Day 13 · Bora Bora · 10 March 2016
As beautiful as the Marquesas had been, there was no denying the excitement that spread across the ship when Bora Bora appeared on the horizon.
Even seasoned travellers get a little excited when they’re sailing into one of the most famous lagoons on earth.
And Bora Bora did not disappoint.
A Familiar Mistake
The morning nearly started with another breakfast disaster.
Apparently I learn slowly.
Kirsten and I arrived just as breakfast was ending.
Again.
At this point I was developing a reputation.
Fortunately, the dining room staff took pity on us.
A basket of pastries appeared.
Toast followed.
Then fruit.
It wasn’t the full buffet, but it was enough to save us from becoming breakfast casualties for the second time on the trip.
Paradise Before the Crowds
Most passengers headed off on excursions.
I took one of the earliest boats to Motu Tapu.
The tiny private island felt almost deserted.
Only three of us arrived on that first boat.
The water surrounding the motu glowed with impossible shades of turquoise.
White sand stretched around the shoreline.
Palm trees swayed overhead.
If someone asked me to describe a tropical paradise, it would probably look exactly like this.
The Welcome Committee
As I stepped ashore, an older Polynesian man picked up his ukulele and began singing.
One son beat a drum.
Another blew a conch shell.
Suddenly I had my own personal welcome ceremony.
Or at least that’s how it felt with only three visitors on the island.
It was one of those wonderfully unexpected moments that travel occasionally provides.
You couldn’t plan it.
You couldn’t schedule it.
You simply happen to be there.
A Different View of Bora Bora
Later, Kirsten and I headed into Vaitape and rented a car.
Most visitors rely on taxis.
I prefer having wheels.
Partly for convenience.
Partly because I like wandering wherever curiosity leads.
But the highlight of the day wasn’t on the ground.
It was above it.
Into the Clouds
That afternoon we joined two fellow Aranui passengers for a helicopter tour.
Fifteen minutes doesn’t sound like much.
Until you’re flying over Bora Bora.
The moment we lifted off, the lagoon unfolded beneath us.
Every shade of blue imaginable stretched across the water.
Tiny motus ringed the island.
Coral reefs formed intricate patterns beneath the surface.
Then we approached Mount Otemanu.
Clouds wrapped around the peak.
The helicopter entered the mist.
For a brief moment everything disappeared.
Fog surrounded us.
Rain drifted past the windows.
Then suddenly we emerged on the far side.
The lagoon exploded into view once again.
It felt like flying through a secret doorway.
Missing the Boat
Quite literally.
By the time we finished exploring the island, we realized we had missed the final barge back to the Aranui.
This was less concerning than it sounds because we had already planned to spend the night on Bora Bora.
Still, it felt strange watching the ship from shore knowing our voyage was effectively ending.
For nearly two weeks, the Aranui had been home.
Now it was becoming part of the scenery.
The Coconut Crab Migration
That evening provided one final surprise.
While driving to our pension, movement appeared in the headlights.
At first I thought it was birds.
Then I thought it might be rodents.
Then I got closer.
Coconut crabs.
Huge coconut crabs.
Dozens of them.
Crossing the road.
For the next several kilometres, I found myself carefully weaving around what can best be described as tropical armoured tanks.
Back home, you watch for deer.
In Bora Bora, apparently, you watch for giant crabs.
Travel never stops teaching new lessons.
A Perfect Final Island
As the day ended, I found myself reflecting on how different Bora Bora felt from the Marquesas.
More developed.
More famous.
More visited.
Yet still spectacular.
And after nearly two weeks of remote islands and unforgettable encounters, it felt like the perfect finale.
Or so I thought.
Because the real ending wasn’t Bora Bora.
The real ending was everything the voyage had taught us.
