June 25, 2002

16°37'S, 151°33'W
Tapuamu Bay, Tahaa, The Society Islands

Full Moon in Tahaa                      

Pacific Bliss is anchored deep in Tapuamu Bay at 71 feet, gently pulling on 150 feet of chain, and swaying to the beat of the drums coming from the shore. We think that the noise is emanating from the well-lit shed on shore-the one with the corrugated tin roof. All of French Polynesia is practicing now for the Heiva, the July festival and competition. that celebrates the Maohi culture. The fast Tahitian beat is interspersed with the mellow sounds of Luke strumming on his guitar. He is seated at the pulpit seat at the bow, a black profile in the light of the full moon as the boat swings Otherwise, all is calm on this glorious night.

Silhouette of Luke Under a Full Moon

We are satiated after a perfect day. We dropped the hook here last night as well, having arrived here at dusk from a motu anchorage on the east side of Tahaa. After breakfast, we motored two miles west from this bay to an islet called Tautau . (A new hotel is being built there, with the typical thatched-roof bungalows built on a dock over the water. I would imagine that the guests will fly into Raiatea to be ferried across to their Tahaa motu retreat. Raiatea and Tahaa share the same reef system, so the ride would be easy in the protected lagoon.)

The two dinghies, Petit Bliss and Mokoquette, loaded with snorkeling gear, took our crews to the shallow water between the small islet and an even smaller motu. Snorkeling there in the channel was like floating through an exquisite coral garden, following a path through an intricately planned aquarium. The path was carpeted with the usual muted brown, gold, and orange coral, occasionally interrupted by bright yellow and lavender formations. While winding my way through the schools of fish, all of a sudden skull-size, bright orange-fuschia object startled me. A brain with wiggling mop hair! Golden-orange, aquarium-sized fish with a white stripe cordoning off their heads darted in and out of the swaying mop head.

Later I looked it up in "The Snorkeler's Guide to the Coral Reef", by Paddy Ryan. It turns out that the yellow and orange fish are called anemonefish and the mopped head creature is a variety of anemone, on that none of us had seen before. The fish nest down into their host anemone to find a safe haven. They acquire immunity from their host's deadly stings by slowly covering themselves with a layer of mucus from the host anemone. The benefit to the anemone is not clear, but perhaps the fish lures predators close enough for it to deliver a killing sting with its tentacles.

A geometric fish-quartered in red and blue panels in the front, and yellow and white with blue stripe in the back, that Janice dubbed "Picasso Fish" would dart out now and then, among the thousands of spiny black sea urchins and charcoal sea cucumbers. The sun split the clear green waters into prisms, intensifying the kaleidoscopic colors of the fish and coral. The lagoon there is never over 7-10 feet, so as the sun's rays bounce off the sandy bottom they provide a surrealistic glow.

Later, the Guide revealed that the "Picasso Fish" was really a species of goatfish dubbed the "half-and-half goatfish, parupeneus barberinoides. The sensitive barbels tucked under the chin and lower portion of the gill helps it to find prey under sand or rubble.

Motu sunset

After the snorkeling trip and a fresh water shower on the swim platform, the crew of Pacific Bliss was ravenous. We inhaled wonderful grilled steaks (from the Papeete market), two vegetable salads and one fruit salad prior to succumbing to a long afternoon siesta.

Yesterday, we took Giuliano, the croissant man, up on his offer to visit his restaurant on Motu Atara. Petite Bliss was loaded to the brim with five passengers, their snorkeling gear, and a change of clothes. She crawled through the waves to the motu. The snorkeling was marginal there, necessitating walking through a long shallow, stony area to get to the reef. But the island itself was idyllic and charming. The proprietors, it turns out, are Swiss, and yearned for a less structured life. They found it by leasing the operation on Atara. As their parents served lunch, their two little girls ran, naked and free, through the restaurant and splashed into the sea. What a way to grow up!

Lois and Gunter with Giuliano and Severine Tagnetti.


Lunch at Atara

Yachts through the trees.

 

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