dive shop, Colorado Scuba Diving Academy was instrumental in pulling this group adventure together, and I’m grateful I got to lead it. If reading this stirs that diver’s soul in you, I invite you to follow those stirrings. Palau is waiting, and the next time I go, I would be thrilled to help you write your own Palau story. Until next time – Sulang, Palau. Thank you for everything.

Palau Dive Trip FAQ – Practical Tips for Your Adventure

1. When is the best time to dive in Palau?
Palau is a year-round diving destination, with warm water (~28°C/82°F) and air temps around 28-30°C (82-86°F) all year​. There isn’t a bad time, but Dec-March is considered peak season for diving – seas are typically calmest and visibility is superb (often 30m+). We went in late October, which is a transitional season: we had some rain showers (mostly at night) and a couple of breezy days, but overall conditions were great​​. If you want the absolutely flattest seas and don’t mind more crowds, winter months are ideal. If you go in the rainy season (July-September), expect more frequent rain and slightly reduced viz (15-20m), but fewer divers and potentially lower rates​. Bottom line: you can dive Palau any month and have a fantastic time. Just pack a light rain jacket if you go in the wetter months and be ready for minor schedule tweaks if a storm blows through.

2. What marine life can I expect to see?
In short – an abundance of everything! Palau’s marine biodiversity is off the charts​. Sharks are a highlight: grey reef sharks and whitetip reef sharks are common on almost every dive, especially at the famous sites (Blue Corner, Ulong, etc.). We saw sharks on every single dive. Manta rays are frequently seen at German Channel (best chances in winter months when plankton blooms draw them in). Turtles (mostly green and hawksbill) are all over, especially at sites like Dexter’s Wall and Turtle Cove. You’ll see schools of barracuda, jacks, and snappers on the big current dives. Napoleon wrasse (Maori wrasse) are tame and often approach divers at Blue Corner and German Channel – these huge, friendly fish are a joy to encounter. On the reefs, expect clouds of reef fish: angelfish, butterflyfish, parrotfish (including bumphead parrotfish, which aggregate in big numbers to spawn at Full Moon). The coral itself is stunning – hard corals in the lagoons and soft corals on the walls. Macro life is there if you look: nudibranchs, gobies, mantis shrimp, and the quirky mandarin fish in specific spots. We even saw octopus, scorpionfish, and moral eels. If you’re very lucky (and perhaps on a liveaboard to off-shore sites or deeper dives), there’s a chance for pelagics like hammerhead sharks or even whale sharks, but those are less common. Palau also has the only saltwater crocodiles in Micronesia, but don’t worry – they’re rarely seen and not typically in dive areas (mostly mangroves). Snorkeling Jellyfish Lake (when open) lets you see the millions of golden jellyfish up close. In summary, Palau offers a Big Fish Capital experience with the intimate reef life of a coral paradise – truly the best of both worlds.

3. Are Palau’s dives suitable for beginners?
Palau’s diving is best for intermediate to advanced divers. Many signature dives (Blue Corner, Ulong Channel, Siaes Corner) involve strong currents and require comfort with drift diving and using a reef hook. Depths can be 18-30m (60-100ft) on those sites. That said, beginners are not completely excluded – there are calm sites like Ngerchong Inside, German Channel (when current isn’t ripping), and various protected reefs where currents are mild. If you’re an Open Water diver with limited experience, you can still enjoy Palau, but I highly recommend getting an Advanced Open Water certification and some drift diving experience beforehand to make the most of it. The dive operators in Palau do a good job of grouping divers by experience. They won’t throw a newbie into a full-force Blue Corner current without proper guidance. If you are a newer diver, consider hiring a private guide or stick to sites within your comfort. And don’t be shy about snorkeling on the heavy current dives – for example, Blue Corner has a lovely reef top you can snorkel while the advanced divers hook in below. Also, Palau’s wreck dives like the Iro are around 25-30m, which is at the limit of rec depth – better for those with deep diving experience. In our group, we had divers with 20 dives up to 1000 dives. Everyone had a blast, but the ones with more experience definitely got to do the “A-list” sites more frequently. So, seasoned divers: bring your reef hook, your Nitrox cert (helps extend bottom time on those deeper sites), and maybe a pointer to hold onto rocks in current. Beginners: don’t be deterred, just come prepared to learn and possibly sit out the gnarliest dives. There’s plenty to enjoy at every level.

4. Which dive operator do you recommend in Palau?
We dived with Sam’s Tours and I can personally vouch that they were fantastic – professional, safety-conscious, and fun. Sam’s has comfy boats, excellent dive guides, and they handled all our gear and park permits seamlessly. They also have a nice waterfront facility (with a bar/restaurant on site – great for after-dive hangouts). Other reputable operators include Fish ’n Fins, Neco Marine, Palau Dive Adventures, and the liveaboards (Palau Aggressor II, Rock Islands Aggressor, Ocean Hunter, etc., if you prefer a liveaboard experience). Honestly, Palau’s main dive shops all have good reputations. It can depend on where you stay (some resorts have on-site operators). If you go with a group or through an organizer like BlueBound Travel, they’ll usually coordinate with one of the top outfits. Key things to consider: do they provide Nitrox? (Most do – Sam’s certainly does, and we used Nitrox 32% on all dives for extra bottom time). What’s the diver-to-guide ratio? (We had about 6 divers per guide). Do they have facilities for rinse, gear storage, etc.? Sam’s, for example, kept our gear all week – we didn’t have to lug it back and forth to the hotel. If you have specific needs (e.g., you want a private guide, or you’re a photographer needing special accommodations), mention that when booking. Overall, you’re in good hands with the major operators. Many of the guides have decades of experience on these sites. BlueBound Travel often works with these operators to arrange group trips, so that’s a convenient route if you want a package deal with accommodation and diving bundled.

5. How do I get to Palau?
Palau feels remote (and it is), but there are a few relatively convenient routes. The main point of entry is Roman Tmetuchl International Airport (ROR) in Koror. From the U.S., common routes include flying via Honolulu and Guam (United Airlines operates island-hopper routes), or via Taipei, Taiwan (China Airlines has flights from Taipei to Palau – that’s how we went). For example, we flew Denver → LAX → Taipei → Palau. There are also flights via Seoul, South Korea (Korean Air) and occasionally via Manila, Philippines (Philippine Airlines). From Europe, you’d connect through one of those Asian hubs like Taipei, Seoul, or Manila. Flights aren’t daily from all hubs, so you might have specific days to travel. Our flight from Taipei to Palau was an overnight ~4-hour hop. Guam to Palau is only about 2-3 hours. Pro tip: plan for the crossing the dateline if coming from the East – you lose a day on the way out, and you might have odd hours (many flights land in Palau in the late evening or very early morning). On arrival, airport transfers are usually pre-arranged by your hotel or dive operator (it’s a small airport, easy to navigate). No visas needed for most nationalities; they’ll stamp your passport with the Palau Pledge. When departing Palau, there’s a departure tax + green fee (around $100 total) usually – sometimes this is included in your ticket now, but have some cash just in case. All in all, travel to Palau is long but manageable – consider a stopover in Taipei or Seoul if you want to break it up and see another city. Once you arrive in Palau, trust me, the journey will feel 100% worth it when you take that first boat ride out.

6. What’s the topside situation? Activities for non-divers or rest days?
Palau isn’t just about diving; there’s plenty to do above the surface. If you have non-divers with you (spouses, kids, friends) or you’re taking a day off from diving, consider these options:

• Rock Island Tour & Snorkeling: A day trip by speedboat through the Rock Islands, including stops at Jellyfish Lake (if open), Milky Way (mud bath lagoon), and various snorkel spots like Soft Coral Garden or Clam City. These tours are stunning and require no dive cert. Even as divers, we enjoy these because the shallow reefs and scenery are phenomenal.
• Kayaking: Palau has gorgeous lagoons and hidden marine lakes perfect for sea kayaking. You can do guided kayaking tours that explore caves, mangroves, and lesser-seen areas of the Rock Islands. Great way to exercise and sightsee quietly.
• Peleliu Island WWII Tour: History buffs will appreciate a land tour of Peleliu (a southern island, 1-2 hours by boat or a short flight). It was the site of a major WWII battle. You can visit war memorials, old tanks, cave systems, and the small museum there. It’s a full-day trip, often combined with a couple of dives in Peleliu if you want (Peleliu diving has some intense sites like Peleliu Express). Even as a standalone, the historical tour is humbling and informative.
• Ngardmau Waterfall Hike: On Babeldaob (Palau’s largest island), you can hike to Palau’s largest waterfall. It’s a sweaty jungle hike (or there’s a zipline/trolley option partway), but the falls are beautiful and you can swim in the pool. Along the way you’ll see remains of an old Japanese railway. It’s a nice way to see Palau’s jungle interior.
• Cultural sites: Check out Bai (traditional meeting houses) like the one in Airai, with impressively painted storyboards. The Belau National Museum and the Etpison Museum in Koror are small but rich with Palauan artifacts, history, and culture – worth a visit. There’s also a dolphin research center and a crocodile farm, though I skipped those due to personal ethical preference.
• Relax at the resort: Palau Royal Resort, for example, has a nice beach and pool. The Palau Pacific Resort (PPR) is another popular place with a beautiful beach, and non-guests can often get a day pass to enjoy it. A lazy beach day with a book and the occasional snorkel from shore (PPR has a decent house reef for snorkeling) can be just what you need to recharge between dive days.
• Fishing: If you’re into angling, Palau offers saltwater fishing charters. Just note that Palau is very conservation-minded, so many areas are no-fishing zones and catch-and-release is encouraged for certain species. In short, non-divers will not be bored in Palau. It’s a nature lover’s playground above water too. The vibe is very relaxed and safe, so even just exploring Koror, hitting some cafes, or walking the “KB Bridge” between Koror and Babeldaob for views can be enjoyable. Our group had one non-diver spouse, and she did a mix of museum visits, spa treatments, and joined the snorkel day tour – she left extremely happy with her Palau experience.

7. What about dining and food tips in Palau?
You won’t go hungry, that’s for sure! Palau has a mix of cuisines reflecting its multicultural community (Palauan, Japanese, Filipino, American, etc.) and tourism influences. We already raved about some favorites – The Taj (for Indian), Elilai (for fine dining, seafood, and sunset views), Kramer’s (for local seafood and chill bar scene), Drop Off Bar & Grill (for casual eats, burgers, and beer). A few more to consider:

• Carp Restaurant – local Palauan cuisine; if you want to try something truly local like fruit bat soup or taro pancakes, this is the place. (Yes, fruit bat soup is a Palauan delicacy – I admit I didn’t try it, but it’s there for the adventurous).
• Yokohama – a Japanese restaurant for sushi and ramen. Palau has a connection with Japan, and you can get very fresh sushi here (the tuna, being locally caught, is excellent).
• Coffee and dessert – There are a couple of cafes in Koror like Rock Island Cafe and Bem Ermii (also known for its burgers and milkshakes). Great for an afternoon ice cream or milkshake. There’s also a popular gelato place called Icebox.
• Local beer and beverages – Palau’s Red Rooster brewery produces a range of beers (IPA, Stout, Wheat, etc.). Try them! For an island cocktail, many bars serve a drink called Coconut Monkey (a sweet blend in a coconut) or simply enjoy young coconut water straight from the fruit, which is sold at road stalls. Bottled water is widely available but Palau prides itself on reducing plastic use – many hotels provide refillable bottles or water stations (the tap water in town is generally safe if boiled or filtered).
• Grocery stores – If you’re on a budget or have long stay, there are supermarkets like WCTC or Surangel’s where you can get snacks, fruits, etc. (Lots of imported goods, a bit pricey, but good selection). Don’t miss trying local banana or taro chips for your boat snack. One tip: Restaurants in Palau operate on “island time” – service can be slower than you might be used to, so relax and don’t expect New York minute service. Enjoy the company and the island pace. Also, making reservations for dinner (especially for larger groups) is wise, because some places get fully booked with dive groups. Our guide helped call ahead when we needed. Lastly, remember that many establishments add a 10% service charge by default, so check your bill to avoid double tipping (though extra tipping for great service is always appreciated).

8. Any other practical notes or advice for a Palau trip?
A few parting tips from my experience:

• Documents & Money: Palau uses the US Dollar, and while credit cards are accepted at many dive shops and restaurants, some smaller places are cash only. Bring enough cash for tips, small purchases, and the departure tax (if it’s not in your ticket). ATMs exist but can be finicky or have limits. No visa required for US, EU, many others – but check if your country needs a visa. You’ll get a 30-day entry stamp usually.
• Permits & Fees: If you’re diving, you’ll need a Rock Islands Permit ($50 for 10 days) and if you plan to do Jellyfish Lake, a separate permit ($100) that usually includes Rock Islands as well. These often can be arranged via your dive operator. We got ours on day one through Sam’s (just had to fill a form and pay, they got the permits for us). Keep your permit ticket with you for the duration; rangers do spot-check at popular sites.
• Environmental Protection: Palau is very serious about conservation. Sunscreen: Only use reef-safe sunscreen (zinc-based, no oxybenzone) – they will check and ask at some places, and anyway it’s the right thing to do. I mostly wore a rash guard and used minimal sunscreen. No gloves while diving – except maybe on wrecks if permitted, but generally gloves are discouraged to prevent touching. Don’t even think about taking marine life souvenirs (shells, etc.) – illegal and against the Palau pledge. Basically, be a responsible eco-conscious visitor.
• Dive Gear: Most operators have quality rental gear if you need. I do recommend bringing your own reef hook if you have one, although operators will lend or sell you one (Sam’s provided hooks for those who didn’t have). A SMB (surface marker buoy) is a must in case you get separated in currents – our guides carried one for the group, but I like having my own. Dive computer is essential given the profiles and multiple dives per day. Wetsuit – water is warm, I was fine in a 3mm full suit. Some dove in shorts and rashguard, but I like full coverage for protection. Booties and open heel fins are useful because some shore or boat entries you step on rough ground.
• Health & Safety: There is a hyperbaric chamber on Palau (in Koror) – a reassuring fact, though dive safe so you never need it. We had everyone on Nitrox which adds a safety margin. Stay hydrated (tropical heat + diving can dehydrate you fast – we all drank tons of water and coconut water). For general travel, bring any prescription meds you need (pharmacies are limited). Mosquitoes can be around at dusk/jungle – a bit of bug spray for hikes or waterfall visits is good, though we didn’t experience many bugs on the water.
• Connectivity: WiFi in Palau is improving but can be slow/costly. Our hotel had WiFi in lobby and rooms, workable for email and messaging. Sim cards/data are available (PalauCel or PT Wave), but again not cheap. Consider it a partial digital detox opportunity. We found that by not staring at phones, our group spent more quality time together (plus you’ll be too busy diving and exploring).
• Cultural respect: Palauans are very friendly. Dress modestly when not at the beach/dive boat (e.g., walking in town, it’s polite for men to wear a shirt and women not to just be in bikinis). Tipping isn’t a huge local custom, but for dive crews and waitstaff who predominantly serve tourists, it’s appreciated (we tipped our dive guides at the end of the week and gave the boat crew something as well; also tipped restaurant staff if service wasn’t already included).
• BlueBound Travel: Since this blog is for BlueBound Travel, I’ll note – if you prefer not to DIY all these logistics, going through a dive travel specialist (like BlueBound) can simplify things. They handle the package of flights, hotel, dive operator, and often you get the benefit of a group leader (like me, on this trip) who knows the ropes. It can actually save you money and definitely saves you stress, plus you meet new dive buddies.

9. I’m sold! What’s the next step?
If Palau is calling to you – listen. It’s a rare place that lives up to its legend. That said, planning a Palau trip takes more than a quick search. Timing, dive site selection, permits, flight connections, accommodations, and marine conditions all play a role. There’s a lot to juggle, especially if you want to hit the best sites at the right times and avoid unnecessary hassle. While it’s certainly possible to go on your own, traveling with someone who knows the ins and outs of Palau can make all the difference. Whether you’re looking for the best dive conditions, smart logistics, or simply want to focus on the experience rather than the planning, consider that a professionally led trip might be the way to go. And if it’s timed right, maybe you’ll join us on the next one.

10. What makes Palau so special?
I’ll end on this – Palau isn’t just another dive destination; it’s a place that sticks with you. The combination of mind-blowing underwater encounters, the pristine natural beauty above water, and the genuine hospitality and culture of the Palauan people creates a deeply fulfilling experience. Many of us on this trip had dreamed of Palau for years, and it managed to exceed those high expectations while also touching us on a personal level. In Palau, you feel a connection – to the ocean, to history, to your dive buddies, to simple joy. That, to me, is what makes it magic.

If you’re even remotely considering it – go. And maybe, just maybe, bring someone along you’ve been meaning to spend quality time with. You might come for the mantas and sharks, but you could leave with one of the best memories of your life (I know I did). Happy bubbles and safe travels!

Palau a “telungalek” (Palau – you are beautiful). “Sulang!” (Thank you!)