created a fireball four miles wide and raised the temperature of the lagoon water to 99,000 degrees. The blast was 1,000 times more powerful than the Hiroshima bomb and nearly three times stronger than its creators expected. It shook islands 250 miles away. It vaporized three islands in the atoll. And it killed every living thing in the air, on land, and in the sea for miles around. Three to four hours after the blast, the 64 inhabitants of neighboring Rongelap Atoll, next door to Rongerik, watched in wonder as the snowlike ash from Bravo began to fall on their island, reaching a depth of two inches. The children played in it. People drank water saturated with it. Soon they began to experience vomiting and diarrhea; their eyes burned, and their necks, arms, and legs swelled. The Americans had not bothered to tell the Rongelapese what they were planning to do. With these surreal thoughts in mind, we dropped fishing lines in the H-bomb crater. We spent a few hours on Nam and on neighboring Aomen island. There were seabirds everywhere, millions of them. Virtually any tree we saw contained two or three fledgling terns or boobies or frigate birds. At some point, the Bikinian men disappeared to look for food, an endeavor they took great pleasure in. Majuro, where they live, is dense and urban; food gathering is done at the supermarket. Here, there is something wild and free and timeless about it, a tradition Alson remembers from living