January 22-23, 2000
Tahiti and Bora Bora
Landing at Papeete, Tahiti on January 22, we did all the right things. We wandered
through the Paul Gauguin Museum. Beautiful. We had a magnificent lunch of breadfruit, poi and cerviche overlooking a turquoise lagoon. Great Polynesian food. We walked through a tropical forest in the botanical garden among an abundance of brilliant orchids, hibiscus, tiara, birds of paradise and more. We got drenched by a massive blast of sea water shooting unexpectedly from a blowhole in the cliffs along the sea. We Tested the mango, coconut, and red prickly fruit known as rambayan. Delicious. And we watched gorgeous Polynesian men and women perform traditional love songs and hula dances of the islands. Sexy.
But my mind was elsewhere. Bora Bora was our next port of call. We would land by zodiac---and my thoughts were centered on what would happen to me after we got there--I was committed to going snorkeling-something I have never done. And I was terrified.
Many people, from my son Doug on up, had encouraged me to do this crazy thing. But as we got closer to the actual event, I got more and more apprehensive. Would I be able to breathe? Would I choke on sea water in a leaking mask? Could I swim well enough to get away from stingrays?
All my shipboard friends joining me that day were experienced snorkelers! They had brought their own equipment, a fact that only added to my anxiety since I had never even put on a mask. But that morning I got into my bathing suit and put a shirt on to protect me from the brilliant South Seas sun and followed the crowd to the dock. Landing by zodiac on the dock, we hopped aboard a motorized outrigger canoe, manned by a gorgeous Polynesian hunk of a driver, whose tattoos and little else adorned most of his body. He sang Polynesian love songs as he steered us around the lush green island of Bora Bora.
We cruised over a crystal clear sea--silvery water that changed to turquoise, periwinkle, or deep aquamarine depending on the depth of the water. Looking toward the island, we saw the native thatched hut suites of the Bora Bora Hotel resting on stilts and rising out of the water beside white ribbons of sandy beaches. The hotel extended out onto a long point in the water, and our guide explained that its rooms had glass sectioned floors so you could lie in bed with water gently lapping beneath your window-like floor and envelop yourself in the tropical sea world beneath you or leave your own private aquarium to snorkel off your own private deck. Once more we said, "This is the best there is," and began plotting how several of us could manage to come back to this island paradise and stay in our own glass house.
Then came the moment of truth I had dreaded. Our outrigger canoe stopped suddenly on the water and "the hunk" said this would be our first snorkeling stop. He told all of us to "jump." JUMP! I thought. Never! He had just told us we'd probably see sharks and stingrays in the water nearby.
But, taking my courage in hand (to avoid humiliation) and mask in place, I sat on the lip of the outrigger, took a deep breath, and jumped into the warm South Pacific Ocean.
And so began perhaps the most fabulous underwater experience I've ever had. I actually could breathe inside the mask, just as my friend Suzy, who snorkeled beside me all day, had assured me. She had said it would be a breeze. And it was.
All that day I snorkeled. The water was wonderful; you could stay in for hours; I did. You could burn to a crisp, and it didn't matter to me. I swam with sharks, stingrays and more!
We landed at the "lagoonarium" and waded to shore through the shallow water onto the beach. There was a large thatched hut on the beach with tables for our gear, and in the water they had stretched netting across large expanses of ocean so that we could snorkel safely through separate sections of water. Swimming among the coral and an incredible variety of brilliant tropical fish--silver, brilliant gold and black, royal blue, and translucent-- we saw beautiful underwater scenes everywhere.
Most incredibly were the stingrays and sharks. You would come upon them suddenly--one or two, or perhaps several in a group. One time I counted seven white sharks swimming just two feet beneath me! I have to admit I was in no special danger---I watched an attendant toss out food underwater to feed the sharks and to keep the snorkelers safe!
There was one special moment I will never forget. As I snorkeled along in partners with Suzy, I saw a giant turtle swim past, and she gestured, "Grab onto it." So I did. And there I was, being pulled through a long expanse of cool clear water by a giant sea turtle. I hung on until he dove for the bottom!
Bora Bora is incredibly beautiful. As we circled the island by outrigger later that day, we agreed that this is THE place to come back to and snorkel in aquamarine waters, drink pisco sours, and feast on fresh mahi mahi, mangos, papaya and pineapple. We understood that tourists can find accommodations ranging from $200 a night to the current cost of about $1500 a night at one of those magnificent glass floored thatched huts in the water Anybody ready to join me?
So, now that I've snorkeled just once, I'm addicted. I'm determined to get my own gear, and I'm ready to go snorkeling with a bunch of people from the ship at several impending stops.
I only have one question: where can we snorkel closer to Washington D.C.?"
Anyone up for going with me when I get home?
