Raroia Atoll, Tuamotu Archipelago, French Polynesia
Blue water, white sand and coconut trees bent under their heavy load of leaves and fruit. At a glance the trees could be well-tanned women working in a field far, far away, under a strong tropical sun with their gay green hats fluttering in the wind. We visited a small village, on a Sunday, very quiet, even for here, French Polynesia under a soft sky with puffy little clouds. This is no tourist stop, there are no souvenir stands, and no primal calypso beat, just island life, slow and much older than most of our world.
On our way back to the National Geographic Endeavour, in our Zodiacs, the water sparkles and cool drops dance across warm skin like a delight and an invitation. From the Zodiac, the light green water is sand, brown and khaki is coral, dark blue is the deep ocean and the bright darting colors, greens, blues, yellow and reds, those would be fish, more garish than any native cloth. I bend over the side of the Zodiac for a better look and see myself, in the water, no, I see myself under the water with the coral and the fish. And that is about all it takes as most of us grab flippers and masks for snorkeling, while others prepare scuba gear.
For the divers, we head for the outer reef where there is a bit of current, don’t fight it, just relax and watch the wonders drift by. Butterfly fish of many kinds, colors and patterns, gently pick at the coral, while the more powerful parrot fish bite and scrape, and outraged damsel fish frantically swim and dart, all in vain, to protect their vague gardens. Then a different feeling as a white-tipped reef shark undulates across the reef, watching, but trying to look uninterested, like a celebrity at an important party, a Mardi Gras really and here’s a picture of one of the dancers, a lion fish: frilly, pretty and very poisonous too. Look, but don’t touch and then it is gone as we swirl away so we are not late for the next party, a dinner on deck beneath the stars.
Blue water, white sand and coconut trees bent under their heavy load of leaves and fruit. At a glance the trees could be well-tanned women working in a field far, far away, under a strong tropical sun with their gay green hats fluttering in the wind. We visited a small village, on a Sunday, very quiet, even for here, French Polynesia under a soft sky with puffy little clouds. This is no tourist stop, there are no souvenir stands, and no primal calypso beat, just island life, slow and much older than most of our world.
On our way back to the National Geographic Endeavour, in our Zodiacs, the water sparkles and cool drops dance across warm skin like a delight and an invitation. From the Zodiac, the light green water is sand, brown and khaki is coral, dark blue is the deep ocean and the bright darting colors, greens, blues, yellow and reds, those would be fish, more garish than any native cloth. I bend over the side of the Zodiac for a better look and see myself, in the water, no, I see myself under the water with the coral and the fish. And that is about all it takes as most of us grab flippers and masks for snorkeling, while others prepare scuba gear.
For the divers, we head for the outer reef where there is a bit of current, don’t fight it, just relax and watch the wonders drift by. Butterfly fish of many kinds, colors and patterns, gently pick at the coral, while the more powerful parrot fish bite and scrape, and outraged damsel fish frantically swim and dart, all in vain, to protect their vague gardens. Then a different feeling as a white-tipped reef shark undulates across the reef, watching, but trying to look uninterested, like a celebrity at an important party, a Mardi Gras really and here’s a picture of one of the dancers, a lion fish: frilly, pretty and very poisonous too. Look, but don’t touch and then it is gone as we swirl away so we are not late for the next party, a dinner on deck beneath the stars.
