Palmerston Island
The morning broke into a muted canvas brush-stroked in shades of light gray and baby blue. In the western distance light moisture cast thin, curved, lead-colored veils. A few red-footed boobies and black noddies escorted the National Geographic Endeavour towards our morning port of call, Palmerston Atoll. Its principle island, one of six encircling the lagoon and home to the descendants of William Marsters, loomed in the distance – a coconut palm-covered, verdant slab of South Pacific paradise.
The atoll’s reef is almost perpetually awash in threatening breakers. This morning, as our vessel neared the outer reef’s eastern edge, it was clear that the coralline barrier was practically overwhelmed by sizeable swells. A virtual halo of white, turbulent froth ringed the lagoon’s biologically-cast, defining barrier. To the southeast of Palmerston Island, some eight cables from shore lay the only passage through the reef, a rough-hewn narrows that, on approach, dog-legged to the left before fanning wide into the lagoon’s turquoise interior. On slow approach EL Tim Soper went forth in a Zodiac to scout the entrance. His report was optimistic but tempered with caution. All Zodiacs would require local pilots to insure pinpoint navigational execution through the slot. All boats made it through, none the worse for wear, though the ride was stimulating to be sure.
Landing on the idyllic, sandy shores of Palmerston, all guests were greeted with smiles and songs by a contingent of the local population. The welcome was enthusiastic and heartfelt. It immediately imbued in all of us a special sense of place, distilled from a remarkable and isolated chapter in the history of South Pacific settlement. Palmerston Atoll is now home to fifty-one souls, the majority descended from William Marsters, a British ship’s carpenter and cooper who came to the island with his wife and sister in 1862. Marsters eventually fathered children with both of these women and a third who arrived sometime later. When he died in 1899 his progeny totaled sixty children and grandchildren.
The Palmerstonians are deeply religious. That fact, coupled with our arrival on a Sunday, led to our being invited to a special church service. All staff and guests filed reverently into Palmerston Island’s most prominent and well-kept structure, an immaculately-clean, single-room, concrete-constructed house of worship. The service was deeply sincere, and augmented with the Palmerstonians unforgettable signature singing.
Following our exit from the church, we fanned out into small groups to explore the island on foot. The island’s residents rely on two ancient and immutable mainstays for survival, the sea and the coconut palm. There is not a soul on the island who can’t husk a coconut in the time it would take any one of us to tie a shoe. Protein from the sea is supplemented with domestic pigs and chickens. An infrequent supply ship brings goods unavailable through any other means. Though primarily reliant on subsistence living, the islanders are not without modern amenities. Televisions, satellite phones, and modern machines of labor raise their standard of living and ease their daily tasks. A tour highlight was the local school. Here, with even a few of the young students as personal guides, we were privy to their daily studies. Pride shown wide as the grin of the Cheshire cat upon the faces of the school children as they showed us their little work stations, and explained, in the gap-toothed, impish and innocent expressions of the young, the business end of their learning. Upon departure the island’s residents bid us fond farewells, accented with bright smiles and long-armed waves, which persisted until the details of their shoreline fell from sight.
During a BBQ lunch on deck, the National Geographic Endeavour repositioned to the atoll’s western lee side. Some two cables off the reef’s outer edge, our vessel’s uniquely-constructed snorkel platform was dispatched and anchored on a prime patch of seaward, coralline reef. From this comfortable and efficiently-engineered launch site, we dove beneath the waves for an encounter with tropical life in an undisturbed liquid, azure realm. Schooling barracuda and jacks, colorful reef fish, and even a few black-tip reef sharks swam in the shallows. But it was the abundance and nearly-complete coverage of vibrant living corals which colored our vision and memories. It was one of the healthiest representations of one of the greatest living communities on Earth yet seen on our voyage.
The morning broke into a muted canvas brush-stroked in shades of light gray and baby blue. In the western distance light moisture cast thin, curved, lead-colored veils. A few red-footed boobies and black noddies escorted the National Geographic Endeavour towards our morning port of call, Palmerston Atoll. Its principle island, one of six encircling the lagoon and home to the descendants of William Marsters, loomed in the distance – a coconut palm-covered, verdant slab of South Pacific paradise.
The atoll’s reef is almost perpetually awash in threatening breakers. This morning, as our vessel neared the outer reef’s eastern edge, it was clear that the coralline barrier was practically overwhelmed by sizeable swells. A virtual halo of white, turbulent froth ringed the lagoon’s biologically-cast, defining barrier. To the southeast of Palmerston Island, some eight cables from shore lay the only passage through the reef, a rough-hewn narrows that, on approach, dog-legged to the left before fanning wide into the lagoon’s turquoise interior. On slow approach EL Tim Soper went forth in a Zodiac to scout the entrance. His report was optimistic but tempered with caution. All Zodiacs would require local pilots to insure pinpoint navigational execution through the slot. All boats made it through, none the worse for wear, though the ride was stimulating to be sure.
Landing on the idyllic, sandy shores of Palmerston, all guests were greeted with smiles and songs by a contingent of the local population. The welcome was enthusiastic and heartfelt. It immediately imbued in all of us a special sense of place, distilled from a remarkable and isolated chapter in the history of South Pacific settlement. Palmerston Atoll is now home to fifty-one souls, the majority descended from William Marsters, a British ship’s carpenter and cooper who came to the island with his wife and sister in 1862. Marsters eventually fathered children with both of these women and a third who arrived sometime later. When he died in 1899 his progeny totaled sixty children and grandchildren.
The Palmerstonians are deeply religious. That fact, coupled with our arrival on a Sunday, led to our being invited to a special church service. All staff and guests filed reverently into Palmerston Island’s most prominent and well-kept structure, an immaculately-clean, single-room, concrete-constructed house of worship. The service was deeply sincere, and augmented with the Palmerstonians unforgettable signature singing.
Following our exit from the church, we fanned out into small groups to explore the island on foot. The island’s residents rely on two ancient and immutable mainstays for survival, the sea and the coconut palm. There is not a soul on the island who can’t husk a coconut in the time it would take any one of us to tie a shoe. Protein from the sea is supplemented with domestic pigs and chickens. An infrequent supply ship brings goods unavailable through any other means. Though primarily reliant on subsistence living, the islanders are not without modern amenities. Televisions, satellite phones, and modern machines of labor raise their standard of living and ease their daily tasks. A tour highlight was the local school. Here, with even a few of the young students as personal guides, we were privy to their daily studies. Pride shown wide as the grin of the Cheshire cat upon the faces of the school children as they showed us their little work stations, and explained, in the gap-toothed, impish and innocent expressions of the young, the business end of their learning. Upon departure the island’s residents bid us fond farewells, accented with bright smiles and long-armed waves, which persisted until the details of their shoreline fell from sight.
During a BBQ lunch on deck, the National Geographic Endeavour repositioned to the atoll’s western lee side. Some two cables off the reef’s outer edge, our vessel’s uniquely-constructed snorkel platform was dispatched and anchored on a prime patch of seaward, coralline reef. From this comfortable and efficiently-engineered launch site, we dove beneath the waves for an encounter with tropical life in an undisturbed liquid, azure realm. Schooling barracuda and jacks, colorful reef fish, and even a few black-tip reef sharks swam in the shallows. But it was the abundance and nearly-complete coverage of vibrant living corals which colored our vision and memories. It was one of the healthiest representations of one of the greatest living communities on Earth yet seen on our voyage.
