Things to Do in Marshall Islands in August

August's calmer winds mean the normally choppy Majuro lagoon turns surprisingly clear. Visibility can reach 15 meters (50 feet) on good days, revealing coral bommies teeming with parrotfish and the occasional blacktip reef shark. The water temperature sits at a bath-like 29°C (84°F). You can stay in for hours without a wetsuit. Watch those afternoon clouds building over Rita. That's your cue to head back before the rain hits.

The massive lagoon at Kwajalein, one of the largest in the world, holds dozens of Japanese and American warships resting in relatively shallow water. August's reduced visibility, typically 10-15 meters/33-50 feet, might frustrate photographers. It creates an eerie, atmospheric experience where wrecks materialize suddenly from the blue gloom. The USS Prinz Eugen, a German heavy cruiser captured after the war, lies on her side at 30 meters (100 feet). Her massive propellers remain intact.

The Marshallese invented stick charts, navigational maps made from palm ribs and shells, to sail these very waters. In August, when the trades ease, local sailing clubs on Majuro offer lessons on traditional proa canoes. You'll feel the hemp lines rough against your palms. You'll hear the sail snap when you catch the wind just right. You'll taste salt spray as the outrigger lifts from the turquoise water. It's one of the few places on Earth where ancient navigation is still practiced daily.

The haunting nuclear test site is only accessible on day trips from Majuro when conditions allow, which happens more often in August than you'd think. You'll fly over waters that still glow an unnatural blue in places. You'll land on an island where concrete bunkers sprout from the jungle. You'll swim in a lagoon so clear you can see the USS Saratoga's flight deck 50 meters (165 feet) below. The silence here is absolute. Broken only by your own breathing through a snorkel.

The western end of Majuro Atoll, what locals call 'Laura,' remains mostly traditional Marshallese, with thatched meeting houses called bwi built over tidal flats. You might catch women weaving pandanus mats (the sound is a rhythmic rustle) or men building new outriggers. The smell of smoking tuna wafts from cookhouses. The pace feels decades removed from downtown Majuro's traffic.