Lazarus Island

About Lazarus Island

The island's name literally translates to 'Island of One Barking Deer and Palms,' reflecting its once-wild state. While its neighbors were developed into industrial sites or quarantine stations, Lazarus was largely ignored until the 1970s when the government recognized its potential for tourism. The reclamation project of the 1990s was a massive undertaking, requiring thousands of tons of sand to be shipped in to create the perfect, symmetrical lagoon that visitors enjoy today. It remains a rare example of a planned 'natural' space that feels remarkably organic.

Crystal-clear turquoise water meets a crescent of white sand on this uninhabited island, offering a glimpse of what the region looked like before the arrival of container ships and sky-high condos. Linked to St. John’s Island by a paved causeway, Lazarus remains one of the few places in the country where the sound of the ocean isn't drowned out by the hum of machinery. There are no shops, no residents, and until recently, very little infrastructure, making it the premier destination for those seeking a 'desert island' experience within sight of the world's busiest ports. The beach is fringed by Casuarina trees that provide a thin strip of shade against the fierce equatorial sun.

Lazarus Island, also known as Pulau Sakijang Pelepah, has a somewhat dark history that the modern beachgoer rarely sees. In the late 19th century, it was used to house a prison and a leper colony, chosen for its isolation from the main island. During the mid-20th century, it was part of a group of islands that housed political detainees. In the late 1990s, the government began a massive land reclamation project to join several smaller islands together, creating the large lagoon and the bridge to St. John’s. This transformation turned a site of exile into a site of recreation, though it has purposely been kept underdeveloped to preserve its tranquil atmosphere.

The air is intensely hot but carries the clean, sharp scent of salt spray. You hear the rhythmic wash of the waves against the shore and the occasional rustle of a monitor lizard moving through the dry brush behind the beach. The water is surprisingly clear, allowing you to see small fish darting around your ankles in the shallow lagoon. You notice the lack of crowds during the week, leaving the long stretch of sand entirely to yourself and a few wandering cats that have made the island their home. In the late afternoon, the light turns the sand a brilliant, blinding white before fading into a soft pink as the sun sets over the distant Semakau Landfill.

Ferries depart regularly from Marina South Pier, usually stopping at St. John’s Island first. From the jetty at St. John’s, it is a pleasant fifteen-minute walk across the causeway to reach the beach at Lazarus. There are no taxis or public transport on the island, so be prepared to carry everything you need. Private yachts often anchor in the lagoon, providing a more luxurious but less accessible way to reach the shore.

The Experience

You feel the heat of the sand through your shoes as you make the walk across the causeway, the wind picking up as the land falls away on both sides. The silence of the island is its most striking feature; the lack of cars and construction creates a sonic vacuum that is rare in Singapore. You notice the way the water changes color as the tide comes in, from a pale jade to a deep, royal blue. It is a place of absolute simplicity where the primary activity is doing nothing at all, a luxury that feels earned after the boat ride across the strait.

Why It Matters

Lazarus Island is the city's pressure valve. It represents the necessary counter-narrative to the hyper-urbanized mainland, proving that the value of land doesn't always have to be measured in floor-to-area ratios. It is a vital sanctuary for both people and the marine life that thrives in its protected lagoon.

Why Visit

Visit for the silence. While Sentosa offers beaches with beach clubs and music, Lazarus offers a beach with nothing but the wind and the waves. It is the only place in Singapore where you can truly feel like you’ve escaped the 21st century for a few hours.