Diving into Paradise: Exploring Luganville's Hidden Beaches and WWII Wrecks

If I were to conduct a valuation of Luganville as a destination, its historical significance would feature prominently in the intangible assets column. The area served as a massive Allied base during WWII, with over 500,000 troops stationed here at its peak—a staggering figure for a place that now exudes such tranquility.

Walking through Luganville's main street today, you'd hardly guess its military past, save for the occasional quonset hut repurposed as a local business. The town operates at the unhurried pace typical of island life, but beneath this calm exterior lies a fascinating wartime legacy that shaped both its infrastructure and identity.

As a CFO accustomed to looking beyond surface metrics, I found myself particularly drawn to how Luganville has leveraged this historical capital. Rather than allowing these artifacts to depreciate into obscurity, the community has transformed them into sustainable tourism assets.

What struck me most was the duality: by day, couples can explore pristine beaches that rival any in the South Pacific; by evening, they can discuss the profound historical narratives they've encountered at local establishments like the Natangora Café, where the walls are adorned with wartime photographs and artifacts donated by locals and visitors alike.

Any analysis of Luganville's attractions must prominently feature the SS President Coolidge—arguably one of the most accessible luxury liner wrecks in the world, and certainly the crown jewel in Luganville's underwater portfolio.

Formerly a luxury passenger vessel hastily converted to a troop transport during WWII, the Coolidge struck a friendly mine and sank just offshore in 1942. What could have been a catastrophic loss (though thankfully, nearly all troops were evacuated) has transformed into a world-class diving destination lying just 20 meters from shore.

As someone who took up diving relatively late in life—a mid-career pivot much like my professional one—I approached the Coolidge with both excitement and trepidation. My partner and I booked with Allan Power Diving, whose guides have been navigating this underwater museum for decades. Their expertise proved invaluable as we explored the ship's massive frame, now draped in soft corals and serving as habitat for a dazzling array of marine life.

Before our dive, I invested in a underwater camera which proved to be one of the wisest purchasing decisions I've made. The camera's underwater modes captured the eerie beauty of the ship's promenade deck, the medical supply room still stocked with visible bottles, and the famous 'Lady'—a porcelain relief that has become the symbolic heart of the wreck.

What makes the Coolidge particularly suitable for couples is the range of diving experiences available. While advanced divers can explore deeper sections, there are shallower areas accessible to those with basic certification. My partner, who had only completed her Open Water certification the previous month, was able to enjoy significant portions of the wreck alongside me.

As someone who's spent a career scrutinizing balance sheets and depreciation schedules, Million Dollar Point presented a case study in military logistics that left me both fascinated and perplexed. Following WWII, the departing American forces faced a dilemma: what to do with millions of dollars worth of equipment that was too costly to ship home?

The solution was as pragmatic as it was wasteful—drive it all into the sea. Bulldozers, jeeps, forklifts, and countless supplies were deliberately dumped offshore, creating what locals now call Million Dollar Point.

Snorkeling here with my full-face snorkel mask provided an unobstructed view of this underwater museum of military excess. The mask's panoramic design eliminated the need to constantly adjust equipment, allowing me to fully immerse in the surreal landscape below. Trucks and construction equipment sit in various states of decay, some still recognizable despite decades underwater, others transformed into artificial reefs teeming with marine life.

The experience prompted conversations between my partner and me about value, waste, and the strange economic calculations of wartime. We spent an afternoon at nearby Champagne Beach processing what we'd seen, discussing how the military's sunk cost had transformed into an environmental and tourism asset over time.

For couples with different comfort levels in water, Million Dollar Point offers flexibility. While I explored deeper sections with scuba gear, my partner enjoyed excellent views from the surface with her snorkel. The gradual slope from shore means you can wade in and immediately encounter historical artifacts without venturing into deep water.

If Luganville's war relics constitute its historical portfolio, then its beaches represent its natural capital—and they pay dividends in relaxation and beauty. While the region boasts numerous stunning coastal stretches, Champagne Beach and Lonnoc Beach stand out as premium investments of your time.

Champagne Beach, about an hour's drive from Luganville town, derives its name from the phenomenon that occurs at low tide when tiny bubbles rise through the sand, creating a champagne-like effervescence. The science behind it relates to underground freshwater springs, but the effect is purely magical. The powdery white sand forms a perfect crescent against turquoise waters so clear they seem digitally enhanced.

Packing our beach shelter proved invaluable for long days at Champagne Beach. Unlike the permanent structures of resort beaches, Champagne offers minimal shade, and this portable shelter provided essential respite from the midday sun. It became our private cabana for beach picnics and afternoon reading sessions.

Lonnoc Beach, just beyond Champagne, offers a slightly different experience. Less visited by day-trippers, it provides a more intimate setting with a small beach bar serving cold Tusker beers and simple Ni-Vanuatu cuisine. The snorkeling directly off Lonnoc rivals many dedicated snorkel sites I've visited across the Pacific, with healthy coral gardens beginning just meters from shore.

What makes these beaches particularly suitable for couples is their scale—large enough to find private spaces yet small enough to feel intimate. Unlike the cricket pitches of my adopted Australian home, which demand constant attention to the action, these beaches invite contemplation and connection.

On our third day, we witnessed a traditional Vanuatu beach wedding at Champagne Beach—a reminder that we weren't the only ones who recognized the romantic potential of these shores. The ceremony, blending Christian elements with kastom (traditional) practices, provided unexpected cultural insight and had my partner dropping subtle hints for the remainder of our trip.

Beyond beaches and wrecks, Luganville offers rich cultural experiences that provide context for both its present and past. As someone fascinated by the intersection of tradition and modernity, I found the cultural aspects of our trip particularly rewarding.

A visit to a nearby kastom village arranged through our accommodation offered insights into traditional Vanuatu life. What impressed me most was not the performances aimed at tourists, but the authentic glimpses of how traditional practices continue to inform contemporary island life. Our guide, Joseph, explained how the village operates on a dual governance system—respecting both elected officials and traditional chiefs, each with distinct but complementary authorities.

The textile traditions particularly caught my attention. Having developed an eye for craftsmanship through my fashion interests, I was drawn to the intricate pandanus mats and baskets woven by village women. These pieces represent both functional items and symbols of wealth in traditional ceremonies. I purchased several directly from their makers, appreciating how the transaction supported local artisans while providing me with authentic souvenirs.

For couples seeking meaningful experiences beyond relaxation, I recommend the Saturday market in Luganville town. Here, producers from surrounding islands bring their specialties—from vanilla beans to handcrafted jewelry. We spent a fascinating morning sampling local foods and practicing our rudimentary Bislama (the local pidgin language) with vendors who appreciated our attempts, however clumsy.

One evening, we attended a traditional water music performance, where women standing waist-deep in water create complex rhythms by slapping and cupping the surface. The hypnotic sounds, coupled with the sunset backdrop, created one of those travel moments that remain imprinted in memory long after return tickets have been used.

For our final night, we splurged on dinner at Deco Stop Lodge, where the binoculars I'd packed allowed us to spot distant islands while enjoying fresh-caught fish and local produce. These compact yet powerful binoculars have become essential in my travel kit, particularly in destinations with expansive views.