Experiencing and responding to extreme weather: lessons from the Cook Islands

ABSTRACT

Catastrophic extreme weather events are destructive, costly, and bring about significant harm and distress. As a consequence of a warming world, extreme weather is only expected to increase in intensity. Unravelling the ways that frontline communities, such as those in the Cook Islands, are experiencing, preparing for, responding to, and recovering from, extreme events over time is vital to document, learn from, and share widely. This paper, drawing from 10 interviews with local Cook Islanders from both urban and remote settings, explores people’s perspectives and experiences of, as well as responses to, extreme weather events, with a focus on droughts and cyclones. We found that the immediate devastation of cyclones and the chronic devastation of droughts has impacted participants in diverse ways, most of which take an emotional toll and affect people’s abilities to meet household needs. These participant experiences with extreme weather events and the subsequent lessons that have transpired have led to the development of significant local knowledge and traditional coping strategies which enable anticipation, preparation, and adaptation. We highlight the ways that participants draw on cosmology, worldviews, and community resources for different courses of action in response to extreme weather. Tacit knowledge and endogenous spiritual and community resources offer Cook Islanders agency, hope and resilience in the face of climate change into the future.

KEYWORDS:

• Climate change
• community
• disasters
• indigenous knowledge
• recovery
• Pacific Islands

Introduction

Estimates show that over the last 20 years, there have been 7348 major recorded disaster events. Collectively, they have claimed 1.23 million lives, affected 4.2 billion people (which for many was more than once) and resulted in US$2.97 trillion in global economic losses, which is likely an underestimation (CRED & UNDRR 2020). This is a sharp rise from the previous twenty years; a difference that can be explained by increases in climate-related disasters such as extreme weather events (i.e. storms, floods, and droughts) which are dominating the disaster landscape in the twenty-first century (CRED & UNDRR 2020). It is a well-accepted eventuality that climate change has, with changes observed since around 1950, and will continue to increase the frequency and/or severity of extreme weather events globally (IPCC 2013; 2014).

Small Island Developing States (SIDS) such as those in the Pacific region are highly impacted by these events, despite contributing little to greenhouse gas emissions (Barnett and Campbell 2010; IPCC 2014). Although impacts vary geographically, the most destructive events in the Pacific region are floods, droughts and tropical cyclones which entail considerable costs and damage to major socio-economic sectors and affect the quality of life of many (United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs 2012; Kuleshov et al. 2014). There has been extensive research into the impacts of climate change on biophysical systems and economic sectors in the Pacific, but less focus on “how island communities experience climate change, identify relevant adaptation options, and mobilise their capacity to deal with impacts, including traditional knowledge” (Granderson 2017, 545). Additionally, the tacit knowledge that has developed as a consequence of experiences and learnings over many years is critically important to document and share with others, as Bridges and Mcclatchey (2009, 140) have argued: “Over many generations these atoll cultures have survived major, unpredictable and locally devastating changes that are of the same magnitude as those expected from climate changes”. Place-based understandings of local impacts and vulnerabilities, as well as a deep appreciation for the diverse ways local people prepare, respond and recover are critical for effective adaptation and disaster risk management (Barnett and Campbell 2010; Lata and Nunn 2012), especially in the Pacific (McNamara and Prasad 2014; McMillen et al. 2014; McNamara et al. 2020).

As such, this study is guided by the following overarching research question: how do locals in the Cook Islands experience and respond to extreme weather events? The findings will build on the growing body of work in the region by outlining place-based, personal accounts of loss in the face of cyclones and drought in the Cook Islands, while also unravelling household-level and community-level strategies as well as Indigenous and local knowledge (ILK)¹ used to help prepare, cope, adapt, respond and recover. Focusing on the Cook Islands is critical as they are mostly highly-exposed atolls and there are few studies exploring local people’s perspectives, experiences and responses to climate change and extreme weather events in this nation (see exceptions Taylor 1999; Rubow 2009; Rongo and Dyer 2014; Rubow 2018; de Scally 2019). We explore diverse place-based experiences and subjective personal accounts of loss, preparedness, recovery, and adaptation to identify the lessons that may transpire for future efforts.

Background and literature review

Impacts of extreme weather and climate change in the Pacific Islands and Cook Islands

Floods, tropical cyclones, and droughts – the latter two of which are the focus of this study – are the most destructive and severe weather/climate extreme events affecting countries in the Western Pacific where the Cook Islands are located (Kuleshov et al. 2014). Although the impact of climate and weather extremes varies between countries, in general, such events can result in loss of life as well as economic and social hardship through decreased agricultural productivity, destruction of infrastructure (e.g. electrical, water and telephone connections as well buildings, schools and homes) and slowed economic development (Kuleshov et al. 2014). Cyclone-related economic losses (e.g. losses to physical assets and production losses) are extremely high in the Pacific region and in the Cook Islands where the highly exposed coastlines harbour the majority of the population, infrastructure, and economically important sectors (Cook Islands Meteorological Service et al. 2011; Rubow 2009). Droughts have varying degrees of impact, although, in general, lead to devastating water and food insecurity, fires and, in some Pacific countries, electricity shortages due to limited water for hydroelectricity (Kuleshov et al. 2014).

Extreme weather and climate change can result in the loss of cultural heritage and indigenous knowledge, vital ecosystem services, sense of place and identity, social cohesion, and health and wellbeing (McNamara et al. 2020; Cámara-Leret et al. 2019). In terms of the latter, the mental health impacts of extreme weather events are increasingly recognised, with existing studies from the Pacific Islands region having documented feelings of loss, grief, sadness, anger and stress as a result of acute weather-related disasters (Charlson, Diminic, and Whiteford 2015; Hunter et al. 2015; Sattler 2017; Gibson et al. 2020). "Creeping changes" can also erode livelihood options and threaten social processes, resulting in feelings of loss, fear, and uncertainty (Asugeni et al. 2015). Anticipated threats and losses can have severe mental health and wellbeing impacts, including through “pre-traumatic stress disorder” (van Susteren and Al-Delaimy 2020), which can impair daily functioning as seen in Tuvalu (Gibson et al. 2020). Chronic and repeated disasters can also heighten risks of mental health consequences (Morrissey and Reser 2007; Padhy et al. 2015).

This brief section outlining the impacts of extreme weather events and climate change in the Pacific demonstrates the importance of collecting stories of tangible but also intangible losses and damages, which will be further explored in the context of the Cook Islands in this study.

The role of cultural heritage and traditional knowledge in coping with and responding to extreme weather and climate change

Although not a panacea (Kelman and West 2009), the diverse, multi-faceted practices and knowledge of Pacific Islanders in the face of unpredictability and variability has increasingly been recognised and documented as crucial for adaptive capacity and resilience in the face of climate change and extreme weather (McMillen et al. 2014; Granderson 2017; Dacks et al. 2019; Nakamura and Kanemasu 2020). There are multiple facets of ILK in the Pacific region that have proved critical, including expertise around local change in terms of weather, life history cycles and ecological processes (Lefale 2010; McMillen et al. 2014). In the Cook Islands, for example, studies have documented how local observations, such as changes to weather patterns, fruiting seasons as well as local flora and fauna, are important for understanding climate variability and its impact at the local scale (Rongo and Dyer 2014; de Scally 2019). Observations over generations can also form tools such as seasonal calendars and/or biocultural indicators that guide expectations of weather, phenological characteristics and contribute to the timing of resource management and/or ritual events (Lefale 2010; Johnston 2015; Nakamura and Kanemasu 2020), and can act as a resource for adapting to changing conditions (Leonard et al. 2013). de Scally (2019) identified a series of biocultural indicators (e.g. bird migration, presence of specific species and wind change, among others) that act as early warning signs for climate-related hazards in the Cook Islands, albeit several locals were sceptical of their relevance today.

ILK also informs specific strategies for managing climatic hazards and resource variability as well as maintaining ecological integrity in the face of disturbance and extremes. This includes through food preservation, diversifying crops, cultivating resilient crops, building resilient homes and communal resource pooling (Mercer et al. 2007; Bridges and Mcclatchey 2009; McNamara and Prasad 2014; see Table 8 in de Scally 2019). Other observed examples of ILK reflect resource management more broadly in the Pacific, including customary land tenure rules, harvesting practices (e.g. off-limit conservation zones or adaptive agricultural practices) and communal sharing of resources, which help people deal with resource variability from climate change and extreme weather (McMillen et al. 2014; Granderson 2017). de Scally (2019), for example, described the revival of Ra-ui in the Cook Islands – a traditional resource conservation system whereby access to a particular resource or area is restricted for a specific amount of time.

ILK is, therefore, critical for adaptation and disaster risk reduction in many ways, including for establishing baselines and understanding local impacts and vulnerability (Kelman, Mercer, and West 2009), and for anticipating and preparing for risks (Acharya and Prakash 2019). Reviving and building on ILK and local adaptation or risk management strategies in the Cook Islands can improve the appropriateness, effectiveness and sustainability of adaptation and disaster risk reduction efforts, while also empowering communities and enhancing the organisation of activities (Hiwasaki, Emmanuel Luna, and Marçal 2015; Naess 2013). Despite the criticality of ILK and local strategies and practices, development pressures (e.g. Westernised ways of living), out-migration, religious influence and uncertainty over future usefulness are contributing to the loss of ILK or its lack of perceived relevancy for climate change resilience in the Cook Islands (de Scally 2019) and the Pacific more generally (Campbell 2006). There is a critical need to identify, document and share tacit knowledge for appropriate, effective, and sustainable adaptation and disaster risk management in the Pacific (Barnett and Campbell 2010; Lata and Nunn 2012; McNamara and Prasad 2014; McMillen et al. 2014; McNamara et al. 2020).

The role of spiritual and community resources in coping with and responding to extreme weather and climate change

Due to compatibilities with Western science, the above facets of ILK have been the primary focus in discussions on climate change to date (Granderson 2017). Attention to other facets of ILK such as cultural beliefs, governance structures, and kinship and other networks are also critical – yet often overlooked – as they can guide self-reliance, agency, collective action, and innovation (Granderson 2017). ILK is embedded in and reinforces traditional governance and social structures, including local leadership, kinship networks, group identity, reciprocity and social obligations; aspects that are proving critical for adaptation and resilience in the Pacific (Chishakwe, Murray, and Chambwera 2012; McMillen et al. 2014; Granderson 2017; Perkins & Kraus, 2018). Social networks and institutions can mitigate impacts (e.g. through reciprocal exchange), encourage self-organisation and facilitate social learning, which are all factors contributing to resilience (McMillen et al. 2014; Granderson 2017). Some studies in the Pacific (see Latai-Niusulu, Binns, and Nel 2020) have found that social cohesion is reinforced and strengthened during times of stress as people support one another, facilitating responses to disasters and climate change. These social networks can expand within and across islands and nations, promoting intra-island, inter-island as well as international (e.g. remittances) resource redistribution and cooperation (Lauer et al. 2013; Granderson 2017).

There is also growing scholarship on the influence of distinct cosmologies and worldviews on perceptions of climate change, its risks, and motivations to respond in the Pacific region. Religious faith has been considered both a key impediment to and enabler of environmental engagement and adaptation in the Pacific context (see Rudiak-Gould 2009; Mortreux and Barnett 2009; de Scally 2019; Kempf 2017; Nunn 2017; Fair 2018; Rubow 2009). In terms of the latter, religious ideas and narratives can act as springboards for action, encouraging disaster preparedness and environmental stewardship through non-economic and non-scientific motives (Rudiak-Gould 2009; Nunn 2017; Fair 2018). Biblical scriptures can also be used to make climate change communication and advocacy locally meaningful and morally resonant (Fair 2018), while religious organisations can also play a critical role in building resilience (Thornton, Sakai, and Hassall 2012) and climate advocacy due to their significant financial, political, and institutional power (Dasgupta and Ramanathan 2014; Nunn et al. 2016). Importantly, scientific, religious and ILK are not necessarily irreconcilable or competing and can be entangled or held in balance to create a diversity of narratives and courses of action in response to climate change and extreme weather (Rubow 2009; Rubow and Bird 2016; Fair 2018). In the Cook Islands context, Rubow (2009, 2018) challenges other studies (e.g. Taylor 1999) who generalise and simplify religious understandings as contradictory to scientific explanations and impediments to disaster recovery by highlighting the multiplicity and plurality in interpretations of religious ideas, ways of believing and attitudes towards the church and Christianity. This study will share stories on the tacit ILK related to natural resource management and environmental observations, as well as the critical community and spiritual resources that contribute to resilience and motivations to act.

Method and study site

Ten structured interviews with 11 participants were conducted in October and November 2020 to collect primary data for this study. These interviews were undertaken by staff from the Cook Islands National Council for Women, based in the capital of Avarua on the island of Rarotonga. Given that we wanted to ensure that the voices and perspectives of Cook Islanders in the outer islands – Pa Enua – were included, it was not always possible to undertake a verbal, in-person interview (due to phone connections and cost) and so the structured interview schedule was sent to the participants to complete. Nonetheless, this study retained its qualitative approach with rich qualitative data transpiring. We acknowledge that our findings are based on a small sample size and are not representative of the entire country, albeit this enabled us to obtain and share the detailed and nuanced place-based storylines of a few individuals. This small sample size does, however, present several limitations, including constrained diversity in age groupings of participants and geographical reach across the country. It would be of value for future studies to explore the age differences of participants (most notably the younger generation) and geographical differences (most notably between the Southern and Northern group of islands). It would also be of value for future studies to further investigate how participants group certain events (i.e. whether flooding or storm surges are perceived as separate events or impacts of a cyclone) and correlate this with participants’ knowledge, life experiences, and geographical location, among other factors.

The Cook Islands National Council for Women provided the critical role in selecting participants based on their networks. All interview transcripts/written responses were analysed using NVivo, allowing the social data to be coded into prominent “themes” (Bengtsson 2016). All participants gave informed consent to participate and the University of Queensland (approval no. 2020000640) provided ethical approval for the study.

Four women and seven men were involved in this study. All participants live in the Southern group of islands, except for one from the Northern rural island of Penrhyn. Participants ranged in age from 43 to 56 years old, with an average age of 55 years old. Nearly all participants identified with various Christian denominations and were involved in various community activities to varying degrees, including village life and church. Most participants relied on their gardens, livestock, poultry, and marine resources (i.e. fishing) to maintain their livelihoods, along with varying income streams such as owning a small business, working for the government or non-government organisation, selling flowers, or undertaking contract work. One participant was retired. An overview of all participants, including details of where they were born and live, family, religion, and education/training and knowledge/skills, is provided in Table 1.

Table 1. Overview of participants.

Participants	Gender	Age	Where born/where living now	Married, children	Religion	Education/training, knowledge/skills	Livelihood
1	Male	43	Mauke/Mauke	Married, no children	Cook Islands Christian Church	High school, learnt about traditional planting, livestock and fishing from family	Works as a field officer with Department of Agriculture, also planting, livestock and fishing for subsistence
2	Male	57	England/Aitutaki	Married, three children	Cook Islands Christian Church	Formal education and local knowledge of weather, crops, fishing, plants and animals	Owner of retail business and takeaway food store, also plants crops, goes fishing and breeds livestock for subsistence and sale
3	Male (M) and Female (F)	58 (M) and 59 (F)	Rarotonga (M) and New Zealand (F)/Mauke	Married, two children	Christian	Formally, statistician (M) and teacher (F) but lots of other life skills to develop “sustainable living for ourselves and to model for others”	“We’re self-sustaining, living off the land and developing a small business”
4	Female	61	Rarotonga/Rarotonga	Married, four children	Cook Islands Christian Church	Government accounting skills, middle level management, skills in planting food crops, fishing	Paid job (only one in household), plus subsistence household (“only buy food that we could not grow”)
5	Male	65	Atiu/Rarotonga	Married, three children	Christian	Left school at 14 years, learnt a lot from “community leaders growing up, still practising a lot of those teachings and I believe is the best for our daily living. Nearly everything we do is to survive, i.e. planting, fishing, raising livestock and all done by following the Arapo (Face of the Moon)”	"I used to work but now only my wife works, we have a subsistent living (plant root crops, chickens) and we only buy what we cannot provide, we still have our traditional ways of exchanging foods (crops etc) with our extended families”
6	Female	58	New Zealand/Rarotonga	Separated, three children	Morman Church (but not practising)	Trade certificate in typing, and various other courses, also skills in sewing (traditional Cook Island bed spreads called Tivaevae)	Work for non-government organisation – community health services
7	Female	58	Atiu/Rarotonga	Married, three children	Roman Catholic	Some formal training but also local knowledge of crops, fishing, plants, animals, handicrafts	Florist and selling flower leis, husband is self-employed (draftsman) and also plants taro and keeps livestock for self-subsistence and selling
8	Female	60	Tongareva (Penrhyn)/Tongarevu	Married, five children	Christian	Teaching skills, computer skills, business management, weaving, handicrafts	A paid contract worker (husband also works as their main source of income – he has just been selected as Island Mayor)
9	Female	45	Amuri, Aitutaki/Aitutaki	Married, five children	Apostolic church	Some formal training but also local knowledge of weather, planting, fishing and livestock	Director of family business, others in household all working for business and paid
10	Female	51	New Zealand/Rarotonga	Married, two children	Cook Islands Christian Church	Some management training and informal training	Paid work (job) that is supported by subsistence living (i.e. we grow our own food and fish in lagoon and reef)

The structured interview guide consisted of four key sections. The first section focussed on participant backgrounds with questions on gender and age, where they were born, their family, education and training, and local Indigenous knowledge held. The second section focused on their everyday livelihoods and lives with questions focussed on aspects such as livelihoods, food and water sources, and access to agricultural and fishing grounds. We also asked participants to walk us through a normal day, including their key responsibilities at home and whether these responsibilities have changed over time. The third and fourth section ascertained stories of disaster events and/or climatic change, including sudden/onset events and/or more gradual climate changes over the last 20 years. Experiences of loss and damage following these events/changes and coping/response strategies were detailed by participants.

Although spread over an exclusive economic zone of around two million square kilometres in the Southern Pacific Ocean, the Cook Islands – a Polynesian island nation – has a total of 15 islands that covers less than 240km² (GEF et al. 2009). The 15 islands can be geographically, and to some extent culturally, divided into two main groups: the Southern group (with nine islands) and the Northern group (with six islands; see Figure 1) (GEF et al. 2009). In 2016, the total country population was 17,434 (including residents and tourists), with Rarotonga, as the centre of Government and commerce, remaining the most populous island with 75% of the population (Cook Islands Statistics Office 2018). The remaining islands in the Southern group (i.e. excluding Rarotonga) account for 19% of the population while the Northern group only accounts for 6% (Cook Islands Statistics Office 2018). Given the large distances between islands, some of these smaller populations are extremely remote, where efficient transportation and communication systems are difficult to develop (Cook Islands Statistics Office 2018). Remoteness also poses logistical issues for post-disaster relief and response efforts (World Bank 2015).

Figure 1. Location of the Cook Islands in relation to Australia and New Zealand (left) and the country’s islands (right) indicating where participants live (black circles) (Adapted from Blacka, Flocard, and Parakoti 2013).

The accommodation and food service industry employs the largest number of Cook Islanders (20.9%), closely followed by wholesale and retail trade (15.8%) and public administration (15%) (Cook Islands Statistics Office 2018). Approximately 24.4% of households in the Cook Islands operate land for agricultural purposes with 49% growing fruit and crop trees (e.g. bananas, taro, pawpaw, maniota), 43.7% growing flowers, 35.6% growing vegetables and 55% collecting coconuts (Cook Islands Statistics Office 2018). The largest number of households in the Cook Islands (83.4%), and especially the population in Rarotonga (90.8%), access water through the public water main, while the second most common source is water tanks (63% of all households) (Cook Islands Statistics Office 2018). Water tanks remain the main source of water supply in outer islands – with 98.5% of households in the Northern islands and 87.2% in the Southern Islands (Cook Islands Statistics Office 2018). All water sources in the Cook Islands are vulnerable to drought.

There is a tropical mild maritime climate in the Cook Islands characterised by a pronounced hot wet season from November to April – in which two-thirds of the annual rain falls – and a dry season from May to October (which tends to be cooler for the Southern group) (GEF et al. 2009; Cook Islands Meteorological Service et al. 2011). During El Niño, the Southern Cook Islands experience significant decreases in annual rainfall – sometimes by up to 60% – while the Northern group’s annual rainfall can increase by over 200%; a pattern that then reverses during La Niña (GEF et al. 2009). The cyclone season is highly linked with ENSO and occurs between November and April. In the 41-year period between 1969 and 2010, there were 47 tropical cyclones passing within 400 km of Rarotonga (Cook Islands Meteorological Service et al. 2011). Although there is an average of just over one cyclone per season, this varies annually with some seasons having none and other seasons having up to six (Cook Islands Meteorological Service et al. 2011). By the end of the century, projections suggest decreased frequency but increased intensity of tropical cyclones (Cook Islands Meteorological Service et al. 2011).

The impacts, as the disasters unfold

As participants shared their experiences of extreme weather events and unfolding disasters, two key themes emerged to illustrate local experience and impacts. The first is that droughts and cyclones were the most prominent events. Droughts are sometimes broken by heavy rain or cyclones, highlighting the extremes experienced in the tropical Cook Islands. The second key theme involved discussions around how cyclones bring immediate devastation, while droughts are slow and insidious, yet also take a heavy toll of people: “cyclones just come and go, whereas the drought takes time for the damage to be felt … drought is continuous” (Participant #9, 2020). Almost all participants explained how the impact of drought was the most significant of all extreme weather experienced:

Most severe in terms of impact on us would be the 8 months drought. (Participant #3, 2020)

The changes of rainfall – droughts – are the worst disaster events that impacted every household and the community overall. (Participant #8, 2020)

Drought have been the most damaging to my family. (Participant #1, 2020)

Key impacts from drought included water and food insecurity as well as loss of income, mimicking impacts documented elsewhere in the region (see Kuleshov et al. 2014):

Being scared, being thirsty at night because no coconut to drink because all finished and water from water tanks in our village are salty. (Participant #4, 2020)

Drought – no water to house. Have to go to families on low lying areas for bathing, washing the clothes. Loss of taro and loss of goats and pigs. As well as selling these, these are our staple food. So, there was a loss of income. (Participant #7, 2020)

It affected our plantations, moreso our livelihood, not only us, but everyone else. (Participant #9, 2020)

Reflections on the devastation of cyclones were also shared by all participants. Participants reflected on homes being inundated, coastal areas being washed away, complete or partial destruction of homes, loss of water and power for weeks as well as loss of lives. The impact on specific crops and livestock were also emphasised:

All the food crops were damaged, breadfruit trees, banana trees on the ground, cannot plant around our house because before the cyclone we had yam, tarua, and kumara near our house. Other fruit trees were also damaged. (Participant #4, 2020)

For about six months we had pretty much no fruit, bananas and pawpaws having to start over again and few vegetables. (Participant #3, 2020)

The loss of crops in the community, the cyclone had ruined all the vegetable plantations, coconuts to feed animals and humans. (Participant #6, 2020)

Participants also indicated, as found in other studies from across the globe (North and Pfefferbaum 2013; Sattler 2017; Beaglehole et al. 2018; Gibson et al. 2020), that the impacts of cyclones and drought on resource loss and decreased ability to meet household needs resulted in emotional hardship. During droughts, feelings of worry, sadness, anger, and tiredness emerged, the latter symbolising the chronic nature of the disaster with prolonged hardships (Padhy et al. 2015):

During the drought, it was hard not to bring the right food to your family, nerve wrecking and stressful, you just wonder what is happening, sometimes you turn your anger to your family, which is not fair to them, but these are some of the things that I can recall. Having no coconuts to feed the pigs was also harder to bear. (Participant #5, 2020)

When there is drought, we always get unhappy and tired. There is no grass for the goats and no coconuts for the pigs and no water for our house. We have to buy pig food from the shop and for the goats have to cut leaf branches from the hills … We have less animals now, as we did know of the hardship we encounter. We did not want to go through seeing our animals die because of hunger and thirst. I believe my neighbours have the same grievances as we had. (Participant #7, 2020)

The psycho-social impacts of cyclones mostly emerged as fear and stress, reflecting the sudden and devastating nature of the disaster:

The feelings of loss, people were stressed and scared. (Participant #9, 2020)

People were stressed and scared especially for the cyclone as this is a first for everyone. (Participant #9, 2020)

I can remember lying in bed that night asleep and waking up to feeling of the walls moving in and then out and hearing the rain just outside our bedroom door on the floor where the roof had come off our home. I have never forgotten that – so your emotions. The worry that the rest of the roof was going to come off, the wind was so loud, and we were in complete darkness without power, it was scary. (Participant #6, 2020)

… very scary. You feel concerned for those living by the seaside for all their life and their ancestors and nothing like this has ever happened. (Participant #10, 2020)

At times, a number of extreme weather events and ensuing disasters overlapped, with a cascading effect on people. Drought, followed by a cyclone and then another drought can be a reality for Cook Islanders, as well as repeated cyclones. The heightened and chronic mental health impacts as a result of repeated disasters (see Morrissey and Reser 2007) were made clear:

… the effect after the other, I think makes the struggle harder. (Participant #5, 2020)

… the fact we were dealing with one cyclone after the other, was extremely stressful. (Participant #10, 2020)

The whole island was weary, it just felt like we were all exhausted for most of that year. (Participant #3, 2020)

Anticipatory fear and anxiety (as discussed by van Susteren and Al-Delaimy 2020) of future cyclones also emerged: “I am worried about climate change, and the tropical cyclones, these are more regular now and more intense” (Participant #1, 2020).

Interestingly, however, in alignment with Rubow (2018), participants demonstrated diversity and dynamism in local responses to cyclones, as some also expressed feelings of excitement and thrill:

The first cyclone was exciting, seeing that awesome power is thrilling and not unexpected … we’re used to cyclones, so no one panics as a general rule, we prepare and expect to clean up afterwards. Then the second warning came, and we were all surprised … Then the third came and we were amazed, but not so thrilled. That one hit the school badly and all the thrill was gone. After each event many people go sightseeing around the island to see what damage has been done, sharing photos and video footage taken at risk of high seas etc and helping where needed. I think by the third cyclone there weren’t so many nosey-ing around anymore. (Participant #3, 2020)

It is important to also note that experiences of loss, difficulty and distress during disasters are rarely equal. Inter-island disparities emerged during the five cyclones in 2005, where “[t]he worst affected [were] the people of Pukapuka/Nassau being so far away and isolated” (Participant #10, 2020). Intra-island differences also emerged and are illustrated by two examples from Mauke Island. First, drought was expressed as particularly difficult for those living more remotely “because the villages inland are all on a water main connected to a huge aquifer” (Participant #3, 2020). During cyclones, houses on the coastline were identified as particularly exposed due to larger waves compared to inland houses (Participants #5 and #4, 2020), and households with connections to island leaders were better warned: “our island leaders did not wake up every household, they just woke those they want to and left others, which I thought was unfair” (Participant #5, 2020). Similarly, during recovery phases, some had easier experiences “because we own machinery to help clean our area” (Participant #2, 2020).

Using tacit knowledge to anticipate, prepare for and adapt to extreme weather

Local knowledge systems shape how people anticipate, prepare for, and respond to disasters and the impacts of climate change in the present and future. Numerous examples of anticipatory actions have been trialled and learned through past experiences of disasters. As one participant eloquently put it: “ … our philosophy for living and our values have only been strengthened by hardships and been lessons that we can share with others to build resilience” (Participant #3, 2020). This tacit knowledge is a significant motivator for local people to act in times of uncertainty (Aksa 2020).

This was particularly prominent for cyclone preparation. The importance of preparedness was clear: “preparedness is the key to resolve all of these [losses and damages] from happening” (Participant #8, 2020). There are several key examples of the anticipatory tacit knowledge shared by participants. First, one participant noted that local people in Mauke can anticipate damage from big waves during cyclones:

… the people knows when there will be big waves by which direction the wind is coming from and which area will be affected, everyone will give a sign of relief if it is not North/West to West, because if it is this, then it will affect my village, if not it will only be those places not lived by people. (Participant #4, 2020)

This is a key example of ILK and the use of bioclimatic indicators for anticipating risk, enabling people to aptly prepare and reduce potential losses (McMillen et al. 2014; Granderson 2017; de Scally 2019). Some, however, expressed a sense of unpredictability and loss of control in terms of the cyclone season: “Growing up the teaching was the cyclone period is from January to March, but nowadays, it is as if a cyclone can just happen whenever” (Participant #4, 2020). It is this kind of perceived unpredictability that may contribute to scepticism around the relevance of ILK and early warning signs (de Scally 2019).

Preparation strategies were mostly related to protecting homes, as a number of participants highlighted:

As soon as a hurricane warning was announced on the radio after this, no matter how small, immediately the roof was tied down and left on until the end of the hurricane season. (Participant #6, 2020)

I do have ropes for my house in readiness, should there be a warning, I have someone there, to do it if I am not there. (Participant #4, 2020)

While the key preparedness action was to tie down and secure households’ roofs (see also de Scally 2019), one couple shared that they have gone a step further: “We have used hex roof screws, rather than roof nails so don’t need to tie down the house … We designed and built our house structurally to withstand cyclones” (Participant #3, 2020). These local risk management strategies have been developed through experience and should be built upon in future management strategies (Granderson 2017). As these participants shared: “One certainly learns from experience” (Participant #6, 2020); “ … my island people are really experienced in cyclones, because most houses I know keep their ropes for tying their houses” (Participant #4, 2020).

The importance of accumulating critical resources prior to the cyclone season was also shared (see also de Scally 2019): “At the start of cyclone season our family goes straight into preparation mode” (Participant #10, 2020). This includes:

… stocking up on batteries for the radio. (Participant #10, 2020)

… water, batteries, torches, lantern … a generator. (Participant #6, 2020)

… essential foodstuffs. (Participant #10, 2020)

… bottled and dried foodstuffs and a heap of coconuts. (Participant #3, 2020)

… harvest what you could, preserve and freeze. (Participant #2, 2020)

Another example of this tacit knowledge involved people living along the coastline who, in anticipating storm surges, were sending farm stock and precious and valuable items to families in inland villages, illustrating the importance of intra-island networks (Granderson 2017): "Once the danger passed, they bring them back" (Participants #4 and #10, 2020). These examples provide context-specific strategies and responses for managing climate hazards and resource availability that should be built upon and learned from (McMillen et al. 2014; Granderson 2017).

As outlined in the above section, droughts are longer, more insidious events, making it harder for people to prepare for them too far in advance. Participants did however indicate how they would do the best they could to be prepared for the long haul of drought conditions by purchasing water tanks (Participants #3 and #7, 2020), rationing water in the household and cutting back on things like watering gardens (Participant #3, 2020). These illustrate critical household-level strategies for adapting to changing conditions. One participant (Participant #8, 2020) also discussed the implementation of usage restrictions on community water storages, highlighting the important collective action and cooperation required to maintain communal water supplies (Granderson 2017).

Several participants also highlighted how, using their knowledge and observations on local environmental conditions and processes, they were adapting to the drier conditions of the drought (see also de Scally 2019). For some, this involved focusing on local crops: “During the drought, we figured out that there was no point in trying to grow some common NZ crops, better to stick with those adapted to our conditions” (Participant #3, 2020). This specifically included four different greens, native cabbage, tomatoes, beans and capsicums, the latter of which has adapted to saltier and drier conditions over four generations. For others, it involved planting in different areas and in specific soils during drier periods: “Plant the makatea (coral/stoney) land during drought season, makatea is cooler, plenty shade from trees and soil moist, good for root crops, bananas and also plant the lowest area of the swamp” (Participant #5, 2020). Another participant highlighted how: “bananas are doing well in mulch pits, pawpaw loves these limey soils” (Participant #3, 2020).

As found in the literature (McMillen et al. 2014; Granderson 2017; de Scally 2019), several participants also highlighted the importance of traditional knowledge and resource management strategies for dealing with resource variability:

I still believe that following our ‘ui tūpuna’s teaching [literal translation of “ask the ancestor”, denoting the importance of calling on ancestral wisdom] will help in these times of struggles. Always put something in the ground just in case … for the ecosystem to recover our tūpuna – ancestors – always put a raui to let that area repopulate every living thing in that area, whether in the sea or land. (Participant #5, 2020)

Through ‘ui tūpuna, Cook Islanders understand the importance of balance with nature and the need for care and restoration. As one participant indicated: “Yes climate change is for real. But to help us sustain our livelihood always try and apply our ‘ui tūpuna methods” (Participant #5, 2020). The importance of ILK for sourcing local foods and passing this knowledge on to younger generations was noted: “Let the children know their Arapo² – Face of the Moon – for planting and for fishing also” (Participant #5, 2020). Fears that this is being undermined by Western education, capitalism and growth were shared as genuine concerns (see also de Scally 2019). One participant added that we need to be combining the different knowledges: “ … we just need for our people to stay firm and work the land, by also following the advises of our ‘ui tūpuna and that of the World educated … Combine the 2 together to get the best results” (Participant #5, 2020). This illustrates an understanding that different knowledge and worldviews (i.e. scientific or ILK) are not irreconcilable or competing, but can be entangled and held in balance (Rubow 2009; Rubow and Bird 2016; Fair 2018).

Several participants also shared that they are “sea people” and while the future may necessitate moving away from the coastline, this will not be immediately necessary. There is a drive for self-sufficiency and becoming more resilient to the impacts of climate change by accumulating greater water capacity, growing Indigenous crops, and working with nature (Participant #3, 2020).

Drawing upon spiritual and community resources to respond and recover from extreme weather

In line with Fair (2018), the heterogeneity of religious understandings of, and responses to, climate change emerged amongst participants. First, there were a few references to the upmost trust and security placed in “God’s will”, which although provided a sense of stoicism, were also tied to statements of complacency or passivity in responding to climate change (i.e. accepting whatever comes) (see also de Scally 2019). Participants shared the following: “And, if I must lose my lives because of these predicted disasters, this is God’s work and nothing that I can stop it from happening” (Participant #8, 2020); “Leave everything in the hands [of] God, if it’s his will, let it be” (Participant #4, 2020).

Alternatively, drawing on the same notion of “God’s will”, others articulated eco-theological perspectives whereby faith acted as a springboard for action, especially in terms of being environmental stewards. One participant expressed:

For us, both our faith in God comes first, seeking to do God’s will, to live as good stewards of what we have been given. To be agents of positive change … People and environment are inseparable; together they make up God’s creation … Consider “te Pito Enua” (the umbilical cord between us and the land); people and environment being so interconnected that to sever one is to sever the other. (Participant #3, 2020)

Here, the entanglement of religion with traditional nature-cultural worldviews involving notions of interconnectedness and sacredness of the “land-sea–air domain” was clear, which has led to a different response to the current crisis and a different understanding of humanity’s role and agency in shaping the future (Rubow and Bird 2016; Fair 2018).

The same participant then further articulated this view in the context of extreme weather, and in doing so, illustrated the critical entanglement between religious and traditional knowledge. ILK and local coping strategies, especially in terms of preparation methods, were crucial for responding to religious revelations. For example, notions of “creation care” (Van Dyke et al. 1996; Björnberg and Karlsson 2022) motivated participants to employ self-sufficient local strategies to prepare and rebuild from extreme events rather than waiting for external help (see also Fair 2018):

Creation Care: learning to live in harmony with nature rather than fight it has been valuable for developing resilience, for example after cyclones we can rebuild gardens, we don’t have to wait for grants of seeds, fertilisers, sprays etc … We’re not really worried about the future, we’ve done what we can to prepare, we let others know what might be helpful and encourage good stewardship so that future generations can enjoy what we have, for example grandchildren can get to see live coral and coconut crabs. (Participant #3, 2020)

These participants also engaged with biblical scripture as part of climate change and environmental communication and advocacy, especially in terms of fostering stewardship and motivating sustainable behaviour (see also Fair 2018):

And taking Jesus’ example in Luke 22:26, a ruler is first and foremost, a servant. Doesn’t it make sense that a good ruler looks after what he rules over … And what does the Bible say about providing for the future (sustainability)? Proverbs 13:22 “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children”. Possessions and money won’t sustain future generations for long, but a good example and a healthy environment will. (Participant #3, 2020)

God created an incredible environment and then made man who was given rule over creation (Genesis 1:28). Unfortunately, that verse has caused some to think they have the right to do whatever they want … But consider Luke 12:48 “ … to whom much is given, shall much be required” Proverbs 12:10 “ … A righteous man looks after his animals … ” (Participant #3, 2020)

This contrasts findings by de Scally (2019) and illustrates the potential for “more-than-scientific” messaging (i.e. engaging with biblical scripture) to make environmental and climate advocacy and communication locally meaningful and morally compelling, inspiring environmental engagement and action (Rudiak-Gould 2009; Fair 2018). The entanglement of knowledge and the compelling messaging that can be drawn from biblical scriptures supports arguments that religious faith can enable environmental engagement and motivate stewardship (see also Fair 2018; Björnberg and Karlsson 2022).

These deep spiritual resources are also intimately connected to the cultural community and kinship resources that are important in times of need and place Cook Islanders in a strong position in the face of future climatic change. All participants shared their experiences of collective efforts and the community banding together during disasters:

Prep and clean up after cyclones are always a community event. (Participant #3, 2020)

This was an event that affected the whole of the island … so we all had to pull together, work together. (Participant #6, 2020)

The best way to cope is for the communities to come together, work together and listen to elders. (Participant #5, 2020)

… family is important to us, we don’t worry about too much money, we just have enough to live on, as a family unit we all help each other out, this is the way of our people. (Participant #1, 2020)

As has been evident during these COVID times, people share, no one is hungry. (Participant #3, 2020)

The importance of kinship and social networks for recovery were particularly evident through processes of resource-sharing and assistance, as seen in previous studies (Campbell 2009; McMillen et al. 2014; Granderson 2017). During a drought in 1999 in Mauke, for example, inter- and intra- island networks meant that sacks of coconuts and taro were sent from unaffected to affected islands. One participant noted:

My wife even had to ask her sister who lives on another island Mangaia to send us taro by boat where we received 5 sacks [and] we peeled and stored in the freezers to last us for a few months. (Participant #5, 2020)

Resource sharing allows for food preservation, which is a critical strategy for managing resource variability. Other participants also highlighted how, for those whose land became too dry, they could use and share parts of their families’ land to grow staple crops. Another participant reflected on going to family members’ houses for bathing and washing clothes when low on water (Participant #7, 2020).

For some, these kinship networks expanded internationally, with one participant having a relative in New Zealand who sent timber and iron roofing for rebuilding a house damaged by a cyclone. These kinds of kinship and community networks and efforts are critical as several participants noted that the “Recovery Effort Assistance was slow in coming to the assistance of our people” (Participant #9, 2020); an issue that seems to be rife in the Pacific context (see Nakamura and Kanemasu 2020). As similarly observed in other studies focused on the Pacific (see Granderson 2017; Nakamura and Kanemasu 2020), these processes of intra-island and international exchange and resource redistribution highlight the importance of social and kinship networks for buffering disturbance and speeding up recovery, and thus enhancing resilience (Campbell 2009; Lauer et al. 2013).

Although cyclones and droughts result in extensive losses, one participant also shared how the hardship of extreme weather events may result in the gain of strengthened community ties:

I believe that Cook Islanders are a people that come together to help each other more so during times of distress and hardship, we all know each other on the island … I do believe that in times like this it brings a community together – we were borrowing or lending things like wheelbarrows, chain saws, bush knives and sharing food. (Participant #6, 2020)

This reflects similar findings in Samoa, where Latai-Niusulu, Binns, and Nel (2020) found that social cohesion was reinforced and strengthened during times of stress.

These findings clearly illustrate how cultural support networks, group identity and reciprocity enable but also sustain social resilience to buffer and reduce the impacts of extreme weather events (Perkins and Kraus 2018).

Concluding remarks

This study set out to document and explore how Cook Islanders experience and respond to extreme weather events. The nuanced storylines and observations detailed in this study support, refine, and contextualise existing studies from the Cook Islands, Pacific region and across the globe. For example, we found that participants experienced a range of impacts from cyclones and droughts, which have affected both tangible and intangible resources. It would be of benefit for future studies to explore the more acute differences in impacts experienced by those in the more elevated Southern Group islands compared with the lower-lying Northern Group islands. Understanding these differences will be critical in planning future climate change adaptation across the country. Participants also importantly shared the emotional impacts of slow-onset (e.g. tiredness and anger) and sudden-onset (e.g. stress and fear) events which, as found in other studies, stem largely from a loss of specific resources, decreased ability to meet household needs and anticipated threats.

We found that Cook Islanders have had extensive experiences with extreme weather events and have used and nurtured critical ILK, worldviews, capacities, and resources to help anticipate, cope, prepare, respond, and recover. The nuanced storylines verify and contextualise important strategies for disaster risk reduction and climate change adaptation that have been documented elsewhere, including the inter- and intra- island sharing of resources (e.g. construction material, foods, fertile land) which mitigates differences in climate challenges (e.g. Campbell 2009; Lauer et al. 2013) and place-based agricultural strategies for managing resource availability and climate hazards (e.g. use of specific crops and planting in different soils). Similarly, hybrid and dual-pronged approaches (e.g. in terms of cyclone preparation, early warning systems and dealing with natural resource variability) were highlighted, outlining how a combination of knowledges can be leveraged to maximise capacities to cope with extreme weather at a local scale. Importantly, the stories and observations verify and support other studies in the potential for biblical bases for environmental stewardship and in demonstrating how different knowledge systems are not always competing or irreconcilable (e.g. Rubow 2009; Rongo and Dyer 2014; de Scally 2019; Rubow and Bird 2016). The documentation of these place-based and high-resolution observations and adaptations are important in places like the Cook Islands where local scale data is often difficult to find and where integration of local knowledge into climate change policy needs to be strengthened (de Scally 2019). It would be valuable for future studies to explore how the younger generation engage with ILK, how and if it is being transferred between generations, and the extent to which traditional response strategies are being passed down to the younger generations. Ultimately, it is important to revive and strengthen local knowledge’s role in adaptation and risk reduction as these resources provide agency and hope into the future. As one participant reminded us, the “[r]unning of these disasters should be kept on Island rather than from outside” (Participant #2, 2020).

Availability of data and material

The data that support the findings of this study are not publicly available due to them containing information that would compromise research participant confidentiality and anonymity.

Acknowledgements

We are grateful to the participants for their openness to share their stories and perspectives and we are very grateful for the time they gave us in doing so. We also wish to thank the staff at the Cook Islands National Council for Women who were instrumental in facilitating data collection for this study.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s), despite the second and third authors being in a married relationship.

Additional information

Funding

This research was funded through an Australian Research Council (ARC) Future Fellowship (grant number FT190100114).

Notes

1 Although there has been some debate around the terms used to refer to this knowledge, this is out of the scope of this study. By ILK, we refer to the knowledge and know-how that has been accumulated across generations to guide societies in their diverse interactions with their surrounding environment (Nakashima et al. 2012). This knowledge is dynamic and adapts to new conditions (Gómez-Baggethun, Corbera, and Reyes-García 2013).

2 The Arapo, meaning nights of the moon, refers to the traditional calendar in the Cook Islands and is used to indicate best timings for activities such as fishing, planting, and harvesting (Ama 2003; de Scally 2019).