What do you plan for your fiftieth birthday? A dream trip to a place that you’ve never been and can only dream of; Tahiti.
I booked a trip on Delta using my milage awards to Los Angeles, California to spend three days with my nieces and sister-in-law. They lived in Inglewood, which is close to the airport, LAX. I always rent a convertible when I go to Southern California and we went everywhere; restaurants, University of Southern California, Disneyland, etc.
When it came time formy flight to Tahiti, I checked out of the Doubletree and went to the airport for a four o’clock departure. However, Air Tahiti Nui didn’t have its usual arrival that day, so we had to recheck into a hotel, stay the night and return the next morning for a one o’clock departure. This should have been some kind of sign.
We returned the next day and the flight was off as rescheduled to Papeete, Tahiti, the only international airport in the island chain. It was nine, peaceful hours in the air from Los Angeles.
I was due for a eight day stay and the first night was scheduled at the Beachcomer Intercontinental Hotel, a hotel whose luxury was beyond description. The huge pool lapped up to the back of the patio and it was decorated with Tahitian icons galore. The evening was complete with a floorshow featuring Les Gand Ballet de Tahiti, costumed dancers entertaining in traditional culture.
The rest was wonderful and breakfast at the Beachcomer was a perfect assortment of fruits and cereals. The next route was to the ferry dock for my trip to the island of Moorea and I waited outside the hotel for a minibus that would take me there. The minibus was a pickup truck with seating built in the back that would hold ten passengers and their luggage. Away we go!
The ferry dock was one hundred and eighty degrees the opposite of the hotel. I was immersed in Tahiti/French culture, surrounded by the people who were busy traveling, doing business and engaging in everyday Tahitian life. I pulled my bags along and people-watched for an hour before my ferry departed for Moorea and wished that I spoke French, which everyone around me did.
When we loaded the ferry boat for the half hour trip to Moorea, I went up to the top deck where I would have more room. The boat pulled away from the dock and the winds on the top were very strong, but I was finally off on my adventure and left the lap of luxury for the next six days.
When we arrived at the Moorea dock, I found the driver that was heading for the two Bali Hai hotels on the island and I was staying at the second of the two. Club Bali Hai was lush, green and had bungaloes scattered about the grounds it was my first experiece with mosquito netting, a devise made for traping the mosquitos in.
Within an hour of arriving at the Club, I was picked up by Phillipe Molle, a divemaster that I had read about, whose specialty was shark diving. “You even look like a diver,” were his first words to me as I climbed into the passenger side of his compact Peugeot. Twenty divers went out with us that afternoon and we leveled off at one hundred feet, I counted the shark as we sank to the bottom...one, two, three, etc.
One of the first animals we encountered as we reached the one hundred foot bottom was a huge and friendly morea eel, sticking his head out of a reef. One of the dive masters went over to pet the eel and he took his mask and regulator off to kiss and hug the huge animal, that was as friendly as a laborador retriever.
I tucked in next to Phillipe, who has put on a chain mail glove. He had taken a bag of bait down with him and pulled a fish out of the bag in order to feed the shark. The thirteen shark ranged from three feet to six feet, they waited their turn patiently to approached the bait and rip off a chunk. Hundreds of other fish caught pieces that were shaken off and scattered by the attack. I was facinated by the feeding of the shark and even though I was three feet away from them, I wasn’t afraid at all; I could have stayed in that environment forever.
We spent forty-five mintues to a hour feeding the shark before acending. In three days I dived twice more with smaller parties; once as small as three people. I had a high time with Phillipe Molle and his crew.
I walked the island of Moorea plenty and found restaurants to dine at in the evenings. On day three I took a plane from Moorea’s green mountains back to Papeete’s smaller airport and waited for a couple of hours until my plane arrived for Tetiaroa, Marlon Brando’s private atoll. Tetiaroa was an eight island land mass that was only inhabited on the big island; an atoll was a land mass less than eight feet in height.
On Tetiaroa it was a disadvantage not speaking French; I was the only guest who didn’t. My first evening there seemed a lonely one because of the language barrier and the food was absolutely the worst. I can’t remember what we had, it was that forgetable.
The next morning I went snorking in the bay outside my door. The warm water was wonderful, shallow and clear. I swam over to an atoll across the water, had the entire island and the sun to myself for hours. As I swam back I encounter a ray and we both frightened each other.
I took a walked around the island and saw a large party on guests waiting on a boat. The boat was bound for a close atoll that was inhabited by birds. I saw folks board the boat, but I was hesitant; no one was wearing a safety jacket and I didn’t want to see an island that was covered in bird poop. I passed on the morning boatride.
I was practicing my horn when the luncheon driver was a going over to the far side of the island and he asked if I wanted to ride over. I put my horn down and climbed aboard to find another hitcher, Babs. She was a steward on Hawaillan Airlines and she spoke English.
We were the first over to the picnic area and took time to go swimming. She was quite pretty, her skin was fried chicken brown and in getting to know her she told me that she was married to a Black man but their marriage was ending. I both got nude and splashed in the Pacific while we awaited lunch.
Two other of her friends arrived with the lucheon party, Moena and Pierre, another airline employee and a pearl merchant. Pierre, a pearl broker, told me how pearls were cultivated in Tahiti and I buddied up with them the rest of my time on Tetiaroa.
Try as I might, I couldn’t convice Babs to sleep with me that evening on the romantic island of Tetiaroa, in my deluxe cabin. The next day we flew back to Papeete and I prepared for my last day in Tahiti by staying another night at the Beachcomer. But something was in the air and it wasn’t right.
Outside of Paris, Air France Concorde Flight 4590, had crashed a month earlier, on July 25, 2000, and the flight grounds workers in France took that as a opportunity to strike and correct conditions that they thought were inaccurate and unfair. The strike had effected refueling in Papeete, Tahiti and aviation fuel reserves had to be gathered from around the Pacific, which had prompted the delay in Los Angeles.
Air Tahiti Nui had run out of fuel, canceled my flight for the next day and when I went to extend my room stay at the Beachcomer I was out of luck because they were over booked. I had breakfast and wondered about my plight; I was due in Columbus to play a big gig on Sunday, this was Thursday and I was a very long ways from home.
Could I fly Hawaiian Airlines to Honolulu and catch a ride to Los Angeles? The thoughts were crossing my mind. At breakfast that morning I ran into Moena, my friend from Tetiaroa and she suggested that I follow her and she would not only put me up at her home, but find me a way out of Tahiti.
Moena and I went to an open air market for lunch, I played with a band who was entertaining in the square and we shopped for food. We bought a unicorn fish, with a horn protruding from its forhead and other food items, before heading for her home. She lived on a mountain side, overlooking the airport and had an above ground pool out back. Her nieces were playing in the water and I joined them for a splash.
Later that evening some friends came over and we had a deluxe dinner, which included the unicorn fish broiled to perfection. To top the meal off, Moena produced a chocolate cake and everyone sang happy birthday to me. What an exciting time, celebrating my fiftieth birth in Papeete.
The next morning we rose very early and Moena and I went to her job; she was an airline employee. She searched the computer and found me a seat on an Air New Zealand flight that was stopping in Papeete, on the way to Los Angeles. I was excited and kissed Moena goodbye before exciting Tahiti.
I guess if you have to get stranded in Tahiti you might as well get stuck with a friend who lives on a mountain side with a backyard pool. I made it back to Los Angeles and got home a day ahead of my Sunday gig.
