Discover the best time of year, based on historical climate, temperature, and precipitation.
The best weather in Sandakan is from February. — some variation climate
⛈Hot & rainy
| Score | 46 | 58 | 57 | 50 | 37 | 38 | 42 | 42 | 39 | 36 | 40 | 42 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Climate | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy | Hot & rainy |
| Temperature | 24–28°C | 25–28°C | 25–29°C | 25–30°C | 25–30°C | 25–30°C | 25–30°C | 25–30°C | 25–30°C | 25–30°C | 25–29°C | 25–29°C |
| Feels like | 29–34°C | 29–33°C | 30–35°C | 31–37°C | 31–38°C | 30–37°C | 30–37°C | 30–37°C | 30–37°C | 30–37°C | 30–36°C | 30–35°C |
| Precipitation | 375mm 30 days | 209mm 29 days | 176mm 28 days | 174mm 25 days | 248mm 27 days | 261mm 25 days | 238mm 21 days | 230mm 22 days | 262mm 25 days | 304mm 30 days | 356mm 30 days | 326mm 30 days |
| Sunshine | 6.5h ☀︎ 55% | 8.0h ☀︎ 67% | 9.4h ☀︎ 78% | 10.2h ☀︎ 83% | 8.9h ☀︎ 72% | 7.4h ☀︎ 60% | 7.5h ☀︎ 60% | 7.8h ☀︎ 64% | 7.5h ☀︎ 62% | 6.8h ☀︎ 57% | 6.8h ☀︎ 57% | 6.3h ☀︎ 54% |
| Wind | NE · 16 km/h | NE · 18 km/h | NE · 16 km/h | NE · 14 km/h | SE · 12 km/h | S · 12 km/h | S · 12 km/h | S · 12 km/h | S · 12 km/h | S · 12 km/h | N · 13 km/h | N · 14 km/h |
| Humidity (%) | 87% | 84% | 83% | 83% | 85% | 86% | 85% | 85% | 86% | 86% | 88% | 88% |
| Day length | 11.8h | 11.9h | 12.1h | 12.3h | 12.4h | 12.5h | 12.4h | 12.3h | 12.2h | 12.0h | 11.9h | 11.8h |
December packs Sandakan to absolute capacity during one of its soggiest, most torrential months, while the genuine sweet spot—February and March—offers clear skies and quiet streets at half the crowds.
Sandakan is a working coastal port carved into the eastern edge of Borneo, perched above the wide sweep of Sandakan Bay where colonial gunboats, timber barons, and sea traders once traded dominion over the Sulu Sea. Visitors arrive here seeking a stepping stone into Sabah's deep wilderness or tracing the weathered remnants of its British North Borneo past, when the settlement answered to the name Elopura. Yet most travelers misjudge the equatorial maritime calendar entirely. They flood the waterfront in midwinter under brooding storm clouds, oblivious to the fact that just weeks later, the monsoon breaks and reveals the coast at its absolute finest.
February and March represent the golden hour of the Sandakan calendar. The relentless wall of winter water finally collapses, leaving behind the cleanest air and clearest horizons of the year. While mainland travelers brace for tropical damp, Sandakan settles into an unusually gentle coastal rhythm. Daily rainfall drops to its annual low, arriving mostly as light, fleeting showers that clear in minutes rather than swamp your plans.
This is the premier window to explore the town on foot before the afternoon heat builds to punishing levels. The climb up the forested bluff to Agnes Keith House is shadowed and breezy, offering sweeping looks across the blue expanse of Sandakan Bay without the suffocating vapor that coats the town later in the spring. Further along the crest, the hilltop grounds of Puu Jih Shih Temple provide unobstructed views across the mangroves and bustling shipping channels under bright, expansive skies.
March, in particular, is an overlooked gem. It registers the most daily sunshine of any month on the peninsula, yet visitor numbers crater to the quietest levels of the entire year. You can wander through the timber boardwalks of Kampung Buli Sim Sim watching fishermen haul their morning catches without competing with tour coaches, enjoying the rare sensation of an equatorial outpost operating entirely on its own terms.
By April, the weather undergoes a rapid shift toward heavy, stifling heat. The sun beats down with ferocious intensity across the waterfront esplanade, pushing apparent temperatures into the upper thirties. The sea air turns thick and motionless, making any midday climb toward St. Michael's and All Angels Church an endurance test against humidity.
Curiously, April sees an enormous surge in visitor traffic, despite the rising discomfort. Crowds arrive en masse just as the atmospheric weight starts to pin you indoors between midday and late afternoon. If you find yourself here during this window, schedule every physical excursion for the earliest hour of dawn, retreating to covered verandas or maritime lookouts once the sun climbs overhead.
May brings the true transition into the summer wet pattern. The heat remains unrelenting, but the atmosphere grows increasingly volatile. Heavy afternoon downpours begin to assert themselves across the Sandakan Peninsula, breaking the heat only temporarily before leaving the air even more saturated than before.
From June through October, Sandakan settles into a steady, hot, and damp equilibrium. These months do not suffer the catastrophic washouts of the deep winter monsoon, but they deliver a reliable cycle of midday swelter punctuated by sudden, violent cloudbursts. The rain during this stretch arrives with real force—thunderous afternoon squalls that flood low-lying streets and hammer the tin roofs across the old town.
Travel during this extended period demands flexibility. Morning outings are generally viable, but any plan requiring an open boat or an exposed trek must account for sudden afternoon squalls rolling off the Sulu Sea. The humidity rarely abates; nightfall offers little cooling relief, with thick maritime warmth clinging to the bay long after sundown.
Crowds ebb and flow across this corridor, dipping during early summer before rising again through August and September as global holiday schedules peak. October marks the beginning of the slide toward the true monsoon, bringing deteriorating skies, steadily mounting rainfall totals, and the lowest overall comfort levels of the autumn.
November heralds the arrival of the Northeast Monsoon, opening a three-month chapter of relentless, drenching rain. Immense squall lines blow in off the open sea, dumping hundreds of millimeters of water across the peninsula each month. The sky during this season remains a perpetual gunmetal gray, with the sun struggling to make appearances through thick cloud decks.
Here lies the great paradox of Sandakan: December is statistically the single busiest month of the year, despite being one of the wettest and bleakest. International holidaymakers arrive at peak capacity, only to spend days stranded under dripping awnings or watching the bay disappear behind thick walls of gray spray. Low-lying roads routinely pool with water, boat excursions face delays due to choppy coastal swells, and the damp penetrates everything.
January continues this deluge, retaining the heavy downpours while crowds thankfully taper off. Unless you genuinely enjoy the atmospheric drama of equatorial monsoons rattling wooden stilt houses and drowning the coastal hills, this is the season to avoid. Hold your nerve and delay your arrival until February, when the skies part and the town breathes clean again.