09-03-2025
The tropical islands home to a Second World War underwater graveyard
The jagged-edged gash where the torpedo struck just over 80 years ago is dark and forbidding. Exhaled bubbles rumble past my ears as I sink slowly into the rupture that doomed this Japanese freighter as it lay at anchor in Chuuk's vast lagoon in February 1944.
Bright blue becomes inky black, until the cone of light from my torch starts to pick out marine life that has made the twisted steel interior home. Multicoloured fish move lazily away, and the dive master motions to me to make sure that my equipment is tucked away to avoid snags.
We descend deeper into the devastated bow section of the 8,614-ton Kiyosumi Maru, which lies on its port side in around 100 feet of water, and exit through cargo hatches that were torn away in the explosion below decks. I fin along the superstructure, passing beneath a king post and into another hold full of steel drums. A bicycle is angled against a bulkhead.
We stop to complete a mandatory decompression right beside the hull, adorned with corals that ripple in the sunlight filtering down from above the surface, as well as sake bottles, broken chinaware, ammunition boxes and binoculars on a tripod that previous divers have recovered from inside the wreck.
The Kiyosumi Maru was sunk in an attack by aircraft launched from the USS Yorktown and USS Enterprise on the first day of Operation Hailstone, the attack on Imperial Japan's most important naval base in the central Pacific – so important, in fact, that in the 1940s it became known as 'the Gibraltar of the Pacific'.
In the space of two days, US dive and torpedo bombers sank around 60 Japanese ships, the vast majority transport vessels, but also including destroyers, patrol ships and even the I-169 submarine.
US fighters also shot down dozens of Japanese aircraft, but the attacking force did not escape entirely unscathed. The legacy of the battle lies scattered across the seabed to this day, earning Chuuk the reputation of being the best wreck diving spot in the world.
And, at 822 square miles within a 140-mile coral reef, the lagoon has plenty of secrets still to be discovered. In the last two years, yet another Japanese ship and a shot-down US aircraft have been discovered in its depths.
For the remaining 18 months of the Second World War, Truk, as it was then known, was largely by-passed as the Allies island-hopped across the Pacific, although one of the last actions against the isolated garrison in June 1945 was by aircraft from the British Pacific Fleet as part of Operation Inmate. And then peace returned.
A little more than 3,500 miles west of Hawaii, Chuuk was originally settled in the first century by Melanesians who explored the Pacific aboard huge sea-going canoes. The first European explorers to spot the archipelago, in 1528, were Spaniards who claimed the territory for their king. The islands were sold to Germany in 1899, but claimed by Japan when Berlin was defeated in the First World War.
After Japan's surrender in 1945, the islands became a United Nations Trust Territory until Chuuk united with Yap, Pohnpei and Kosrae to become the Federated States of Micronesia, attaining independence in November 1986, albeit allied closely with the United States.
Largely due to its isolation in the central Pacific, Chuuk avoided the mass tourism that has afflicted Hawaii, Guam and other more accessible islands. The result is fairly rudimentary infrastructure, including primary roads that should only be attempted in four-wheel drive vehicles, and a decidedly laid-back atmosphere.
The majority of the 53,000 Chuukese live on Weno, with motor boats constantly plying the lagoon to deliver people and goods to dozens of outer islands.
The state's tourism agency is trying to expand its offerings, with visitors able to arrange an overnight stay on uninhabited Jeep Island and discussions about finding ways to showcase local canoe carvers' rare skills. Nevertheless, Chuuk relies most heavily on those with an interest in military history.
In the hills above Weno's port, the road comes to an abrupt end. I continue through knee-high undergrowth past a ramshackle home and into a tunnel hewn into the face of Mount Tonoken. The passage takes a sharp turn and I am standing at the breech of a large artillery piece still trained out over the lagoon.
On the most north-easterly tip of Weno – after a kidney-bruising drive and jungle hike – is an old Japanese lighthouse that was targeted in the American attacks. The original tiled floor is still in place, along with the rusting mechanism for the light, but chunks of the exterior walls have been ripped out by heavy-calibre bullets, leaving fist-sized holes that reveal the inner steel supports.
But despite all the draws on land, it is still the underwater attractions that really bring people to Chuuk. Diving aficionados say there are simply too many wrecks in the lagoon to explore on a single visit, and that even a return to the same site will always reveal something new.
The San Francisco Maru has three tanks sitting on its amidships, trucks in its hold and a bow gun encrusted with colourful coral. The holds of the Sankisan Maru – torn in half by an almighty explosion – still hold aircraft parts, ammunition and supplies. Entering the Fujikawa Maru reveals machine gun rounds and the wings of fighter aircraft, while the officers' head can be explored by the cautious.
I am, once again, falling down a shaft of light from the surface, following a tether that ends at a coral ahead off the island Dublon. Just 50 feet down, marine life has taken a good hold on the Kawanishi four-engine long-range reconnaissance aircraft, which was attacked outside the lagoon but limped back to Chuuk only to crash on landing and sink.
Given the Allied code-name Emily, the aft section of the fuselage is broken off at an angle, but the 124-foot wings are still intact. The four engines have fallen from their mountings, while the two wingtip pontoons were torn away in the heavy landing but remain attached to the wreck by guy wires.
I swim beneath the port wing, my silver bubbles collecting in dents in the aluminium above me, and emerge alongside what is left of the cockpit. Remarkably, the glass is intact and schools of tiny reef fish in incredible colours dart around the interior.
My gauge is showing it is time to return to the surface. I look forward to the first ice cold beer washing away the salty tang of the lagoon – but I know my mind will linger down here long after I've returned to the world above.
Essentials
Getting to Chuuk is not cheap, and requires various connections. The easiest route is London to Frankfurt (Lufthansa), Frankfurt to Tokyo (ANA; Tokyo to Guam, and Guam to Chuuk (both United Airlines), which costs around £5,414 return.
The Blue Lagoon Resort has superior double rooms from $148/£117 per night, room only.
The resort's dive shop offers two dives in one day for $150/£118, plus rental of equipment and a $50/£40 dive permit.
