The Atoll People

These are the people of the Eastern Caroline Islands, a society of celestial navigators and their families. They are the remnants of what was once a great chain of sailing schools that stretched across Oceania from north to south and east to west.

The eastern Caroline Islands are found in Micronesia, north of the equator in the western Pacific Ocean. They stretch across a large expanse of water encompassing two states, Yap and Chuuk, in the Federated Sates of Micronesia. But their landmass is minimal. And the people, numbering perhaps no more than three thousand, have learned to live from and with the sea.

These islanders, called Carolinians, are mostly settled on Pacific atolls, the remnants of volcanoes that have sunk into the sea over hundreds of thousands of years. Their islands are studded with coconut palms, large azure inner lagoons, uninhabited white sandy beaches and white tropic birds floating through a blue sky.

Carolinians are believed to have migrated from Asia and Indonesia, possibly before the time of Christ. Different in build and language from their Polynesian counterparts in the South Pacific and Hawaii, they are the last of the true star navigators.

The people of these islands live an idyllic and precarious existence with nature. Towering coconut trees line tidy paths that meander through tiny villages. Most houses are made of thatch or some part of the coconut palm. A few are now made of tin or concrete. When the wind is right, the island men move canoes adorned with magic talisman from their pitch-roofed shelters across a bed of palm stems out onto the lagoon. Here, sails are hoisted and a great seafaring tradition comes alive.

Life in the islands is a unique existence few get to see.

Even in this closed society, outside influences have affected tradition. On the Island of Ulithi in the west, for instance, the navigational skills have all but vanished. But on tiny Satawal and traditional Ifalik farther east, the skills are still strong and being taught to new generations.

They use large, ocean-going outrigger sailing canoes that are hewn by hand. Taking months to complete, these are finished in lashings of handmade coconut rope and painted red or gold. As many as a dozen men can ride in one of these large canoes.

It isn't easy to become a Master Navigator. This title is held for those who hold the constellations in their heads and sail by the stars without charts or notes. They use the East Star in their traditional navigation, calling it the "big bird in the sky."

These men can also read the waves and tell if land is near. They watch the birds, the clouds and the motion of the swell. Reading these natural signs, they find fishing grounds, garden islands and other inhabited islands. They can travel as far as a thousand miles to another island in this way. A master navigator not only knows these skills but also passes them on to others.

The journey to become a Master Navigator can take 30 years. The culminating ceremony is a magical gathering for men from many of the Caroline islands. New tattoos in the form of dolphins are placed on the navigator's leg. It is believed the dolphins will lead the navigator's canoe safely through the water in life, and in death take the navigator's soul into the sea where he will be at peace in the afterlife.

Perhaps Satawal's most famous navigator is Mau Pialug. When the native Hawaiians realized they had no teachers to pass on navigational skills, Pialug went to Hawaii and revived the art. His journey led to famous Polynesian voyages that took Hawaiians north, south and east. Some 20 years later, they made the final voyage west, sailing to Pialug's home and dropping him off on Satawal before going on to Saipan in the Northern Mariana Islands.

Life on the islands may seem idyllic but it is hard work. Men must fish. And women must tend to the taro patches and the young. On most islands, the highest point is no more than ten feet. If a typhoon washes saltwater into the taro patches, they are ruined for years, destroying the islanders' source of starch. They must then improvise by planting potatoes, tubers and other starch vegetables. While some plants grow very well on the islands, nature can be both generous and harsh.

The women also weave their own skirts, baskets and sleeping mats. These skills are passed down to young girls by the matriarchs, as are dances. Dance is probably the best-developed art form in these islands. When the people get together for a dance, it is a wild and raucous affair. Melodic chants, hand clapping and flailing hips make the performance fun and enchanting. The women learn the dances from an early age and keep this tradition alive and flourishing. Young men learn the male dances from their elders and do the strength work, like making coconut rope and fishing nets, which requires brawn and patience.

As the world gets smaller through technology, the lifestyles of these unique people will change. Already they have solar powered e-mail and generator-run computers. On some islands, the large fishing canoes are being set aside in favor of power boats.

But at Woleai Atoll this year, a celebration of tradition was held as elders vowed to hold dear the ways of the past, even as the future loomed large. Outer Island Day was a celebration of those skills with dances, weaving, coconut husking and many other traditions celebrated in high fashion.

Just a triangle on the horizon, the sun sets as a navigator returns to his home island. This is a special sight, and one few are privileged to see. Serviced only by occasional field ships and selected small plane flights, the Carolinians of these islands are on their own most of the time. There are no hotels here, no fancy resorts. As one of the last traditional societies on earth, the Carolinian people hold strongly to their past as they continue to survive, at one with the sea of the western Pacific.