I’m not a huge fan of Survivor. But as I prepare to jump into the swarm of jiggling jellyfish, I wish I were. A few tips from their Palau escapades might come in handy right now.

“Just take that leap of faith,” Loreen Sugiyama says with a cheeky grin. It’s easy for her to say. She’s not wearing the snorkel. But there are a couple of things I know about my Palauan guide: she’s true to her word and she’s all about the adventure!

Loreen does, after all, work for Fish ‘n Fins, a tour company that offers some of the best ways to check out Palau’s treasures. As well as land excursions that loop over the hilly terrain, their aquatic lineup caters to any water-baby - from veteran divers to us senior snorkellers. Either way, it’s like dipping into an aquarium - rain or shine! 

“No worries,” Loreen reassures, when we head out earlier under a dome of cloud. “It never rains for long in Palau.” I give her a questioning glance when monster-size droplets spill from the swollen skies. But instead of seeking refuge beneath the cruiser’s sheltering pop-top, I remain riveted to the open bow - spellbound by Mother Nature’s tropical wash and surrounding beauty.

Whatever the weather, Palau’s famous Rock Islands seem to have that alluring effect. The 500 or so jungle-draped landforms in the western corner of Micronesia vary in size and appearance - from smaller atolls and mushroom-shaped mounds to larger undulating masses that sprawl out like sleeping serpents. Over their 40 million years of existence, pounding wave action and burrowing mollusks have eroded their undersides, giving each a cute bowl-style haircut. And contrasting with their verdant topcoats is an embracing patchwork of blue: from the palest celadon over the coral reefs to the richest sapphire where the deep drops beneath.

Our flat-bottom boat glides over the pristine surface like a well-waxed surfboard, and while slicing effortlessly through protected glassy lagoons and riding the crests of white water waves, the lush rounded landscapes roll on by.

Birds constantly flit in and out of my viewfinder. Although too many to track and too fast to photograph, Loreen rattles the names off like they’re her best friends: bat-winged petrels, red-tailed tropics, plunge-diving kingfishers. “Palau is home to 149 species, 12 of which are endemic,” she proudly affirms. Considering the whirlwind of activity and cacophony of sing song, I’m sure half of them are hanging out right here.

We also discover that our guide has a wealth of knowledge about Palau’s marine life. Thirty minutes after leaving the main hub of Koror, we glide into a tranquil bay, just north of Mecherchar Island, where a colourful coral garden is home to giant Tridacnas clams.

“Some of these beauties are 100 years old,” she claims, “and weigh as much as 250 pounds.” My heart quickens, when thinking about the yawning creatures that thrive beneath. But after checking them out, it’s easy to see that they’re totally satiated by their in-house bounty. Spiky Staghorn and nodular Porites coral cling to the ocean’s sandy floor and provide essential nutrients for a vibrant array of tropical fish. And integrated with this marine maze are these massive jaw-gaping clams - all vying for sunlight in an attempt to synthesize solar energy through their black-eyed pores. 

Although the dazzling display has superseded my visual expectations, after coming up for air, Loreen assures, there’s more to come. "You'll be blown away by the Cemetery," she jests, as we troll into the next snorkelling site. Layers of more fragile organisms enshroud slabs of concrete that were dropped here many years ago. And after planting my facemask water-side down, I discover this ocean graveyard is anything but lifeless. Ironically, it's drop-dead gorgeous. Schools of striped tiger and pretty parrotfish give me the eye as they breeze on by. Goat, lion and cowfish soon follow. And feeding this frenzied safari are flourishing sponges, billowing sea grasses and more of that eco-rich coral: Flat tabletop, convoluted brain, tentacle torch - some look like mushrooms, others like clumps of cauliflower. Though I’m certainly not tempted to dig in, the riot of sea life sure is.

Our lunch comes just a little later. After a quick skim over the turquoise surface, we reach an island that could dub as Eden. Swaying palms line the sugar-fine shore and thatched-roof shelters offer reprieve from tropical storms. Although Palau’s average temperature is a balmy 27 degrees C (82 degrees F) year-round, when it rains, it pours. Over this past week, Mother Nature’s faucet has turned on and off more than the one in my kitchen sink. But as quickly as it starts, it stops. Living up to her promise, Loreen’s weather prediction has panned out and while soaking up the rays on this Gilligan Island look-alike, we dine on delicious Bentos: teriyaki chicken, sweet sticky rice and tiny tasty bananas.

Palau’s cuisine is a reflection of its history - a combo of homegrown, Japanese and all-American rolled into one; past dictators rotated through this country more frequently than London’s changing of the guard. Spain, Germany, Japan and the United States all enjoyed a piece of the Palau pie. And though this tiny nation of 20,000 finally gained independence in 1994, it still embraces the past, including sunken Japanese “Zero’ fighter planes and tales of Peleliu’s bloody battle that attract the war buffs. Traditional birthing and funeral ceremonies continue to lure cultural gurus and carbon dating of artifacts that go back as far as 1,000 BC are a hit with the historians.

But right now, I’m fixated on the present. It’s been a day of visual overload and this final plunge is likely going to put me into overdrive. Jellyfish Lake, a tranquil interior gem that was formed by the rising seas more than 12,000 years ago has been named in honour of its inhabitants. Millions of these swimmers that have a symbiotic relationship with the sun and algae flap their way through the crystal clear water like wavering golden bells. And because they’re not threatened by any predators, and have lost their sting, they aren’t a threat to us. Although this adventure is on my must-do list, as I peer over the dock at the thriving swarm, I wish I were back at our Palasia Hotel. The courtyard pool, topped off with an hour-long massage, would suit me fine.

“Fear not,” Loreen encourages, as if reading my mind. “It’s an experience you’ll never forget.” And after submerging into this bath-like ethereal lake and feeling totally connected with nature, I realize my tour guide is, once again, true to her word. Like the rest of this day in “Rainbow’s End,” it’s quite an adventure!

Where to stay:
Palasia Hotel Palau
Phone 680-488-8888
www.palasia-hotel.com

Things to do:
Fish ‘n Fins
Email info@fishnfins.com
www.fishnfins.com

For more information, contact Palau Visitor’s Authority: www.visit-palau.com

SEPTEMBER 2011 SENIOR LIVING MAGAZINE VANCOUVER ISLAND
SEPTEMBER 2011 SENIOR LIVING MAGAZINE VANCOUVER & LOWER MAINLAND