Epilogue

“What was I to find in Tahiti?  Certainly not what Loti had with Rarahu, for that was forty years ago, when the world was young at heart, and romance was a god who might be worshiped with uncensored tongue.  But was not romance a spiritual emanation, a state of mind, and not people or scenes?  I knew it was, for all over the earth I had pursued it, and found it in the wild flowers of the Sausalito hills in California more then the gayeties of Paris, the gorges of the Yangtse-Kiang, or in the skull dance of the wild Dyak of Borneo.”  Frederick O’Brien, “Mystic Isles of the South Seas”, 1918

I awoke from a beautiful dream.  I was sailing on a huge cargo ship.  We sailed to exotic South Sea islands, the likes no one has ever seen before.  Like coming out of a thick fog which hid them from the world, they were islands of gigantic volcanic spires, sticking thousands of feet into the sky.  They were islands of steep cliffs, diving straight into the ocean.  These islands were covered with coconut, breadfruit and guava trees and there was every shade of green you could possibly imagine.  There were islanders adorned in necklaces made of the teeth, tusks and horns of the animals they hunted.  They danced as warriors danced, with tattoos covering their entire bodies and facial expressions that would scare the bravest man.  But they were a gentle people; kind and generous, sharing their small piece of paradise with us visitors. They fed us their local fare of raw fish in coconut milk, roasted goat and pig, banana in coconut cream sauce and many more amazing dishes.  They were an artistic people, creating beautiful carvings in bone and wood.  They were great musicians playing melodic tunes on their musical instruments.  As we would leave their island and go to our ship in the whale boats, they helped us,  carrying us gently in their strong, tattooed arms.  When I awoke from this dream, I noticed something on my right leg.  It was a tattoo, with the designs from these very islands.  The designs of a cross, a man and a woman, a manta ray and the wind and waves of our ocean voyage to these magical islands.  Was it, after all, only a dream?  It now seems so.

Tattoos of the Marquesas

"To a Marquesan of her generation, the tattooed legs of a shapely woman were the highest reach of art"...Frederick O'Brien, White Shadows in the South Seas, 1919

Many visitors are inspired to get tattoos while in the Marquesas. Once you go, you'll understand. 

I ♥ Papeete

I am so happy that Craig booked our last two nights in the Tiare Tahiti on the Papeete waterfront.  Once I got over the reality that now that we were off the Aranui, we'd have to make decisions and pay bills by ourselves, then I had to get past the tawdry things about Papeete: how it's a scrappy port city with too many pearl shops for tourists-- and then see the wonders of Papeete:  how it's a vibrant port and an absolutely great place for locals who know it well, to hang out.  Tahitians are justifiably proud of their island!

Papeete can seem pretty busy because all traffic in Tahiti goes through town right along the Boulevard  Pomare on the waterfront. But amazingly, it only has a couple of street lights and when you, as a pedestrian, introduce your toe into the street, all oncoming traffic immediately politely stops to let you by. Amazing! 

 

We have just come back from a fun meal at the roulottes, mobille restaurants that set up on part of the waterfront promenade to serve a mixture of Chinese, French and Tahitian food, right next to a bandstand/roller skating rink where kids raced on fancy animal shaped trikes and bikes and skates and adults helped them launch sparkly rockets  and other electronic gizmos into the air.  

We were sooooo lucky tonight. Not only was it a clear balmy night but also the island had a major road race for runners, so for at least five hours, ALL traffic on the main drags stopped.  We have no idea how this may have screwed things up outside Papeete but for us it meant tranquil time on the waterfront promenades with the locals, with neat surprises like seeing the Tahitian version of the Hokule'a, (the traditional ancient Polynesian voyaging canoe or vaka).

This  Tahitian va'a is called Fafa'iti, sailing in and being put in order for the night.  It really didn't seem that big but it's apparently bigger than Hokule'a.  Here it comes in for the night

Also we saw our 15th tropical sunset, this one over the island of Mo'orea on the horizon. 

We didn't do too much touristy stuff in our two days. Day one, we took the local island bus down two thirds around the island, then got stuck for several hours at a bus stop/outdoor clothing shop with friendly locals who all had bits and pieces of (mis)information about how we could get home again to Papeete before dark. 

Our bus driver:

Scenes from the country roads:

 a nice grandmother so proud of her grey-eyed twins:

this lady, we want to remember, because she went out of her way to help us lost stranded haoles get taken care of and directed to the right bus:




Today, day 2, we stayed in town.... right from the dock, we took the high speed catamaran, Aremite 5, over to Moorea and back, in the company of local families going over to have a nice day there. Not only were families going over, we also saw people at the ferry  greeting their grandmas who were arriving from Mo'orea with lovely hair decorations and flowers and bright dresses.   And saw the paddlers enjoying Saturday races

Mo'orea is indeed very very beautiful but the way to enjoy it would have been to rent a car which we didn't want to do just for a few hours. We figured with having just been in the Marquesas and Tuamotus we had had our share of unspoiled islands and snorkeling and that to do things Moorean style would be to get back into the tourist mode and we didn't want to.

I have loved people watching.  Both on Aranui and then here on Tahiti, people use so many hand signals.   Fist bump and hand shake patterns to greeting and parting, and lots of Gallic shrugs and even more fast flickering hand signals and finger waves that I could never figure out.  I also love looking at the women's clothing, everything is off the shoulder and tight and with little attractive flounces, but not tacky or cheap, and some of the women do still wear bright patterned mu'us with ruffles but they look different, have dropped waists and are a bit shorter or something that makes them not look like a Hawaiian mu'u.  Then I like the way the men with longer hair gather it into top knots, and put on a small gold hoop earring or a carved bone earring,  the children are all gorgeous and have every eye color and hair color but always with some giveaway like a slight curliness that betrays a smidgen or more of Polynesian ancestry.

This nice lady has a small shop on the upper floor of the market next to a cafe. But business was slow so she started working on a project of her own -- this Hawaiian style quilt!  She says its a tiare pattern.... I couldn't quite see it...

In addition to all the people watching... I have also loved eating, and drinking.  Maire took us last night to the very classy French bistro where we could have extremely authentic duck confit and duck margret with honey sauce and lots of good French wine and digestifs.  For breakfasts we've had a lot of chocolate croissants, for lunch poisson cru and frites.  

And the amazing thing is the generous portion sizes!  French food but islander amounts.  Usually we have been doing great splitting an entree.

And then there is the delicious lower budget fare at the roulottes which is like eating in Singaporean food stalls but Tahitian style. We got to see every spectrum of Tahitian there from the very polynesian to the very Gallic.  We ate roasted veal cooked by a Chinese Tahitian on a spit over amazingly fresh sweet lettuce and carrot salad, at "chez Marie's", and then moved to another roulotte, Creperie du Porte, to have a Grand Marnier crepe and then one with dark chocolate and rum, topped by rum raisin ice cream.

It has all in all been a very excellent choice to stay put in Papeete, Tahiti. I'm sure it would not be ideal for everyone!  But for us, being around local families who are not putting on a front or a show for the tourists has been so refreshing. And, though it seems noisy and slightly soiled at first, if you have enough time to spare exploring  ,Papeete has some beautiful streets, outstanding stately public colonial buildings (although they all have resident chickens, which takes away just a little from the formal stateliness) and some nice quiet neighborhoods, and we found it only takes a block or two of walking inland before you get to countryside and views of the inland valleys and peaks. Beautiful! 

The sunset tonight lasted at least an hour and covered the entire sky and reflected in the waters.  Free to everyone in the park including the homeless man who protected his territory with a magical network of fishing line radiating out from his pack.  Which reminds me we forgot to ask for help with ehat fishing line to get to restring our new Tahitian uke when that day comes!

Life in Paradise

"I shut my eyes in order to see"...Paul Gauguin

Paul Gauguin came to the Marquesas Islands and finally found his paradise.  Yes, he was a pederast, a syphilitic, a drunk and a dope addict.  But he was able to capture the magic of these islands.  You look at his paintings and there are no French bureaucrats, no sailing ships, no modern buildings, nothing to indicate that this place was anything but a lost world full of bright colors and beautiful island girls.

Of course, in reality it was anything but.  In the prior century before Gauguin arrived, the white man brought his diseases, his religion and his shame and inflicted them all on the islanders.  The local population went from about 80,000 in the 1770s, to less then 2,000 by 1903.  An entire culture was wiped out and the Marquesans didn't have a King Kalakaua to resurrect the culture until a Breton priest, named Herve-Maria Le Cleac'ch, arrived in the 1950s and helped bring back the art, the dance and the language.  He knew what the French could do to a culture, as his Brittany was destroyed by the French many centuries before.

So now most Marquesans speak their own language, as well as French.  There are many dancers, even though most of the traditional dances have been lost to time.  And the most beautiful art in Polynesia comes from the Marquesas.  They are some of the best wood and bone carvers anywhere.  The art of the tattoo has been restored and I can personally testify to that on my right leg.  Most Marquesans under the age of 50, so it seems, have tattoos somewhere on their body, even though the Catholic church, which is very strong here, doesn't really approve.

Life is better now, thanks in no small part to the heavy subsides paid to the copra makers from the French government.  This is why you see so many Marquesans driving $40,000 pickup trucks.  Well, it's the least the French can do after destroying an entire culture.

So life goes on on these tiny islands, the farthest from any continent in the world.  Robert Louis Stevenson, when sailing here in the 1880s, wrote...

"And then the sun crested the horizon and there lay the Marquesas: like the pinnacles of some ornate and monstrous church they  stood there, in the sparkling brightness of the morning, the fit sign-board of a world of wonders" 

Nobody has ever said it better.

And here are just some of the scenes we saw over 10 days...

Kids with a pet chicken

Taxi driver musicians

Mother/daughter musicians in Fakarava 

Tattooed barge drivers

Ua Pou pig dancer

Noel, Fatu Hiva wood carver

Ua Pou kids on Aranui ropes

Fatu Hiva musicians

Dancers under giant banyan tree

More Fatu Hiva musicians

Cooking a pig in an imu

Playing soccer on the beach

Playing checkers on a wall