Adventures in paradise

With the house and beach restored, other adventures could now be planned.


Kings, celebrated the First Sunday after New Year, was hosted at Jane's over in Cooks Bay. A special cake is produced for the day, a cake of such sweetness many people can only eat a tiny slither.



Hidden in the cake, a bit like the six-pence in the old Christmas pudding, is a tiny baby in a basket. The theory is that who-ever finds the 'Baby Jesus' is then King for the day and waited upon by all other members of the family.



Last year I found the tiny crib which still nestled in my camera case having travelled all the way around the world and back again. This year Peter was the lucky finder! (Which had nothing to do with the fact that we ate half the cake between us!!) The two 'babies' were introduced and returned to my camera case for another year.



As we sat around the table on the verandah watching the rain fall steadily a few feet away but thankful for the lack of mosquitoes in the drizzle, Jane remarked again on the difference in size between Pape and Peter. The obvious difference of bulk was overshadowed by the difference in heigh when sitting.



The afternoon passed happily and discussions about cars abounded. Pape had bought himself a white Rover during my absence and was keen to discuss its pros and cons with Peter. Jane was also in need of a newer car and Peters advice was sort. As the afternoon progressed plans were made to have a morning out car gazing!!!



A few days later, with the sun beaming in true tropical style we all set out in Papes pride and joy to the garage by the Airport to see if we could find something suitable for Jane. Four doors, reliable and small were her only stipulations as we wandered around the forecourt of the local garage looking at the various cars on display.



Two door, reliable and small was found but no four doors. Peter examined the engine, the body work and took us all for a test drive but four doors she had her heart set on so we continued to look.



By the end of the week we had discovered that four doors, reliable and small just was not available on the Island but our return to the sweet two door reliable and small car proved to be in vain as the garage owners wife had suddenly taken a shine to the sweet little car out on the forecourt and had claimed it for her own. By the time I left the Island two months later we had still not found a car for Jane but we had had great fun looking!!


Peters Birthday was spent at the Hilton eating crepes over the lagoon and searching for sharks in the shallow water.



Dinner was superb, as it always is, and an after dinner stroll found us in one of the hammocks on the beach.



The last time we had tried to climb into a hammock together, back on the beach at the house, we had got hopelessly stuck and it had taken us a good five minutes of laughter to extract ourselves from the swinging, wrapping material.



These hammocks were strung along supporting pieces of wood but it was still with much laughter that we climbed aboard and tried to settle ourselves to gaze at the stars overhead.



Strange and wonderful pictures then followed as we tried to move ourselves into more comfortable positions!!







Eventually we extracted ourselves from our swinging bed and headed out of the Hilton (before we were asked to leave!!)

On the way out Peter discovered a status of himself obviously put there in honour of his Birthday



so we took an 'Official' photo and returned to our little hammock on the beach for a final beer (or three)!



I think we need a bigger hammock!!


As Pape now had his new 'Pride and Joy' to race around the Island in, he donated the van to us for the duration of Peters stay.



On our first small adventure around the Island of Moorea, we had had a blow out on one of the wheels. Peter had stripped, changed the wheel and we had returned to the garage to pick up another tyre before trying again.



A few days after we moved into Micheles house, on a trip to see Henri to arrange some dives, water decided to pour its way our of the engine as fast as we poured it in! The year before we had had the same problem and Pape had added a sealant to the water supply to plug the holes.



This sealant had at last given way so with a pack of new powder mixed to exact specifications the two guys gathered around the ailing van one sunny afternoon to repair and sooth the poor beast.



The scientifically measured, carefully studied mixture was poured lovingly and carefully in through an open orifice at the top of the engine, only to pour straight back out from somewhere near the bottom of the engine again! A large flat bowl was placed under the entire structure and the whole process started again!



This time when the mixture poured out they were ready to collect it. Time and again the sealant infused water was poured in, only to reappear in the bowl a few moments later. The boys looked on muttering and making decisions. Engine on, engine off. Fill it up quickly, trickle it down slow.



Eventually it was decided that the poor beast should be book into the garage for urgent repairs. Pape left to make the necessary arrangements, Peter retired to the beach and the van, left to her own devices, allowed the sealant to seep into the holes and plug the leaks!!!!


With the van 'fixed' but still due in the garage, Peter and I headed out for a day's diving with Henri, the ONLY Tahitian Dive Instructor on Moorea! Plus his French friend Le Capitan!




Wet suits were found and squeezed into,




fins were eventually found big enough for Peters feet and we ready for the long walk down the jetty to the awaiting boat.



Although very picturesque and impressive, the jetty is a long walk in hot blazing sun in wet suit carrying what seemed like loads of equipment and I for one was glad to get aboard



Tanks and BCDs were secured,



The boat was pulled gently through the shallow water,





while Peter did his bit to help!!



The jetty slipped away into the distance as Henri climbed back aboard.



Le Capitan to fire up the powerful engines and guided us out into the lagoon!



Dive briefings were given, news from the past year was exchanged, gossip and updates from the Island abounded as we headed out of the smooth water of the bay into the deeper waters of the Pacific for our fist of what was to be many dives!!



Henri took charge of the camera for a photos and then it was time to enter the warm 29C clear water off Moorea.



I was once again wearing two suits but this year I upgraded and got to wear Henri's personal Full suit over the top of a short suit (due to the fact I have grown a little bigger since my last visit and the extra small 5mm full suit that I wore during my last stay was just a wee bit too tight this year!! but we wont tell anyone that bit!)




The dive was amazing and we quickly booked a full set of 10 dives to be taken over the next week!!

We retired to bed that evening looking forward to another week of adventures still to come!!

Honeymoon in Moorea 2

When I came to Moorea for all those months last year I did many amazing things and I saw constant beauty all around me. I saw it each day in the sun-sets that were ever changing every evening, each one I witnessed was personally unique as the colours and clouds passed by. I saw beauty in the waters of the lagoon, from the dark rich blues, the clear aqua marine, to the reflected shimmering and moving waves as they worked their way through the pass and onto my shore.




I lived in a magnificent house with a huge garden that was full of hues of green and plants that are only available as tiny pot plants back home. Giant bushes of jasmine trailed along my wall, palms full of coconuts of green, orange and brown filled my garden, Guava trees poured fruit onto the grass as did the Bread fruit tree and the other edible bushes that surrounded me.




For one month I shared all this with Lisa. She too bared witness as the colours of the world accumulated on the horizon but most of the time I was a solitary witness, my writings and photos tried vainly to catch the magic, a little was spread through the Blog but most died each day as I slept clearing from the mind, leaving it ready to witness wonders reborn anew in the morning.





This time however my time in Moorea has been different, this time I have had the joy of companionship to witness the wonders of the Island. This time I had Peter with me!!







We moved into Micheles house just as the rains stopped!


Together we walked the gardens assessing the Tupa holes and changes over the past 6 months that I had been away. The gardeners had cut the grass and cleared the lawn the day before we arrived giving me a blank canvas to work with.




The beach had changed shape, gone was the large soft rolling beach, as a huge coral cliff complete with a load of sea debris now dominated the once smooth sandy slope.






Sea weed and leaves were piled up in lines along the shore and the rocks at the point were once again full of trapped coconuts.






The bags were unpacked, the curtains were thrown back in the Master Bedroom and the wheel barrow was unlocked.



Tools that I had left were rediscovered, herbs and spices from my past were still on my shelves, it felt like coming home and there was much work to be done!





Work began on the beach that afternoon.


Debris was cleared and marched down to the burning pile at the end of the 200m garden.


Coconuts were gathered, wood was stacked and the huge job of reshaping the beach began.







I watched the waves as they pushed even more coral onto the beach. When I had been here before I had observed that the 2 inch waves broke upon the shore in a straight line pushing sand and coral evenly onto the shore.





Now as I watched I noticed that two distinct waves converged to form the coral cliff that dominated the centre.


When I examined the shape of the bay beyond the tiny breaking waves this too had divided and I came up with a theory.


IF I could get the bay beyond the waves even, then the waves should become even.

If the waves became even, then the coral deposits would become even.

If the coral deposits became even then I could rebuild my gentle slope and the soft powdered coral sand would return giving me back my golden beach.





We began in earnest the next day. Coral was pulled and pushed into the sea, the dip that formed the two disjointed waves was filled.


Each hour the waves continued to separate and pushed the coral back onto the beach, each hour either I or Peter pushed it back.





Blisters formed upon my hands, callouses began to reform but each day a little more was pushed back into the sea than the sea could push back onto my shore.




By the end of a whole week of hourly redistribution we had won! The waves now swept the beach in a uniform line, the dip that had once divided them was no more and sand was indeed beginning to form a layer over the coral deposits.

For another week we took turns to push and drag the coral and sand into the sea forming the gentle slope until the day came that the entire beach was filled with sand!



That day as Peter watched fascinated, I dragged mountains of sand back up the depleted beach until a good 4 inched covered what had once been coral filled areas. The soft sandy beach was back.

Two weeks of daily work had rewarded me with a beach of dreams, now all I had to do was maintain it.





The garden too had taken a battering during my absence. Each day while Peter and I took turns at raking the coral and the sand, the other one had collected the leaves and raked the Tupa holes level.




On our first night I introduced Peter to the joys of Tupa Hunting.





As we strolled around the garden as quietly as two grown adults carrying a large bucket, two rakes and wearing head torches accompanied by an excited dog could manage, we caught am amazing 29 large Tupas with our rattly rakes and bucket.





These we then released 200m beyond the end of the garden, on the far side of the road well beyond the storm drain bridge.

My theory was that even if they headed back towards the garden and their familiar territory, they just might get distracted, find new holes, fall in love (or get squished on the road) before they got back to the garden.


This time away from home, allowed me time to fill in their existing holes and re-level the garden!




It was not all work either. The sun shone down as we drifted over the coral drop off 20m from the sandy beach, fish of many colours, shapes and sizes gazed as us as we passed over , gazing at them. A turtle was spotted just off shore and the day came when Peter found himself in the exact same location as the turtle as she swam the wall looking for food and exploring her territory. For a brief moment the y were alone in the sea, each aware of the other, both at ease. When Peter lifted his head to call me however, she sank into the depths and from that day onwards she always remained just out of sight although we saw her break water daily.










Coconut hunting became another enjoyable pass time as Peter began to attacked the trees with his hunting stick in search of ripe prey.





Having been successful with his hunt he would then return to the house with his stunned prey in his hands in preparation for the final kill!





Pepsi became a constant companion during these forays into the jungle (garden) reaping the rewards of her diligent comradeship each time the mighty hunter eventually slew the evil coconut and spilt its intestinal milk all over the sacrificial stone.






The sweat blood and occasional screams (usually of profanity) would not have been suitable for the younger persons around us but we were alone in our jungle paradise and save for Pepsi – who has been sworn to secrecy – no on will ever know of the
hours it took the mighty hunter to crack open each coconut!



He quit on the 3rd day claiming a dislike for the succulent flesh of his prey and the trees remained in tact for the rest of our stay!!