Advertisement
Published: March 1st 2012
Edit Blog Post
For most of us it was probably an illustration in a book or perhaps a movie. A glimpse of a sandy beach, nodding palm trees and the surf crashing on a reef off shore. There might even have been a black hulled schooner bobbing at anchor…waiting for her next adventure. For the rest of our lives, especially on cold winter days, those images come flooding back when we hear the word “paradise”.
Don't despair…I can safely tell you that paradise does exist. It isn’t pristinely pure but it’s all here. The beautiful azure water, the surf pounding on the barrier reef, riots of colorful fish, powdery white sand, palm trees, and the scent of flowers in the air to name just a few of the pleasures.
We have visited islands in the last couple of months whose names always bring to mind that word paradise: Moorea, Bora Bora, Huahine, Raiatea and Tahiti…and some others that most of us never hear about…Hiva Oa, Nuku Hiva, Tahuata and Rangiaroa. I have a much better understanding of Gauguin and Fletcher Christian now.
A day spent in the village of Hapatoni on the island of Tahuata in the Marquesas group is as
good an example as any. Imagine how you would react if 686 people arrived unannounced at your front door at breakfast. We had tried to anchor at another location around 7am but the swells were too high to do so safely. The captain picked Hapatoni from the chart and 45 minutes later the hook was down in the most beautiful bay imaginable. We could see a handful of people scurrying about the tiny village but other than a single sail boat the bay was empty.
There has most likely been a village here for at least a thousand years if not twice that. Lush greenery seemed to flow down the steep hillsides to a narrow rocky beach with a scattering of houses tucked here and there…three outriggers pulled up on the grass seemed to echo another time. In a green clearing a tiny church stood out with splashes of color from the flowers on the nearby graveyard. Coconut palms were everywhere and waves crunched gently on the shore…the frothing water a white necklace around the bay.
A tiny breakwater and pier just big enough for the tender offered the only way ashore. As we walked from the
pier no one knew what to expect…after all, only about 150 people live here and cruise liners seldom visit. There were no trinket sellers or tour guides waiting. Off to one side was a ramshackle shed with stacks of burlap bags filled with copra (dried coconut husks). The effect of the shimmering heat heightened the feeling of walking through a time portal into something out of Adventures in Paradise.
As we walked along the path towards the center of the village a large Polynesian woman in a bright red pareo waved and shouted a welcome as she hung her laundry on a line. Dogs lolled in the shade of huge hibiscus bushes covered with red, pink and orange blossoms and the scent of frangipani filled the air. Roosters crowed and the sound of the sea was a gentle background hum.
A ten minute walk took us by stands of banana, papaya and large mango trees winding around houses and then eventually back along the beach to the village meeting house. The villagers had set up an impromptu market to showcase some of their creations. Women were still arriving with trays of fresh fruit, fried breadfruit and other
delicacies from their kitchens as welcoming gifts for the passengers. As we walked around the tables under the thatched roof admiring the carvings and jewelry we were greeted everywhere with welcoming smiles from these charming people.
Off to one side , sitting in a chair by an open window was a beautiful young woman nursing a baby… the soft light bathing the scene into a natural Gauguin painting…it was easy to appreciate the attraction of these beautiful people, this light and the color here to an artist.
Just down the path, past the little school I spent a wonderful hour with renowned woodcarver Milton in his little workshop… open to the sea breeze with sweeping views around the bay. He showed me how he joins a swordfish bill and a piece of wood to create stylized war clubs. He covers the clubs with intricate carvings reflecting Polynesian motifs.
We moved about the village and the nearby hills in quiet groups…everyone bewitched and smiling as the afternoon past. This is as close to paradise as I suspect I will ever get.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.092s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 10; qc: 47; dbt: 0.0395s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
ben feuer
non-member comment
miss you
Harry, a joy to read.love to connie..