South TarawaTarawa

The people of Kiribati, the I-Kiribati, are Micronesian, and their ancestors reached the Gilbert Islands over two thousand years ago by sailing canoe. The islands they settled were low coral atolls with no rivers, thin soil and few land plants, so life depended on the coconut palm, the pandanus, breadfruit, a hardy swamp taro and, above all, fish from the reef and open sea. The people called their islands Tungaru. The name Kiribati is a local rendering of Gilbert, the name given by 19th-century European mariners.

Tarawa was one of several densely settled atolls, with villages and land held by families and clans. Social life centred on the maneaba, a big open meeting house where a clan or island gathered to decide, to feast and to settle disputes. The seating in a maneaba followed rules of descent and rank, and much of that pattern survives today, from village meetings to the national parliament, which is also called a maneaba.

Europeans arrived from the late 18th century: whalers, traders and missionaries. Christian missions took root in the 19th century and shaped the islands deeply, so that church is still central to weekly life and Sunday is quiet. In 1892 Britain declared a protectorate over the Gilbert Islands, and in 1916 it became part of the Gilbert and Ellice Islands Colony. The colonial headquarters moved around, and in time Tarawa became the administrative centre. Bairiki, where you can see the government offices today, grew out of that role.

The Ellice Islands separated in the mid-1970s to become Tuvalu, and the Gilbert Islands went on to independence as Kiribati on 12 July 1979, with Tarawa as its capital. Independence Day is the biggest public holiday and brings dancing, parades and long, slow celebrations. Since then South Tarawa has grown fast as people moved from outer islands for work, schools and hospitals, which is why it is so crowded compared with the rest of the country.

That crowding is the central fact of modern Tarawa. About half the people of Kiribati now live on South Tarawa, on a strip of land that has to supply housing, a port, an airport, offices, gardens and, above all, fresh water. Nothing here is spacious, and much of what visitors notice, from tight streets to shared yards, comes from that pressure.

In late 1941 Japan occupied the Gilbert Islands, and over the following two years it turned Betio, the western tip of Tarawa, into a fortress. Betio is small: about three kilometres long and less than a kilometre wide at its widest, with an airstrip along its length. Japanese engineers and labourers built concrete bunkers, pillboxes, trenches and coastal guns around it. The garrison, commanded by Rear Admiral Keiji Shibasaki, numbered several thousand, including Korean labourers, and the defences were built to stop a landing on the reef.

The United States chose Tarawa as a stepping stone across the central Pacific. On 20 November 1943 the 2nd Marine Division landed on the lagoon side of Betio, on beaches the planners named Red 1, 2 and 3. The plan assumed that the tide would be high enough for landing craft to cross the reef. It was not. Many boats grounded on the reef edge, hundreds of metres from shore, and the Marines waded in under machine-gun and mortar fire. Amphibious tractors that could cross the reef carried others in, and a battered pier gave some cover.

The fighting lasted about three days. The first day was close to a failure: Marines held only a thin strip of beach behind the sea wall, with heavy losses. Reinforcements, naval gunfire and air support, and the courage of small units pushing bunker by bunker, turned it. By 23 November Betio was in American hands. About a thousand American Marines and sailors were killed, and a few thousand more were wounded. Almost the entire Japanese and Korean garrison died; only a handful of prisoners survived. The total dead is often given as around six thousand, on an islet you can walk across in an hour.

The battle taught the US forces hard lessons about reefs, tides, intelligence and fire support before later landings, and Tarawa became a name in the story of the war in the Pacific. For Kiribati it was different: the fighting was on the home of the people who live here, and the islanders were caught between two armies. Today the relics are not staged as a museum. They sit among houses, gardens and boats, and some are on family land. Recovery teams have searched for and identified remains in recent years, so treat the ground as a grave as well as a sight.

A visit works best in the morning with a local guide arranged through your guesthouse. Start at the main relics, look at the command bunker and the surviving coastal guns, and see the landing beaches at low tide, when the reef shows how shallow the approach was. Ask before you enter anything, take nothing, and leave by 10:30.

An atoll is a ring of coral islets around a lagoon, and Tarawa is a large one. The lagoon covers hundreds of square kilometres, but the land is small: South Tarawa has only about 15 or 16 square kilometres of dry ground, and most of it lies just a few metres above the sea. From the main road you can often see both the ocean and the lagoon at once.

Everything here follows from that geography. There are no rivers or lakes and little soil, so fresh water comes from rain and from a thin lens of fresh water that floats on the salt water under the islets. The lens is fragile. Pump too fast, or let seawater in during a storm, and it turns brackish. The main water reserves are in the east near Bonriki, and pipes carry water along the road, but supply is rationed and many households rely on rainwater tanks and wells. That is why visitors are told to drink bottled or boiled water and to treat every shower as a small luxury.

The sea shapes daily life in other ways. High tides at certain times of year, called king tides, push water over low roads and into yards. Sea walls of coral rock, concrete and old tyres line parts of the coast, and you can see where they have been rebuilt. Kiribati is often cited as one of the countries most exposed to rising seas, and people here talk about it plainly, as a fact of planning rather than a distant threat. Visitors can help by being careful with water and electricity and by asking, not assuming, when a shower or a tap does not work.

The lagoon is also a working place. Fishermen go out in small boats, families gather shellfish at low tide, and children swim and play in the shallows. It is not a resort. Currents through the reef passages can be fast, the water near settlements can be polluted, and tides change quickly. The safe rule is to swim only where locals do and to take local advice on the tide.

Heat and light are part of the geography too. Tarawa sits almost on the equator, so the day and the temperature barely change through the year. The sun is high and hard, and there is little natural shade beyond coconut palms and the occasional tree. Do your outdoor sights early and late, rest in the middle of the day and wear a hat.

Life on Tarawa is organised around family, church and the maneaba. A maneaba is a large, open-sided hall with a steep roof and low eaves, used for meetings, feasts and welcomes. The low eaves are not only a matter of building: they make people sit, and sitting low is a form of respect. In a traditional maneaba, seats belong to families and clans, and a visitor should sit where the host says.

The manners are simple and worth learning. Greet people with "mauri", the all-purpose hello. Say "ko rabwa" for thank you and "ko bati n rabwa" for thank you very much. Do not stand over people who are sitting, do not point your feet at others, and take off your shoes at the edge of the maneaba. Keep shoulders and knees covered away from the beach; swimwear belongs at the water. Ask before you take photographs of people, homes, church services or government buildings, and never photograph the runway or aircraft.

Christianity is central. Most people belong to a church, services are long and full of singing, and Sunday is quiet. Shops close, few taxis run and families gather. Visitors who want to hear the singing can ask their host if they may attend a service, dressed modestly. Public affection is low-key and attitudes on many social questions are conservative, so keep to the discretion you would in any small, traditional community.

Hospitality is real but has its rules. If a family offers food or a place to sit, accept a little and thank them. Offer a small donation or gift if you are invited into a maneaba or on a village visit, and ask your host what is appropriate rather than guessing. Money is not the point, but it is welcome, because cash is scarce and most families support a wide network of relatives.

The national motto, in Gilbertese, is a good short summary of what people here value: health, peace and prosperity. Visitors who move slowly, ask questions and accept that flights, boats and shops all run on their own time tend to get the most from a stay. The people you meet are used to being asked to explain their islands to strangers, and most enjoy doing it.

The traditional diet of Kiribati is fish, coconut, breadfruit, pandanus and swamp taro, with pigs and chickens for feasts. Nothing else grows well on coral. Fish is the heart of it: tuna and other open-sea fish, reef fish, flying fish, crabs and shellfish. Fish is eaten grilled, boiled, dried, or lightly cured with coconut and lime, and a day begins early at the fish market on Betio, where the morning catch is sold before the heat.

Coconut is the tree of life. The green nut gives a clean, cold drink for a dollar or two. The flesh is eaten fresh or cooked. The sap of the flower stalk is tapped to make toddy, which is drunk fresh and can be boiled into a dark syrup. The leaves are woven into mats, baskets and fans, and the trunk and husk are building material. A cold coconut on the shore is still the most useful thing to buy in the middle of the day.

Breadfruit, when in season, is baked or boiled and eaten like a starchy vegetable. Pandanus fruit is eaten fresh or made into a sweet, dried preserve for voyages. Giant swamp taro is grown in pits dug down to the fresh-water lens and takes years to mature, so it is a food for feasts rather than everyday meals.

Modern food has changed the table. Imported white rice, flour, canned fish and noodles are cheap and filling, and the shops depend on ships and flights. That means stock can run low when a ship is late, and it also means that many people worry about the health effects of imported food. As a visitor you will mostly eat rice with fish, chicken or a little cabbage, with breadfruit or a coconut on the side.

Practical eating is simple. The safest meal is a hot, freshly cooked plate at a roadside eatery or a guesthouse set meal, ordered in the morning so the kitchen buys enough. Carry small Australian notes, drink sealed bottled water, and skip ice unless your host confirms it is safe. Alcohol is available in some places but sales are limited, and local rules and church influence keep the nightlife quiet. If a family invites you to eat, accept a little and say thank you.

South Tarawa is essentially one road. It runs from Betio in the west, past Bairiki and Bikenibeu, to the airport at Bonriki in the east, about 35 km in all. Causeways, built with foreign aid, join the islets that were once separated by the tide. There is no rail, no ride-hailing and no reliable late transport, and the trip is easier if you accept that up front.

In daylight, minibuses run up and down the road for a small fare, roughly a dollar or two. They are cheap, frequent and crowded, and they thin out early in the evening. Taxis have no meters, so agree the fare and the return before you get in. The most practical option for a visitor is a car with a driver arranged through your guesthouse, for a half day or a day. That is how most people reach Betio, the east end and the airport, and it is the safest way to move after dark, when stretches of the road are unlit and dogs roam.

The airport at Bonriki is the country's gateway. International flights are few, with connections through Fiji and other Pacific hubs, and small domestic flights serve the outer islands. Schedules change, and a delayed flight can knock a whole week out of a plan. Ask your guesthouse for a pickup, share your flight number, and re-confirm the day before. If your flight leaves late, ask the guesthouse to hold your bags and to let you shower.

Plan a day in three parts. Do outdoor sights in the cool morning, from about 07:00 to 10:30. Rest in shade or an air-conditioned room through the middle of the day. Go out again from about 16:30 for a shore walk and an early dinner, and book the car home before you leave. Carry small Australian notes, drink bottled water and keep a small reserve of cash, because machines can run empty.

A three-day stay covers the essentials: a morning at Betio with a guide, a slow day in Bairiki with the lagoon shore and a maneaba visit if a host can arrange it, and an evening in Bikenibeu. Add a day for North Tarawa by boat if the weather and your flights allow. The trip rewards patience more than ambition.