Blessed be the coconuts...Raiatea

We could see beautiful beachy motus dotting the perimeter of the lagoon as our ship approached Raiatea, the first of our stops in the French Polynesian Islands. We chose not to believe people when they told us of the lack of beach on the main island itself. Such negativity from our island guides could only be combated with stubborn denial. So I purchased an overpriced yellow frisbee, which was surely never manufactured to maintain altitude, and set off towards the tropical sun haven that existed only in our minds. After getting laughed at by Polynesian school kids (probably because of my new frisbee), being offered marijuana and a couple mispronounced English cuss words by a mob of slightly older Polynesians, and following a painfully aimless walk, we stumbled upon the only beach within walking distance; a 200 ft stretch of rock, sand, and driftwood about 10 feet away from the main island road. With my pride in the sand and frisbee stuck in a palm, I saw redemption in a distant island motu. Lustfully, I looked upon its perfect sandy beaches, proud palms and the small wooden shack dawning its middle that I was sure existed to house cold buckets of free beer. With three hours to kill, I began the long swim to my island oasis, and in about twenty minutes began my swim back. I felt pretty good about getting 1/3 the way there...so I decided to make peace with the beach I’d been offered. As I’ve always been too restless to sunbath, I took to knocking down coconuts and drinking the milk...



My coconut looks like Wilson.

There’s probably a machine that does this in 3 seconds with much less mess, but my pride did return and for that I must thank beautiful beachless Raiatea.

Two houses in the middle of the lagoons protected by Raiatea's island borders...



We could barely fit through this narrow natural exit from Raiatea...