In Palau, Taking the Bait to Swim With Jellyfish

Given the opportunity, who wouldn’t jump into a lake packed with millions of jellyfish — if, of course, you knew they could not sting you?

For me, it was a no brainer. I was visiting the Pacific archipelago nation of Palau, writing for The New York Times Magazine about the country’s marine conservation efforts. And during a day off between sea patrols with the Palauan marine police, I saw an opportunity to visit one of the country’s crown jewels: Jellyfish Lake, a roughly 12-acre body of saltwater on an uninhabited islet in Palau’s Rock Islands.

The experience was nothing short of surreal. Slipping into the fluorescent green, bath-warm water, I was quickly engulfed by an overwhelming number of ominous pulsating orange blobs, which ranged in size from bowling balls to Ping-Pong balls. My first sensation was pure dread. Instinctively I expected the golden jellyfish to sting me, even though I had been repeatedly reassured they would not. Still, I couldn’t suppress the doubts: What if some of them have evolved to have stingers? Do they get angry? Is one going to blob its way up my nose or into my ear?

As one jellyfish bumped into the back of my neck and several others squished against my face, low-level panic set in. I soon realized that I needed to completely relinquish all sense of personal space. And when I did, there came a slow-motion euphoria at the sheer beauty and weirdness of it all. The jellyfish looked like so many commuters, headed in different directions, not a one of them sitting still in the water. I felt as if I was in some trippy dream sequence in “SpongeBob SquarePants.”

Palau is an exotic place. The makers of the reality show “Survivor” filmed a season on Ulong, one of its islands. Bat is considered a delicacy in Palau. Called the “Serengeti of the Sea,” the country is a snorkeler’s dream. It has about 70 marine lakes, the highest concentration anywhere on the planet. The country’s Rock Islands are a Unesco World Heritage site. Most people who visit Palau come to dive on its reefs, which are home to more coral fish and other invertebrates per square mile than anywhere else.

Reaching Jellyfish Lake requires a 20-minute boat ride south from the capital of Koror to Eil Malk island, and a 10-minute trek up and down a steep, wooded path.

The aquatic habitat is considered one of the seven underwater wonders of the world. The lake’s roughly five million jellyfish start their days on the east side. Gradually, they migrate west with the sun. The algae living in their tissues is key to their survival, allowing them to make carbohydrates. Only snorkeling (not scuba diving) is allowed in the lake. This prevents visitors from diving too deep since about 50 feet under the surface is a layer of oxygen-poor water with lethal levels of hydrogen sulfide.

By midday, the lake was crowded with tourists, almost all of them Chinese. More than half of Palau’s gross domestic product comes from tourism. In the last few years, the country has become a favorite vacation getaway for Chinese tourists, whose numbers have begun to strain local capacity.

Palau has taken steps to try to protect the lake. Several years ago, the fee to visit Eil Malk and other outer islands was $35. It is now $100. Visitors are forbidden to wear sunscreen, which would pollute the lake.

A sign near the entrance to the path leading to the lake requests: “In order to preserve the lake and its environment for future generations to enjoy, please stay on the trail so as not to disturb the vegetation.”

In the end, though, the sign dares visitors: “Swim with millions of jellyfish as they swarm and pulsate around you.”