Coron is two paradises in one. Above the water, it's a maze of limestone islands rising like cathedrals out of a turquoise sea, with hidden lakes of unreal transparency, twin lagoons where fresh and salt water mix, white-sand beaches and jungle-covered cliffs. Kayangan Lake, boxed in between cliffs and considered one of the cleanest in Asia, is its most iconic image. You reach it by climbing a few steps up to a postcard viewpoint, then heading down to the mirror of emerald water among the rocks.
Below the water, Coron is something else entirely: one of the best diving destinations on the planet. In September 1944, US aircraft caught a fleet of Japanese ships by surprise here and sank them. They have been resting on the seabed for more than eight decades, turned into artificial reefs full of life. Diving among these Second World War wrecks, exploring their decks and peering into coral-covered holds while fish swim in and out of the portholes, is a unique experience that draws divers from all over the world.
This guide helps you make the most of both sides of Coron: which island hopping tours to take and what its lakes and lagoons cost, what wreck diving is like, how to get there by air or by sea from El Nido, and how to handle admissions and cash in a destination as spectacular as it is crowded in high season. Few places combine beauty above and below the sea, adventure and history the way Coron does, and it's the perfect partner to El Nido for discovering the best of northern Palawan.
Coron Island and the whole Calamian group are the ancestral territory of the Tagbanua people, one of the oldest indigenous groups in the Philippines. They have lived in the region for centuries and keep a sacred relationship with its lakes, coves and islands. In fact, much of Coron Island is legally recognised communal property of the Tagbanua, who manage access to places like Kayangan Lake and consider several of these sites sacred (some remain closed to tourism out of respect for their beliefs). Because of its position between the Philippines and Borneo, Palawan had early contact with Chinese and Malay traders, and Spanish colonisation here was more nominal than real. The historical event that made Coron famous worldwide happened on 24 September 1944. During the Second World War, US carrier-based aircraft attacked and sank a fleet of Japanese ships sheltering in these waters, creating the group of wrecks that is now a diving mecca. After the war and independence, Coron remained a quiet fishing backwater until, in recent decades, the fame of its lakes and wrecks turned it into one of the Philippines' great destinations. The full history of Palawan, the Tagbanua and the Coron wrecks is on our history page.
Read the full history ↓The Philippines' last frontier: a long, wild island that holds the country's oldest human remains, the Second World War wrecks of Coron and the karst landscapes of El Nido.
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Origins, formation and what the sources say.
Long before it became a world-famous diving destination, Coron was, and still is, the ancestral land of a very old people: the Tagbanua. This Indigenous group, one of the oldest in the Philippines, has lived for centuries in the Calamian archipelago, the island group in northern Palawan that Coron belongs to. They have their own culture, their own language and even an ancestral script inherited from the ancient writing systems of Southeast Asia.
For the Tagbanua, Coron Island isn't just a pretty place: it's sacred territory. The lakes hidden among the limestone cliffs, such as Kayangan itself, and many of the island's coves and caves are full of spiritual meaning. According to their beliefs, they are home to spirits and ancestors. Access to some of these places was traditionally restricted or forbidden, and even today some lakes and sites on the island stay closed to tourism out of respect for their sacred character.
That special bond with the land won notable legal recognition: the Tagbanua got the Philippine State to recognise their ancestral domain title over Coron Island and its waters, one of the first cases of its kind in the country. That's why, when travellers pay the entrance fee to Kayangan Lake or Twin Lagoon today, the money goes to the Tagbanua community, which manages access to its own territory. Knowing this changes how you see the place: Coron's landscapes aren't a theme park but the sacred home of a people who have looked after them for generations.
Coron belongs to the story of Palawan, the long island province known as the Philippines' 'last frontier' because of its remoteness, wild nature and sparse population. Palawan sits like a bridge between the rest of the archipelago and Borneo, and since ancient times it has been linked to the great maritime trade routes of Southeast Asia. Chinese, Malay and other merchants sailed its waters, and the many finds of old porcelain and pottery bear witness to that trade going back a thousand years and more.
With their countless islets, channels and hiding places among the cliffs, the Calamian Islands were for centuries a place where all kinds of vessels passed through and sometimes took shelter. The geography, a maze of limestone islands, was good for trade and fishing alike, and in troubled times it made a good hideout. People lived mainly from the sea and from what the islands provided, in small, scattered communities.
As in the rest of Palawan, Spanish colonisation here existed more on paper than in practice. The province was a remote, difficult frontier, and Spain never held it with the iron grip it had on Luzon or the Visayas. Throughout the colonial era, Coron and the Calamianes remained a sparsely populated corner on the margins. Their wealth was the sea, and their inhabitants, the Tagbanua and others, kept much of their way of life. Coron stayed an out-of-the-way place well into the 20th century, when first war and then tourism put it on the world map.
One date changed Coron's history for good and explains why it's now one of the world's great diving spots: 24 September 1944. The Second World War was raging in the Pacific, and US forces were advancing to retake the Philippines, which Japan had occupied. A fleet of Japanese support ships (tankers, cargo ships and supply vessels) had taken shelter in Coron Bay, believing it was out of reach of the enemy aircraft carriers.
They were wrong. That day, the United States Navy launched a daring, very long-range air strike from its carriers, one of the longest of the war up to that point, and caught the Japanese fleet at anchor in Coron. Within hours, US aircraft had bombed and sunk a dozen ships, which went down into these turquoise waters taking some of their crews with them. It was a military success and, for the Japanese, a disaster.
For decades the ships lay forgotten on the seabed, between 10 and 40 metres down. Time did its work: the steel hulls gradually became covered in coral, sponges and algae and turned into artificial reefs teeming with marine life. Over the years, what had been a war graveyard became one of the most fascinating underwater landscapes on the planet, a place where 20th-century history and nature merged beneath the surface.
After the Second World War and Philippine independence in 1946, Coron went back to its usual quiet life as a remote fishing corner of northern Palawan, where people still lived from the sea. The sunken ships stayed on the seabed, known to local fishermen but ignored by the rest of the world. For decades nobody visited them in any systematic way: recreational diving was still a niche activity and Coron was far from everything.
That changed in the last decades of the 20th century. As sport diving became popular, the first adventurous divers began exploring and documenting Coron's wrecks. Word spread through the international diving community: here was an exceptional group of well-preserved warships at accessible depths, in warm waters full of life. Coron began to appear on lists of the world's best wreck diving destinations, and the first dive centres, places to stay and visitors followed.
The attractions above the water soon added to the appeal of the wrecks. The beauty of Coron Island, with hidden lakes like Kayangan, its lagoons, cliffs and beaches, began to draw a wider crowd, not just divers. Well into the 21st century, as the internet and social media took off, images of Coron travelled around the world and the destination boomed. Hotels, hostels, island hopping operators and dive shops multiplied in town, and Coron went from divers' secret to one of the Philippines' great tourist icons, in the same league as its neighbour El Nido.
Twenty-first-century Coron is a well-established destination and one of the Philippines' great draws. Few places combine adventure above the water (island hopping to dreamlike lakes and beaches) with adventure below it (the legendary war wrecks) the way it does. Travellers come from all over the world every year, and tourism has become the economic engine of an area that once lived almost entirely from fishing, bringing jobs and opportunities to thousands of people in Coron town and the islands.
As everywhere in Palawan, that success brings the challenge of balance. Coron's popularity means the most famous lakes can get crowded in high season. It also puts pressure on the environment and on the services of a town whose infrastructure doesn't always keep pace with visitor numbers. The fragile ecosystems (the coral reefs, the lakes, the wrecks themselves) need care, and the example of other Philippine destinations that suffered from uncontrolled tourism is never far from mind. That's why fees, controls and sustainability rules are in place.
One thing sets Coron apart and gives hope for its future: the central role of the Indigenous Tagbanua community, legal owners and ancestral guardians of Coron Island. The Tagbanua themselves manage access to their sacred lakes, collect the entrance fees and decide which sites open and which stay closed. It's a rare and valuable model of community-based conservation. For travellers, the best way to make sure this double paradise, with turquoise water above and sunken ships below, keeps amazing those who come next is to enjoy Coron with respect: look after the coral and the wrecks, leave no rubbish, respect the sacred nature of the lakes and support the local community.
