We land in Majuro on an airstrip that sits on a sliver of land no more than 200 meters wide. A finger of an island snakes up and bows in a slow arc comprising the outer ring of the atoll and framing a massive lagoon loaded with a fleet of fishing boats. In the airport a colourful sign hangs over baggage claim and on it is painted the greeting “Yokwe”, the Marshallese word for ‘hello’, which literally translated means “you are a rainbow.” They are the kindest, friendliest and most generous people on earth and, like most indigenous people, have gotten royally screwed. The Marshall Islands provide the second richest tuna bounty in the world and ruthless purse seiners – illegal in most other parts of the world – from Taiwan, China, South Korea, China and the U.S. indiscriminately drain the ocean of massive tuna stocks and ignorantly and wastefully throw the dead by-catch – turtles, sharks, dolphins, marlin and more – overboard. But that is another tragic story.