Interview: Bill Raynor

Bill Raynor, the Conservancy’s brains behind the Micronesia Challenge, talks about life on a remote island and what it takes to become a yam king.
—By Courtney Leatherman

Nature Conservancy: For 28 years you’ve lived in Pohnpei—one of 607 tiny Pacific islands that make up Micronesia. How did you ever find it on the map?

Bill Raynor: It is kind of in the middle of nowhere. 

 
Nature Conservancy: But you went anyway.

Bill Raynor: It was a leap of faith, that’s for sure. My senior year at [the University of California at] Davis I did three term papers on Micronesia. And I was an agronomy major.

So I was very excited when I learned through Jesuit Volunteers International that there would be a post teaching agriculture in Micronesia.

 
Nature Conservancy: How would you describe Pohnpei?

Bill Raynor: It’s not a typical tropical island. It’s got a high peak in the middle—the highest point for 2,000 miles—and is 13 miles in diameter. We don’t have sandy beaches; we’ve got mangroves. It’s extremely green—we get 205 inches of rainfall a year—and muddy and wet and humid. It’s not paradise. But it’s a really special place.

 
Nature Conservancy: I’ve been told that you were born Micronesian at heart; you just started out in the wrong place.

Bill Raynor: I think that’s true in some ways. I grew up on a farm in rural California. And it turns out this is the one island in Micronesia where status doesn’t come from fishing; it comes from farming. I was lucky I got to the right island; I wouldn’t have lasted anywhere else. I’m not a fisherman. I didn’t like the water until just a couple of years ago.

  
Nature Conservancy: What? But you’re surrounded by water.

Bill Raynor: People come from all over to dive here. I’d lived here for 18 years before I ever saw the reef. I really love the forest.

 
Nature Conservancy: Hmm. I admit I’ve lived in Washington, D.C., for 20 years and never been to the White House.

Bill Raynor: Well, that just shows you. I’ve been there three times.

 
Nature Conservancy: I hear you’re known around Pohnpei as a sweet potato king.

Bill Raynor: Yam king.

 
Nature Conservancy: What’s the difference?

Bill Raynor: These are big tropical yams. They’re 4 to 6 feet long. It takes a year to grow a big yam. It’s a massive amount of work.

 
Nature Conservancy: So how’d you get to be a yam king?

Bill Raynor: Pohnpeiian culture is about what you can produce for the community. That’s how they judge status. You move up because of contributions based on yams, kava [a local drink] and pigs. I’d been here three years and grew a giant yam. It took four of us to carry it to the feast. The king came off the dais to look at it; all the old men gathered. I was really embarrassed. Then they gave me a really high title—Soumadau en Pei ni Eng Eihr—the Lord of the Altar of the East Wind.

 
Nature Conservancy: Besides at feasts, do you eat a lot of yams?

Bill Raynor: Yams are … you have to understand the culture. You’re asking me how rich I am. You never ask an American how much money they have in their bank account.

 
Nature Conservancy: Speaking of success, I know the Micronesia Challenge started in 2006 when the Conservancy and Palau’s president inspired neighboring islands with his pledge to conserve 30 percent of nearshore marine resources and 20 percent of forest resources by 2020. But I’m still not exactly sure what that means. How do you describe it to your mother?

Bill Raynor: I don’t have the elevator speech worked out. But it means that every person on every one of the islands will be exposed to conservation—be it a small marine protected area, a conservation forest, maybe a closure on a spawning aggregation at certain times. Conservation is going to be brought back into the daily life of people living on small islands.

 
Nature Conservancy: So you’re one of the big shots in this challenge, but really, you’ve already had your 15 minutes of fame, right? Oliver Sacks mentions you in his book The Island of the Color Blind.

Bill Raynor: That’s right. He wrote this chapter about me and sent me the book to look at and edit. He had me as a Jesuit priest enticed away by a woman. He corrected that, and I gave him other advice on the book. He hung up and never talked to me again. But I figure I have a couple other minutes left in me.

Nature picture credits: Photo © Toby Hoogs