As you read this, a remarkable sailing ship will be making its way across the Pacific, bound for Honolulu and on to the Marshall Islands. When it arrives in Manjuro, in the Marshalls, the long held dream of Giraffes Lonnie and David Higgins will be a reality.
Lonnie, an obstetrician, and David, an attorney, were busy, successful Bostonians when they realized that they were burning out and decided to drop out for a couple of years and go sailing. They bought a schooner, loaded up their kids and headed for the South Pacific.
They found, not paradise, but a world of need. The idea of sailing for rest and recreation no longer made sense to the Higginses. For five years the Higgins Family and their schooner moved from one island to another, bringing in donated medical equipment and supplies and working with islanders to improve local health care, nutrition and sanitation. They came eventually to focus on the Marshalls, where they found TB, alcoholism, soaring infant moralities, a 40% incidence of diabetes and a teen-age suicide rate 20 times that of the U.S.
They felt deeply that the solutions to such deep-rooted problems would never come from outsiders throwing money and technology at the islands. The Marshallese had to regain their sense of competence, to become fully and enthusiastically involved in the regeneration of their culture.
Approaching as partners rather than superiors, David and Lonnie Higgins not only assisted local health workers in dispensing care, they also pitched in digging latrines and washing down clinic walls and spent long hours talking with Marshall Islanders about the Islanders' vision of the future.
Medical care was high on the Marshalleses' list and they felt that the ship, moving among their 34 islands and atolls, was the answer. David, who holds a U.S. Merchant marine license as a Master of Oceans, suggested that the ship move under sail rather than steam. Sail would be "culturally appropriate" for people who have traditionally prided themselves on their own mastery of the sea. A vessel sailing into a small island harbor would not be perceived as one more high tech invasion, especially since David committed himself to helping young Marshallese reclaim their heritage as fine seamen. The vessel would be sailed by young Marshallese men and women, after hands-on training in navigation, seamanship and marine engineering. On board there would be a clinic, a lab, doctors and nurses. At each landfall, Lonnie and fellow volunteer physicians would train Marshallese midwives and paramedics to provide the care and education the island needed. The Marshallese government committed to paying much of the operating costs, "owning" the ship for the islands.
A contest among Marshallese children named this tall ship-to-be, Tole Mour, which means "to bring forth life." The Higginses sold their schooner, founded the non-profit MariMed (Maritime Medicine) Foundation in Honolulu, and began the long and hair-raising process of finding $2.2 million to build Tole Mour.
The couple put everything they owned into MariMed. They learned to fundraise, to recruit Board members, to find equipment donations and discounts and to weather the times when it's not clear when-- or if --the next desperately needed dollar will arrive.
Through it all, they've continued working in the Marshalls. Lonnie describes her goal as raising the image of local health workers, rather than undermining them, as outsiders so often do. "A lot of the medical problems are cultural and will only be solved by education," she explains. "Diabetes won't be stopped by bringing insulin to islands where there's no refrigerator to store it in. It will be solved when people understand that their imported diet of packaged and canned foods full of sugar is the problem." This doctor isn't eager to drop miracle cures on the Marshallese-- her "prescriptions" are more likely to be for "fresh fish twice a day" than for wonder drugs.
Medical and maritime experts are signing on for volunteer time, with the understanding that they'll be expected not only to share their knowledge with the Marshallese, but also to pick up a shovel and dig a taro pit, if that's what's needed.
Now Tole Mour, the largest traditionally rigged sailing ship build in the U.S. in more than five decades, is on it's way "home" to the Marshalls. And Captain Higgins and Dr. Higgins have begun talking with other Micronesian communities that need their own Tole Mour.
