Most Grateful People: Kiribati
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| Our lady friend in Abaiang, south village |
Memorial Day 2018
Majuro, Marshall Islands
On this memorial day, 2018, I thought it would be appropriate to thank our servicemen and their families for their sacrifices. The price of freedom is high, ultimately high, and knowing that the freed people do not forget their liberators is a balm.
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| Sitting on the Equator |
In November 2017, we stopped in Kiribati (pronounced “Kiribass”) without the foggiest idea of what we were going to find. We only had heard from other cruisers that on November 20th, every year, the islanders of Butaritari commemorate the battle of Makin. Since Kiribati was on the way between Vanuatu and the Marshall Islands, just north of the Equator, we thought it would be a nice stop, even if the authorities only grant a 30-day visa to cruising yachts.
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| Tactical error on landing: choosing a neap-low tide to land the troops |
Betio Beach - 1*44.453 N, 171*01.795E - As we dropped anchor at Betio Beach, it suddenly dawned on us that this was the infamous Tarawa of the previously-named Gilbert Islands. This very beach is where Operation Galvanic took place, one of the bloodiest battles of WWII, where, from November 20th to 24th 1943, a total of 35,000 U.S. marines and soldiers attacked this 3,800 yard wide strip of land, decimating the 4,500 Japanese soldiers, making the battle of Tarawa one of the bloodiest in the history of American landing assaults. It was also the first American victory over the Japanese, and the turning point of war in the Pacific. The cost to our forces? 1,113 dead Marines and 2,290 wounded.
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| Betio Beach |
We dropped anchor at Betio’s Red 1 Beach, just short of assault ship wrecks, and let the history of the place slowly seep into our minds. So many dead, on such a tiny strip of land, it seemed obscene. In the bus to the the immigration office, it felt surreal to drive along the Japanese Causeway, passing decrepit bunkers, rusted pillboxes, jutting defense guns, pressed against a human throng of Malay, Indonesian, Japanese, Philippino, even a few token Polynesian, trying to ignore the squalor of shanties and unfinished cement block buildings. Dealing with immigrations and customs authorities did nothing to lift the malaise: customs and immigration seem to have their own internal war, each wanting to control the movement of foreign ships, forcing the yachtie to kowtow to both.
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| Taking a nap underway, I can always see the islands |
There is only ONE port of entry in Kiribati: Tarawa. Yachts may not enter or exit anywhere else. In order for us to visit Butaritari 140 NM to the north, we had to ask special permission from immigration AND customs in Tarawa, then return to Tarawa to process our exit. With only 30 days to visit the entire atoll and the paperwork hassle, it’s no wonder that very few cruisers bother to make landfall in Tarawa. What a shame, though. If Tarawa is nothing much than an overcrowded shanty town, the rest of the atolls are just wonderful.
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| No wonder that a large tuna fishing fleet loiters in these waters |
Two days later, armed with permits to visit Abaiang and Butaritari, we made for Abaiang Atoll, 38 NM away. With the wind from the south, we decided to make for the southern anchorage and wait for the wind to shift to the East before landing at the main village to present our paperwork.
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| So many islands... one of them |
Pass Waypoints:
WP1 outside - 01*44.983N, 172*58.034E
WP2 inside - 01*46.206N, 172*58.977E - Turn 90* to starboard, straight to the anchorage.
We used the middle pass on the west side of the lagoon, since the southernmost pass is too shallow and the northernmost is still loaded with unexploded depth charges!
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| Abainag, South anchorage - talcum-powder sand |
ABAIANG SOUTH - 01*44.453N, 173*01.795E - 3.5m - Thick sand. If the snorkeling failed to impress us, the villagers won our hearts. The homes? A simple platform made of coconut trunks, a roof of woven palm leaves, woven coco mats on the floor.
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| Typical home construction. The COCONUT tree is the life of these island |
Wherever we walked, people would hail us, make us sit on the platform, share fresh coconut (“Moimoto”) and communicate with smiles and a few words in English.
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| Homework time! |
They are the loveliest people. Their needs are few. Gardens? it doesn’t rain much in Abaiang, but depressions in the ground (old shell craters from WWII???) retain enough water to grow taro, banana, and pumpkin.
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| Our favorite couple. |
ABAING TABUARO VILLAGE - 01*49.088N, 173*00.871E - sand - Of course, the policeman was waiting for us on shore, adamant to see our permit. We obliged, and he was not too happy to have waited a week for us to show up at the village. Was he going to arrest us? He just motored away on his moped, asking us to slide the documents under the door at the police station.
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| School pickup |
The village was quite deserted. Yet, we were impressed by the cleanliness of the streets, the hedges made of braided coconut palm, and the water distribution at each house: a halved fishing float for sink, PVC faucets and lines to carry water from the cisterns to each home. The best we’ve ever seen in the islands.
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| Tabuaro: The loveliest, cleanest village we've visited, |
There was, once, a pearl farm in this village, but it seems that pearl oysters did not like the conditions of the lagoon and the farm has long been abandoned.
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| Every home is fitted with running water |
It is any wonder that the village has been labeled ORGANIC? There is absolutely nothing to pollute the place!
BUTARITARI - Main village - 03*04.566N, 172*47.120E - 6m - sand. This is a peculiar anchorage. A very shallow reef stands between the anchorage and the village, which makes it almost impossible to land at low tide. We had to time our landing just right. Another squalid village, dilapidated school house, rubbish-littered streets and paths: not a pleasant place, but the police officer met us quickly enough, gave us a bit of a hard time about our length of stay (we declared 14 days while our document only authorized 10 days) and it wasn’t long before we anchored up and left for a more hospitable village.
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| A typical food storage shed |
KUMA VILLAGE (Butaritari) - 03*10.539N, 172*57.242E - 7m - sand. Did you say HEAVEN??? We dropped anchor just short of the shallows that fringe the village. Yes, another place impossible to reach at low tide! But what a reception. If there is heaven on earth, this has to be it. Never have we encountered people so warm, happy, simple, absolutely at peace. The community (just a few families) is strong.
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| Our host in Kuma, speaks English, served on a ship for many years... His trunk is behind him, the key around his neck, and that's about it! |
Not a single cement block house: only traditional platforms, open to the elements, sheltered by a palm roof and woven palm shutters on coconut fiber strings to keep the sun or rain out. Possessions? They all fit in a locked trunk or battered suitcase, the key hanging on a string around the owner’s neck. Would our whole life fit in a single trunk? Can life be that un-embarrassed?
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| A typical "window blind," lowered or raised to provide shade or protect from the rain |
On November 20th, we were ready to travel to Ukiangang Village, at the south end of the island. JP had rented a motorcycle and we did OK until we hit a bump on the causeway and took a spectacular spill. From that point on, I rode behind our hostess on her vespa-like “put-put”. And hour later (and sore butt) we reached Teinaura Primary school where the WWII Memorial ceremony was held.
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| The local kids are always ready to tag along |
What a reception! We were the only tourists, only joined by 2 LDS missionaries, one from the US, one from Fiji.
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| "Thank You America" |
We presented an American flag to the community and the kids took us under their wings: school classroom visits, how to wash our hands, peppering us with questions about America, and giving us more “moimotos” to drink.
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| How to wash your hands!!! |
At last, the school principal collected us and sat us in the VIP section. Flag ceremony (Kiribati and US), prayer, speech (oh yes, I had to give a speech too!) and finally, the parade.
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| Year 5 school room |
Each classroom, each church and community group paraded in front of the War Memorial, laying a tropical-flower-wreath.
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More parades, this time by the older groups who pretended to entertain the GI’s with songs and a bit of ribaldry. This was an emotional day for us. Never had we met with so much respect and gratitude, a deep sense of remembrance, a day of fellowship.
NATATA ISLAND - 03*12.921N, 172*56.978E - 10m, sand. It may lay only 3 mile NW of Kuma village, but Natata might as well sit at the end of the world. Nobody lives there. This may be one of the most beautiful anchorage we’ve experienced, and I’ll leave it at that because there is no word to explain the vibes that emanate from this sanctuary.
Until next time
dominomarie