For as long as I can remember, the islands of the Pacific have held a particular fascination for me. In the early 1980s I became intrigued by the status, possibilities and future of the tiny island nation of Nauru in the Central Pacific.   Nauru's fortune (at that time, it had the world's highest per capita income) and plight were based on the fact that the island was composed almost entirely of very valuable bird guano. As the guano was mined and shipped overseas and Nauru's bank balance expanded, so did the available land diminish.  Faced with a dwindling, despoiled land mass, the Goverment of Nauru was at the time seriously exploring the possiblities of acquiring an island in the Pacific sufficent for both present and future population. The main difficulty surrounding this enterprise was that all of the islands in the Pacific were owned or at least  claimed by one government or another.  Although many were willing to sell, none were willing to give up sovereignty. In turn, Nauru, after so recently recovering its independence, was not anxious to lose it again.

Not only was I aware of the search and its  difficulties, but I also thought that I had a solution that would make everyone happy.  In a nutshell, my thoughts were to move the population of Nauru to the Marquesas in French Polynesia, and in the process create a new Pacific island state embracing the two peoples. Certainly the idea had its merits, the Marquesans had more land than they knew what to do with but no money to develop it or support a government. In turn, the Nauruans had money but not the land; in theory it appeared to be a good match.

At this stage I had another project in mind as well, which was the creation by Nauru of a musuem featuring the traditional arts and culture of the Pacific. Actually, part of my fascination with the Pacific revolved around its incredibly rich traditional culture which in turn had led me to a career as a collector/dealer of Oceanic art.  Not only did I feel such a museum was a very worthwhile project for Nauru, I also felt that this proposal would serve to establish at least some measure of confidence before I approached anyone with my somewhat unorthodox idea for a new Nauruan homeland.

Obviously the first step  was to make the aquaintance  (at least by telephone) of  H.E. Hammer DeRoburt,  at that time Nauru's most excellent President and father of its independence.

This was fairly easy.  A call to information in Nauru and voila! The Pacific was still a very informal place and His Excellency proved to be a friendly and straightforward person.

Starting in early 1981 and continuing until late 1985, I traded letters and telephone calls with H.E. Hammer DeRoburt and later Chief Secretary T.W. Star and felt that at least some measure of rapport had been established. They initially expressed great interest in the possibility of the museum project so I (with help from my friends) pulled together various cost analyses, both for the collection proper and a museum building.  Given the size of Nauru and its remoteness, I envisioned a large travelling collection which would also some day become the foundation for a internet based on-line research facility.
Talks went along very nicely for a time but then things started to slow down.  We seemed to have interest in the proposals but no real action or decisions were forthcoming. At this time (early 1985) I felt I needed to take some action that would help move things along towards an actual commitment. A trip to French Polynesia appeared to be in order to check out the feelings and possible interest of the third leg of this triangle, that is, the people of the Marquesas.  A positive response would hopefully give me the ammunition I needed to kickstart the negotiations. This presented its own difficulties; I could hardly appear unannounced asking impertinent and probably incomprehensible questions about independence and manifest destiny. Obviously I needed an introduction and it needed to come from a person of some stature in French Polynesia. Here I turned to back issues of Pacific Island Monthly and found the person I needed. Oscar Temaru, the charismatic leader of a strong Tahiti based independence party, and an elected member of the French Polynesian Assembly appeared perfect for the role I had in mind.  The more I learned about Oscar Temaru, the more he sounded like a person I could work with and who would also be receptive to my ideas. A trip to Tahiti appeared to be in order, with a face-to-face meeting for this rather delicate next step. In any case it was winter in Los Angeles and a trip to Tahiti with Rebecca, my friend and partner in this endeavour seemed an excellent idea.

Although Papeete was somewhat more urban and civilized than I remembered from past visits it was still a romantic and raffish old style south seas port. Finding Mr. Temaru turned out to be relatively easy, although I had neither address or telephone number.  One morning while Rebecca and I were enjoying our cafe au lait, we fell into conversation with a friendly Tahitian lady who was a driver for "le truck" - Tahiti's public jitney system and whose cousin was married to M. Temaru.  From this first serendipitous meeting things moved along very nicely, our new friend was delighted to take a slight detour in le truck and personally deliver us to his compound. Oscar in turn  received us hospitably, and after I had explained my thoughts of moving Nauru to the Marquesas, was intrigued by the possibilities of what I was proposing. Our talks progressed nicely and within a few days I was  invited to accompany Oscar on his first "turn out the vote" campaign in the Marquesas. With a week to enjoy ourselves Rebecca and I swam, snorkled, visited the neighbouring islands and worked on our tans, until at week's end, Rebecca returned to the joys of Los Angeles while I prepared myself for the rigours of the campaign trail.

Having no particular reason to remain on Tahiti and wanting to see as much of the Marquesas as possible, I departed for the island of Nuka Hiva, planning to meet up with Oscar and his entourage some days later on the island of Hiva Oa. I had always wanted to visit the Marquesas, the valley of the Taipivai of Herman Melville fame and to explore the ancient stoneworks of the Te Henua. The Marquesas in truth have a eerie dreamlike quality -- wild soaring peaks, knife edged ridges, ribbonlike waterfalls, and beautiful fecund valleys now empty of people. I spent my days exploring and making friends, although with my hesitant Marquesan the latter presented quite a challenge.

On the morning of the fifth day I boarded the SS Tavenui (one of the Marquesans' few links to the outside world) for the short trip over to the small island of Hiva Oa where I was to connect with Oscar and entourage.

The next day we hit the campaign trail, actually, in this case, a trip by launch round to the back side of the island to meet with residents of some rather remote villages. So the campaign proceeded, by foot, truck and launch and with countless  meetings, rallies, speeches and fabulous banquets.

Oscar introduced me wherever we went, and invited me to share the podium while he spoke on various issues in connection with the upcoming election.  This was all most enjoyable, speechifying came as natural as breathing and I took to it like a seasoned pol. The tour was fun, with more of a feeling of a royal progress than a political campaign.

But eventually the Marquesan adventure drew to a close and we headed back to Papeete. It had gone very well indeed; the Marquesans certainly had their reservations but were also receptive to the possibilities of independence. I left Papeete with good feelings; I felt that we now had something of a base from which to move forward.

Unfortunately this was not to be. Communication between the various parties was difficult and turned out to be our undoing. Material and additional information that I required from Tahiti was not forthcoming. Also, setting up a meeting with H.E so that I might go over developments proved to be quite difficult. I had by this time put a lot of time, energy and money into the project with unfortunately nothing concrete to show except a good tan. The potential was obviously there but my funds were running low and I had obligations and commitments to meet. At the time I didn't feel that I was abandoning the project but mearly putting it on the back burner for a period or at least until I once again had time and money.

Unfortunately, H.E. Hammer DeRoburt died on July 15, 1992 and the possibilities of resurrecting the project seem to die with him.  I just could not see starting again from scratch. Looking back I think that we had a chance to achieve something very special indeed, and in effect rework the politics of the Pacific, but unfortunately the concept was perhaps too advanced for its time.