ATOMIC Bikini (part I)

(Underwater Baker Test, Bikini, 1946)

Most lovers of women would today agree that the bikini is a fantastic invention. But it wasn’t always that way. When Frenchman Louis Reard first created the scanty two-piece bathing suit in 1946, no French models would wear it on the runway. It was a prudish period in both Europe and North America. In deciding what to name it, Reard knew that he needed something big. He needed to overcome the scandal by associating the new bathing suit with something grand. There happened to be a story making headlines at the same time about a place called Bikini…

Operation Crossroads

Thousands of miles away, in the lagoon of a remote atoll, half of the entire world supply of film was being used to record the first two of sixty-seven nuclear tests. A war of words was raging between the U.S. Army and Navy. WW2 had just ended and the Army was claiming that the Navy was now redundant. Why spend billions of dollars on a huge fleet of ships when a few Army bombers could deliver a payload to make any world leader quake in his boots? The admiral in charge of the navy, afraid that his boats would be stuffed with mothballs, set out to prove that nuclear detonations would have a more limited effect against ships at sea and therefore the U.S. needed its ships to fight other navies.

So it was that Operation Crossroads was born, a project to study the effects of nuclear explosions on land and underwater. The site chosen was as remote and sparsely populated at it gets, the Bikini and Enewetak atolls of the Marshall Islands.

Over the course of 12 years, 67 nukes were detonated.

For the Good of Mankind

167 people lived on Bikini atoll in 1946, so the military needed to convince them to relocate, temporarily, so that the military could conduct scientific tests “for the good of mankind and to end all world wars”. It was done with cunning, since the meeting between Commodore Wyatt and the Bikinians was held on Sunday afternoon, shortly after Church. The Commodore perversely appealed to their morality. It worked. King Juda of Bikini and his people agreed to be relocated, temporarily, so that the Americans could conduct their tests. Shortly thereafter, the people of Enewetak also agreed to be relocated.

Bravo

March 1, 1954, a hydrogen bomb code-named Bravo, was detonated on the surface of the reef in the northwestern corner of Bikini Atoll. It was the 12^th test conducted in the Marshall Islands. Bravo exploded with 1,000 times the force of the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

However, the winds were moving eastward, placing Rongelap atoll, about 125 miles away, within the fallout zone.

“The Rongelapese, not understanding what was happening, watched as two suns rose that morning, observed with amazement as the radioactive dust soon formed a layer on their island two inches deep, turning the drinking water a brackish yellow. Children played in the fallout; their mothers watched in horror as night came and they began to show the physical signs of exposure. The people experienced severe vomiting and diarrhea, their hair began to fall out, the island fell into a state of terrified panic. The people had received no explanations or warnings whatsoever from the United States government.”
-Jack Niedenthal, “For the Good of Mankind”

The demon of Rongerik

Back to the people of Bikini: Relocated to Rongerik atoll, the Bikinians faced extreme hardships, particularly starvation. It was said that a demon had died there and its body had been dumped into the ocean. Indeed, even though the same species of fish inhabit Rongerik as Bikini, they are largely poisonous due to what they eat. The people of Bikini attributed the poison to the demon’s decomposition, which had polluted the waters of the atoll. Coconuts were less plentiful because Rongerik is much smaller than Bikini, challenging the Bikinians to sustain themselves.

In Part II, a few blog entries in the future, I will relate the second relocation to Killi island and the trials that modern-day Bikinians face as refugees in their own country.

Links:

www.bikiniatoll.com

http://www.atomicforum.org/

Chillin' Marshallese Style

A girl achieves serious arc while her sisters look on below. I'm at Laura Beach, located at the wide edge of Majuro island. At the end of the longest road in Micronesia, which is 30 miles long and traverses the entirety of Majuro island, is the best place to swim on island. I've been to Laura a couple of times now on the weekend. It's an hour drive from the downtown area and I'm told, more closely resembles the outer islands. It's more leafy and the houses more spread out.

In the background of the picture you can see a couple of the other islands in the atoll. The water is therefore part of the lagooon, a coral crater sheltered by a ring of islands, including mine. On the ocean side the water is usually a lot rougher. It also goes on forever. The lagoon's calm waters and islands a short distance away serve to anchor Majuro in a way that I find calming. It makes being on a tiny island a little less intimidating.


The second picture was taken from the shore of Enecko, one of these other islands part of the Majuro atoll. Out with some friends, American and Marshallese, we anchored the boat and emptied a cooler of Budweiser. A few hours later, some friends our boat's owner arrived straight from fishing. Sashimi, raw fish, is a delicacy here. No need to cook the fish, we simply sliced a few open and munched on the insides. Enno. (Mmm... tasty.)

Snap Crackle Pop

Remember that satisfying sound Rice Crispies make as you pour milk onto the cereal? That same snap, crackle & pop can be heard from coral in the evening. Before nightfall at Enecko, another island part of the Majuro atoll, I was out with my friend Jeremy. He was spear-fishing and I was hoping to get a shot of him pulling back the elastic, bow-and-arrow like, before launching the 6ft spear at an unsuspecting fish. But the light was bad, so I contented myself with listening to snap crackle pop. It's the sound of hundreds of fish biting off bits of coral for dinner, only this supper doesn't require milk.

Jeremy, a Californian that works in the Marshall Islands, learned to spear fish as a volunteer on an outer island. The Marshallese like to go out after dark with only flashlights to see by. Sleeping fish make easy targets. Sharks also feed at night (for the same reason I suppose), so you won't catch me snorkeling after dark.

Jeremy couldn't find any edible fish during our excursion, so he contented himself with showing me how to spear-fish. Then we headed ashore.

All dogs go to heaven

Dogs on Majuro tend to be of a certain size. They need to be small enough to survive on scraps, garbage and dung. They need to be large enough to defend themselves against other dogs. In North America we generally love our pets. Some people, as much as children. I wouldn't say that dogs are man's best friend in the Marshall Islands, though.

Mangy, tick-ridden and largely unappreciated, Majuro dogs are far more likely to be kicked than petted. As a result, the dogs can be mean and territorial. I was warned before I left home that I'd have to throw rocks at dogs. I balked - I'm a dog lover after all. But when a snarling dog ran towards me with a toothy sneer, I understand that Majuro dogs are not the happy house pets familiar to me. That angry sneering dog barked at me. I turned to face it and growl back at it. I then feigned a lunge, as if to throw a rock at it (though in fact my hands were empty). That did the trick. The dog backed off and I kept walking.

It was actually the only time in nearly 3 weeks of walking around Majuro that a dog was agressive towards me. Lest anyone worry about dog bites, the dogs here don't have rabies (doesn't exist in the Marshall Islands). I'm also careful not to judge the Marshallese for mistreating "man's best friend", because people sometimes don't have enough food for the family, much less to buy premium milk bones for Spike. I've heard that when times are tough, dogs offer a source of protein. It's hard to let yourself love something you might eat.