Aboard the MV Tokelau

The boat begins to roll. It is increasing now as we make way into the true ocean from out the protection of the harbor, and we feel the first hints of the motion we shall experience for the next three days. We watch the lights of the city recede into the dark night's horizon, enjoying the serenity of escape before the seasickness sets in and there is nothing left but black night and the smell of diesel fumes. The glow of the cabin lights prevents sleep. The wheelhouse is dark except for a foot in the window of a fellow passenger searching for a comfortable place to lay it. We are scattered on the mats and mattresses laid upon the floor, others lay upon the hard benches. Once the lights are turned out we try at a fitful sleep feeling the fight between the sea, of the waves traveling their great expanse to collide with our small vessel, its engine churning incessantly, pushing us through each wave.

The rain starts early the next morning while it is still dark and four young men hold a tarp to protect the others enduring the wind and rain until the storm subsides and they can retire to the galley for a cup of tea. We sail all the next day spending the majority of the time sleeping off the previous night's nausea, and eating as much as we can of the ship's warm food, chicken curry.

We arrive at the first island, Fakaofo, in the middle of the night and wait to the first glow of sunrise to appear of the island before we head for the anchorage. Unloading takes place amidst fits of rain. A small boat rides out to take passengers to the island. The driver's of the craft wear medical masks to prevent the spread of disease. Only those passengers bound for Fakaofo are allowed to disembark. the rest of us must stay upon the swaying ship unable to greet the occupants of the island. Large crates are maneuvered with the ship's crane onto the small barge which takes the goods to the island's wharf.

Unforeseen circumstances mar our plans, telecommunications engineers traveling aboard must stop at each of the islands for several hours while the rest of us wait. It is an inconvenience we accept as discouraging but necessary. We too will need the benefit of internet access for our work and do not wish for the people of these islands to be without it. For those stricken with seasickness it is an ironic relief as the boat rocks gently. For others who eat heartily there is little activity to release pent up energy besides puring through the few books we brought with us.

The next day we arrive at the second island, Nukunonu, and are relieved that we will be allowed to see the island while the engineers do their work. We feel the island sway beneath our feet and realize how much we have become accustomed to the rocking of the ship. We walk around the island telling people of our project. They are all excited about our work and ask when we will come to their island. We tell them that we must learn what we can from the other islands before we come next to there's as Nukunonu is much bigger than the other's and poses greater difficulties. Their faces still show a weary disbelief. Good fortune comes our way and the telecommunications engineers finish their work early. Some of them are from the island of Atafu, our final destination, and they too must want to reach home before they must spend another night aboard the ship.

We reach the anchorage at Atafu as the sun is setting and board the boat to the wharf while the last blue light is still in the sky. John Kalolo, the co-director of the project, greets us as we come ashore and shows each of us to the house where we will be staying, introducing the family at each of these homes who will be taking care of our needs. Plentiful food can always be expected and any need is instantly attended to. For now our most immediate need is a shower, and a soft bed.