Travel

Believe it or not, the FSM is a big country. In terms of the area of the globe it occupies, it is almost comparable to the US. That being said, the land area of the FSM is tiny. If you put all of the islands in the FSM together, the land area would still be smaller than Rhode Island. So, in a huge spread out country like the FSM, travel becomes pretty important. Below are four of the most frequently used means of travel in the FSM.

*note to my parents and other concerned parties: the following stories and anecdotes are not meant to scare you. I really do feel safe traveling here, but writing about all of my safe experiences would not make for a very interesting blog post.


Car—The nature of car travel depends greatly on what island you are on. Let’s start with Pohnpei. In Pohnpei, there is a fairly nice paved asphalt road that goes all the way around the island. Unfortunately, the presence of a nice road does not necessarily mean that car travel is…oh what’s the word?...safe. Factors that contribute to unsafeness of car travel in Pohnpei:

• Most of the cars in Pohnpei come from Japan, meaning the steering wheel is on the right. However, the cars still drive on the right side of the road like they do in America. This means that rather than sitting near the middle lane, drivers sit near the edge of the road. I should also mention that while the road is nicely paved, it is not very wide and doesn’t have any lines painted on it. You can probably see where this is going… When going around hairpin turns (of which there are plenty), the driver has pretty much no idea whether or not a car is coming the other way because he or she just cannot see.
• Seatbelts don’t exist. Rather, they do exist but nobody uses them. Furthermore, riding in the back of pickup trucks is very normal. My host family in Pohnpei owned a pickup truck, so I found myself in the back on many occasions. My best (worst?) pickup truck ride was going from Kolonia to Kitti (about a 45 minute drive) sitting in a purple folding chair in the back of the truck holding on for dear life as my host dad careened around the corners. The reason I was sitting on the folding chair and not on the bed of the truck was that there were two severed dog heads rolling around back there and I didn’t really want one to roll into my lap.
• People drink, and I’m not talking about apple juice. The beer of choice in Pohnpei—Milwaukee’s Best. If you’re unfamiliar with Milwaukee’s Best, or “the Beast” as it is affectionately known, it is a beer so far down the beer pecking order that most underage college students won’t touch it. There is also sakau (also known as kava in other parts of the world), which is a semi-narcotic root that is pounded into mush and then drank. It tastes like mud and makes your lips and tongue go numb as if you’d just gotten out of the dentist’s chair. Also, after a couple of cups, you get very lethargic and your reaction time diminishes significantly. While I wouldn’t say that drinking and driving is common, it’s probably best to avoid being on the road as a pedestrian or a driver after dark.

All this being said, I never actually witnessed a car accident in Pohnpei. There is however, evidence of car accidents all over the island. Broken, abandoned cars bespeckle the side of the road like a kind of jalopy graveyard. Sometimes they have been pushed off the road and into a ditch, but sometimes the just sit right where they fired their last piston. In the near constant rain and humidity, these cars turn into veritable ecosystems in their own right, housing all sorts of exotic plants, mosses, and animals.

The driving situation in Chuuk is pretty much the same as in Pohnpei with one major difference: the road. The road is dreadfully bad, with giant potholes everywhere and massive ditches and trenches all over the place due to construction. The only upside to the terrible road is that it is impossible to drive more than about 15 mph, so it’s hard for diving to be too dangerous. That being said, Chuuk is the only place I have actually seen a car accident. A few nights ago, I was sitting at my host family’s house chatting with my host brother when we heard a huge crash. A minute later a guy covered in mud ran through the yard being chased by another guy covered in mud wielding a large rock and screaming Chuukese obscenities. I never did figure out exactly what happened, but I’m pretty sure that the “chasee’s” car crashed into the “chaser’s” and pushed it into a construction trench. Subsequently, they apparently fought in the mud and then took to the streets of Weno. Yea…welcome to Chuuk.

Fiberglass boat—Probably the most common form of transportation in Chuuk, the fiberboat is used for transportation in between islands in the lagoon or between islands in the Mortlocks. These boats are generally between 18 and 24 feet and have a single outboard motor. Some have “seats” of a sort, but most just have a plank of plywood to sit on. A fiberboat ride on a calm day is a very pleasant experience. It’s nice to get out on the water and enjoy the fact that you really are in a spectacularly beautiful island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. On the other hand, a fiberboat ride on a rough day is anything but fun.

On a recent ride from Kuttu back to Satowan, I had without a doubt the worst fiberboat ride I’ve had so far. It’s about an hour boat ride from Kuttu to Satowan, and when we left the skies were clear and it looked like it was going to be a nice day out on the water. Then the clouds started moving in we got hit by a massive storm. It was only my host brother and I in the boat, meaning the boat was light and we got tossed around by the big waves like a couple of Raggedy Anns. I was sitting on my bucket (which, by the way, is the best travel accessory—it’s watertight, it floats, and it’s a seat!) and holding on to the anchor rope trying not to get tossed out of the boat. We were going over 5-7 foot waves and then slamming back down onto the water. If this doesn’t sound so bad, try jumping off a table and landing on your butt. Now, continue to do that about once every 10 seconds or so for 45 minutes. Also, it was pouring rain, which when your traveling in a boat feels like little needles piercing you all over your body. When we finally got back to Satowan, my back was killing me, my hands were rope-burned from hanging on so tightly, and I was completely soaked.

Continental Airlines—Continental is the only airline that services the FSM. As such, it is outrageously expensive to fly to and from the island or even in between the islands. Being a reputable airline, flying on Continental is quite safe. However, landing a 737 on an island with a short runway is not an easy maneuver and looking out the window during the landings is a bit nerve-wracking. Also, this being one of the rainiest places on Earth, the island-hopper flights also have a tendency to be delayed an/or cancelled due to weather.

Caroline Island Airlines—CIA is the official name for the “tin coffin,” the eight-seater twin prop that goes between Weno and the Mortlocks. Going on the plane is actually pretty fun. It’s much nicer than the ship (see below) and, despite the fact that it was built in the ‘70s and looks like it’s made out of tin foil, it’s relatively safe feeling. The pilot is a bit of a flake and has a tenancy to change the schedule whenever he feels like it, but that’s pretty much true with everything in Chuuk. The best way to describe the plane schedule is that you don’t know when it’s going to arrive until it is already there.

The one thing about the plane is that it’s loud. Really loud. In a plane that size, you are not very far away from the engines, and when the pilot turns on the props for the first you think “wow, it’s pretty loud in here.” Then he starts to power them up and you think “damn, it’s really loud in here.” Then he begins to take off and it gets even louder and you stop thinking because you can’t even hear your own thoughts.

Ship—The ships are the other way to get to and from the Mortlocks. To be clear, these are not cushy cruise liners. They are tiny fishing vessels with no cabins, no amenities, and no seats. You sit on the deck, on the cargo hatches, or on the roof—wherever you can find some space. There is a toilet of sorts, but it is unspeakably filthy and should be avoided at all costs. Depending on which ship you’re on, the ride is typically between 19 and 26 hours.

And so you sit and you wait. You sit next to the seasick woman vomiting over the side of the ship. You sit next to the mother breastfeeding her child. You sit next to the pigs and chickens wallowing in their own filth. You sit next to the men smoking countless cigarettes and cutting up the countless fish that they have caught. You sit on the roof and get cut up by the fiberglass hull of the ship. You sit on the railing and come inches from being pushed overboard when a very large lady lurches into you (true story). Reading is out of the question unless you want to join the women throwing up over the side. At night, you do your best to find a spot to lie down but the ship is crowded when everyone is sitting, so you can imagine the mass of bodies when everyone tries to lie down…generally sleep does not really happen.

My longest ship ride was 4 days. Due to ship schedules, I had to make a tour around all the islands in Morlocks before making the trek in. That’s right, 4 days of that all that ^. Not a fun experience, but definitely a good story.