Mo’orea Magic

Today I bought a single use plastic bottle! I am admitting the sin, which does not make it any better, but it does help to alleviate my guilt a little. My plan was to reuse it on my travels back to the USA to attend my daughter’s graduation, but the staff at the Oyster party here in Moorea tidied it away before I noticed. It will probably end up in the ocean. I suppose each of us has committed a similar transgression at least once. That makes for a lot of plastic bottles bobbing in the pristine waters of the world.  Now that we, onboard Irene IV, have experienced the glories of nature in such profusion, we are even more militant with respect to the products we use, the waste we create and what happens to them next. I am heartened to read in the Oceanic Society newsletter, about California’s action to reduce microplastic pollution. “This leading-edge Statewide Microplastics Strategy identifies early actions and research priorities to reduce microplastic pollution in California’s marine environment.” The same newsletter draws attention to an exciting idea, from experts at the University of Exeter and the University of Queensland, where they “suggest a new internationally applicable labelling system that moves focus from recyclability to sustainability, is specific to the country and region of purchase and informs the public about plastic additive content.”

In this part of the world, and in most of the islands we have visited over the past 4 months, recycling is a problem. So, it is our responsibility to provision mindfully - not always easy to do, but we should never give up.

When we last spoke, we were in Rangiroa sipping wine. We are now in Mo’orea sipping wine and downing gallons of local rum punch at an Oyster gathering in a private house on the shores of Opunohu Bay. Kellum House is reputed to be the oldest house in French Polynesia. The original owner, his grandson now lives here, was a philanthropic environmentalist. He owned the whole valley at one time, he gifted it to the government on condition that most of the land be used for agricultural purposes. The party gave us a taste of some of the locally grown delicious produce, as well as local arts and crafts, (we made a personalized pareos (sarongs)), and local sporting activities (we had outrigger canoe races). 

Mo’orea is an island in the Society Island Archipelago, 24nm northwest of Tahiti. Arrival here was quite a culture shock – paved roads, traffic, people, noise – after the tranquil calm of the Tuamotu Archipelago. With a mere 3 of us onboard, at this point, life is simple and peaceful. Dining at the Mo’orea Beach Café, with its delicious menu and unbelievably extensive wine list, confirmed our suspicion that this island is the playground of the French rich. The drama of the landscape is reminiscent of the Marquesan Archipelago. Here the islands are slightly older, the volcanic mountains still rise tall and shear, but, unlike the Maquesas, a coral reef surrounds the entire island forming a barrier reef. There are a few passes through the reef leading to a narrow lagoon within. Wherever a river descends through a gorge to the sea there is a pass. The fresh water kills the coral, creating a gap in the solid reef. The island is lush and verdant, with the exotic textures of a tropical rainforest. The hillsides are swathed in umbrella canopies of Acacia coming into bloom with peach and ruby blossoms. Pineapple plantations dot the steep slopes, defying gravity. The ubiquitous coconut palms sway in the gentle breeze, always with a whisper of “will I, won’t I” drop a coconut on your head! A trip up Faaroa, Magic Mountain, with Gérard, of Albert Tours, gave us a glorious view of the reef, its passes, the peaked volcanic outcrops and the sunken calderas. Apart from a small incident of dragging anchor in the night, which had Irene IV within a hair of the hard crusty reef, we were, to a person, charmed by this majestic island.