A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity – Karoline Atoll, Kiribati

Caroline Atoll. Kiribati

Caroline Atoll is the absolute highlight and major destination for my 2019 Pacific Catamaran Expedition.

The atolls are located about 837 km north of Tahiti, but 24 hours ahead of schedule. So if it's a Monday on Tahiti, It's already Tuesday on Caroline Island – technically, the people on this atoll are lined up in time for the rest of the planet. There were only two participants on the cruise: my talented Polynesian captain Teahui and myself, the crazy guy who came up with the idea of contacting Tahitian catamaran charter company Poe Charters to go to this remote atolls in 2018. None of the company's captains had ever been to Caroline Atoll, so when the project came along, all the captains were scrambling to get on the job. No wonder the job is given to the best, the craziest, the boldest captain. The tea party said it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him!

Our trip started in Tahiti. We haven't even left the outskirts of Papeete Harbour yet – we've seen playful dolphins on the bow of the catamaran (the boat's name is Poe Reva).

After a few hours of sailing downwind, we arrived at Tetiaroa, Marlon Brando's private island. You may have seen my tour of this beautiful royal island on AirPano. I spent a few hours flying over the lagoon of Tetiaroa and then we headed straight in the direction of Caroline Atoll.

As we passed in front of brando Resort, to the west of the island, the horizon was illuminated by the orange of the setting sun and the ocean was relatively calm.

Night strikes suddenly, as is often the case in the tropics, and without the moon, within minutes you'll be plunged into pitch black. At night, we quickly realized that the wind was not strong enough for us to provide enough power to reach Caroline Atoll just by sailing. Our speed dropped dramatically. So we decided to change the route the next morning and we headed to the Awatolu Pass at Langi Roa Atoll. Teahui skillfully steers catamarans in the crazy waters of the passage (subject to great waves, whirlpools and turbulence at high and low tides). In Awatoru we stopped the catamaran and I took a taxi to buy all the available cans on the island. It's nice to see the island again as I stayed here for a week two years ago. Just for the extra fuel we needed, I spent more than 600 euros on plastic cans. We also added tanks and "bidons" (as they are called in French). I took a few panoramas of the Awatoru Pass, and then we continued towards Caroline Atoll.

During the long high sea crossing, we had to be on guard at night – each of us did it for 3 hours and then we changed it. Imagine being woken up at 1 a.m., going to deck, and checking the horizon every 20 minutes for the presence of other vessels or impending weather events. I also had to check the autopilot's navigation parameters to make sure our course was still correct. We have never encountered any other vessels. On our 18-day, 2,400-kilometer expedition, there was not a single person. The Ghost Part of the Pacific! At night, you have to be on high alert on deck: if you fall into the sea, your life is over. Because of the noise of the engine, the tea party would never hear my screams, and in the dark, it was difficult to find my place in the waves. The game is over! Therefore, we have a strict rule that we don't drink alcohol at all. We also have to check the weather. Rain clouds usually mean two things: either stop the wind completely, or suddenly have a strong wind, so in this case we have to lower the sails to avoid the possibility of damage.

One night, at about 10 o'clock, we sat on the top of the catamaran and talked, and almost at the same moment we both realized that something was fooling our senses: I had been looking at the eastern horizon. It was a clean night, with only a few clouds, and the moon was already on the horizon, hovering among the clouds like an ancient painting. Then it seemed to me that the moon—like a solid ball—was jumping up and down and shaking sideways. This can't be the shimmer of the atmosphere, because the moon's image is clear and clear, and its periphery is neat and sharp. It moves as a whole, as a separate block. Then I tried to fix one of the nearby clouds with my eyes as a reference: it was obvious to me that the apparent distance between the moon and the cloud was changing wildly. As I pondered it, we both asked the same question almost at the same time, after observing for a long time: What the hell is wrong with the moon??? My hypothesis is that this is a new type of optical illusion produced by our brains. Since we sit on top of a shaky container, our brains try to stabilize the images in our heads, which can lead to this strange phenomenon (I've only found it once on the internet).

At a cruising speed of about 6 knots (about 12 km/h), it took us about 50 hours to reach Caroline Atoll. How excited we were when we first saw that long, narrow stretch of land in the South Island! Countless seabirds have declared the existence of an island that hunts outside every day. They were very curious and were already 40 km from the atoll very close to us. They were mesmerized by our bait, which was 30 metres behind us (we never caught any fish on our journey!). ）。

The timing of our arrival was excellent: it was still before noon, so we carried the sun on our backs. This is crucial if you want to try to enter the blind lanes of Caroline Atoll. There's a reason it's called "blind." It does not actually lead to the lagoon, but to a sandbar on the South Island. Since Poe Charter had never been here before, I did some research myself before the trip. I've read Ron Falconer's book: Alone, which describes the years he spent here with his wife and two children. He also gave tips on how to get into the blind alley. I also managed to find him on Facebook, so we had a lot of conversations before we traveled.

When we reached the blind lane, our GPS showed it right in front of us, but there were waves tumbling and shattering everywhere and it was hard to see it. We were really surprised to see how narrow it was. Is this really a blind alley? That's it?! The usable section may be 16 meters wide! The first thing you see is some shipwrecks at the entrance – this is Caroline's welcome sign! :) We also know that this passage has some rusty iron bars sticking out from underwater. These are the remains of some of the remains of some of the remains of fishing cages from about 20 years ago.

I would only dare to report this matter to the tea party two days before we arrived. I told him, "I think you should read this." I was nervous to see him reading it because I knew it made him uneasy. My plan was for me to be on standby in the sea with the catamaran, while the tea party took the dirty (we also called it the zodiac) to check the passage and see the iron railings. However, our stress and pressure was so great that he entered as soon as he arrived.

I had everything important ready, ready to evacuate in case something hit the hull, and we started sinking. Tea Exchange made a wonderful entry move. He called it a suicide: No seasoned captain would risk flying such a large catamaran into the cabin. It was so risky! Upon reaching the Strait Canyon, the catamaran had to turn to avoid the coral walls of this passage. When we stop and put down three (!) Anchor, the Welcome Committee has arrived. Plenty of sharks! Not the kind of person with a good temperament, because it is remote, even the blackheads are very fierce, and they are not used to seeing people at all. While inspecting one of the anchors, the tea party had to kick a grey shark away with its fins. He is a native of Tahiti, a Polynesian, who grew up with sharks and rides waves up to 5 meters high, but the sharks here also make him uneasy. It's better not to risk being away from civilization! Being in such a remote place gives a special feeling: it's great to see a beautiful place that's barely affected, but the farther away you are from humans, the more nervous you become. You'll realize even more how small we are, especially in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the most expansive ocean on Earth! In fact, our planet should be called water rather than Earth because more than two-thirds of it is covered in water. Especially in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the most expansive ocean on Earth! In fact, our planet should be called water rather than Earth because more than two-thirds of it is covered in water. Especially in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the most expansive ocean on Earth! In fact, our planet should be called water rather than Earth because more than two-thirds of it is covered in water.

Once safely anchored (at least that's what we assumed), we had lunch and immediately began aerial photography work. If you look at these panoramas, you will find that the lagoon looks like a maze. At some point, the water is shallow and even our plasticine (the draught in the water is close to zero) can't pass through. Somewhere, we had to get off the boat and push the boat to walk – beware of sharks, because when you wade in shallow water, they will think that the splash on your feet is caused by troublesome fish, which means lunchtime for them. Sometimes, if they get too close, we have to jump on the boat.

Usually we are not afraid of these types of sharks, I often swim and dive with them in other parts of Polynesia or in the Raja Ampathanpa Islands of West Papua: blacktip sharks, lemon sharks (quite large), reef sharks, whitetip sharks (but certainly not marine whitetip sharks, it is one of the most aggressive shark species). But Caroline is a crazy, wild place about sharks. Your only chance to snorkel here is to immerse yourself in the water, so sharks can actually see you and measure your size. If they get too close, you kick them. Sharks are still demonized in the media and people are very afraid of them. To me, sharks are like dogs: most shark breeds are not dangerous to humans, but there are some breeds with a natural tendency to be overly aggressive,

In the evening we went to Motu Ana-Ana (motu means island in Polynesian) to see the remains of a small settlement built by the Falcons. I can still see the oven with the built-in bottle. I wanted to take a land panorama there, but then I was attacked by a swarm of ants. So I gave up on this plan!

Back on the catamaran, I called my parents in Hungary from the ship's satellite phone and woke them up at 5:30 a.m. Later in the evening, the tea party and I were discussing things the next day. We would get up early. The tea party recommends first going to the northernmost part of the atoll, where the panorama begins, then gradually descending back to the south. I had a very detailed flight plan for my two drones and we planned to stay in Caroline for 6 days. Instead, I recommend that we spend our first day in the middle of the atoll because this is the most exquisite and beautiful part of the island and I want to make sure I get the most beautiful panorama as soon as possible. After all, you don't know what to expect, maybe bad weather or some other problem. Who knows?

After getting up early, we had breakfast, and it was already 6:20 a.m. when the sun was coming at us with great force. We wore only long-sleeved clothes in all white. We also used a colored sunscreen on the cheeks and under the eyes, which physically covers the skin, thus protecting it from the scorching sun. We started our riptide ghirlwind at the lagoon because the tea party had to learn the twists and turns and discover the secrets of this lagoon. We really liked the maneuvers – we also burned a lot of fuel because it was difficult to get around. Let us not forget that our boats are made of rubber, while the atolls are made of sharp corals. I leave it to you to make the connection! :) It's an incredible place: while the vegetation can be quite lush, usually it's made up of shrubs with little shade! So I had to squat like a rat under some bushes that didn't relieve sunlight very well and had a hard time seeing what was going on the screen while flying the drone. At least I experienced bird life on these motus. The atoll is home to at least one and a half million birds. Some chickens wait all day in the scorching sun while their parents fish in the sea. They are also docile and can be very close. By the end of the day, I had taken 36 panoramas, including the ones I had taken the day before, so I was really satisfied. When we got back to the catamaran, we really wish the catamaran was still there, not rushing into the open seas. At least I experienced bird life on these motus. The atoll is home to at least one and a half million birds. Some chickens wait all day in the scorching sun while their parents fish in the sea. They are also docile and can be very close. By the end of the day, I had taken 36 panoramas, including the ones I had taken the day before, so I was really satisfied. When we got back to the catamaran, we really wish the catamaran was still there, not rushing into the open seas. At least I experienced bird life on these motus. The atoll is home to at least one and a half million birds. Some chickens wait all day in the scorching sun while their parents fish in the sea. They are also docile and can be very close. By the end of the day, I had taken 36 panoramas, including the ones I had taken the day before, so I was really satisfied. When we got back to the catamaran, we really wish the catamaran was still there, not rushing into the open seas. Included I took it the day before, so I was really satisfied. When we got back to the catamaran, we really wish the catamaran was still there, not rushing into the open seas. Included I took it the day before, so I was really satisfied. When we got back to the catamaran, we really wish the catamaran was still there, not rushing into the open seas.

We breathed a sigh of relief to find it neatly tucked into the blind alley. Teahui caught a fish from the lagoon in the blind lane (the shark was slow and we managed to keep it for us!). Cooking in our car oven. We were expecting a delicious meal, but then we saw the fish start to bubble. Well, that's not a good sign, so we decided not to eat it. It may have a snow card. Sheikha poisoning (CFP) is a foodborne illness caused by eating reef fish whose flesh is contaminated with certain toxins. So after all, sharks still eat with our fish.

We had light evening conversations, and each of us went to read some books before going to bed. Being able to sleep on a more or less stable boat is pleasant because now we are well protected and not in the open ocean. Well, our peace did not last.

Around 2 p.m., I was woken up by some terrible sounds: metal scraping metal, scraping sound. This sounds very, very dangerous. Of course, I knew right away what that meant: our anchors were drifting, our positions were unstable. The leftovers in the cages, the iron railings in the water, helped us at first because there was an anchor stuck in it, but after a day and a half they couldn't bear our weight, even the other two anchors. I went up, but I couldn't see anything, there was no moon, it was dark. I don't see the tea party. It turned out later that we were on deck at different times to check the situation. But since nothing could be done in the pitch-black environment, we had to wait for it to end. At one point, I also heard a terrible sound consistent with the scraping of plastic on the rocks — which meant that our catamaran also touched the sides of the strait, where the water was only half a meter deep at low tide. At first glance, we assessed the situation, the tea party tried to stabilize the anchorage of the ship. Unfortunately, the water flow did not allow this, and in the process of trying, we also lost an anchor and rope. So in the end we decided that, instead of sinking our catamaran, we should evacuate now. Just 2 nights later! But I wasn't too upset – I've taken the prettiest panoramic photos I've ever taken, and I've covered key locations at the atoll. At first glance, we assessed the situation, the tea party tried to stabilize the anchorage of the ship. Unfortunately, the water flow did not allow this, and in the process of trying, we also lost an anchor and rope. So in the end we decided that, instead of sinking our catamaran, we should evacuate now. Just 2 nights later! But I wasn't too upset – I've taken the prettiest panoramic photos I've ever taken, and I've covered key locations at the atoll. At first glance, we assessed the situation, the tea party tried to stabilize the anchorage of the ship. Unfortunately, the water flow did not allow this, and in the process of trying, we also lost an anchor and rope. So in the end we decided that, instead of sinking our catamaran, we should evacuate now. Just 2 nights later! But I wasn't too upset – I've taken the prettiest panoramic photos I've ever taken, and I've covered key locations at the atoll.

Safety above all else! But I'm not one to give up easily: we immediately decided to go back to Caroline (or Caroline of the island as the tea party happily called). In any case, we need to retrieve the lost anchor, we know exactly where it is, just at a depth of 4-5 meters. But on the next trip, we'll be three people on board: there will be more crew, so there will always be someone left on the catamaran to take full control and supervise our floating home. If the waves do not allow access to the blind lanes, the catamaran can still be on standby in the sea, constantly sailing up and down. You must understand that anchoring a vessel outside the atoll is impossible: the reef suddenly sinks to a huge depth (in most of our adventures, the depth of the ocean is 4.5 kilometers!). ）。 If you approach the relatively shallow side of the atoll and drop anchor, you will be too close to the shoreline where the waves break. You don't want to lose your anchor and end up tumbling and breaking on the reef – just like Marlon Brando did to his fisherman when he first crashed into his beloved Tetiaroa Atoll. Our next trip will take place in April/May 2021, the dates have been set and we will of course visit Caroline, as well as many other atolls in the Tuamotu Islands!

Leaving the blind alley is just as challenging as entering it. The turbulence was large, the waves were so large that at one of the troughs we almost hit a coral head on the side of the passage, and we were about 40 centimeters away from it. Nice, we were wearing brown pants (just kidding)!

After Caroline, we suddenly found ourselves with a lot of extra time, so this allowed for some spontaneous island visits. I decided we'd go to Tick howe first. One of the most interesting moments was when our zodiac was swept away by the waves and we noticed it was late and we were stranded on a small island without boats, moored in a lagoon far away from us. It was then that I saw the tea party run the fastest and swim the fastest, at olympic speed. But we got back to our boat, otherwise we would have asked the fisherman for help. After Tikehau, we took a boat back to Rangiroa, and then we went to the Blue Lagoon, where I conducted a fairly extensive aerial and land panorama survey of this magnificent Garden of Eden. I, Adam, first and foremost by his name, are absolutely in favor of this heaven. Inside the huge lagoon of Rangiroa (74 km long!!! We have some huge expansion (rhythmic waves) so leaving the catamaran with zodiac signs, boarding and disembarking is an added challenge, but tea fair can at least enjoy our zodiac rubber boat surfing. It was so much fun! After Langiola, we went to Matawa Atoll. We set the engine speed to match the rhythm of the waves from the east, so it was the best cradle experience we had on a catamaran. One of the best nights! The next day, I visited Mataviva Atoll, where the locals welcomed me and I received a set of luxurious necklaces made of shells. (I was very impressed with Mataiva, which will be the first stop on my 2021 expedition.) But at least the tea party can enjoy our zodiac rubber boat surfing. It was so much fun! After Langiola, we went to Matawa Atoll. We set the engine speed to match the rhythm of the waves from the east, so it was the best cradle experience we had on a catamaran. One of the best nights! The next day, I visited Mataviva Atoll, where the locals welcomed me and I received a set of luxurious necklaces made of shells. (I was very impressed with Mataiva, which will be the first stop on my 2021 expedition.) But at least the tea party can enjoy our zodiac rubber boat surfing. It was so much fun! After Langiola, we went to Matawa Atoll. We set the engine speed to match the rhythm of the waves from the east, so it was the best cradle experience we had on a catamaran. One of the best nights! The next day, I visited Mataviva Atoll, where the locals welcomed me and I received a set of luxurious necklaces made of shells. (I was very impressed with Mataiva, which will be the first stop on my 2021 expedition.) The next day, I visited Mataviva Atoll, where the locals welcomed me warmly and I received a set of luxurious necklaces made of shells. (I was very impressed with Mataiva, which will be the first stop on my 2021 expedition.) The next day, I visited Mataviva Atoll, where the locals welcomed me warmly and I received a set of luxurious necklaces made of shells. (I was very impressed with Mataiva, which will be the first stop on my 2021 expedition.) ）

By the afternoon, trouble was imminent, and huge dark clouds rose from the east. When I returned to the catamaran, the waves were already 2-3 meters high. Putting the drone (and myself) back into the catamaran in the waves and rain was already a nice challenge. At this point we were still on the west side of Matawa, relatively shielded from the end of the world lurking around the corner. The big wave quickly became huge, with waves of 4-5 meters, but the wavelength was good, and the period of the wave was quite long. We are now on our way to Makatea, but as we left mataiva's protected continent, darkness fell upon us and everything fell apart. Extremely short wave cycles, 4-5 meters from the southeast, oncoming, 70 km/h wind, rain and darkness. It took us 9 hours to reach Makatea, but the strength we exposed was amazing. According to Lord Teahui, he wept in this situation. Well, at least I found myself not, and under this pressure I remained stoic and calm (when the pressure came out of me, I was already on land in Tahiti and I realized what we had gone through).

Of course we are afraid, and one has to be very stupid to not be afraid. The period of 5 meter wave is only a few seconds. Since the catamaran is only about 12 meters, when we reach the top of the 5 meters, the hull flips over the top of the mountain like a seesaw, and the propellers that are usually submerged in the water have come out of the water, and you can hear them suffocating. Then you turn sharply downward, free fall, hit the trough with all your might, then rise again to the crest of the wave, and then start the cycle again. 9 hours uninterrupted! Later we found that in French Polynesia, all boats were safely sheltered in protected lagoons, and basically few boats sailed on the high seas. Only crazy people. Like us. These weather conditions are exactly the same as those in Tahiti s Teahupo has produced one of the biggest inflations of the past decade. But let's stop here with the story of my journey and turn our attention to Caroline.

After my own words, I would like to introduce you to Caroline Atoll in a more formal way. To that end, I will quote a passage from the Caroline Atoll study, written by Angela K. Kepler and Cameron B. Kepler.

Caroline Atoll, also known as Millennium Island and Besissa Island, is the southeasternmost of the Southern Line Archipelago and consists of 3 islands, which also include Vostok and Flint. Although archaeologically and geographically located in Polynesia, Caroline is owned by the Republic of Kiribati (correct pronunciation: kɪrɪˈbæs), formerly known as the Gilbert Islands. Caroline Atoll is not physically, geographically or politically linked to the Caroline Islands, which are now part of the Federated States of Micronesia and are located more than 6,000 kilometers northwest. According to the path of the International Date Line, Caroline Island is the easternmost land point on Earth.

Caroline Island is thought to have originated from a volcanic hot spot that was eroded and then became home to coral reefs that grow above the surface of the sea.

Caroline is 9.7 km long and 2.3 km wide at its widest point, a crescent-shaped coral ring of 39 small islands (motus), centered on a continuous reef that surrounds a relatively shallow lagoon. The enclosed lagoon is rich in marine life, with a maze of patchy coral reefs and impeccable crystal clear waters.

The atoll was "discovered" by De Kiros in 1606. It has been uninhabited since the early 1930s (a factor in its relatively undisturbed ecology), except for the presence of Ron Falconer's family from 1987 to 1991. Over the past decade, a lone French sailor, Lyderic, has set up camp on the coast of Motu Ana-Ana but was deported and imprisoned by the Kiribati government for years of unlawful presence.

Centuries before Europeans met Caroline, the atoll was inhabited by Polynesians. In the 1870s, 50 ancient Polynesian sites were unearthed, which were later identified as Tuamotuan marae (a public shrine). Despite its remoteness, Caroline encountered it early in Pacific history, much earlier than Tahiti, Rarotonga and Hawaii.

Since Caroline Island is only six meters above sea level, it would be at risk if sea level rises. The Government of Kiribati estimates that the island could be reclaimed by the sea as early as 2025, and the United Nations has listed Karoline Island as one of the most dangerous islands for sea level rise.

Caroline Island is one of the most remote islands on Earth – 230 km from the nearest land area of Flint Island, 1,500 km (930 miles) from Kiriti Mati, 4,200 km from Tarava, the capital of Kiribati, and 5,100 km from the nearest mainland of North America.

Caroline Island is an important breeding ground for many seabird species, most notably the approximately 500,000 black terns – the dominant flock of black terns on the small eastern islands – and the more than 10,000 frigate birds. Caroline Island and its neighboring Island of Flint are also home to some of the world's largest coconut crab populations. Other native animals include the abundant potweed in the central lagoon, hermit crabs and a variety of lizards.

Photos and text from Ádám Plézer

Caroline Atoll - Ron Falconer and family

I was associated with this incredible collection of Caroline photographs because photographer Ádám Plézer discovered that our small family settled on this remote island in the late 1980s during his research and preparation for the expedition. He needs information about the weather, the "blind alley" and the necessary permits to visit the atolls.

I appreciated his project and maintained a strong affection for Caroline Atoll, so answered all his questions. This qualified me to be one of the first to receive photos of these completed projects and invited me to share our life experiences on the atoll.

After opening the photo, I was amazed at the color, texture and detail, it was really impressive. This was once our island, now laid out in a way that has never been done before using modern drone technology and advanced cameras.

I quickly found the dangerous blind track, where we risked everything to find a safe place for our sailing ship "Fleur d'Ecosse" and to enable the whole adventure to live on the atoll. The nervousness and adrenaline rush into the gate is now calming memories, but these clear photos bring back the old feelings that were so real and horrible at the time, coupled with the urge to shout "yippee" as soon as we safely pass through the entrance into the calm passage. It still brings me a smile.

In these photos, the atoll looks like a familiar piece of jewelry. We combed through these stunning bleached beaches, looking for building materials, fishing in the turquoise lagoon waters as our daily food, while being super alert to the many sharks that lurk and often attack. As a result, we often struggled to drive our aluminium dinghies through the lagoon with beautiful decorative motifs that now appear as living carol heads.

Ana-Ana was the motu we chose because of its manageable size and relatively mosquito-free, and now looks charming, peaceful and inviting. Here, we sweated out the bushes before building the framed bedroom huts and cookware, and then woven coconut leaves to cover the frames. It's also the coop for our four laying hens and, of course, their roosters.

Little rats attack our chopped coconut hen food every day, building their nests on our roofs without permission. Cockroaches come at night to eat leftovers. Under the enchanting tree cover, we painstakingly dug holes filled with compost and planted papayas, bananas, pumpkins, tomatoes and beans.

Along these romanticized photos, I remembered our productive and important fishing vessels, our important voyage through the lagoon to collect humus to maintain garden compost. We sailed leisurely with two small children and dogs, along the full length of the lagoon, having to constantly look for small passages through the coral maze while dragging a fishing line to catch a jack and then having a barbecue inside for lunch to burn ash. During these expeditions, we brought back glass fishing buoys, important driftwood, and occasionally thousands of eggs from migrating terns.

The photos don't show frigates constantly soaring, caught from the sea, long-tailed tropical birds, and pure white, attentive fairy terns. You also don't see hermit crabs, coconut crabs, but thankfully you don't see hungry mosquitoes or biting ants. A positive value in the virtual world.

Settling in Caroline was a gradual process for me: the first step was to leave Scotland and travel the world to discover the Pacific islands. As I was a bit wandering, the islands suited my personality perfectly. They are quiet, warm, free anchor, stable trade winds, abundant fishing activities and friendly, welcoming Polynesian locals... It's all just right. So much so that we lived for four years in a small village in Polynesia, in the Ahe Atoll of the Tuamotu Islands, where our two children were born. The wanderlust is still there, and I now want to move myself to an island, a new challenge, an adventure, a next... I still want to know!

Caroline looked perfect, 10 degrees south of the equator, more or less free of cyclones, frequent showers, and overgrown coconut trees. The lease for the atoll was held by an old sailing captain who often sailed from Tahiti to Hawaii, passing through the island. After some persuasion, he allowed us to become Caroline's caretakers.

Our boat was full of shops, dragging our aluminum sailboats, and we set sail 350 miles north to Caroline Atoll. Before finding the right sea conditions and courage to try to enter the dangerous blind alley, it took another three days to circumnavigate the island.

What we found was a truly pristine atoll that had not been touched by any humans for many years. Nature rules here, and everyday life is determined by its interactions with many creatures. We humbly and hesitantly prepare to take our place in this community's activity. We are determined to quietly integrate, forming our own private corners, minimizing disruption to existing occupants, respecting what is present, and grateful for the opportunity to observe the daily rhythms of nature in such a pure environment.

Our own routines slowly developed, cleaning up our houses and gardens, daily fishing expeditions, initially using handlines on dinghies, and then eventually building a fish cage. Coconuts must be collected for the hens and oil produced for our kitchens. Brown ripe coconut leaves must be collected and then carefully woven into a roof covering. Our charcuterie plus bread or coconut biscuits must be lit three times a day, all made over a fire in a base metal oven. Take care of garden plants and sow new seeds.

Children entertain themselves with their swings, building huts or participating in daily chores. They soon learned to swim and use masks, opening up a whole new underwater world. We went on many expeditions and explored almost all of Caroline's many motus, which are clearly shown in these photos.

All in all, it was a fascinating and fulfilling experience.

After four happy years, we became the victim of a Tahitian businessman who got a temporary lease to illegally kill green sea turtles and exploit all the fish, coconut crabs and everything with commercial potential on the island. Anyone who spies on all his illegal businesses is a threat, so he uses his connections and blatant lies to influence the Government of Kiribati to deport us.

Years later, I wrote a book about many of our experiences called "Together Alone", published by Random House Australia, which can also be found on Amazon as an e-book.