More suspense at the Honolulu airport, where I had a bit more luck with the pay phone. I managed to leave voice mail on Janet's phone and tell her where I would be standing with my red suitcase. She drove me out to their place in the Palolo Valley, where we picked up son Ben and then had a lovely meal at an Italian restaurant in the commercial district not far from their house. Ben Gillmar is a college graduate with about the same build as our son Robert. He talks like his dad (Jack) and speaks Chinese fluently. We talked as long as time would allow about economic and political prospects for China. I will eventually insert some photos in this narrative.
On Friday, May 3, Janet Gillmar and I boarded the United island hopper flight to Pohnpei at 5:30 a.m. For the first leg of the trip I had plenty of room to stretch out. Janet was seated several rows ahead of me.
We crossed the international dateline before landing in Majuro, so what would normally have been Friday became a Saturday. On the Majuro to Kwajalein segment a Marshallese man sat in the window seat next to me. He stank to high heaven, not sure why, but it had to be bad because my sense of smell is only about half that of a normal person. Kwaj is a military base, so you only get off there if you have a job. I didn't really appreciate the recent history of the Marshalls until I read David Hanlon's book, Remaking Micronesia, several months later.
A compact elderly woman who boarded the flight in Kwajalein appeared to be Micronesian but did not introduce herself. She said nothing during the remaining time I was on the plane except for when we were jolted by an air pocket that lifted everyone and everything that was not buckled down about ten inches into the air. At least somewhat shaken, she looked at me and said, “That was bad.” Momentarily, the pilot came on the speaker to acknowledge the bump. “As you may have noticed, we are encountering some texture, and we have asked the flight attendants to park their carts for the next few minutes.”
I got off the plane in Kosrae for a few minutes to take photos for Philip Ritter in Palo Alto, but the airport buildings blocked my view of the main island. I didn’t realize that the airport had been built on the side of the island opposite the main town of Lelu. It was noon, and the sun was almost directly overhead, as you would expect being only five degrees north of the equator. (Pohnpei is one degree further north. Lawrence is 38 degrees north. One degree = 69 miles.)
It had been a long (around ten hours) but uneventful flight, made somewhat tiresome by the TSA requirement that we haul our carry-on luggage down at each of the three airports where we stopped on the way. I later learned I could have checked my larger carry-on for free because it was an international flight.
When were about 20 minutes outside of Pohnpei I finally started to get excited. It would be nice to stay in the same room for four nights.