Rarotonga - The Last Dance

March 1

Paradise.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved

February 26 was a hot, sticky, tropical kind of day, the steamiest of our trip. It was our last day in Raro, and nobody wanted to leave. The prospect loomed large over us, and tempers wore a bit thin. I think it was the combination of uncomfortable humidity partnered with the general moroseness one quite naturally feels when facing a separation of thousands of miles from this amazingly beautiful, calm, peaceful place.

This guy poses in the 4 directions.
Here, I'm doing my best to cover his bits...

We started our packing while waiting for a couple of us to come back from a walkabout, and then we went to market in Avarua, it being Saturday morning. And, as you'll remember, going to market is what one does on Saturday mornings. We were all sweating profusely. I'm sorry to be indelicate, but facts are facts. There's no other way to put it.

I mentioned to one of the shopkeepers that it was an awfully hot day, and she smiled and said, “Well, that's what you came here for, isn't it?” Actually, no. But I suppose, generally, she does have a point. Most people would be here to escape winter weather. But the winter weather where I live is not of the sub-freezing, blizzardy variety.

Marumaru Atua, the Cook Islands vaka.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We walked along the waterfront in Avarua, and guess what we saw? The vaka! There it was, at full sail, just outside the reef. It was making its way into the harbor, with a whole bunch of people on board. We watched (in the shade) as it approached the dock by Captain Jack's, and then we walked on over to have a closer look. I tried to imagine crossing the ocean on this vessel, but I couldn't quite picture myself doing it. Especially in high seas. The Voyagers are a brave and adventurous bunch!

Marumaru Atua at Treasure Island
(near San Francisco)
We visited, as promised. Can you spot Brown?
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We took some pictures and then tried to think of something to take home to cook for dinner. Everything pretty much closes at 1 or 2 on Saturday afternoon so everyone can get ready for Sunday, except a few of the pricier places, and we needed to think about what we still had left to do in order to be ready to leave on time. Frankly, I thought I'd rather miss the plane, but then there would be the small problem of no money and no place to stay. Not a happy prospect, eh? But surely there's something an enthusiastic and vivacious person such as myself could do to earn a small but sufficient living here? Anyway, we had just eaten at the market, and nothing sounded good. So, we went home empty-handed, a development we would come to rue.

We went for our last snorkel, always sort of a sad and melancholy thing. Goodbye, big, beautiful fishes and other serene sea creatures. Goodbye, lovely coral heads teeming with itsy bitsy fishies of many colors and shapes. Goodbye, refreshing and clear lagoon. Goodbye, coral reef off in the distance, breaking up the thunderous waves that come crashing upon you. If you have tears in your eyes, well, so did I.

The light from the flash reflecting from the sky's tears.
A torrential downpour on our last evening in Raro.
Looks like snow, but it's huge raindrops!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Bob took the car back to the rental agency, and so now we had no transportation but our feet. So, we thought we might walk over to the PawPaw Patch for dinner. It was dark, but the PawPaw is an easy distance from the Coral Villa. Except that the skies opened up and started crying because we were leaving soon. I mean, buckets of tears. A torrent of emotion that kept on going, and going, and going. There was just no relief for the deep sorrow the island was experiencing. The downpour continued and did not stop. Somehow, I was able to draw solace from the fact that Raro was going to miss me just as much as I was going to miss Raro. And the rain continued. We were unable to go get dinner.

So, we finished packing and chatted while awaiting the shuttle to the airport. Such sad times! Rongo (the manager) came to bid us farewell and wanted to hear all about our adventures, which lightened the mood a bit. She is experienced at such things, and it showed. Thank you, Rongo, for making us feel so sure that we would indeed be back again, and soon.

Rongo and a friend on a
sunnier day.
Thank you, Rongo!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

The shuttle arrived, we loaded up our bags, and we said our goodbyes to Rongo. It was so kind of her to stay with us until the bitter end. In retrospect, though, she probably needed to make sure we were actually vacating the premises! But she never let us think that at the time, not even for a second. The air conditioning in the shuttle was going full blast, and it was just freezing in there. Or so it seemed to me. I hadn't really experienced a whole lot of air conditioning while in Raro, preferring the sea breezes.

We got to the airport in plenty of time to check out the souvenir shops after checking in (a long line of dejected people, hating to leave). Harry got a Cook Islands Police hat, which he has since given to a guy at the VA [military veterans' clinic] who thought it was cool. Just sharing the love.

I purchased one last flat white, even though it's a hot drink and the temperature in the terminal was quite warm (no air conditioning there).

On the plane, I was seated next to a Rarotongan young man who works at the Rarotongan resort. We chatted about slow internet speeds and so on, and he talked about property fights and loose women and STDs and unwed mothers and lazy islanders...it was interesting, for sure, to hear his perspective on things. It certainly wasn't the picture I'd painted in my head and didn't match my experiences at all. Then again, I'd only been there two weeks. I wonder. At any rate, it just goes to show, there's always more to a story than meets the eye. And I still want to go back. So there.

Arriving in Los Angeles. There's snow on the mountains.
Feeling sad...
Photo taken by my Rarotongan friend with my camera.
He had the window seat.

When we were landing in Los Angeles (where the TSA people just about ruined our whole vacation, but I won't discuss that here), the mountains were snow-capped. My new friend had a hard time wrapping his head around that! “Is that SNOW?!” he asked incredulously; and, “I'm going to freeze!” he declared. I'm sure the friends he is visiting will be able to provide him with cold weather gear, if he needs it. Just because there's snow on the mountain tops doesn't mean it's cold down below at all. It's LA. Swimming pools. Movie stars.

Leaving Rarotonga was so hard. There's nothing new there. I seem to fall in love with every place we visit. The cultures, the foods, the views, and, of course, the people, all have their own charm and value. All so different, yet, in a strange way, all the same. The family of man. The children of God. Aere ra, goodbye, until we meet again.

The five of us on the beach. Happy times.
Photo by the neighbors from New Zealand. Thank you!

Rarotonga - A Wedding and Captain Tama's Lagoon Cruize

February 25

Kia Orana! The weather is gone, and it's a glorious day for the island wedding down the beach, which we're keeping an eye on from afar so as to give the wedding party and assembled guests the benefit of the privacy we've ourselves been enjoying here in Rarotonga. The wedding is taking place behind the fellowship hall of the church, which faces the street and backs up to the beach. There's an arch that's been prepared, and it's covered with greenery and beautiful flowers. The native bride is radiant, her lovely skin a dark tan, in sharp (and very attractive) contrast to the snow-white flounces of her long wedding gown, which traces a smooth finish in the sand as she walks slowly towards her Prince Charming...oh, sorry...I got carried away with myself. It is a very romantic scene, to be sure, and all of us down the beach send them our very best wishes and most hearty congratulations as they exchange their timeless vows. May theirs be a marriage that lasts a lifetime and brings them and their families every happiness.

Photo by Bob. All rights reserved.

The sore throat has been greatly helped by the Hall's that Bob found, and the ibuprofen has done the trick. Also the Pepto Bismol. I guess I caught whatever virus Karen had. So, I didn't feel 100% this morning, but I decided to join the group for the glass-bottom boat lagoon cruise at Muri, Captain Tama's (www.captaintamas.com). Am I ever glad I did!

Our “cruise director,” Brown Apera, aka Captain Chocolate, aka Brown Island Boy, aka just plain Brown, was simply incomparable. He's full of energy, very charismatic, supremely knowledgeable about marine life (whale research) as well as island life.

Fun times at Captain Tama's.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

While we waited at Muri Beach for the outing to begin, “the boys” entertained us with drumming, ukelele tunes, jokes, and “get acquainted” moments such as the “dance lesson” for a hapless man and woman in the crowd. This part is all designed to relax and please, and it succeeds on every count.

Once we were all loaded up into the boats and the count had carefully been made – one wouldn't wish to be lost in transit – “the boys” took us snorkeling “at the giant clams” at Fruits of Rarotonga. Now, I'd seen some largish clams on our other snorkels, but these ones were much, much larger. And instead of being tightly closed, with just the bright, purplish blue border showing, these ones were wide open, the membrane/muscle/diaphragm stretched out. I could see the clams “breathing” in and out rhythmically. It was absolutely mesmerizing, something I'd never seen, a wonderful and beautiful display. I was thrilled.

Cooking for us. Yum!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

After that, we motored over to one of the little islands in the lagoon for a BBQ prepared just for us. The guys cooked a really tasty meal of yellow-tail tuna and bananas and onion and potato salad (with coconut cream...come on!) and cole slaw (with coconut cream again) and pawpaw and “coconut rice” (grated coconut, freshly done right there in front of us in record time) and starfruit and watermelon. It was all served buffet-style. Help yourself, but please eat it all. Remember: This could be your last meal!

I naturally was drawn to the “kitchen” area during the preparation, because I love to observe men at work. But I was told to “get out of my kitchen, woman!” Okay, fine. Just put down the big knife you're pointing at me, dude.

Grating the coconut.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Again, grace was said before the meal. So, the luau the other night wasn't a fluke. And then, after lunch, “Chocolate” demonstrated opening and grating the coconut and making coconut cream, which he put on the arms of the ladies – to very good effect, I must say! It makes your skin so soft, and it smells amazing. Naturally, all of this was done in his enthusiastic, humorous way with informative running commentary.

Next, we were shown about a dozen different ways to tie a pareu, using two young and beautiful tourist ladies. There was a “costume malfunction” when one of the ties didn't quite withstand a tug. I guess that's why there was an admonition to wear a bikini under the pareu at all times. Oops!

Nice tats, eh?
Photo by Bob. All rights reserved.

Several of the guys have the most beautiful Polynesian tattoos. Brown especially. His are amazing, done the traditional way. And the fact that he wears them so well certainly does no harm. The nipple piercings with the black pearls were are maybe a bit over the top, but what do I know? I'm not up on these things.

There's a vaka (a Polynesian sailing vessel that looks sort of like a catamaran) joining other Pacific Voyagers sailing from New Zealand and Tonga and picking up more along the way through Tahiti and the Marquesas to Pearl Harbor to peacefully and respectfully ask the Navy to stop sonar experiments, because it harms the whales. After that, they'll come on a good will/cultural exchange/ecology education mission to San Francisco, from where they'll head south along the California coast, then make their way back to their individual islands. Brown plans to participate. We said we would see him in California. [Note: He did participate. We eagerly followed the voyagers' progress through the Pacific Voyagers website and Facebook page, and I watched online as the “canoes” came under the Golden Gate Bridge last summer. What a sight it was! We went to Treasure Island for the “meet and greet,” and we spied Brown charming the people on the vaka out in the water, where they were getting a ride. It made us smile.]

So, when you visit Raro, be sure to go to Muri Beach to hang out with Captain Tama's Boys. We all considered this outing to be a wonderful bargain as well as a highlight of our visit to the Rock. Don't miss it. You won't be disappointed.

And to remind you of another attraction you won't be disappointed to check out, here's a video taken by Jo (all rights reserved) of some of the amazing dancing at Te Vara Nui Village. 

Interesting factoid: The cigarette packs down here have the most graphic and gorey pictures of various cancers caused by smoking. Ick. Jo is collecting them to show to folks back home, and the Aussie kids in the Hibiscus smoke. So, they're saving the packs for her. I guess the images don't really encourage people to stop smoking.

Hint: Don't park under a coconut tree. I heard that's how you can tell the tourists from the natives, but I'm sure that's a joke. Although, natives would know that sort of thing. And tourists would soon figure it out. Coconuts make nasty dents in roofs and hoods. No, not ours.

Another hint: Look to the right-left-right before crossing the road, instead of left-right-left, or you could easily be hit when stepping into traffic. And remember not to drive on the right, or you'll hit someone head-on. No, not us. Traffic cones...watch out for those.

Harry and I on the beach at sunset. With Jack,
the three-legged dog.
Photo by Bob. All rights reserved.

Tonight, we went to a burger stand for a burger and fries (very good fries). I asked for the Palace burger for Harry (2 meat patties, cheese, eggs, bacon...the kitchen sink). But they were out. How can that be? So, I asked for the next burger down the menu. Sorry, not making it. Why would they take the time to describe it to you, only to then tell you they don't have it?! So, we ended up with Hawaiian burgers and chips. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Oh! Paper products are very expensive here, and there isn't a lot of space for a county dump. You might have to ask for a napkin. You will get one small paper napkin. One. A small one. Try to make do with it.

It's our last night in Rarotonga, and it's hard to believe we've been here nearly two weeks. The time has flown by, and I'm not ready to go home. Today has been a great day. Tomorrow is going to be hard for me.