Funafuti Atoll is a ring of 29 coral islets around a deep lagoon in Tuvalu, in the central Pacific, the capital of one of the smallest and lowest countries on Earth, where the main islet of Fongafale narrows to ten metres between ocean and lagoon and nowhere rises five metres above the sea, and it is visited for the lagoon, the empty islets and the sight of a nation building ground to stay above the water. Fongafale carries the whole of Funafuti on a single road, churches, shops, family compounds, the hospital and the government building, past breadfruit trees and pig pens with water glinting on both sides, and the airstrip in the middle, quarried out of the islet by American forces in the war, is the island's only open space, where volleyball nets go up on the tarmac at dusk and motorbikes idle along the edges when no flight is due; on the lagoon side a platform of dredged sand 780 metres long, finished in 2023, is raised deliberately above the sea-level projections for 2100, the ground Tuvalu built. In February and March the highest spring tides stand over the airstrip apron and the low ground behind the village for a few hours.
The lagoon, Te Namo, is the reason to go further. An hour's crossing lands on Tepuka or Fualopa, uninhabited islets inside the Funafuti Conservation Area, where six islets on the far side of the lagoon have been closed to fishing since 1999 and the only tracks in the sand are seabirds', with the reef alive under the boat. Beside the road on Fongafale a plain capped hole, David's Drill, is the borehole sunk by the Royal Society in 1898 to test Darwin's theory of how atolls form, which found coral to 340 metres and settled it. Every internet address ending in .tv pays rent to Tuvalu, and the country's few thousand people live between the lagoon and the sea. Funafuti is a ring of sand that a country stands on, and the country is raising it.