Programs Blog

October 23, 2024

Location: 16˚ 51’ S x 179˚ 35’ E, about 30 nm out of Savusavu

Weather: Wind out of the East by Southeast, Force 5, Cumulus and Altocumulus clouds

As Tim said last week, hello from the Southern Hemisphere! As introduced before, my name is Kiera Rennick, and I am a technical theatre major from Grinnell College. I’m not quite an ocean-going person, per say, as I call Ohio, New Mexico, and Iowa my current homes—none of them particularly close to the big blue—but I’ve been having an extraordinary time creating a much closer relationship to sailing and salt-spray. In my last blog post I mentioned that I’d always felt drawn to the sea, and suffice to say that now I am here, I definitely know why. I don’t know if I’ll spend the majority of my life seafaring, but this is one of the most incredible things I’ve ever had the pleasure of doing—five layers of sweat/grease/sunscreen/etc. and all.

My topic for today’s blog post is my impression of our visit to Tuvalu; what I did and learned from the experience of visiting. We made our way to the nation after around six days at sea, and even when it was just a speck on the horizon, after seeing nothing but various shades of blue for those six days, I think all of us crew were incredibly excited. For many of us, this would be the first and, probably, only time we would visit— (however, who knows, maybe some of us will find our way back, one way or another).

The first thing that really struck me was the heat. It wasn’t as if we weren’t hot before in Fiji, but at 8˚ S it seemed stronger than ever. Temperatures reached around 30˚C every day, often times peaking more around 31 or 32. Truth be told, it was the hottest I have ever been in my entire life. I think now that every time I feel uncomfortably hot, I will simply remember back to waking up after a “sweat-nap” on the couch and having to quite literally peel myself off the synthetic fabric. Save for things I can’t think up, I don’t know if I will ever be in a situation that hot again.

After that, my time in Tuvalu was mostly spent osmosis-ing information from long walks around the streets of Funafuti; of pineapple Fanta, of clear blue water, of the surrounding atoll, of inquisitive children with excited but confused faces, of development in the face of climate change, of sandbag coastlines and international aid. Plans were discussed to seek a meeting with Tuvalu’s Climate Change department, but ultimately it didn’t pan out, and while I’m sad to not learn more directly as a student, I’m not disappointed by the way things turned out as a human being, and also, ultimately, as a tourist.

As we’ve (us students, and our professors) discussed throughout our time on shore and continuing on sea, the symbol of the tall ship (and consequentially, the organization of SEA itself), has connections to a deep-rooted history with colonialism and imperialism. Especially the image of the tall ship, anchored in a Pacific port, draws up a tumultuous picture. I’m glad we didn’t push any meeting to work out when it wasn’t met with enthusiasm, as it is frankly not the place of a tall ship, flying the American flag, who does not yet have an established relationship with Tuvalu, to be afforded the time of Tuvaluan scientists and diplomats working to save their nation. It is easy, I suppose, to talk about the meeting-that-did-not-happen as a “fumble,” but I really don’t think it was. Everyone on both sides did as much as they were capable and comfortable doing, and it just wasn’t the right moment—more time is needed, and more concrete relationships are necessary.

Separately, (but not really), I also think SEA as an organization would benefit from doing some internal academic/emotional/intentional disentangling from its colonial imagery, past, and influences. It is impossible to, and frankly ill-advised, to attempt to completely separate from them, to deny their existence, but fostering a new awareness of them, perhaps through internal dialogue and maybe also including discussions of colonialism more heavily in classwork, as encouraged topics of retrospective writing, and within conversations about how life and shore-interactions will be at sea, could better help SEA (and SEA students) to approach trips like the one we had to Tuvalu with a more informed, insightful, and connected approach. As students and professors and as an educational organization, of course we would want things like this meeting to work out, but we are not those things first and foremost when we visit Tuvalu or any Pacific nation; we are tourists, and it is the work of a thoughtful person who travels to try to do it with foresight and not to be invasive or pushy or disrespectful alongside the long history of colonialism.

All of that in mind, I really did have a wonderful time in Tuvalu, and aside from my body rejecting the heat in pretty much every way possible (apparently heat rash is a thing…), I wouldn’t have traded my experience for anything else. As a class, we shared time swimming together, cold treats from small convenience stores, and the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever had the luck to see. That evening, I had gone aloft with Tim to watch it, and while we were up there, high on the fighting top, we barely saw a streak of orange when the sun dipped below the clouds. Imagine our surprise after descending, looking up to see a crowing halo across the entire sky. 

Now, we are about to arrive in Savusavu; winds have been relatively fair, now back to their normal trade-wind patterns after a massive low-pressure zone. Squalls have been all right (knock on wood!), and it remains hot but finally getting cooler.

To everyone back home (in all of my various homes), I hope you are well. I miss you all so dearly. To my grandmas, my extended family, my dad, mom, and brother, thank you so much for supporting me while I made my way here; this truly is an adventure of a lifetime, and I have so many stories to bring back. Prepare the TV for a silly presentation, I’ll give it as many times as I need to show you all. To my D&D friends waiting for me, once again, I trust you with my characters, so please please please don’t kill them. Or at least, if you have to, make it cool. To my gaming buddies, you know who you are, I miss you, and I’m sorry we didn’t get to play more before I left. I promise I’ll log so many hours over winter break and spring semester (likely at the behest of the other side of my brain, that begging academic perfectionist). Included in that, Happy Early Birthday Sam! I’ll miss the real thing, but I’m mind-beaming you so many snack pickles. To my friends from high school, all scattered across the states, miss you loads: I can’t even begin to imagine how long we’d be in the hallway if I tried to tell you everything that’s happening here. To my B-watch mates here, if you get around to reading this…you’re keeping me afloat. I love you guys. So, so, so excited for our reunion tour sometime down the line. Lastly, to my friends in Grinnell, (im)patiently awaiting my return, know that I think about you constantly, even if it’s just in the back of my mind (cause I’ve got to steer a boat or something and it needs all my primary focus, wait your turn). I miss your voices and your laughs. I miss late nights and Grilliams. I missed a punk Gardner and I am going to be so emo about that forever. I’m having an amazing time here; will have so many stories to share when I visit. But yeah, I miss you. You know, I’m sure. Oh! One more. Shoutout to Talia’s cat. Hang in there bud, she’s coming home soon!