Six years ago our family came to visit Rangiroa and we all fell in love with this island paradise. Part of the reason we fell in love with this island was the friendly people we met at church in the small village of Tiputa. On our previous trip here we spent a week in the only bed and breakfast on the Tiputa side of the island. A family pension with three bungalow cottages called Chez Lucien. It was a magical week in a simple little cottage on the beach. Our mode of transportation was with the bicycles that the B&B owners loaned to us.
This time however we brought our own accommodations and didn’t need to worry about finding a place to stay. Sure it would be nice to spend a few nights in a nice place to have fresh water showers every day but for now we’ll manage on the water poor Tuamotu islands.
This morning we decided that we would visit the same little church that we had visited on our first trip to Rangiroa. This involved two zodiac rides to shuttle our crew across Tiputa Pass which was still calm after 3 days of flat seas. Unfortunately we did not realize that there are two docks on this side of the island and so rather than going to the little marina where all of the locals moor their fishing boats, we tied up our boat to where the water taxi shuttles passengers to. This meant that instead of a 5 minute walk, we had to walk 15 minutes in the sweltering morning sun. It really wasn’t that bad except for the little 30 pound heat bundle I got to carry. Our 17 month old, Zakary can sure heat up a person that desperately would love to cool down.
We arrived at church at 8:30 am which was the same time that services started on the other side of the island only to find out that we were thirty minutes late. We were however greeted by the local leaders by the back door and snuck into some empty seats at the back of the room. I wasn’t sure how they knew we were coming but they did have chairs there waiting for us and said that they were expecting us. Later on I was told by the local leader that his brother-in-law in Ahe had told them we were coming and another relative on the other side of Rangiroa had also mentioned that we would be there. Word sure travels around.
The people speaking in church were mostly talking in Tahitian and so I didn’t understand a lot of what was being said. It sure helped me to gain a renewed appreciation for how the rest of my family members must feel as they sit there and can’t understand a single thing that people are saying. Speaking French has sure helped us out enormously over the past few weeks.
I accompanied Eli and Teyauna for the second hour to the class for the Primary children. Eli looked bored to death and was making no attempt to hide the fact by the dazed look on his face. The rest of the kids were all practicing songs that they would be singing next week for Fathers Day. My kids however may have recognized some of the tunes but did not read French well enough to keep up or follow along.
After the church meetings were over, a gentleman presented me with a bundle of green bananas and two large papayas to take back to the boat with us. It was wonderful to see bananas once again as we have long since eaten the three bundles given to us in the Marquesas Islands. While bananas do grow on the Tuamotu Islands they are not as common here as they do require that the farmer dig up a huge hole in the ground and replace the existing coral with good soil. We loaded these bananas into the basket on the front of a bright red bicycle that one of the local church members loaned to us so that some of the kids could pedal back to our dingy about two kilometres away. We took our time heading back as we strolled down the main street of Tiputa.
Jaeden and Dailin had been invited to go to the copra farm of one of the leaders who had been teaching the class for the boys. They didn’t however want to do this in their white Sunday shirts and ties and so we first zipped across the pass to our boat to get changed. Alyssa was interested as well so she came along and I was there to be the translator.
It was only a kilometre from the docks to the family home where the copra was being processed. There was a two foot tall pile of split coconuts that had been sitting there for a few days. It was ready to have the coconut flesh scooped out for the final stages of being dried out in the sun. The kids were shown how the family earns money by first collecting the coconuts and then going through the process of splitting the husks, scooping the coconut flesh out and letting it all dry in the hot sun. After drying out it is stuffed into burlap sacs and shipped to Papeete for processing into oils and other uses. Each 60 to 70 kilogram sack can earn a family from 75 to 100 dollars. For many islanders the need for their copra is an essential part of the economy as apart from copra, the only other work a person can create on the islands is to be a fisherman. Outside of these two professions there are not many other ways to earn money on the islands other than through tourism.
After taking a turn scooping out the copra our hosts got a long wooden stick with a metal hook on the end. They proceeded to pull a few green coconuts off of a nearby tree and then had us take a turn to try husking them. Jaeden was quite successful at his attempt but Dailin and I both cracked our coconuts while they were still in the husk which caused a good portion of the coconut juice to pour onto the ground. We did however open the coconuts up and enjoyed eating at the soft white coconut flesh that was inside these young coconuts. It was a definite treat. The kids also hung out in the shade of some trees and lay out on a hammock for a short period of time but it was hard to escape from the sweltering heat. Finally we decided to head back to the boat for a little bit of relaxation as we had been invited by some other island friends for dinner a little later on and wanted to hide from the heat first.
Two hours later we were back in Tiputa. The mother of our friend from many years back had invited us to come to her home for what turned out to be an island feast. A local boy from the island that had accompanied us to the Copra farm was there to meet us once again. He rode his bike alongside us and pedalled ahead to tell our hosts of our impending arrival. As we approached the home we were greeted by about ten dogs, some of which were not so friendly. One nipped at Jaeden’s shorts. He knew well enough to push back at the dogs and not let them see any fear. Fortunately the other kids made it without any problem but unfortunately the young boy that had bicycled with us to the home got scared as some of the dogs jumped up onto him and tore a flap of skin off of his leg. Our hostess was very sad and excused herself to take the boy to get two stitches at the local medical clinic while her daughter, Maria took great care of us as we sat down for our island dinner.
On the table were some local root vegetables cooked in banana leaves, chicken, fish, poisson crue and a type of sweet tapioca. There was also a wheelbarrow full of green coconuts and Maria proceeded to wield her machete to open up the coconuts to provide us with some fresh drinks. I was careful to drink so as not to get the juice on my shirt because it stains everything it touches. Unfortunately I was not so careful as I tried to pour some of the juice into Dailins cup. It ended up splashing all over his arm and onto his shirt. It didn’t look bad but from experience we have learned that in a day or two the shirt with have some permanent brown stains on it. We all enjoyed the meal but Kirsten got a little squeamish as she accidentally popped the eye of the fish that was on her plate.
Following the meal we walked down the this family’s little beach. The kids were absolutely thrilled to comb the beach for shells, coral and any other sea collections they could make. They walked around as the sun dipped down until well into the evening. It was hard to pull them away but we finally succeeded.
After exchanging a few gifts we said goodbye so that we could make it back to our boat before it was too dark. By the time the first load of our zodiac crew was motoring back, the sun had already set. As Jaeden, Eli and I waited in the twilight of the evening, they couldn’t resist jumping in the water for a swim. We also watched as one of the local boys about ten years old, ran alongside the cement docks to throw his fishing spear into the water. I was surprised as he came running over with a three foot long fish skewered to the end of his stick. The fish was long and skinny, about the width of a bundle of 4 pencils. In the evening we whizzed back to our catamaran with all sorts of experiences added to the shells and treasures spilling out in the dingy.
Our day however was not over. We decided to invite the neighboring boat anchored only 100 feet away from us over for desert. Into the evening we enjoyed sharing sailing stories of our recent voyages. I think however that ours could not compare to their big tale. They shared with us the story of their recent tale. It was about how they had been dis-masted 300 miles from the Marquesas Islands and the miracle they experienced of another boater finding a mast the exact same size in some tall grass as he was hiking the hills of Hiva Oa. The kids couldn’t help but share two of the black pearls they had received with these two boaters, after all, their boat is called Black Pearl.
Wonderful stories, Norm. Lots of envy here. Have you any idea(s) of how that mast got into the forest grass? Sure would like to know.
You know our story about losing our mast and then having a friend tell me he had prayed about it and that i would get a new mast for free. I had figured that it would cost $22,000.00 to buy one and the rigging and have .it shipped from the mainland to Samoa. Well, that was a story to remember when a few days later we got our mast and rigging but it did cost $200.00 ha ha. neat. Dad