Front row at Polynesia's biggest sporting event
Soccer. Tennis. Swimming. Forget it: The biggest sporting event in all of Polynesia is an outrigger canoe race. Every November, 100 teams of six paddlers, from Hawaii to the Marquesas to France, compete in the three-day, inter-island race known as Hawaiki Nui Va.
First, there's a 44.5-kilometre hustle from the island of Huahine to the island of Raiatea. Next, a speed race within the lagoon between Raiatea and Taha'a. Finally, an endurance paddle of 52 kilometres across the ocean to Bora Bora.
Luckily, I was staying on the island of Taha'a just in time to catch the second leg of the race. The lovely and low-key resort I was staying at, Le Taha'a, called in a party boat run by the terrific, fun-loving Terainu Tours Tahaa, who took about a dozen hotel guests out to the races.
We filled up the boat with beers and snacks and sunscreen, then sped to the open water ahead of the canoes.
We threw an anchor down a few metres from shore. The lagoon was crystal clear, rippling with sunlight, teeming with gorgeous little fish and coral gardens.
I jumped overboard with my snorkelling mask and swam out to the channel between two motus, where the natural water flume quickly pulled me to the other side as I viewed the coral beds a few metres below. The act is called drift snorkelling – you don't have to expend an ounce of energy to kick or swim as you snorkel.
You just float along on top of the water, watching the seascape as if on an amusement park ride. By the time I made my way back to the party boat, the motu picnic was in full effect.
Palm leaves were gathered and laid across a small rowboat – a floating buffet table. Scallops were shucked and turned into ceviche on the half shell.
Coconuts were cracked and made into cocktails. Fruit was sliced and diced and laid on a platter of leaves. Out of the cooler came beers and ham and cheese baguettes (it puts the French in Polynesia).
We all gathered around the picnic, wading thigh-high in water, listening to stories about adventures on the Polynesian seas from the captain and his crew and their friends (who joined our picnic from their various other boats). We were warm and full and tan and, for one sun-drenched day, part of a community.
That's not something you normally find in a resort town full of private beaches and private bungalows and private islands. But I swear it was like hanging out at a block party in my neighbourhood back home.
Instead of sitting on a brownstone stoop, I was treading water, a whole ecosystem thriving below my feet. The sun descended with a swiftness that caught us all off-guard, and then one of our crew revealed himself to be a singer. He serenaded us to the tune of a ukulele all the way back to our dock.
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Author: Jeralyn Gerba
This article originally appeared on Fathom.
This article was from Fathom and was legally licensed through the NewsCred publisher network.
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