Praying for Tutae Moa

I couldn’t imagine that we could outdo our culinary extravaganza any more than we had already. But on our last night in Bora Bora, we took full advantage of our stay at TOPdive and enjoyed one of the best meals I’ve ever had. The food was delicious and well prepared, but what truly makes it an indulgence is the unbelievable wine list. Brothers Rene and Lucien Schmidlin travel France and other parts of the world to find the finest selection of wines anywhere and have them sent to Bora Bora. I have now been ruined. My $8 bottle of BV had to be let go unceremoniously when I returned home. That, and chocolate cake will never be the same. Go there. Just eat it.

Cook’s Idyll
The next morning, early, we set off for Moorea. My husband had told me many times that Moorea was a special island. When we arrived, I could see why. Moorea is like Shangri-La. OK, all of Tahiti is like Shangri-La, but Moorea especially. Huge mountains of green rise up out of crystal-clear lagoons. There is a peace about Moorea, a quiet calm that even exceeds the other islands’, as if it is saying, “I know who I am.” Famous Cook’s Bay is on Moorea, along with Opunohu Bay, where Cook actually arrived, which we could see from our hopelessly romantic overwater bungalows at the Sheraton Moorea.

Shortly after we arrived on the island, our friend Bernard met us and took us out to a sandy patch called Stingray World, about five minutes from our resort. A young, local French couple had rowed an outrigger to the area and had brought a significant amount of fish scraps for the rays. The seabirds were joining in, too, all in a swirling festival of action. We arrived with Bernard at the climax. We jumped into the water just in time to see several blacktips curiously approaching the site. The small blacktips circled and darted in jolting movements, the birds dive-bombed and squawked, and the rays all but launched themselves out through the surface.

Ty Sawyer / Sport Diver

Taking place right before sunset, the action played out under a golden-blue glow in glass-clear water. Bernard spurred the action on with a few fish scraps of his own. I found myself once again stunned and stupid, but not because I was a new diver anymore — heck, I was up around 15 dives by now — but because I began to realize in the beauty and raw nature of that moment how small I was in relation to the world around me. Besides us, the only people there were locals. And the ocean was huge. The world I was just beginning to discover was so much more awesome than anything I had ever encountered. Even after the food was gone, we descended to a nearby channel, and the rays and sharks circled until darkness forced us out of the water.

The next day we were back to the famous sharks. On our first dive at the Tiki, about six lemons, which had no notion of personal space, a couple of grays and about 30 blacktips joined us on the outer reef. For about 30 minutes they were our personal entourage. By now I was blasé about sharks. They’d long lost their ability to make me shudder. It happens in Tahiti. They’re always there, like a shadow on a sunny day. In fact, you knew something was off if the sharks weren’t milling around.

Back to the Meatloaf
I’m looking at my family and remembering Tahiti. I think the next time we go, we may have to bring everyone along, yogurt and all. Tahiti is not a place you want to keep from anyone. It’s a place you need to share, to discover together. I still don’t have a single word that could possibly encompass it all, but I am sure when I invoke pure tutae moa the sharks and rays, diamond-blue lagoons and allure will all come welling up through the floor and sweep me off again to the most adventurous and romantic place on the blue Earth.

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