THE RISING ISLANDS

Funafuti Atoll’s main coral road is bustling. Sputtering motorbikes and cackling kids dart across the late afternoon heat while unamused adults watch on from their fusis, or shops. We seek refreshment at Tefota Mini-Mart where the young clerk, Katalaina, is dressed in a tight “BEAUTIFUL SINCE 1992” T-shirt, her hair yanked into a brown bun. A crude sign outside had advertised an “amazing beer garden” with a green arrow pointing the way. But the amazing place isn’t open.

Instead, Katalaina sells me a sixer of Victoria Bitter (illegally, she claims). Daniel, Nico, and I each crack a can. Then another. Seeing this, Katalaina demands we file into the shaded area behind her fusi.

“Might we get arrested?” I ask.

She laughs. “Probably. The police here don’t have much to do except arrest guys who are fighting or are drunk on