triptych - noun - a work of art composed of three panels (Oxford Dictionary)
Raiatea, Moorea, and Tahiti are Mother Nature's triptych of ineffable beauty. If you are more of a film fan than art aficionado, then you'd probably appreciate this metaphor: Scenes of splendor on these three islands could compose a trailer of coming attractions for the afterlife. I know, I already compared the Hawaiian Islands to Heaven in my last installment. Well, these are just as paradisiacal and could just be part of the landscape of the next life. Maybe the back yard?
First stop: Raiatea. This simplistic island in the sun, the second largest of the three, has a population of about 12,000 people. Which is the same size as Red Bank, N.J., but I'm talking about the entire island here (92 square miles). The primary harbor town of Uturoa, where our ship anchored, is about the smallest island hamlet I've ever seen anywhere tropical, and I have been to a lot of tropical islands. In fact, I didn't see one hotel. Apparently, small ones are located on the other side of the island, which has a circumference of about fifty miles. Our flamboyant native guide, HeyLouie (most likely spelled differently), a real character, regaled us with factual tales of his people, the Ma'ohi, the ancestors of today's Tahitians, in between playing tunes by Credence Clearwater Revival on his instrument that was somewhere between a guitar and a ukulele. In his native tongue, his name means Big Crown, which was appropriate as he wore a wreath of palm fronds not only on his head but also on his ankles. His tattoos were too numerous to ignore, and he told us that the many inky pictographs were emblazoned not only on his skin but also on his soul. (Take that, Millennials.) Our tour on a makeshift bus (open-air truck with rear seating) took us to sacred, volcanic grounds about fifteen miles from Uturoa where the original native people worshipped numerous gods. According to HeyLouie, a male grand poobah often sacrificed one beautiful woman annually (or maybe even semi-annually?) to these deities. (Talk about a patriarchal culture!) The inhabitants of Raiatea speak three languages (sometimes using all three in the same paragraph): Tahitian, French, and English. Transparent extrovert HeyLouie had no problem sharing his tribe's opinion on the French: "We don't like them. They come, buy the land, and build on it. But they have no respect for it." Sounds like New Yorkers coming to New Jersey to me except there is a lot more land to be had here. Like Havana, Cuba (yes, I was there), Raiatea does not concern itself with an overabundance of technology, probably because (like Cuba), there just isn't all that much cash. Tourism is important, of course. The few merchants in the town peddle mainly black pearls, which are not cheap. Agriculture, fishing, and yacht chartering also contribute to Raiatea's economy. In short, it may just be one of the last truly unspoiled regions in the Pacific open to cruise ships.
Second stop: Moorea: Having twice the population of Raiatea, Moorea is visually stunning with its verdant, sculptural peaks that reach up to the sky like uneven towers above thick jungles and white beaches outlined by transparent turquoise waters. From a distance, it is a feast for the eyes. In contrast, up close, it is an island of much poverty. Here Mother Nature has aesthetic values, whereas humans do not. For the most part, the natives live in small, concrete shacks with metal roofs surrounded by various rotting detritus that their owners don't have the energy to bury somewhere. It is sad. I wound up choosing the wrong tour as the driver pretty much used yesterday's script while we rode in a new, air-conditioned coach bus. Our guide even went by the same prefix of "Hey" as yesterday's director except he was difficult to understand through the P.A. system. The Ma'ohi tribe (apparently related to the Incas) occupied this island from 1250 AD until 1767 when the Europeans came and brought them Christianity as well as deadly diseases. (Don't think I'm equating the two. I'm not.) According to our guide, these people only offered men up as sacrifices to the gods; the women had no role in these religious ceremonies at all. Which pretty much contradicts what HeyLouie had said. So who knows? Each family had its own place of worship, which amounted to a small rectangular area cordoned off by handmade stone walls. The tour bus took 45 of us around the entire island (approximately fifty miles), stopping at noteworthy areas (a pineapple farm and the aforementioned outdoor church) and lookouts to allow us to photograph the best views. My personal favorite sight was of Tahiti in the background and the tiki huts of a hotel hovering over the clear blue waters in the foreground. It made me feel like I was inside an ad for the most surreally romantic place on Earth. That night at dinner, I spoke to passengers who took different excursions. The consensus was that the underwater world experienced via snorkeling the reefs was the most memorable. Shoulda, coulda, woulda.
Third stop: Tahiti: This morning, I opened the doors to the promenade deck (lucky 7) to see that the Coral Princess was berthed beside a compact cruise ship by the name of Paul Gauguin. Yes, Papeete, Tahiti is Gauguin territory. From a distance, the city is a tropical Helsinki, a European version of Honolulu sans the skyscrapers but not without a Burger King (one of the first signs that I noticed on one of the building facades) and a McDonalds. So much for the European flavor. Close-up, it looks more like a Mexican city with touches of Asia, which makes sense since years ago the Chinese came here to help harvest the sugar cane. Our bus tour guide, Heyya (yet another Hey), a petite Tahitian woman wearing a colorful Hawaiian shirt and a white hibiscus flower in one ear spoke perfect English. She told us that Tahiti is a transit destination, where tourists come to catch small planes or ferries to the neighboring islands, particularly Bora Bora. It makes sense because of the three islands, Tahiti is the least attractive when it comes to the natural aspects. The waters and sands are dark and muddied, and the mountains (highest point: 7,000 feet) lack the unique sculpturesque qualities of those in Moorea and Raiatea. However, there is more in the way of history in Tahiti. Other than the waterfall that reminded me of Waimea Falls in Oahu, the stop that held the most interest for me was James Norman Hall's home. James and Charles Nordhoff wrote the classic novel Mutiny on the Bounty; the film rendition starred Marlon Brando, who bought an island in the vicinity. The novel was based on the voyage (and mutiny) of an actual British navel ship, the HMS Bounty, that came to Tahiti to collect breadfruit plants in 1788. Other facts learned from the tour are that James Cook was the first to map Tahiti–he found it by following cumulus clouds–the monetary system is the franc, not the Euro, gas is $1.80 a liter, and the minimum wage is not enough for the people to live on. Sound familiar? It is a lot worse here, though. Unfortunately, we did have time to visit Gauguin's home that is on the other side of the island. Apparently there is a museum being built to honor him. Overall, the tour covered a lot of ground and conveyed information in three hours.
In closing, if you are tempted to visit these drop-dead gorgeous, fantastique islands and have about two weeks off, I would recommend meeting a cruise in Honolulu. Otherwise, you would have to fly in to Tahiti and find transportation from there, which might be complicated unless you can find yourself a smaller cruise ship in Papeete. I haven't done the research, but you might want to as a trip here is worth going the distance.
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