Feature Destination

Confronting The Cold Coast

Yorkshire-based photographer Chris Kendall has been surfing on the east coast of England since he was 12 years old. But with murky water, unreliable waves and freezing temperatures, the Cold Coast is no surfer’s paradise. Here’s why for Chris the torrid conditions are as much about endurance as enjoyment.

Surfing. To many, the word conjures up a vision of young guys and girls with bleached blonde hair and tanned bronze skin. They’re gliding across clear turquoise waters, over tropical coral reefs, towards idyllic palm tree-lined beaches. A blazing sun beats down as fresh fruit and ice-cold beer provide much-needed refreshment.

This may be surfing as you know it. But not me.

I was born and bred in Yorkshire. And Yorkshire folk are famous for many things. One is being fiercely proud of the patch of dirt we just happen to be born on. Another, is being stubborn. Combine those traits with a wetsuit and surfboard, and a Yorkshireman or woman sees no need to head for the surfing Meccas of Hawaii, Indonesia or Australia. Why yearn for the Gold Coast when we have the Cold Coast?

So let’s return to that vision of surfing. Switch those sandy beaches for a muddy eroding cliffside. Tear up those palm trees and pepper the coastline with decrepit World War Two bunkers. Swap those coral reefs for long slimy seaweed. And now that there’s nothing pretty at the bottom of the sea, what’s the point in being able to see through the water at all? Let’s trade that turquoise hue for a murky shade of brown that looks as unenticing as the salad bar at a fast food buffet. Oh, and if you want a tan, you may as well book some time on a sunbed. For the sun makes few appearances here, and refreshments come in the form of a greasy bacon butty and a warm cuppa. Yorkshire Tea, of course.

I’ve been surfing on England’s east coast since I was 12 years old. No two sessions are the same, so let me talk you through one I remember from about ten years ago. It’s the middle of winter, 13 degrees below zero, and I’m half naked in a public car park. The question “why do I do this?” reverberates around my head like a mantra, until it eventually slips out past of my shivering lips. I’m not sure why I wasted the energy verbalising it. I didn’t expect an answer – those with me were probably too busy internally questioning their own sanity too. But, I’m here by choice. In fact, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing.

Two minutes later, I’m wearing my thick winter wetsuit complete with boots, gloves and hood, leaving only my face exposed to the elements. My movement is significantly restricted, but it’s worth it, because I’m finally warming up.

I run down the cliff path towards the sea’s edge, careful to avoid the patches of ice. As I start wading out into the sea, I become overtly aware of the exposed skin on my face. It’s only a matter of time before the ice-cold water hits it. Having been here enough times before, I know it’s best to just dive in. So I go head first under the next wave that approaches.

My breath is instantly exchanged for an ice cream headache (or as it’s scientifically known, sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia). I shake my head to clear the water from my eyes, which seems to serve a secondary purpose shifting the brain freeze. The process is repeated, safe in the knowledge that with every submersion my body will reluctantly accept the conditions I’m going to put it through for the next few hours.

Although the air temperature of this session was on the extreme side, the rest of it was pretty typical. Even the warmer sessions in the winter months come with their share of adverse conditions. Although you don’t think about England as being thatcold, the average January sea temperature on the east coast is only a few degrees higher than that in Iceland, owing to the fact that the North Sea is tucked away on the forgotten side of the country, forfeiting the benefits gained from the Gulf Stream. It creates conditions more akin to Reykjavík, than Cornwall.

Maybe it’s the temperature – as opposed to the general disparity between the stereotype and the reality – which explains why, despite surfing being introduced to the United Kingdom in the 1890s (on the east of coast of England, of all places), it has taken so long to catch on. I mean the UK isan island; one where the furthest place you can live from the coast is only70 miles – making it accessible to anyone with transport. In theory.

In reality, surfing in the UK – and certainly the east coast – is still pretty niche. And it’s nothing to do with the standard of waves that it has to offer. They, and I say this with no tongue in cheek, are world class. I mean it; we have some (literally) back-breakingly powerful waves, we just need the right conditions to align before we can exploit them.

But waiting for those conditions? Well, that takes a hell of a lot of patience, and no shortage of good old Yorkshire obstinance too. For what makes the opportunities so hard to come by is the fact that you’re not just after waves. Winds need to align with tides; which need to align to daylight hours; which need to align with your availability. And Yorkshire’s place on the map doesn’t exactly predispose itself to any of these things. With a narrow window for well-travelled swell, a large tidal range and limited daylight hours in the winter months, when the surf is at its best, you’re up against it. About the only thing in our favour, is a prevailing wind direction which is off-shore.

It means flat spells lasting months are not uncommon. During which, the east coast surfing population tends to go a little stir crazy; religiously refreshing forecasts only to find that – surprise, surprise – they still say the same as they did the last time you checked, five minutes earlier.

When the waves do finally arrive, it can mean that hundreds of swell-starved surfers flock to the coast. This can bring with it a storm of its own, one caused by human emotion. It’s not as if there aren’t enough waves to go around – there are – but you need to understand that not all waves were made equal and everyone wants to be on the best ones. So, after months of waiting, the fact that certain spots are better than others, and certain waves at those spots will also be better than others, creates an artificial scarcity. And with it, an edgy dynamic unique to the surfing scene.

It’s mainly a community built of small groups of close friends. Attitudes to people outside of these cliques can vary, and whilst the majority of the people you come across are perfectly reasonable humans, as with anything, the culture is flavoured by the minorities at the extremes. Although my direct experiences have never been anything worse than petty comments, you do hear stories of fisticuffs and vandalism.

I’ve personally been on the wrong end of comments about my board being from the “Early Learning Centre” (arising from a longstanding rivalry between bodyboarders and ‘stand-ups’ – akin to that between drivers and cyclists, where no one knows whyit exists, it just does). But somewhat less witty was the time a friend of mine got told to “fuck off” as a surf spot was deemed for “locals only”, despite it being literally walking distance from his home. How local do you have to be?!

Thankfully, we escape the worst attitudes on the Cold Coast, owing to the adverse conditions keeping headcount in the water low and forming a camaraderie between those who have braved the conditions.

But just because it’s not overcrowded here doesn’t mean you don’t follow the Fight Club-style unwritten rules of the line-up. These apply across the world:

You do not name secret spots;
You do not name secret spots;
Don’t drop in;
Don’t snake; and
Have respect.

Clearly, the need for unwritten rules is evidence of surfing’s growing popularity here. Sure, some of that could be down to the improvement in wetsuit technology, making the harsh conditions more manageable. But the increase in numbers, even when conditions are at their worst, is enough to know there’s something more to it. Something which makes all the difficulties of surfing here endurable.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, to endure means to “suffer (something painful or difficult) patiently.” The Buddhists, meanwhile, believe that “life is suffering”, a controversial belief that has nonetheless been adopted by many non-Buddhists. Even Sigmund Freud, the famed founder of psychoanalysis, talked of aiming toturn “hystericalmisery into common unhappiness”.

In those terms, surfing—particularly here in northern England—forms a great metaphor for life. If “life is suffering”, then it must be seasoned with pockets of joy which make it worth enduring. Well, and this may come as a surprise to you, but when you go surfing you don’t actually do thatmuch surfing. The vast majority of a session is spent paddling and waiting, but the comparatively small bursts of riding the crest of a wave releases a sufficient cocktail of hormones and neurochemicals to make all the difficulties I’ve mentioned not only reasonable, but insignificant.

Even as a grumpy teenager first finding my way with the waves, the discomfort and difficulties were never something I saw as an obstacle to overcome; more of a price that had to be paid, and one I was always willing to pay.

Now I’m older, I understand how these experiences shaped me. These difficulties are part of what makes surfing so fulfilling.

Modern day philosopher and professor of Bro-Science, Joe Rogan, frequently talks of how he proudly inflicts difficulty upon himself, in the belief that it improves his mental wellbeing. Carl Jung, speaking with a littlemore authority, said “humanity needs difficulties: they are necessary for health”.

I strongly believe that you should choose your difficulties, if you are fortunate enough to do so, or they will choose you. That is, the trivialities of life will become difficult, as your mind desperately seeks out some struggle.

I think this is why surfing becomes more than just a hobby to so many who get into it. It becomes an obsession; a lifestyle; almost a basic human need. Not only is there a huge amount of pleasure from being ‘as one’ with the ocean, but in every session you’re tested as mentally as you are physically.

These self-inflicted challenges could well be satiating a primitive human desire for difficulty, as described by Jung. A remnant of when times were actually hard, and an itch which nowadays many don’t scratch, because let’s face it, it’s easier, and totally possible, not to.

Why go through months of waiting, then hours of paddling, for only minutes of surfing? Why leave the warmth and comfort of your home for the brain-juddering and limb-numbing bitter cold of the North Sea?

If you think I’ve answered that question in the words above, then come and join me on the Cold Coast one freezing winter’s day. Whereabouts exactly? Well, that would be telling…

This story was originally published on Discover Interesting. To read more stories, click here.

Feature Destination

Feature Destination: A Conservationist’s Reflection on Family, Biodiversity, and Restoration in Costa Rica

Costa Rica is one of the few countries I’ve returned to repeatedly over the last twenty or so years. Each visit has reinforced why this small Central American nation continues to hold a special place in my heart. As a conservationist, I’ve long admired its bold environmental policies, its ability to restore vast areas of degraded land, and the extraordinary biodiversity that thrives here. But what draws me back just as strongly is the feeling that Costa Rica gives you: the quiet assurance that another world is possible, one where people and nature can coexist with purpose and respect.

I had the chance to experience Costa Rica in a new way, traveling with three generations of my family. My husband, my sister and her family, and our aging parents all came together for what we knew would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip. My sister chose Costa Rica not only because of its beauty, but also because it felt manageable for a multigenerational vacation. It’s safe, accessible, and well set up for travelers of all ages. We also understood it would be expensive, but for the chance to travel together as a full family, the investment was worth it.

coconut tree on beach shore during daytime

We started our journey in San José, where my husband and I stayed in a homestay with a Costa Rican grandmother. She greeted us with warmth, fed us incredible meals, and gave us our first taste, quite literally, of the hospitality this country is known for. From there, we headed to Quepos on the Pacific coast, where my sister had rented an Airbnb home. It was the perfect setup with a space for all of us to gather, cook, relax, and look out over a small deck that faced what appeared to be pure jungle. The view was mesmerizing. We later learned that only a few decades ago, the entire landscape had been logged and used for farmland or extraction. But thanks to Costa Rica’s climate and commitment to restoration, nature had returned with full force. You’d never know it had once been stripped bare.

Every morning, we gathered on that deck before sunrise with coffee in hand to watch the forest awaken. Birds darted through the trees: tanagers, flycatchers, motmots, flickering colors between the leaves. For a family of nature lovers, those quiet hours became some of the most meaningful and memorable moments of the entire trip.

Quepos gave us easy access to both the coast and the rainforest. We hiked in the nearby parks, explored waterfalls, we stumbled on eco-tours of chocolate-making, coffee farming, and sustainable agriculture. The excursions were varied and accessible. Canopy walks, guided nature trails, and small boat rides. Costa Rica’s dynamic geography from the mountains, coasts, volcanoes, and rainforests means you don’t have to travel far to experience completely different ecosystems.

Although my husband and I skipped diving this time to stay together as a family, we did take a longer boat ride to a more remote patch of primary forest. I believe we were on the edge of the Osa Peninsula or near Corcovado National Park, which is known as one of the most biologically intense places on Earth. The experience reminded me again how rare it is to be able to witness truly untouched rainforest.

Every meal we ate was exceptional. With such a strong agricultural foundation, the food was consistently fresh, flavorful, and locally grown. Pineapple, avocado, coffee, papaya, rice, and beans, all vibrant and prepared with pride. Costa Rica’s commitment to sustainable agriculture shows in the taste of what ends up on your plate.

Beyond the beauty and comfort, what continues to impress me most is Costa Rica’s national commitment to conservation. Despite being only about 51,000 square kilometers in size, Costa Rica is home to more than 500,000 species, about 5% of the world’s biodiversity, thanks to its location at the intersection of North and South America. The diversity includes iconic species like the resplendent quetzal (Pharomachrus mocinno), Baird’s tapir (Tapirus bairdii), jaguars (Panthera onca), and endangered sea turtles like the green sea turtle (Chelonia mydas), which nests on the Caribbean coast in places like Tortuguero National Park.

gray wooden bridge in forest during daytime

Costa Rica has not only preserved what it has, it has reversed damage from generations of less sustainable development. In the 1980s, deforestation was rampant, with forest cover reduced to about 21%. But thanks to a range of government policies, including the 1997 launch of the Payment for Environmental Services (PES) program, forest cover has increased to over 50% as of the 2010s, and as of 2022 forests covered approximately 60.1% of the country’s land area, according to the World Bank. The PES program rewards landowners for keeping forests intact, recognizing the economic value of ecosystem services such as carbon capture, water filtration, and biodiversity protection. Much of this work is administered through MINAE (the Ministry of Environment and Energy), and its subsidiary agencies like SINAC, FONAFIFO, and CONAGEBIO.

gray and brown turtle on gray sand during daytime

The country has also turned its attention toward marine conservation, with over 30% of its territorial waters now designated as marine protected areas (MPAs). These include coral reefs, mangroves, and marine corridors vital for species like sharks, whales, and sea turtles. Organizations like the MarViva Foundation have been instrumental in managing these MPAs, particularly around the Eastern Tropical Pacific.

Folks from Costa Rica, also called Ticos, have the reputation of being affectionately warm, proud, and deeply connected to the land. You quickly learn the phrase “Pura Vida” is more than a slogan. It’s a mindset, an expression of gratitude, resilience, and appreciation for life’s simple gifts. It’s said as a greeting, a farewell, a thank-you, and always with a smile.

Traveling here, you’ll find that Costa Rica is not only logistically easy, but emotionally and intellectually enriching. Whether you’re a solo traveler, a couple, or a multigenerational family like us, there’s something for everyone. The country is incredibly welcoming to people of all backgrounds, and it’s one of the safest places in Central America to visit.

If you’re planning a trip, the best advice is to decide what kind of experience you’re looking for. Do you want to immerse yourself in the jungle? Lounge on the beach? Explore volcanoes? Stay in a city and do day trips? Or do a bit of everything? There’s no single way to “do” Costa Rica. You can rent a car or rely on shuttle services. Stay in a city hotel, a remote eco-lodge, or a beachside Airbnb. It’s all possible.

Here are a few key regions to consider:

Central Valley (San José and surroundings): Cultural sites, museums, and access to volcanoes and cloud forests.
Pacific Coast (including Quepos and Manuel Antonio): National parks, beaches, and adventure tourism.
Caribbean Coast (like Puerto Viejo and Tortuguero): Afro-Caribbean culture, nesting turtles, and rich biodiversity.
Northern Plains (Arenal and La Fortuna): Hot springs, waterfalls, and volcanoes.
Southern Zone (Osa Peninsula and Corcovado): Pristine rainforest, rare species, and incredible biodiversity.

VisitCostaRica.com is the official tourism website and a helpful starting point for researching regions, accommodations, and activities.

For us, this trip was a chance to reconnect, not just with each other, but with the natural world. Costa Rica has a way of doing that. When you’re surrounded by howler monkeys at dawn, or listening to rain fall onto leaves the size of couch cushions, or catching a glimpse of a toucan in flight, you remember what it feels like to be part of something ancient and alive.

And in a world where conservation so often feels like a losing battle, Costa Rica shows what can be achieved when a nation decides to prioritize nature, not just in words, but through action.

Feature Destination

Feature Destination: The Most Awe-Inspiring National Parks in Latin America

The national parks in Latin America are breathtaking, with diverse landscapes ranging from towering glaciers in Chile to lush tropical rainforests in Costa Rica and jaguar conservation areas in Belize. These areas of immense natural beauty enable you to immerse yourself into the rich biodiversity and culture this continent has to offer, where you’ll explore the unique ecosystems and learn about the traditions of the indigenous people.

Here is our list for the best national parks in Latin America.

Torres del Paine National Park, Chile

Located in the southern reaches of Chile, the Andes are at their most spectacular here, with jagged peaks rising from bright blue fjords and turquoise lakes (photo above)

A true Patagonia adventure awaits in Torres del Paine National Park. The hiking here is legendary, with routes varying from a few hours to a few days’ expedition across the 1,814 square kilometre wilderness. The landscapes are rewarding, with colossal glaciers, snow capped summits and roaring waterfalls juxtaposing the vast open plains.

Go kayaking on glacial lakes that sparkle or ride horses through forests and across pampas plains with the local gauchos, learning about their traditional ways of life in this unforgettable setting.

Los Glaciares National Park, Argentina

Los Glaciares National Park can be found at the heart of Argentine Patagonia. Spanning over 7,000 square kilometres, this UNESCO World Heritage Site is renowned for the sheer scale of its stunning glacial landscapes and rugged mountains.

The Perito Moreno Glacier dominates the landscape, where deep blues merge with ethereal whites, creating a symphony of hues that sparkle in the sunlight. Watch glacial calving from the boardwalk or boat as chunks of ice break off and thunder into the milky blue waters of Lake Argentino below. If you are feeling adventurous, you can even scale the ice field with crampons, appreciating the ice caves and pools along the way.

Admire with awe as you explore the landscape on foot, or even horseback, on the lookout for guanacos, Andean condors, foxes, and bird species. If you tackle the 22 km trek to Laguna de los Tres, you’ll be rewarded with breathtaking views of Mount Fitz Roy.

Tortuguero National Park, Costa Rica

Incredible biodiversity and tropical rainforests make up this natural park, situated on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica, which is best known for its entangled ecosystem of winding rivers, canals, lagoons, and beaches.

Navigate Tortuguero by boat or canoe using the extensive network of waterways, where you’ll pass through dense foliage, alive with movement and sound. Monkeys swing overhead, their playful chatter blending with the calls of exotic birds like toucans and parrots. Observe and immerse yourself into the rich tropical haven around you, where three-toed sloths hang lazily from branches and river otters frolic in the water alongside you.

During nesting season, in July and August, hundreds of green sea and hawksbill turtles come ashore to lay eggs in the sand. Watch this process in action and learn more about the conservation efforts being made to protect these magnificent creatures.

Cahuita National Park, Costa Rica

On the south side of the Caribbean, this beautiful and ecologically rich national park in Latin America can only be described as paradise.

Follow the well maintained hiking trails through the rainforest on the lookout for monkeys and sloths with scenic coastal views before reaching the soft white sands, fringed with coconut palms. Off-shore, the vibrant coral reefs are teeming with bright tropical fish, rays, nurse sharks, and various types of sea turtles. The warm, clear waters are perfect for experiencing these creatures in their natural habitats through diving or snorkelling.

The culture and traditions in this region are rich, rooted in medicinal plants. Learn more about the indigenous Bribri culture and traditions through a hands-on course in traditional cacao cultivation, following the process from picking the pod to sampling the delicious chocolate it creates.

Iberá National Park, Argentina

Explore the world’s second largest wetland in northeast Argentina, where the tranquil waterways and scenic trails offer a peaceful escape into nature.

Trek among the rich tapestry of lakes, marshes, plains, and forests which are home to capybaras, marsh deer, and howler monkeys, as well as jaguars, tapirs, and giant anteaters which have been gradually reintroduced as part of a rewilding program.

The rewilding of Iberá National Park is a pioneering conservation effort, aiming to restore the native ecosystem by reintroducing keystone species that had vanished from the region. These efforts not only revive biodiversity but also empower local communities through ecotourism and sustainable development.

Canoe or boat down the winding rivers and try spot the 360 different bird species hidden in the foliage of the park. Some of the wildlife is better spotted in the dark, so night game drives are also an option here.

Galapagos National Park, Ecuador

The world famous UNESCO World Heritage Site, located 1,000 kilometres off the coast of Ecuador, is home to many endemic species totally unique to the archipelago, including the Galapagos giant tortoise, marine iguana, and several species of Darwin’s finches.

Explore the volcanic islands, with rugged cliffs and lava fields, where the wild beaches stretch for miles. The clear, blue waters are alive with marine life. Encounter colourful tropical fish, sea turtles, marine iguanas, rays, and even hammerhead sharks while snorkelling or diving amongst the coral reefs and underwater caves.

Weave in between the archipelago’s islets onboard your own sailboat, where you can enjoy Relais & Chateaux dining and relaxing on the sundeck, while watching sea lions and fur seals play in the turquoise ocean around you. As the skies begin to darken, gaze upwards for incredible views of the planets and constellations.

Each of the national parks in Latin America tell powerful stories of conservation, culture, and connection. Whether witnessing glacial calving in Patagonia, tracing the paths of rewilded jaguars in Iberá, or learning from indigenous communities in Costa Rica, these are experiences that stay with you.

At Journeys With Purpose, we design transformational travel experiences that deepen your understanding of the world and contribute to its protection. Every journey supports local conservation and community initiatives — with opportunities to engage first-hand along the way. Get in touch to find out more.

Contribute to Positive Impact on a Hosted Journey. Connect with Impact Partners around the world during a Private Experience. Journeys With Purpose offers immersive conservation and ethical travel experiences. Through private and hosted trips with pioneering conservationists, guests experience rewilding and restoring biodiversity in the wildest corners of the world. Our “Seven Worlds, One Planet” approach is a global curriculum focused on recovering and conserving vibrant landscapes, biodiversity, wildlife and livelihoods across all seven continents.

Feature Destination

Feature Destination – Journeys With Purpose: Restoring Island-Ocean Ecosystems in Palau

Visiting Palau has been one of the most remarkable and affirming experiences of my life. Spending hours in the ocean observing turtles, sharks, rays and a host of other marine species, including cuttlefish changing colour and form to their immediate environment, has proven to be one of the greatest joys and wonders in the world.

I grew up watching and entranced by the TV series ‘The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau’. Such was the impression Cousteau’s series made on me, as a very young child my first pet was called ‘Calypso’, after his fabled research vessel. My experiences in Palau brought back these vivid memories directly. With a particular snorkelling experience on this journey, a fellow traveller commented that this must be “the day you fell in love with sharks” – and it truly was.

Throughout the course of the last 12+ months, Journeys With Purpose has worked alongside the world-class organisations of Island Conservation and Scripps Institution of Oceanography, in association with Re:wild, on a ‘Restoring Island-Ocean Ecosystems’ journey to champion and support the Island-Ocean Connection Challenge (IOCC).

The IOCC aims to restore at least 40 globally significant island-ocean ecosystems from ridge to reef by 2030 to benefit people, wildlife and our planet. This goal is delivering tangible action and successes, and signifying more widely the essential connection between island health and ocean health. Holistically restoring islands delivers outsized benefits for wildlife, oceans, people and climate impacts.

Key IOCC messages:

Healthy oceans need healthy islands
- island and marine ecosystem elements cycle into one another, sharing nutrients vital to the plants and animals within them. Invasive species damage these fragile ecosystems and work to remove these in order to restore balance and endemic species such as the Megapode bird is vital.
Everything is connected – Indigenous Peoples and local communities know this
- Indigenous Peoples and local communities have long understood and managed their natural resources in the context of island-to-sea connections. As Wayne Andrew, Micronesia Director of OneReef says “Community is not people alone. Community is a place, the reef. The respect of all that is so important”. This is rooted in their traditional knowledge and wisdom, including ancient oral stories such as the “Megapode Bird and Hawksbill Turtle”. It is essential to support local leadership and communities in the decisions they wish to make to protect these vital ecosystems.
Collaboration is essential
- taking a collective approach to sustainable science and the importance of collaboration with local communities to achieve more holistic results.
Emerging Science and Impact Monitoring
- global scalability of work informed by science. Emerging research shows people, wildlife and marine environments benefit when island-ocean connections are restored.
Islands are on the frontline of environmental crises
- a staggering 41% of critically threatened species are found on islands
- 27% of all languages come from island communities
- surrounding coral reefs are home to 25% of all marine life

LEARN MORE ABOUT THE IOCC

We travelled with leadership from Palau’s local communities, Island Conservation, Scripps Institution of Oceanography and supporters of these organisations. The collective experience of our time with these communities, and snorkelling and diving, was quite remarkable – a true spirit of togetherness and bonding developed that we will treasure for the rest of our lives. And importantly to take forward into action.

My key takeaways are thus:

People make Places
- this is never more true than in Palau. There are approximately 20,000 local inhabitants on Palau’s islands, and they demonstrate an incredible bond, cohesiveness and strength together. This is brilliantly encapsulated by the local Hatohobei community, who rejected sizeable bribes to thwart a significant illegal fishing operation – “… we’re doing it for our people, for the future generations.”
Impact at Scale
- the Palau National Marine Sanctuary (PNMS), effective 1 January 2020 with support from the Palauan government and several NGOs, is one of the largest marine protected areas (MPA) in the world. It was the first MPA of its kind, protecting 80% of a country’s national waters in a fully protected no-take zone.
- the PNMS protects a vast array of marine life and unique geological features within its over 475,000 km2, an area larger than Germany, Japan, Iraq, Sweden, etc. Eight hundred marine vertebrate species call the PNMS home, including nearly 30 different marine mammals and 60 shark and ray species, though these numbers are likely underestimated, as the biodiversity of the PNMS remains understudied.
- all achieved with the spirit of just 20,000 Palauans.
Be Brave
- as above, the Palauans have been incredibly brave in their approach with their communities, natural environment and ambition. Very sadly, this is not the norm around the world, but is, however, a lesson for us all – trust our hearts and do the right thing to help deliver today a viable future. We must turn the currency of hope into the currency of action.

I have observed these three takeaways in the great conservation and rewilding endeavours around the world. It can be done. I urge us all, in the strongest possible manner, to support the work of the people of Palau, Island Conservation and Scripps Institution of Oceanography – brilliant people, doing brilliant work, in brilliant places. My eternal gratitude to our partners and supporters on this journey, and in particular to the exceptional dedication, hospitality and warmth of our local Palauan partners at Island Conservation Palau, Ebiil Society, OneReef, Koror State DCLE (Department of Conservation and Law Enforcement), Ngarchelong State Rangers and many others. Palau, officially the Republic of Palau, is an island nation in the Micronesia region of Oceania in the western Pacific, comprising an archipelago of over 350 islands. Little known to many of us, it is one of the most remarkable ecosystems and communities on Earth. Please connect here – connect@journeyswithpurpose.org – to understand how you can contribute, and visit Palau.

GET IN TOUCH TO START YOUR JOURNEY

A tribute to the people of Palau:- in memoriam to Prince LeeBoo of Palau, 1763 to 1784.

With the consent of his father King Ibedul of Koror, Prince LeeBoo departed Palau with Captain Henry Wilson and the crew of the Antelope to London, England on 12 November 1783. Whilst in London, Prince LeeBoo became Palau’s de facto ambassador of goodwill to England, and a scholar. However, LeeBoo’s plan of returning to Palau to spread knowledge and scientific discoveries to his people ended abruptly when the young prince succumbed to smallpox in the winter of 1784. The remains of Prince LeeBoo and his plans lay buried today in the courtyard of St. Mary’s church in Rotherhithe, London, England.

Despite the dilapidation of time, the spirit of Prince LeeBoo continues to live in the hearts of the people of Palau – their immense strength of community, positive impact and fortitude. His story, and purpose in life, remains widely told amongst the people of Palau today.

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This article was retrived from Duncan’s Field Notes.

Journeys With Purpose offers immersive conservation and ethical travel experiences. Through private and hosted trips with pioneering conservationists, guests experience rewilding and restoring biodiversity in the wildest corners of the world. Our “Seven Worlds, One Planet” approach is a global curriculum focused on recovering and conserving vibrant landscapes, biodiversity, wildlife and livelihoods across all seven continents.