Exposed coral in Palau. Dead fish in Lamotrek. Waves over Ebeye’s dock. Across Micronesia, residents are watching the ocean for signs of what may come next.

In a video posted June 18 by Palau’s Coral Reef Research Foundation, the sea appears to have pulled back. Broad reef flats lie exposed beside blue channels. In closer views, tangled coral branches reach above the shallow water.

“Noticed how low the tides have been lately?” the video asks.

Elsewhere in Micronesia, people have been watching other unsettling scenes: dead fish floating in Lamotrek’s lagoon, waves washing over Ebeye’s dock, and another powerful typhoon approaching islands already battered earlier this year.

These events have different immediate causes. Together, however, they have sharpened a question that matters across the region: What is El Niño changing—and what should communities prepare for?

In its October 8 update, NOAA reported that El Niño continued to strengthen, with strong-to-very strong conditions likely through January–March 2027. Its effects will vary across the Pacific. Some islands may receive heavy rain while others grow dry. A reef may sit exposed at low tide even as another community braces for dangerous waves.

When the water drops

For island residents, a change of a few centimeters in sea level can become visible across a wide stretch of shallow reef.

Normally, trade winds push warm surface water westward, helping maintain higher sea levels in the western Pacific. During El Niño, those winds weaken or sometimes reverse. Water redistributes eastward, and sea levels can fall around Micronesia.

The September Pacific climate report documented sea levels generally 5–25 centimeters below normal across tropical Micronesia by August, locally approaching 30 centimeters below normal near parts of FSM, Palau and nearby waters.

That lower starting point matters when the tide goes out. Coral that usually remains underwater may emerge, or stay exposed longer under the sun.

Reports from Yap, Palau and the Marshall Islands fit that regional pattern. Establishing how unusual the exposure is at any particular reef still requires checking the recording time against local tides and sea-level observations.

Bleaching presents a different threat. When seawater remains unusually warm, corals can lose the microscopic algae that supply much of their food and color. They turn pale or white.

At Kiritimati in Kiribati, researcher Alyssa Atwood reported water about 2°C above its seasonal baseline and up to 10% of corals appearing bleached during recent dives, according to an August 13 New York Times report.

An exposed reef and a bleached reef are different observations. Both can signal stress, but neither automatically means the coral is dead. Bleached coral can recover when conditions improve; prolonged heat can kill it.

The unanswered question in Lamotrek

In Lamotrek, the concern began with fish.

Residents reported dead fish floating in the lagoon and washing ashore alongside unusually discolored water. Yap officials were alerted on June 13. Governor Francis Itimai convened a response meeting three days later, and a June 17 government release said the cause remained unknown.

For a community that depends on its lagoon for food, the questions were immediate: What had happened to the water? What did it mean for the fish people catch and eat?

FSM environment secretary Florian Yatilman later linked fish deaths across the archipelago to early El Niño effects, describing heated, darkened water and fish suffocating, according to a June 30 PACNEWS report.

His statement offered an official explanation. A scientific diagnosis specific to Lamotrek remains unresolved in the reporting available for this article.

Low oxygen, harmful algal blooms, disease, pollution and altered lagoon circulation are among the possible causes investigators would need to distinguish. Water samples, temperature and oxygen measurements, and examination of affected fish could help provide answers.

The fish deaths have drawn attention to changing lagoon conditions. Whether El Niño caused them remains an open question.

Storm after storm

While some communities watched the water recede, others faced its destructive force.

Sinlaku affected Chuuk in April before striking Tinian and Saipan on April 14–15. National Weather Service reporting documented damaged homes, flooding, coastal inundation and failures of power and communications. Chuuk’s hospital and schools sustained damage, and more than 100 residents entered shelters.

Tinian and Saipan experienced damaged or destroyed buildings, flooding and widespread interruptions to power and water.

Then came Bavi. On July 6, the Category 5 super typhoon struck Rota, damaging homes and infrastructure and causing flooding and outages. Recovery from one storm was still underway when another arrived.

October brought Champi.

At 4:26 a.m. on October 18, its eye passed approximately 10 miles south of Merizo, Guam. The compact eyewall carrying its most destructive winds narrowly missed the island. Champi subsequently strengthened into a Category 4 super typhoon with sustained winds near 150 mph within the storm.

Guam International Airport recorded sustained winds of approximately 45–55 mph and gusts reaching 80 mph. Flooding increased sediment in the Ugum River, forcing the water treatment plant to suspend operations. Rota experienced tropical-storm conditions, and dangerous seas affected waters throughout the Marianas.

El Niño can shift cyclone formation eastward and alter storm tracks. Determining its influence on an individual storm takes further analysis—particularly for April’s Sinlaku, which occurred before this El Niño developed.

For communities repairing roofs, restoring water and waiting for electricity, the practical burden is already clear: repeated storms leave less time to recover.

Rain now, drought later?

Heavy rain can make a drought warning feel distant. Across Micronesia, both concerns can belong to the same season.

During June–August, Airai in Palau recorded its driest such period on record. Yap, Chuuk, Majuro and Kwajalein received above-normal rainfall.

A regional rainfall total tells only part of the story. One island’s catchments may be filling while another community begins watching its stored water more closely.

Historically, El Niño-related drought can become more serious in parts of Micronesia during the months following its development. Tropical disturbances may still deliver downpours, even as the longer-term pattern turns drier.

On outer islands, several weeks without substantial rain can put pressure on household supplies. Reduced rainfall also affects freshwater lenses and food crops, extending the concern from drinking water to what families can grow and eat.

Preparing begins with ordinary work: checking catchments, repairing leaks, cleaning gutters and knowing how much water remains in storage.

When waves reach the sheltered shore

At Ebeye in September, residents’ videos showed waves washing over the dock and striking seawalls.

Chikin Melele’s September 13 report described north swell arriving during high spring tides. Former Hurricane Lowell was considered a possible source, although that connection remained unconfirmed.

Later that month, a separate weather episode brought strong west-southwest winds. RTS’s September 24 forecast linked those winds to the monsoon trough and a nearby circulation, and a West Wind Swell Warning was issued for Kwajalein and Roi-Namur.

The monsoon trough is a long zone of low pressure where winds come together, encouraging clouds, showers, thunderstorms and sometimes tropical disturbances. As it shifts, the wind direction around an island can change.

For Kwajalein, that change matters. The usual trade winds generally come from the east. Westerly winds can build waves toward lagoon-facing shores that are normally more sheltered.

El Niño can influence the broader circulation in which these systems develop. The immediate explanation for a particular wave event still lies in the winds, swell, tides and shape of the coast and reef.

That is how lower average sea levels and wave flooding can occur in the same season. The water can sit lower overall and still arrive at the shoreline with dangerous force.

Paying attention before a crisis

Micronesian communities have long watched the wind, water, reefs and fish for changes that affect daily life. Residents’ observations remain valuable alongside tide gauges, satellites, rainfall records and water-quality testing.

El Niño does not determine every storm, dry spell or change in the lagoon. It changes the conditions communities must navigate.

Across Micronesia, that work is already underway: recovering from storms, watching the reef at low tide, checking stored water and asking what has changed. The answers will differ from island to island. The need to pay attention—and prepare—extends across the region.