Before Europeans arrived, the Bajau people inhabited Gaya Island, fishing its waters and living along its shores. The North Borneo Chartered Company saw strategic potential: a natural harbor close to the mainland, sheltered by ridges rising to 300 meters. By 1882, administrative buildings lined the waterfront. But explorer John Whitehead, visiting in 1893, described an outpost struggling against its own geography -- extreme heat, difficult anchorage, and no reliable freshwater. When Mat Salleh's forces razed the settlement four years later, the British abandoned the island entirely. They briefly considered Gantian on the mainland, but its mangrove swamps proved unsuitable for rail construction. In 1899, they founded Jesselton -- named for company manager Charles Jessel -- as the permanent replacement. The island that was meant to be a capital became a forest reserve instead, gazetted in 1923.

About a million years ago, melting ice reshaped the coastline and severed five chunks of land from the Borneo mainland. Gaya, Sapi, Manukan, Mamutik, and Sulug became islands, each developing its own ecological character. In 1974, the Malaysian government gazetted Gaya and Sapi as the Tunku Abdul Rahman Park -- Sabah's second national park after Kinabalu. Five years later, the remaining three islands joined, expanding the park to nearly 5,000 hectares, two-thirds of which is ocean. Beneath the surface, coral gardens shelter black-blotched porcupinefish and two-lined monocle bream. Above the waterline, Gaya's forests harbor oriental pied hornbills, collared kingfishers, and the rare Philippine megapode. Proboscis monkeys, those pot-bellied, long-nosed primates found only on Borneo, are monitored through the Gaya Island Resort Wildlife Centre. The resort's marine centre runs coral reef restoration and turtle rescue programs in partnership with Reef Check Malaysia.

The eastern face of Gaya Island tells a very different story from the pristine forests of its interior. Here, the settlement known as Kampung Lok Urai sprawls across the water on wooden stilts, its houses connected by weathered plank walkways. Beginning in the 1970s, largely Muslim Filipino migrants arrived in waves, building homes that spread steadily seaward with little infrastructure or sanitation. Three devastating fires -- in 1994, 1998, and 2014 -- destroyed nearly half of the adjacent Pondo Village, but the settlement persisted. Of Gaya's approximately 30,000 residents, only about 1,000 are original island inhabitants. The Sabah state government has struggled for decades to address the situation, proposing relocations to the mainland town of Kinarut with modern housing. These plans met fierce opposition from Sabahan citizens concerned about the broader implications. The tension between conservation, human settlement, and plans to develop Gaya as a tourism hub remains one of Sabah's most pressing and sensitive challenges.

Gaya's tropical rainforest climate keeps temperatures between 25 and 32 degrees Celsius year-round, but two monsoon seasons define the rhythm of island life. From March through early September, calmer seas make conditions ideal for snorkeling, diving, and paddleboarding. The November-to-February monsoon brings heavy rainfall and rougher waters, turning the crossing from Kota Kinabalu into an adventure of its own. A zip line connects Gaya to neighboring Sapi Island, and guided treks wind through the old-growth interior. In 2025, Kota Kinabalu City Hall opened a new tourist jetty to improve access to the park. Proposals for a cable car linking the island to the city center have surfaced periodically, part of a broader vision to transform Gaya into an urban-adjacent island destination. For now, the island remains what it has been for more than a century -- a place where ambition and wildness compete for the same ground.