SOUTH PACIFIC ADVENTURE – PART V

The first time we heard French spoken by the locals on this trip was in Luganville, Vanuatu. French is the second language in that country, a holdover from colonial times when the islands, then called the New Hebrides, were jointly governed by England and France. We had no difficulty finding people who spoke French in Vanuatu. As the Amsterdam docked in Luganville, a band played vaguely familiar tunes on instruments you’d see in the Ozarks: banjo, guitar, mandolin, and wash-tub base. The tunes sounded like a mixture of Hillbilly and Cajun; lively, and music to my ears. I wished I’d had the time to inquire and learn where the music came from, and why it sounded familiar.

Not surprisingly, people here in French Polynesia speak French as their first or second language, making us feel very much at home wherever we went. The day we visited Moorea, we took a tour of the island accompanied by our guide and driver, Mami, a sixty-something local who looked like she’d led an interesting life. Of course, I spoke to her in French and then it hit me: her accent sounds like the Cajuns of Louisiana! Of course, I have no explanation for these two observations but it does raise a question. How could it be that accents and music sound alike halfway around the world? Coincidence? Or something else…

The island of Moorea lies eighteen kilometers north of Tahiti. High school students and workers travel back and forth from Pape’ete by ferry every day. The view from the ship was spectacular. From the pier, Mami drove us to the belvedere, a high point of land that offered a spectacular view of Opunohu Bay and its neighbour, Cooks Bay. In the photo, our ship is on the left and the Paul Gaugin is on the right. We could see pineapple fields on the lower slopes of the mountain in the center. We stopped briefly at an agriculture trade school (lycée agricole) and this beautiful young lady served us fresh pineapple juice.

Moorea is definitely first-world. There are high-end resorts on the island, like the one shown in the photo below, and tourism is the most important industry. The coastal road is brand new and features nice cycling lanes on both sides. It’s a place we’d come back to visit; every bit as nice as Hawai’i.

Just before our round-the-island tour ended, a fellow passenger asked Mami if people of Chinese origin lived on Moorea. “Yes”, she replied. “And they own many of the small businesses.” Without missing a beat, Mami said: “For us Polynesians, family is everything. We are never alone. You won’t find any nursing homes here because families look after their parents. In the old days, we even buried our relatives in the front yard (dans la cour). For the Chinese, it’s different. Even if they have only one friend, they’re happy. As long as they have money.” Maybe not a politically correct answer, but a very informative one. It wasn’t the first time on this trip that we’d felt the culture clash between native and non-native.

Our next stop, Rangiroa, is a very large atoll, looking from above like a necklace of coral islands surrounding a central lagoon. The lagoon measures roughly 60 by 30 kilometers while the islands themselves are only about 500 meters across. Some 2,700 people live on the island in two villages on either side of the main channel between the ocean and the lagoon. The principal activities for tourists are scuba diving and snorkeling. I don’t do scuba and Elva doesn’t much like the water. Besides, having snorkeled on four of the top reefs in the world—off Belize, the Galapagos Islands, and Australia’s Great Barrier and Ningaloo Reefs—I was not likely to be impressed.

We chose to walk from the pier along the main road to the public beach where I had a dip. We stopped at a nice resort to see if we could get wifi in exchange for something from the restaurant. They told us politely to get lost! So, we asked at a small pension and were welcomed like long-lost family. The lady there offered us a large bottle of water and refused to accept anything in payment. Which one do you think we’d recommend? Some business practices remain a mystery to me.

The Amsterdam could not anchor in the Rangiroa lagoon as the water was too deep. Instead, the Captain punched in longitude and latitude and her engines and propellers kept her in the same spot all day, against changes in wind and currents. When the time came to leave for our next port of call, she turned and slipped out of the very narrow channel just as slick as could be. We watched from the Crow’s Nest Bar on Deck 9 as she shot through the gap, a pod of dolphins frolicking just off her bow.

Fakarava, the second-largest atoll in Polynesia and the administrative center of the Tuamotu-Gambier group of islands, was our next port of call. We found wifi at the local tourist information center and learned that our brother-in-law, Greg Pritchard, husband of Elva’s sister, Rose, had passed away the day before. It was not unexpected news as Greg had been fighting a long battle with cancer.

We walked through the village to the pretty Catholic church to attend Mass. The interior is brightly painted and decorated with shells and coral. We watched it fill as people came in, most of them in family groups, many of them greeting one another with a kiss on the cheek or forehead.

Mass was celebrated by laypersons, une Messe blanche, in both the local language and in French. The music was incredible; no need for a choir since everyone sang and the sound of their beautiful voices filled the little church. People were so joyful and we found the whole experience very moving. Our thoughts were of course with the Pritchard family. We wished Greg fair winds and calm seas on his journey and, for Rose and her family, good memories and the strength to carry on without him.

Back in the center of the village of Rotoava where most islanders live, I rented the best bike I could find: a ladies’ coaster-brake type with a seat broad enough for a brood mare and a grocery basket on the front. Elva was battling a bad cold and decided against the ride. With a temperature of 30 degrees C and a humidity above 80%, it was wedgie weather.

I headed North toward the Passe Garuae, the opening in the atoll through which our ship had entered the sheltered lagoon earlier that morning. I pedaled past the airport on a rough cement road and, when it ended, kept going on the coral track. The track ended at the Passe, at about the 10-km mark. I turned around and headed back, straight into a wall of water as the heavens opened. Jesus, did it pour! Looking like a drowned rat, I returned the clunker and paid the owner with a soaked 1,000-franc bill. She laughed at my misfortune and so did I.

Life is for the living and, on many days, it’s the simple things that make it interesting. While I didn’t join the many who snorkeled and saw coral, fish and sharks in the UNESCO Natural Biosphere Reserve around Fakarava, I had my own unique experiences. Two of them in fact! Adventures like these make travel memorable and me a very lucky guy!

Our last port of call on this voyage was the small town of Taiohae on the island of Nuka Hiva, largest of the Marquesas Islands. The twelve islands that make up this most isolated group in French Polynesia are home to about 10,000 people, and Taiohae is the administrative center. There were many reminders that we were very much in France: La Poste, Le Bureau du Haut commissaire, La Mairie, Le Lycée agricole, etc. Residents are French citizens, they vote in the French presidential election, and French Polynesia has two representatives in the Sénat. Quite a contrast with the citizens of American Samoa who have none of these rights.

We spent the day wandering around the pretty town, enjoyed excellent wifi and incredible views at the Pearl Lodge, and took advantage of our last few hours on solid ground before seven days at sea. Elva and I have learned through experience that getting to know a place on foot can be just as interesting as driving around an island, listening to a guide drone on in an accent you can barely understand, spouting trivia you’ll never remember. Nuku Hiva is known for its carvings, wood and stone. Some of the best are found in the church (shown in the first photo), and on a promontory overlooking the harbour stands the eight-meter monstrosity shown in the second photo. She looks like she means business, in both senses of the word!

Just before returning to the ship, I stood in front of a restaurant to see if I could connect to wifi. An employee came out the driveway, rolled down her window and, as we say on my island, put the run to me! They don’t like people stealing their signal. The people in the photo below had been doing the same earlier in the day. It’s what Elva calls “La chasse au wifi”.

The last seven days onboard the Amsterdam went by quickly. After breakfast on a sea day, we usually attended a lecture to learn about this part of the world. Some of what I learned in those lectures I’ve written about in this blog. I now know the difference between Micronesia, Melanesia, and Polynesia, and a bit of the history and culture of the people who live there.

These people live with one foot on land and one in the sea. While we may see the Pacific Ocean as menacing and impenetrable, they see it as a highway, just as their ancestors did. In Taiohae, we spoke to a couple of guys at their boat club and they explained all about their pirogues, racing outriggers that hold two, three or four paddlers. At several ports, we watched guys in outrigger canoes race to catch a tender and, if their timing was right, coast on its wake all the way to the pier.

This has been an incredible voyage to a part of the world we knew very little about. We’ve enjoyed the people, the sights, the ocean and, of course, the weather. The highlights have been Hawai’i and French Polynesia. They are the two destinations we’d return to for a second visit. Fifty-one days may sound like a long time to be on a ship but it goes by in a flash. There’s always something to do, you meet interesting people, and you spend quality time together. In fact, one day for each of the fifty-one years Elva and I have been best friends!

As I take one last look at the Amsterdam docked in San Diego, it seems she’s sitting a bit lower in the water than when we boarded on October 28. And I think I know why. We’ve all put on weight! They should have weighed all passengers when we boarded, totaled the result, and did the same when we got off. Time to get back on the bike…

SOUTH PACIFIC ADVENTURE – PART IV

“The cruise ship is the destination!” I’d never heard the expression before but now I’m beginning to understand. Just as RVing is a lifestyle, so is cruising. On this South Pacific journey, we’re in the minority. Well over half the passengers have been to this part of the world before on cruises; some as many as seven times! Repeat visitors see the ship as destination. Many don’t even bother getting off at some of the ports we visit. “I’ve been here three times before. Nothing left to see,” one guy explained. Still, staying aboard seems a bit of a waste to those of us who see the ship as a means of comfortable conveyance from one adventure to another. Elva and I will have spent 263 days on Holland America ships by the end of this cruise but we’re rookies compared to many.

Niue (pronounced New-Eye) and the Cook Islands lie between Tonga and French Polynesia. We were supposed to call at the tiny island nation of Niue, population 1,500, but couldn’t dock because of the weather. It wasn’t looking much better for Rarotonga, largest of the Cook Islands and its main town, Avarua. The tenders that took us from the ship to the town’s dock bobbed up and down like rubber duckies in a bathtub but we managed to get there and back safely. And the rain held off just long enough for us to visit the island and the town.

It being a Sunday and Rarotongans being God-fearing people, almost every business was closed and every church filled to the brim. Fortunately, the local bus was running so we hopped on for the 32-kilometer round-the-island ride. The contrast with the other island countries we’d visited on this trip was evident: better bus, better road, nicer homes, nice resorts, etc. Back in Avarua, we strolled around the pretty town, encountering locals on their way to the Cook Islands Christian Church, both men and women clad entirely in white. They explained that they always dress in white on the first Sunday of the month. Everyone we met was very friendly.

Cook Islands is a self-governing nation, having obtained its independence in 1965, and has a population of 16,000. It maintains an association with New Zealand, relying on it for defense and international relations. Cook Islanders are also residents of New Zealand—many of them work there—but the reverse doesn’t apply. So, I guess we’ll have to add Cook Islands to our list of countries visited.

The connection between Rarotongo and Aorotoroa (New Zealand) goes back many years. Archaeological evidence shows that seven vakas, hundred-meter-long double-hulled outrigger vessels, left Rarotonga around the year 1250 AD and sailed some 2,750 kilometers over open ocean, landing on the North Island in present-day western New Zealand. (By comparison, Christopher Columbus’ 1492 voyage was about 3,500 kilometers.) The evidence—including, remarkably, remains of one of the vakas found recently in New Zealand—confirms oral history accounts of the voyage. So, the Maori of Rarotonga and New Zealand are cousins. Fascinating stuff!

I asked the owner of a jewelry store whose family has deep roots on Rarotonga what advantages self-governance had brought. “Imagine this,” he said. “We have free education, free health care, and free dental care; the level of unemployment is negative; we have zero homelessness; and we pay no land tax. No one works too hard here and we live a good life. What more could you ask for.” Indeed! I’d read that the Cook Islands economy depends heavily on tourism and, to a lesser extent, on financial services. “Yes,” he said. “If you want to hide your money, this is one of the best places in the world to do it.” Out of curiosity, I checked per capita GDP figures for Cook Islands and compared it to the other South Pacific countries we’ve visited; it’s three times that of the next highest, Fiji.

The lagoon of Bora Bora has a reputation, well deserved, for being one of the most beautiful in the world. The colours of the water, the necklace-like string of surrounding islets (motus), waving coconut palms on white sand beaches, all combine to create a tropical dream tableau. Our ship anchored in the sheltered harbour of the town of Viatape and we tendered into the small dock. Mount Otemanu, at 770 meters, towered above the town. It’s an extinct volcano that created the island 7 million years ago.

Elva and I had decided we wanted to see the island; we just weren’t sure how. Round-the-island taxi tours were a dime a dozen but we chose the first car rental agency we came to. I’d spied a few scooters out front and thought that would be fun. Our business concluded, we set off on the 20 km ring road, taking in the beauty of the main island, the lagoon, and the motus. The bungalows that stretch out over the water are part of resorts, the kind that will set you back $1,000 a night, give or take…

The scooter, a 50-cc three-wheeled contraption, was a fun ride but I soon dubbed her the “cockeyed gutless wonder”. Cockeyed because on a scooter with two rear wheels, you have to lean on the outside wheel going around a curve to get the damn thing to turn! Very confusing for an old motorcycle rider like me. Gutless because, with just a 50-cc motor, the poor little thing couldn’t manage a 10% grade; we had to walk her up. Thank goodness there was only one. We drove around the island twice, once each way, stopping many times for photos and a swim in the bathtub-warm water, and thoroughly enjoyed our short visit to Bora Bora.

Our second stop in the Society Islands was the town of Uturoa on the island of Raiatea. Like Bora Bora, Raiatea and its sister island, Taha’a, are volcanic in origin and surrounded by coral atolls. We wanted to tour the island and visit the UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Taputapuatea Marea. Raiatea is known as the Sacred Island and the cradle of 1,000 years of Maori civilization in eastern Polynesia. The mareas (one of which is shown in the photo below) are actually open-air temples built of stone and coral and, before the Christian era, they were used for ceremonial purposes.

Again, we resorted to the two-wheel solution but, this time, we rented a 125-cc scooter. Two wheels were definitely easier to handle than three and the extra horsepower came in handy on the steep grades. The shore road measured 100 km and we were treated to magnificent vistas around almost every turn. In fact, we found Raiatea to be more beautiful than Bora Bora. Even the roadsides were interesting: water lilies growing in ditches and manicured shrubs planted along the shoulders. But two days in the saddle had brought on a serious case of “scooter-butt” and I was glad to turn in the little Peugeot when the time came. 

La Polynésie française is a French Overseas Territory consisting of 118 islands with a total land area about half of Prince Edward Island’s and a population of 275,000, half of whom live in the capital Pape’ete on the Island of Tahiti. We opted for a walking city tour of Pape’ete, reasoning that we’d had enough road time for awhile. Besides, it was pouring rain when we got off the ship in the morning. The city is clearly the commercial center 

of La Polynésie française. Although it does have that first-world feel to it, Pape’ete lacks the charm of other places we’ve visited on this cruise. The traffic is frantic, buildings are a bit run down, and we saw many homeless people on the streets.

We strolled the beautiful grounds of the Assemblée nationale (second photo) and learned a bit about the islands’ history. A French possession since the mid-eighteenth century, the territory has fought for and gained greater autonomy over the years. The fifty-seven members of l’Assemblée nationale have considerable authority over the islands’ governance. Just the same, the senior representative of the French government lives in a palatial structure next door, a constant reminder that Paris is keeping an eye on things.

There was a market near where the Amsterdam docked and Elva did some business with this very nice family. Tomorrow, we sail to the neighbouring island of Moorea.

SOUTH PACIFIC ADVENTURE – PART III

Our third stop in Fiji was Dravuni Island. Barely three kilometres long and five hundred meters wide, it’s a pocket paradise. Two hundred or so call the island home and benefit greatly from regular cruise ship visits. Unlike Tabuaeron however, the crafts for sale are not locally made. We enjoyed our day there, starting with a morning hike to the highest point on the island from where the view is incredible. In the afternoon, I rented snorkeling gear and spent an enjoyable two hours doing something I used to enjoy when I was a young gaffer, swimming.

There are no vehicles on the island, so people travel walk along paths to get from place to place. Some islanders fish, some tend small fruit tree orchards; all lead a simple life and seem quite happy. The contrast with Suva on Fiji’s big island could not be more pronounced. It’s nice to know there are still places like these on our crowded planet.

Known as “Sugar City”, Lautaka is Fiji’s second-largest. It boasts one of the southern hemisphere’s biggest sugar refineries. After three busy days, we’d decided to take it easy by walking into town, checking in by wifi with family and friends, and doing a bit of shopping. A narrow-gauge railway runs through the heart of town transporting sugar cane to the expansive mill.

Since we left Hawai’i, wifi has been hard to come by, and when we did find it, very slow. The slow speed is due to infrastructure deficiencies. Most annoying is that we had to pay for it, one way or another, wherever we went. While it’s a modest building, Charlottetown’s cruise terminal offers free wifi, a blessing to visitors and crew members and one I’m sure they appreciate.

After a sea day, the ship docked at the western-most point of our journey, the small city of Luganville, population 13,000, second-largest of the Republic of Vanautu. During World War II, the US built a base on the island of Espiritu Santo, second only to Hawai’i’s Pearl Harbour in terms of size and importance; 500,000 Allied troops passed through there at its height. Author James Michener wrote Tales of the South Pacific based on his stay in Luganville.

We’d decided to visit a traditional village and were welcomed by a friendly woman, Celia, our tour guide, and by fierce young men who challenged us as we entered the village of Loweton. Like the Maori of New Zealand, they tried to scare us away. Once inside the recreated village, we learned about the old ways. Celia and her family moved to Santo from the nearby Banks Islands for better health care for her diabetic husband and better education for their four children.

We watched as Celia’s son prepared kava, the traditional island beverage. Someone asked him what he wanted to become when older. Without hesitation, he replied: “I want to become the Chief!” Women and young girls performed the women’s dance; men and young boys performed the men’s version. Finally, we attended a performance of water music, a unique form of entertainment by eight women who, with only their hands, used water as a percussive instrument to make sounds that had to be heard to be believed.

Vanuatu became an independent country in 1980. It consists of eighty-three islands with a total land area slightly larger than Prince Edward Island and a population of 260,000. The economy is based on export of coconut products and tourism; flying time from Brisbane, Australia, is only 2.5 hours.

We spent a day in Port Vila, walking into town 3 kilometers or so from the ship on a Sunday. The city looks and feels like the capital of a poor country. There are nice places along the waterfront, like the Grand Hotel and Casino and the Iririki Resort, and a few Australian tourists walked with us along the seaside promenade. But, look a little closer and you see signs of questionable choices, like the empty and over-the-top convention center (constructed with the aid of Chinese money) and the very quiet Parliament Building shown in the photos below. Still, Vanuatu has a couple of claims to fame: it became the first country to outlaw the sale of single-use plastics in 2018, and its people are said to be among the happiest in the world.

Our third stop in Vanuatu was a beach day on Mystery Island. As with several other stops on this cruise, we traveled from the ship to the dock on tenders, the ship’s lifeboats doing double duty. The tiny island is bisected by a grass airstrip, built by the US in World War II to serve as a refueling station. It was another nice beach day.

Nuku’alofa is the capital of Tonga, the only place in the South Pacific islands we visited that has never been colonized. The country is made up of 176 islands, with a total land area about one-tenth the size of Prince Edward Island, and is home to just over 100,000 people. While Tonga is run by a government elected by the people, the monarchy, 1,000 years old, still plays an important role in Tongan society. Over one-quarter of the country’s population lives in the capital city. We spent most of the day walking around the city, and Elva found some nice Mabé pearl jewelry. The beautiful house in the photo is the Royal Palace.

Our next stop was Neiafu on the beautiful island of Vava’u, Tonga, a place pretty close to paradise. The ship anchored in a channel surrounded by tropical forest and we tendered into the town jetty. While not rich by any means, it’s a comfortable place with friendly people, surrounded by the most beautiful water vistas one can imagine. I could see myself spending a month here, immersing myself in the local culture, doing a little fishing, a little snorkeling, and generally just chilling out. We walked all around the town, talking to some of the locals like these two women preparing material for mats and a man working on Mabé pearl jewelry.

 

It’s interesting to hear experts talk about the history of the islands and island countries we’ve visited so far. They use terms like “discovered”, “took possession of”, “colonized”, “evangelized”, and “captured” in reference to Europeans, Japanese and Americans. In reality, all of the South Pacific islands were discovered and colonized by people who became today’s Micronesians, Melanesians and Polynesians. They certainly didn’t give up their homelands willingly. Thankfully, the traditional role of the chief has been retained in this part of the world, regardless of the form of central government. Modern forms of government alone do not work here.

Four of the five countries we discovered on this journey—Kiribati, Samoa, Fiji, and Vanuatu—chose to cut ties with colonial powers and go their own way. Tonga never was colonized and was ruled for 1,000 years by a King. American Samoa enjoys a certain degree of autonomy, though the US would not likely give up its right to such a strategic harbour for military purposes. Niue and Rarotonga are self-governing islands with ties to New Zealand. Residents of New Caledonia, a nearby French possession we didn’t visit, are voting on the question of sovereignty right now. French Polynesia remains an overseas department of France. And then there’s China, its expansionist aspirations casting a shadow over the whole region.

I’ve always been fascinated by how people are governed, to what extent they make their own societal and economic choices, and how successfully they do so. My all-too-brief experiences in the South Pacific have shown me once again that there is no “right” way.

During this phase of the journey, we crossed the International Date Line three times and sailed across the equator. We lost a day between American Samoa and Samoa but get it back between Tonga and Niue. I realized as I examined the world atlas that we’ve now traveled in each of the world’s twenty-four time zones, either by land or sea. Not bad for a snot-nosed kid from Wellington!