My Hour on an Atoll

Where on this ring of tiny islands are we going to land?”  Looking ahead I see a thin green circle of land surrounded by beautiful light turquoise water.  The plane banks sharply to the left and as we descend the green turns into coconut palms, houses show through the trees, water differentiates itself into bands of varying shades of blue and the coral reef starts to show through the clear blue water.  Finally a stretch of land with a strip of black asphalt and a white stripe down the middle appears. We slowly glide down and glancing back and forth between the windows on either side of me all I can see is water and just below me only sand.  I notice a bulldozer that has pushed sand into piles at the end of the runway and a part of a broken  sea wall that has a temporary patch of sandbags keeping potential waves off the runway.  Touchdown! and we’ve just landed at Majuro Atoll International Airport. 

Nillson called several hours ago asking me if I wanted to ride the airplane that was heading to Hawaii for an engine change.  A Boeing 737-800 doesn’t carry enough fuel to make the trip from Guam so we will have to stop at the Majuro Atoll to refuel before continuing on the Honolulu for an overnight engine change. I’ve never seen an atoll so I jump at the chance; besides, being the only passengers on a flight to Hawaii for dinner sounded like a pretty good date night. 

After tossing a few clothes into an overnight bag and taking a quick nap we met the pilots at the airport for a 2 AM departure.  As employees we can ride without a cabin crew so on take-off Nillson and I were the only ones in the cabin. With nothing to see in the middle of the night we napped for a few hours until the flight crew let us know we were approaching Majuro.  At first a bit jealous when Nillson was invited to sit in the extra cockpit seat for landing I felt better when I was promised the seat on the return trip.  At the captain’s suggestion I sat on the left side of the plane and caught my first site of an atoll.  A jeweled emerald ring highlighted in turquoise lay sunning itself in the middle of the Pacific.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of the small green islands surrounded by white sand, some joined together while others were separated by a wash of blue water.   I stared out the window until the first group of islands disappeared from view and within a few minutes I caught a glimpse of another atoll, this time it was Majuro.  

"Who would think to put an airport on this strip of land in the middle of the Pacific.  It turns out, Majuro has been inhabited for at least 2000 years. The Germans used it as a trading post in the late 1800's before being invaded by the Japanese during WWI and then taken over by the Americans during WWII when it became a major forward naval base.  Under the control of the US as a Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands, Majuro is the administrative center of the Marshall Islands and became independent in 1986.   

Thankful the pilots were able to find the thin stretch of land that served as a landing strip I feel giddy with excitement at what I've just seen.  The ground crew pulls up a set of stairs so that we can get off the plane and while Nillson confers with the mechanic and the fueler, I follow the captain into the airport.  Surprised to hear the captain speaking the local language I manage to understand that he is asking permission for me to be off the plane and in the airport; this is international territory so even though it is a tiny island I should  go through customs and immigration if I want to officially get off the flight but we are only in transit.   It turns out that Jay, the captain was raised on Majuro so he speaks the language and seems to know everyone here.  We make our way to the lunch counter where the tuna sandwiches he called ahead to order are waiting for us. A seared slice of tuna, probably caught that morning no more than a few hundred feet away, was snuggled into a simple toasted bun with mayo and couldn’t have tasted better.  Much better than the 70% of the tuna caught here that will end up in Bumble Bee tuna cans.  Next we stop at the operations office where Jay jokes and chats with several ladies with long dark braids that reached past the smalls of their backs and with workers wearing flip flops and flowered shirts, with these laid back friendly people who are the heart of the airport operations.  He is looking for Paul who will make sure we will find tuna loin when we pass through on our return trip tomorrow.  Before going back out to the plane Jay shows me the handicraft shops where I buy some shell jewelry and a small, finely woven white basket made from the fronds of the local trees that had been torn into thin strips and bleached. 

When I ask Jay if he grew up in the area he says he isn’t so sure he’s grown up yet but that his father had come out to the island many years ago working as a liaison between the US and the island and that he had lived on many of the local islands. When I ask if he has enjoyed living here he tells me he enjoys living wherever he is.  When I ask where he likes to eat he tells me he likes “wherever I’m eating.”  Every day is a good day for him, he appreciates everything he does and has, and enjoys everyone he meets.  I love his outlook!  He may not look like a typical islander but the more people I meet here in the region the more I see that this is the local attitude.  Maybe more of us should spend time on the islands and learn to love life as it comes.

Soon we got word that the plane had been refueled and it is time to head out again.  As we walk back to the plane I take a last look around at the palm trees that surrounded the tiny terminal and at the beautiful soaring cloud formations rising over the end of the runway.   With only an hour here I didn’t have time to learn much about how life is lived on an atoll but if it gives the gift of appreciation then I want to come back to spend more time on this beautiful jewel that is quickly fading below us.