Cook Islands Arrival: Bananas, Bread & a New Beginning
Date: November 13, 2025
Location: Rarotonga, Cook Islands
They say that when one door closes, another opens—but after 12 days on the Aranui, sailing through remote Austral Islands and absorbing more culture, hiking, and unexpected island moments than any family could possibly plan for, our “door closing” felt more like stepping off a floating home.
And as it turns out, stepping off one adventure is the perfect way to fall headfirst into another.
Our day began long before sunrise with the kind of packed‑bag, key‑turning, goodbye‑saying routine that only travelers recognize. After a warm round of farewells to the crew and new friends aboard the Aranui, we hopped into a taxi and headed straight to Tahiti’s airport for the next leg of our journey: the Cook Islands.
The flight from Tahiti to Rarotonga was just three hours—long enough to relax, short enough that the kids didn’t have time to get restless. And best of all, we didn’t have to change our clocks. Tahiti and the Cook Islands share the same time zone, which made the transition feel seamless… as if we’d simply hopscotched across the Pacific and landed in a cousin of French Polynesia.
As we stepped off the plane, we were greeted island‑style: fragrant flower leis, warm “Kia Orana!” smiles, and an even warmer breeze. The combination was instantly energizing, as though the island reached out and shook the travel fatigue right off our shoulders.
We collected our welcome pack—complete with visitor SIM cards, snacks, and local guides—and found the Polynesian Rentals desk just a few steps outside. Before long we were in our rental car, adjusting to left‑side driving and cruising beneath towering palms and emerald peaks.
And then… we arrived.
Our home for the next few days: The Rarotongan Beach Resort & Lagoonarium.
If travel brochures ever underpromise, this place does the opposite. There was a long sweep of soft, white sand leading into the kind of blue lagoon that almost hurts your eyes with its brightness. The water was so clear that even from shore, you could watch fish weaving through coral. Hammocks swayed beneath coconut palms. Our beachfront room opened onto a stretch of sand that felt like it existed only for us.
But the best part?
We arrived on a Thursday—which any Cook Islander will tell you is a very good day to arrive here because it’s Island Night at the resort.
Island Night means music.
It means dance.
It means laughter, fire, drums, and a buffet that deserves its own travel show.
The evening kicked off with traditional Cook Islands dancing—beautiful, expressive, and full of that unmistakable Polynesian rhythm. And then came the fire dancers. One performer after another lit up the night, but the crowd favorite was a 7‑year‑old fire dancing prodigy who spun flaming torches with complete confidence while the audience gasped and applauded. He might very well grow up to be a Cook Islands superstar—and we get to say we saw him before he was famous.
The buffet was a table‑breaking spread of local dishes:
• smoky meats cooked over coconut husks
• island‑style curries
• ika mata (fresh fish in coconut sauce)
• taro, breadfruit, and tropical veggies
• and a dessert bar that would tempt even the strongest traveler
Zak, meanwhile, spent half the evening both fascinated and mildly horrified by the dancers’ outfits—every teenager’s awkward rite of passage in Polynesia. Teyauna was already filming and sharing the night on Instagram, crafting highlight reels faster than the dancers could change costumes.
For us, the night was a perfect way to shift gears from the Aranui’s immersive cultural expedition to a new island rhythm. No more ship rocking to put us to sleep, but plenty of drumbeats, laughter, and warm tropical air drifting through our windows.
With the ocean just meters from our door and the stars stretching endlessly above us, we felt the unmistakable thrill of a new adventure beginning.
