Mo’orea – by Vicki

 The nearby peaks of Mo’orea captured our attention while in Tahiti. We made only one short stop at this amazing island, in Paopao Baie (aka Cook’s Bay). Arriving in the late afternoon the sun casts a soft light over the peaks and created deep shadows in the valleys.

Approaching Cook’s Bay

Another set of peaks viewed from inside the lagoon

The following day of rain squalls alternately hides and then reveals dramatic scenery.

The scene endlessly changing - peaks as shadows in the mist and mountain tops shrouded with clouds.

After rain comes calm.

Development in the bay is low key, though there is a continual flow of traffic along the coast road. Our time is limited but early one morning we ventured on foot up the Paopao Valley or Pineapple Road into the foothills. Along this winding road another set of vistas revealed themselves at each turn.

The pineapple fields flow up and around the foothills creating interesting patterns.

Agriculture does not detract from the natural beauty – tranquil waters, verdant hills, sawtooth ridgelines, clouds racing over mountain tops – many superlatives are required to capture the ambience.

The foothills are densely covered where there is no agriculture

Clouds racing over mountain tops.

If you are wondering, yes we did buy some pineapples! A bundle of 7 very tasty pineapples cost 550 Francs or ~$7AUD.

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Aaah! - by Nina

When your caught short just about any bush will do huh?

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Heiva i Tahiti - by Gary

Our arrival in Tahiti managed to coincide with the end of the annual Tahitian cultural festival Heiva i Tahiti.   The event is competitive and each of the five island groups of French Polynesia enters individuals and groups.  This year featured 14 dance groups, 15 singing groups, untold percussionists, Polynesian artists and artisans, traditional Polynesian sport people such as coconut tree climbers, stone lifters and fruit carriers along with outrigger sailors and paddlers.  We only managed to attend a single event – featuring two Society Island dance and percussion troupes and a troupe of Marquesan singers – what an amazing privilege that was.  For such a small country it is dazzling how much enthusiasm is mustered, particularly among young folks, for their cultural roots.  But even more wonderfully, it’s not just a static regurgitation; passion and creativity applied to choreography, costume, and music along with countless rehearsal hours resulted in us witnessing productions of outstanding quality.  A real WOW experience!

Some of the events we missed!  Next time huh?

But we did see singers!  At times it was difficult to tell how many parts were being sung simultaneously – it was many.

Their traditional mou mous (Mother Hubbard dresses) and fresh flower couronne de tete (head crowns) were eye-catching.

The instrumentation wasn’t all percussion, scattered in there were guitars, ukuleles and even at times a wind instrument (a flute maybe?)...

  

... but the real guts of it comes from the driving beats belted out of these tuned lengths of hollowed timber (centre), creating that distinctive Tahitian sound.

Backstage most of the girls of this company were just about ready!

At times there were upward of 50 dancers in the arena and the level of synchrony achieved by these amateur performers was amazing.

Occasionally the girls would slow down enough to be more than just a blur across the screen of our camera.

There’s a whole lot of high speed hip shaking happening here!  And those costumes; just luscious!

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Fakarava – by Gary

  

Flung across our path between the high islands of the Marquesas and the Society Islands are the Tuamotus, a vast archipelago of low atolls; bizarre undernourished donuts of reef, sand and palm trees encircling calm turquoise lagoons. With our time running short in French Polynesia we only visited the one, Fakarava, entering via the northern pass and anchoring off the village of Rotoava for a couple of days.  Sailing down the length of the lagoon we then anchored overnight beside the southern pass, transiting through it and setting course to Tahiti the next day.  

Fakarava, with our path to and through the atoll showing up in red.

Absolute highlight of our visit was the snorkeling at the southern pass on a rising tide. Riding the incoming rush of crystal clear oceanic waters, we swept past coral walls, caverns and canyons populated by vast colourful, yet forever oppressed citizenry, victims of a grim patrolling army of Black Tipped Sharks.  We’ve done a lot of snorkeling, but this was surely the best (and perhaps scariest) we had ever done; but alas we’ve no photos.  So I’ll have to continue to our runner-up highlight – the church at Rotoava.

Churches have long been associated with peaks of civic design and artistic achievement: master architects, builders, stonemasons, sculptors, painters; on and on the list of big egos goes, often leaving little room for more humble artistic expression from within congregations.  But not this church – here the adoration and devotion of its members is given free expression.  We all just loved the results.

Approaching Rotoava across the lagoon the first thing clearly discernable is the spire of this simple but elegant structure.

Back of the church the graveyard assumes a dramatic feel as a squall passes through.

The church interior:  for my money the timber framed vaulted ceiling is a knockout; sky blue set against white walls.

 

The ceiling is richly decorated with criss-crossing strings of shell bead work ...

... and shell chandeliers of assorted design ...

 

.. intricately detailed.

Embroidered banners hang from walls.

Arrangements of freshly cut flowers in carved wooden bowls scent the air.

The rear of statuary niches feature mother of pearl – pearl farming being the dominant local industry.

The sanctuary is where it all comes together.

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