Thursday, December 21 - Friday, December 22, 2017
Stephen Botts and I leave a cold and snowless Vail, Colorado behind. The kind of winter so far that leaves you depressed to wake up and see the sun again. We walk the tarmac to our awaiting A321 just as the first winter snow begins. It’s real snow, but not enough to make me second guess our once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to cruise the Society Islands on Paul Gauguin’s ship, all expenses paid. This highly elite invitation extended by the highly generous Tom and Nancy Botts. The kind of trip you say yes to before you even ask for the time off work.
A delayed plane and a fast walk to the Air Tahiti Nui A340 and we’re watching the sun dawn on the French Polynesian island of Tahiti, a place right off your screen saver. By 7:00 am we’ve rented a car and by 9:00 am we’re eating fresh-as-it-gets tuna sashimi from the grocery on a quiet public beach. Roadside grottos, cascading waterfalls, sharp green mountain peaks and idyllic Teahupoo surf mecca, oh my! We circumnavigate the entirety of the island in a day’s time until I’m delirious with exhaustion. Around 4:00 pm we congratulate each other on the picture perfect deck of our picture perfect hotel for a day well done. We saw the island by car, on the same streets as a local navigating the same traffic - distracted by the same views. The winding roads, the crashing surf, the impossibly steep, lush mountains - we did our best to pay respectful greetings, “La ora na” and thank you’s, “Mauruuru” in the local Tahitian dialect. We proved to ourselves what compatible travel companions we are and that every part of the journey is the adventure.
After a cold Hinano Tahiti beer and ultra-fresh Poisson Cru in coconut milk and lime juice we experienced how the 1% live. A swim past the over-water bungalows and a dip in the ‘lagoonarium’ and infinity pool left us in giggly satisfaction and left me wondering how in the hell anyone could actually afford amenities and lodging like this. I feel a sweep of gratitude well up and wash over me as we watch our first Tahitian sunset. The most marvelous sunset I may have ever seen. Slow moving cotton candy clouds pulsating ever so slightly as their intensity grows and the water sparkles little pink diamonds of perfection.
Saturday, December 23
Cruise day. With Tom and Nancy safely received from the airport last night, we enjoy an elegant breakfast on the open deck of the Hotel Intercontinental Tahiti and then a second breakfast. After a corrected attempt to launch ourselves into the busy Saturday streets of Papeete, we opt for a mellow snorkel just off shore of the Intercontinental. An underwater smattering of otherworldly shapes and colors; familiar to me but so unknown. This is just a taste of what’s to come!
We bid a fond farewell to the Intercontinental, the most luxurious hotel I may ever hope to stay, and make our way to the airport to relieve our rental car of its duties. After a short, quiet, cool taxi ride we arrive at port around 4:00 pm ready to board the M/S Paul Gauguin. A sturdy ship built in the 1990’s only a fraction of the size of her more robust and less dignified Royal Caribbean cousin. Named after French impressionist, Mr. Gauguin himself, her mission is to recreate the mystique, splendor, and wonder the artist experienced during his early voyages to the Polynesian islands. Grass skirts, simple living, fishing villages, turquoise waters, brown skin, and white sand beaches fill my imagination as I roll my carry on bag full of bikinis and big dreams behind me. We’re not sailing until midnight so we settle in, unpack, chow down and sleep.
Sunday, December 24 - Huahine
It’s Christmas eve, they say, but instead of hanging our stockings by the fire, we’re navigating the reef pass and pulling into the picturesque island of Huahine. The ship anchored smack in the middle of a lagoon, we disembark via paddle boards from the marina aft of the ship. It’s overcast and windy, but the austere of the blue lagoon is not lost on us. After a short and impressive wind surfing sesh from Botts, we’re on the launch to our first island adventure. A scenic 20 minute drive in Le Truck brings us through dense green vegetation speckled with the occasional local residence, over a bridge that connects the two islands of Huahine Nui and Huahine Iti, to a white sand beach that empties into crystal clear turquoise waters as far as the eye can see. We stroll down the beach, inhabited by tourists and locals equally, and experience our first non-contrived, genuine moments since leaving the grocery stores of Tahiti. A local man has gutted a pig and is cleaning it out in the shallow waters. He says it’s Christmas dinner from a friend of a friend. In his broken English he describes the location of the feast and invites us back for dinner. I wish we could oblige. The many wrinkles from his enthusiastic smile are accentuated by his sun kissed skin and we remark that he is the happiest man on earth, with good reason.
The feeling you get in your stomach when you’re experiencing something unique - a moment that could never be recreated - that feeling is why I travel. The food, the views, the wildlife, and the people. Having one moment of un-replicatable connection is worth then thousand moments of going through the motions. We return to the PG ship the way we came, listening to the sweet strums of the ukuleles on the dock as we wait for our launch to launch.
In the afternoon it pours rain, typical for this time of year. The cooling drops dimple the surface of the water as we look up to clear our masks. We’re learning to scuba dive in the salt water pool on board the M/S PG! A two-hour lesson is all it takes to transport to a new world underwater. By heartbeat accelerates as I feel the weight of the tank on my back. I inhale, exhale, try not to think too much, and then it’s over! Dive ready! The only thing left to do on this Christmas Eve is to eat, drink, and be merry! A six course meal, fine wine, and a recap of the day and I can barely keep my eyes open. We conquered the day on Huahine, in the rain and shine!
Monday, December 25 - Taha’a
What more could I ask for for Christmas?! A coral drift snorkel booked at the last minute (our timing is impeccable)! Truly one of the most astonishing experiences in the shallow sea. Coral gardens, teaming with life, positioned in a swift moving channel between two perfect motus. A short hike on one side leads to the mouth where the open ocean funnels into the narrow mouth. Snorkel, mask and fins in place, we leap into the rapidly flowing crystal azure water and let our eyes adjust to the world below. A busy metropolis of coral heads, healthy and strong, keep the finned citizens of this untamed blue world safe from the repugnant air breathers. The Picasso Triggerfish and Butterflyfish dart from cauliflower coral to the nooks and crannies of the massive coral, flashing their fancy yellows, knowing that a flick of their fin will keep them safe from any air breather's waterlogged grasp.
Three times we float the channel, taking a new path each time. Each pass revealing colors on a Parrotfish or Orange-lined Triggerfish my eyes had never seen before. Our Polynesian goddess guide greets us back at the boat with fresh papaya, coconut, and grapefruit and delivers us to Motu Mahana, a small private island own by the Gauguins off the coast of Taha’a. We snorkel a little longer just off shore of this perfect white sand motu until Tom and Nancy join us for a big Christmas lunch feast. I can’t imagine anything more perfect than this.
Tom and Nancy depart as a light, cooling rain begins to fall and Stephen and I snorkel the area once again, fighting the current and maximizing our territory covered. Watching the empty lounge chairs on the beach increase and the number of pearl peddlers decrease, we say our goodbyes to Motu Mahana. Back on the M/S PG, we rest and prepare our stomachs for another opulent dinner.
Seven courses later, including the escargot and lobster, the four of us sit back and reflect on all the good fortune this one life has provided. My heavy eyes are just congratulating each other on another day well done when news of the crew Christmas show reaches our table. Not only have the ship’s staff worked to serve us tirelessly for the last 10 hours, but they have also orchestrated a holiday variety show for our viewing pleasure. If I didn’t wholeheartedly believe that the crew genuinely loved their jobs and get paid fair wages, I would call this torture or indentured servitude. But these wonderful ship employees from the Philippines are so full of joy and laughter that I can’t help but believe that this is exactly where they want to be. The holiday show is lighthearted and fun, if not a little corny at times. A good time is had by all, but my eyes are high-fiving when they finally get the okay to close on this Christmas Day of days.
Tuesday, December 26 - Bora Bora day 1
Bora Bora, the island so nice they named it twice. It’s hard to believe a place like this even exists. Having arrived in a cloak of darkness last night, we could just make out the silhouette of Mount Ohue looming over the town of Vaitape. At dawn we feasted our eyes on the soaring rainforest-covered basalt peaks of Mount Ohue and Mount Pahia (or Mtemanu?). Piercing the sapphire sky and reflecting in the indigo turquoise water they are impossibly stunning. I long to bush wack my way to the peaks, but our adventure today lies below the sea. After lunch we will embark on our very first open ocean scuba dive.
The morning schedule unset, we grab our snorkeling gear and take the launch to the private Motu, Ahuna. A small motu owned by a local family generous enough to host the ship’s passengers on its incomprehensibly perfect white sand beach. The pinch-me-I’m-dreaming light turquoise water and fine grain snow white sands are accentuated by palm trees bowing over the shallows for a view of their own. The new perspective of Bora Bora’s west side is reason enough to visit, and the snorkeling through a slight current provides welcomed exercise. We return to the ship, enjoy another filling lunch, and report to the ship’s marina for our dive.
My heart is racing as we board the little boat loaded with our scuba gear. Maud, our dive instructor, is a calming force as well spit into our masks and jet propel to the destination of submergence. Weighing the new world of blue about to be discovered against all that could go wrong, I go through the motions of holding my mask, covering my ear, and seal flopping into the deep blue unknown. Recalling my hand signals and my breath, I ignore the pin pricks of fear and grab the rope of descent. And then the colors come into focus - and the life. We’re surrounded. My left ear is pounding and feels like an over-inflated balloon, but all I can see is the upside down world where the parrots fly with fins, the mushroom coral is my favorite color purple, and the butterflies float through the water as easily they do the breeze. We follow Maud like Mother Goose along the reef below Bora Bora admiring the micro villages of brightly colored aqua fauna until she gives the X signal with her forearms. The dive is over. 45 minutes and 40 feet later we resurface like astronauts returning to earth - gasping for real air and eager to debrief the new worlds we’ve seen. Worlds where words are useless and colors, shapes, and spikes reign supreme. Back on the boat we congratulate ourselves on our first open ocean dive - a new experience Stephen and I can share forever.
Next on the busy cruise agenda - drink a cold Hinano in the stateroom shower to wash the salty depths away. Then tour the gally, champagne in hand. Next? The ships hospital. A tour? No. A real visit to discover abruptly that my left ear has sustained “baro-trauma” from the watery depths and I must not dive for the rest of the trip. Excursions cancelled and enthusiasm deflated, we run to make the bridge tour to be captains for a moment. A new perspective of cruise life. We browse blue prints, peruse safety protocol, and scan the captain’s log. After a few turns on the telescoping chairs it’s time to ready ourselves for the most tantalizing dinner menu of all time. La Veranda dazzled our senses with course after course inspired by the world class chef Jean-Pierre Vigato. Each plate more deliciously creative than the last.
An all-staff talent show is held - but I miss the lip-syncing and break dancing for another show that calls me - the back of my eyelids. Exhausted and deliriously happy, I’m afraid I must retire. Tomorrow is a new adventure.
Wednesday, December 27 - Bora Bora day 2
Our dive cancelled - we’ve got an empty schedule and a whole island to explore. Behind the wheel of a little red buggy 4x4 we circumnavigate the small island clock-wise, taking the only paved road. Beach after beach flash by, just a few feet from the road, each the picture of perfection. Google an image of Bora Bora - that’s what it looks like. Except the smells and sounds are needed to paint the full picture. The air heavy with humidity and threatening an afternoon storm, aromas of fresh fruit and fish on road side stands, families gathering for the holidays on narrow strips of beach an arm’s length from the pavement. It’s all happening as we pleasantly observe, flies on the wall, as daily life moves past.
There is one public beach on Bora Bora - Matira. Just minutes from where our two hour journey began, the beach is empty when we arrive, save for a French family animatedly taking selfies with half a dozen stingrays. Stingrays! We watch excitedly as the silent wave riders effortlessly cruise the shallows, pivoting on a dime and burying themselves in sand in seconds. Their speed and grace intimidates me when I think of the sharp barb hiding on the long needle-like tail. Their speed and grace fills me with awe as I stand knee deep in the same water as these ancient gentle giants. This beach is perfect. A shock of snow-white sand, long and narrow, spills into the color blue so clear and so light your eyes don’t believe themselves at first.
Thursday, December 28 - Mo’orea day 1
I’ve been advised not to dive, but damnit I’m going to anyway - tomorrow. Missing an opportunity like this would be a heartbreak. So I can’t hold Stephen back. While he experiences life under the sea in Mo’orea, I opt to climb on land. Magic Mountain, a 360 degree panorama point up a steep and winding 4x4 road, will wet my adventure whistle. After breakfast, which I’ve been trying to lighten up on - to no avail, we kiss goodbye like Leave it to Beaver’s parents and head out on our respective adventures.
It feels good to be alone - the captain of my own ship. That quiet secret that only I know - I enjoy the company I keep. DSLR camera (the big one) in hand and enough sunscreen on to cover an elephant, I brave the launch alone and set foot on a new and undiscovered island. Taking directions from a local, I walk on the side of the road past multi-colored houses, car graveyards, goats standing on large objects, and observant porch sitters.
