As I look back on 2018, I realize more and more that this was where it all began.
That journey through the Pacific was the true source of my cultural immersion across Oceania. From Aotearoa to the Marshall Islands, something shifted in me through the people I met, the places I stayed, and the way I began to experience the islands beyond the surface. It was this trip that helped establish a realization that has stayed with me in every cultural journey since: the people come first.
This voyage was not just about moving from island to island. It was about learning how to slow down, listen, and connect. It became the foundation for the way I now move through Oceania and the way I wish to tell stories within it.
These were my stops:
Tonga
Leaving Aotearoa brought me into my first true Pacific Island cultural experience in Tonga, infamously known as the “Friendly Islands.” After having last experienced the tropics three years earlier in Cuba, stepping into Polynesia felt like entering a completely different world. Here was the Pacific’s last remaining kingdom, alive with its own rhythm, cultural depth, and way of life.
My time in Tonga took me through Tongatapu, the island of ‘Eua, Uoleva in the Ha’apai island group, and into a deeper immersive experience in Vava’u. It was my first real taste of what it meant to connect with the Pacific not as a quick visitor, but through culture, environment, and everyday life.
Fiji
After experiencing what felt like the definition of a true voyage by sea, I arrived in Fiji after five days sailing from Tonga. This part of the journey was split between about a week and a half on a sailboat and another stretch of time on land. That combination alone made Fiji feel different, as if I was arriving not just by plane or ferry, but through movement that mirrored the old spirit of voyaging.
My time there gave me a firsthand glimpse into parts of the western Mamanucas and western Viti Levu through village stays and local connection. Fiji stood out to me as a true crossroads, an archipelago carrying both strong Melanesian and Polynesian presence. You could feel it not only in the people, but through language, atmosphere, and the cultural layers that shape the islands.
Tuvalu
Tuvalu had long been high on my list. All it took was reading a few online resources and a few books in an Auckland library, and somehow this small island nation climbed straight to the top of my travel desires.
Because of that, my anticipation for Tuvalu was incredibly high. And when I finally arrived, it did not disappoint. I felt like I had my breath taken away, but also like I had somehow arrived somewhere familiar. The language, the people, the local culture, the music and dance, and the stunning contrast of green narrow strips of land against deep blue lagoon and ocean all left a strong mark on me.
At the same time, Tuvalu also touched something deeper in me. Like many low-lying atoll nations, it is on the front line of climate change, and seeing that reality with my own eyes pulled at my heart. My time there was limited to Funafuti, partly because of my shoestring budget and partly because onward travel to Nauru required strict advance planning. Still, even within that short time, Tuvalu became one of those places I knew I would want to return to and experience more deeply.
Kiribati
Not far from Tuvalu lies Kiribati, another place that had lived high on my list long before I ever made it there. Going back to my old 9-to-5 days in the foothills of South Carolina, Kiribati was one of those places I would think about often, curious about its remoteness, its cultural depth, and the life that existed beyond the little glimpses most people ever see.
The overwater buia stay at Tabon te Keekee was one of the main highlights that originally drew me in, but the trip became much more than that. Even on a shoestring budget, I was able to experience both North and South Tarawa, travel outward to local communities on Abaiang, and spend time in the vibrant island life of Butaritari in the north.
To this day, Kiribati remains one of my favorite cultural destinations in all of my travels. Alongside Tuvalu, it is one of those places I still deeply yearn to return to. Budget or no budget, it has stayed with me in a very real way.
Nauru
Nauru was by far one of the most unusual and complicated travel experiences of the entire journey. I had to rush my time in Tuvalu to meet Nauru’s visa requirements, return flight obligations, and pre-booked accommodations, so the logistics around it felt more intense than anywhere else.
But despite all of that, the five days I spent there turned out to be incredibly rewarding. I connected with Nauruans, explored caves, took drives around the island, hunted noddy birds, and even picked up some of the language. It was one of those places that may have felt complicated to enter, but once there, the human experience made it worthwhile.
Marshall Islands
My final stop after Kiribati, and before what became five years of life in Hawai‘i, was the Republic of the Marshall Islands. By then, I was working with very little money left, and my ability to move around was extremely limited. Issues with local air travel made things even more restricted, so I had to keep my experience simple.
Even so, I still managed a low-key immersion in nearby Arno Atoll. My time in the Marshalls may have been limited, but it left an impression on me. More than anything, it was the language that intrigued me. That alone remains one of the strongest reasons I would want to return one day, to go beyond what I was able to experience the first time.
Why This Trip Was So Vital
My 2018 Pacific Islands journey was more than just a trip across Oceania from south to north. It was perseverance. It was the reworking of a voyage that had been cut short a year earlier because of an Achilles tendon injury. But even beyond that, it became something much bigger in terms of my place in this part of the world.
That year was a clean slate into a world I was meant to experience, but perhaps had not yet been ready for during the year of my injury. It showed me that the Pacific was far more than the paradise imagery often seen in photos and social media. It introduced me to the deeper layers of Oceania through people, tradition, language, movement, storytelling, and worldview.
In many ways, 2018 helped prepare me for everything that came after. It opened the door that eventually led me deeper into Hawaiian culture, and from there into an even fuller understanding of the wider Pacific. It gave me a different lens, one that continues to shape how I travel, what I pay attention to, and how I want to document these places and communities.
A Lasting Foundation
Looking back now, I can clearly say that 2018 was not just another chapter of travel. It was the foundation.
It taught me that this part of the world was never going to be about simply passing through. It was going to be about relationship, humility, learning, and a deeper kind of storytelling rooted in people first. Everything I have done since in Oceania traces back, in some way, to this voyage.
After all, One Ocean One People did come to life in the end.
Want to Support One Ocean One People?
One Ocean One People is a 501(c)(3) public charity, EIN 66-1076838.
Donations are tax-deductible.
Want to Support the Voyager?
If you would like to help fund my ongoing work as a creator and immersive cultural documentation in the Pacific Islands?
