Staying Safe on Your Adventure in Nauru

07/07/2023

When travelling, it can be easy to let your guard drop as holiday mode sets in. Especially on a trip to a tropical island. The hot humid air, the salty scented breeze, and the laughing children playing barefoot in the boat harbour. Nauru, a tiny island escape located in the smattering of islands that makeup Micronesia. The island is no more than 21sqkm with a population of less than 15,000 people, and healthcare facilities to match. Trust me! I learned this the hard way!

On top of a Japanese bunker, Nauru. Photo credit: Crooked Compass

It’s not a place where a foreigner would want to find themselves injured, let alone adding additional strain on a very small medical system. Yet, sitting in the hospital emergency waiting room one sticky Sunday afternoon, that’s exactly where I found myself. To help set the scene, what makes Nauru so unique is that it was formed millions of years ago by a sea volcano that became extinct, eroded down, and was then used by sea birds as a nesting ground. The piles and piles (and there must have been piles!) of guano that accumulated, eventually hardened and turned to phosphate.

This made Nauru one of the wealthiest economies for a short time in the 20th century, but the resulting impact on the environment has literally scarred the country. Phosphate mining digs up the phosphate rich soil, leaving behind only calcium carbonate pinnacles to indicate where the ground once was. The entire island is covered in these pinnacles, indicating that no stone was left untouched in the pursuit of this natural treasure.

Pinnacles in the waters of Nauru. Photo Credit: Crooked Compass

Pinnacles are dangerous as it turns out. The stones are jagged and tear at your skin easily, even when just brushing up against them. The ground surrounding these towers is dusty with phosphate dust or covered in tree roots and vines as the rainforest fights for its’ land back. In summary, it’s a trip hazard. Everything on the ground wants to trip you over – but that’s not how I injured myself!

Even the sea has left its mark, with the magnesium-rich waters washing away the phosphate in the small band of reef that surrounds the island, leaving behind jagged pinnacles ranging in size from the height of a soft drink can, all the way up to the equivalent of a three-storey building. They look like solitary figures in the shallows at low tide. The roads are made from Nauruan rock, a readily accessible material here of course, but along with it comes a warning I should have paid attention to. Even the roads and footpaths here can be jagged in parts.

Here’s where our brave adventurer comes in (and her unwitting travel buddy). Climbing through the pinnacles and the rainforest in thongs (because the locals were), walking unsteadily but with common sense in wearing protective reef shoes as the tide rolls quickly in. Following the lead of the sure-footed locals, I abandoned my good walking shoes in favour of an “if they can do it, I can do it” mentality.

Wandering through Topside (in thongs). Photo credit: Crooked Compass

Rolling the dice with unprotected feet, no experience with these rock formations, or the non-existent walking tracks we were attempting to navigate. Even climbing up pinnacles to reach the highest points of the island for the best lookouts (I had hiking shoes on for that!) Or simply walking along a puddle-ridden remote road at the back of town in search of a track to a WWII artillery gun. Of course, it was the anti-climactic last option where my luck ran out. Ducking to avoid a branch, I slipped and fell, scraping my foot on the gutter. Not a scrape though, it turns out there was a sharp spot of that hardy Nauruan rock right where my unlucky foot left the gutter. Lots of blood and mud and my little toe was not looking very nice.

As we sat by the side of the road attempting to get a better look at the damage, a Nauruan guardian angel stopped on her way home and offered to help get us to hospital. The hospital is closed on a Sunday and only the Emergency room is open. In a turnaround that would impress any Sydney hospital attendee, 45 minutes later I was bandaged up and sent on my way, with a handful of Panadol. The only payment required? A chunk of toe and a fair amount of swearing. As keen as I am to immerse myself in a destination, a trip to the Nauruan emergency room was not on my must have experiences list. Locals won’t judge you on your footwear. They will judge you for winding up in hospital after slipping over on a dirt road and almost losing a toe. In Nauru, enclosed sturdy shoes are a must!