116. Moorea

After a week of creature comforts in Tahiti, we had only two weeks left to see the rest of the Society Islands before our visas ran out. In anticipation of leaving the marina, I stocked up on fresh provisions and was busy organizing the pantry when I accidentally knocked over a jar of pasta sauce. My first thought was “Eitan is going to be so pissed if I damage the teak (wood) floor!”, so I stuck my foot out to cushion the fall of the jar. This resulted in the most excruciating pain I had ever felt, as the jar of pasta sauce landed directly on my left big toe. I cried out in pain, crawled to the bedroom and began bawling my eyes out. Eitan stepped in to cook dinner and handed me an ice pack for my toe as I watched my toenail slowly turning black with every throbbing heartbeat.

Before leaving Tahiti we needed to pick up Eitan’s friend, Roslin, who was flying in for a visit and bringing us all kinds of goodies we had shipped to her home. The night before felt like Christmas eve since we could hardly remember what we had shipped to her. The next morning Roslin arrived, so we pulled up to the fuel dock to top up while I went to look for her in the marina complex. Normally this wouldn’t have been an issue but I could hardly walk with my injured toe, and since Roslin didn’t have a French Polynesia SIM card for her phone, I had no idea where she could possibly be. I walked for quite a while until I saw a woman sitting on a suitcase and figured that must be her, and luckily, I was right. We loaded her and her gigantic suitcase onboard and took off for Moorea.

We made our way out of the pass and motored the short hop to the neighboring island. Despite it being a relatively calm day without much swell, I assume the combination of red-eye flights and not much to eat resulted in Roslin becoming very seasick. Luckily, it was a short trip and we arrived in Cooks Bay about two hours later, greeted by a handful of dolphins swimming along at the bow.

I made us lunch and Roslin seemed to feel better after getting some food in her stomach. We chatted as Eitan began unpacking all the stuff she had brought for us. From initial appearances, I assumed she was probably close to my age but was surprised to find out she was 37 and already had 5 kids, her oldest being 20. She was brought up in the Mormon church and forced to marry at 16 when she had accidentally gotten pregnant. She had all five of her kids before turning 23 and I couldn’t believe some of the stories she told me about growing up in that type of environment, cherishing the freedom of my own upbringing. She has since gotten divorced, left the Mormon church, and seemed to be living her best life while owning different properties and businesses, and doing really well for herself and her family.

Looking around outside, we couldn’t help but notice that Moorea’s striking beauty, with its lush green peaks and turquoise water. With overwater bungalows and its proximity to Tahiti, it’s no wonder why it’s such a popular honeymoon and tourist destination. We took Roslin to do all the touristy things by the anchorage like going to see the shark and ray feeding area. Once we anchored the dinghy, we were immediately surrounded by blacktip reef sharks and giant stingrays that obviously appreciated the free handouts given by the tour operators. While it was a special experience to take Roslin there, it was a bit tainted for Eitan and me, having just come from the Tuamotus where these creatures aren’t fed simply to entertain the tourists.

We did a little snorkeling nearby, which also paled in comparison to the Tuamotus. The water inside the outer reef was murky and the reef itself lacked the biodiversity that we had grown accustomed to. To anyone else, it probably seemed like good snorkeling and we tried not to taint the experience for Roslin. Afterwards, we headed to the beach but struggled to find any public areas to land the dinghy. All of the beaches seemed to be owned by one resort or another and were covered in signs painted with “PRIVATE, KEEP OUT”. We finally found one area that was seemingly uninhabited and relaxed in the shade of some palm trees for a few hours. It surprised me to see that a lot of the beachfront property and overwater bungalows were boarded up and fenced off, failing to reopen since COVID.

Originally Roslin was supposed to be onboard for about a week. However, given her sea sickness and the fact that our next passage would be 16 hours with swell on the beam, she decided to stay in Moorea and only spent three nights with us. We went out to dinner to celebrate her last night onboard and she insisted I get dressed up with her. I looked through all my clothes and realized I didn’t have a single dress with me! She let me borrow one of hers and we headed to shore. Once again we were unsure where to park the dinghy. We also failed to realize that it was Sunday, meaning most restaurants and businesses would be closed. We managed to park at the end of one of the resort beaches and snuck our way through the resort to the main road, then walked another 30 minutes to the first open restaurant. Dinner turned out to be a bit of a mission, but overall, a lovely last night with Roslin.

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