If you ask a Solomon Islander about tourism, you won’t get a brochure answer. You’ll hear about reefs and rainforests, yes, but you’ll also hear about families, villages, and the quiet pride of a people who still measure success in community, not in check-ins.
A rare thing has happened across this scattered Pacific nation of nearly a thousand islands: ordinary Solomon Islanders have been asked what they think about tourism, not what visiting consultants or hotel investors think they should think.
The Pacific Tourism Organisation (SPTO), in partnership with Tourism Solomons and the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, has completed the country’s first Community Attitude Survey, a year-long effort to capture the voices of the people who live and breathe tourism every day.
The results are as textured as the islands themselves. Tourism is welcome, they say, but only if it respects the reefs, honours the culture, and crucially shares the spoils.
A New Voice in the Conversation
The survey, conducted between November 2024 and June 2025, gathered insights from over 1,200 Solomon Islanders across all nine provinces. It’s the first time such a broad cross-section has been asked not about their beaches or carvings, but their opinions.
It turns out they have plenty.
Most see tourism as vital for growth and jobs, a way to loosen the country’s dependence on logging and fisheries. But they also see a pattern familiar across the Pacific: the tourists fly in, the money flies out, and those left on the islands are often left wondering what happened to the promise of prosperity.
One respondent said, “Tourism makes our country look rich but not our people.”
That sentiment could easily become the headline for the survey’s findings.
Culture at the Centre
For all its economic promise, Solomon Islanders are adamant that culture, not commerce, must anchor the industry’s future. Their heritage runs deep: shell money still circulates, traditional dances still mark the seasons, and hospitality remains a matter of pride, not policy.
But they worry that unchecked tourism could turn living culture into performance art.
As Tourism Solomons Acting CEO, Dagnal Dereveke, put it:
“The communities are the custodians of our resources and cultures. They determine the type of tourism best suited for the Solomon Islands.”
Dereveke says the organisation will use the survey to build policy “that respects our people and culture while providing benefits that last for future generations.”
In short, tourism must not dilute what makes the islands special; it must protect them.
Infrastructure: The Great Barrier
It’s one thing to want sustainable tourism; it’s another to reach it. And that, quite literally, is the problem.
Many respondents pointed out that visitors can’t explore the islands if ferries don’t run, roads flood, or digital connections drop out halfway through a booking. Honiara may hum with construction, but in the outer provinces, the basics still lag behind.
One villager said, “We can’t build guesthouses when the road to them disappears in the rain.”
In the Solomons, infrastructure isn’t just about convenience; it’s about access to opportunity. Until transport, sanitation, and power reach beyond the capital, tourism will struggle to reach its potential.
The Human Capital Challenge
Beyond ports and roads, another kind of infrastructure needs investment: people.
The survey strongly supported tourism education and vocational training, particularly for youth and women. The enthusiasm is there — the skill base is not. Many want to run homestays, eco-tours, or crafts businesses, but lack training or funding to get started.
One young respondent wrote: “Teach us to own tourism, not just work in it.”
It’s a line that could sit comfortably in any economic reform paper, though it’s unlikely to be said as eloquently.
The Pacific Tourism Data Initiative, funded by New Zealand, is already trying to address this by producing more localised data and supporting training. But, as with many Pacific projects, implementation will be the true test.
Data With a Soul
SPTO Chief Executive Christopher Cocker summed up the initiative’s importance in one phrase: “Data is king.”
He’s right, of course, though it’s a benevolent monarch in this case. The CAS report isn’t just a spreadsheet; it’s a snapshot of national sentiment. It reveals people who are not anti-tourism but pro-fairness, who see the industry as a shared journey rather than a transaction.
Cocker called the survey a “milestone for the Solomon Islands,” which “reflects the aspirations and concerns of the people who live the reality of tourism every day.”
That may sound like diplomatic phrasing, but it speaks to something real: for the first time, the Solomon Islands’ tourism policy might be written with the people, not just about them.
The Way Forward
If there’s a single message from the survey, it’s this: tourism must evolve in Solomon’s time. The nation’s greatest strength is its unhurried authenticity, but it could easily be its most significant loss if growth is too fast or foreign.
For now, the tone is hopeful. Communities are willing, government agencies listen, and international partners support the shift toward sustainable, community-led models.
However, as always, the proof will come not from the policy documents but from the provinces. Will the roads hold? Will the schools teach? Will the profits stay?
The Solomon Islands isn’t asking for the world, just a tourism industry that feels like it belongs to its people.
And if the rest of the Pacific is watching, they might find that the “Hapi Isles” have something to teach them, too: that true hospitality begins not with a handshake at the airport, but with respect.
By Alison Jenkins
BIO
Alison Jenkins has spent much of her career at thirty thousand feet or at least close to it. Having worked in several sales roles with several airlines, she built a reputation for knowing her clients and flight schedules. Quick with a smile and sharper still with a deal, she became one of those rare people who could charm passengers and partners without losing her professional edge.
Trade shows and FAMILS were all part of the territory, and Alison became a regular on the circuit, with suitcases, smiles, and a notepad never far from reach. Somewhere between airport lounges and hotel lobbies, she discovered she loved telling the stories behind the journeys. Her post-FAMILS reports, meant for internal newsletters, began to take on a life of their own, lively, observant, and unmistakably hers.
That’s when Alison realised she wasn’t just selling travel, she was meant to write about it.
