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Silver Lining owners Alfred and Phyllis Balm experience the warm embrace of island hospitality on a small motu near Moorea.
by Alfred H. Balm
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06/01/2005
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The sunlight reflected from her cinnamon-colored skin, a
Gauguin painting come to life. In the bow of the canoe she sat motionless,
almost serene, staring at the island we were approaching. She was dressed in
colorful Tahitian cotton, flowers artistically woven into a halo crowning her
long black hair.
 The girl respectfully navigated the canoe through the coral
beds, moving us toward a white sandy beach. We could see people on the
shore, several families apparently, also wearing traditional colors and flowers
in their hair. Children started running toward us, but Grandma intercepted them.
Then a melodious chant reached us across the water, a sound as old as the world.
The song was repeated several times, while bodies swayed with the rhythm and
flowers were scattered onto the water. It sounded like: Ua koakoa ma’ua, ua ite tatou I te
ihepe. The
girl translated, "We are pleased; we saw the ship. (Click image to enlarge)
"It’s a welcome to you," she continued. Standing in the bow
spreading both arms to the island and the welcoming party, she answered the
invitation with a chant of her own. The formalities over, we waded ashore and
received a flowery reception, with kisses and smiles all around, as if a
long-lost family member had returned home.
The tiny island was Motu Moea, an islet off Moorea in French
Polynesia. Our 155-foot Christensen motor yacht, Silver Lining, was
anchored in Moorea’s Opunohu Bay on the spot where The Bounty was filmed.
From our anchorage we had a magnificent view of the mountains encircling the
bay. Palm trees lining the beaches provided shade for the few Polynesian-style
dwellings. Around our boat, tropical fish as colorful as the coral reef they
inhabited could be seen through crystal-clear emerald water at least 30 feet
deep.
Silver Lining (top), dropped her hook in
Opunohu Bay (Bottom). A favorite of Captain Cook, the sheltered bay is one of two
on Moorea’s north coast with secure yacht anchorages. Bottom photograph by Neil Rabinowitz. (Click images to enlarge)
On the beach, two men started playing guitar and ukulele, while
under the palm trees a table was set. Next to it stood a cornucopia of
sun-ripened tropical fruits and strings of fresh, colorful fish. And next to the
rum cocktail-filled coconuts topped with hibiscus flowers, I was pleased to spot
a cold beer.
We were soon introduced to Jean-Pierre Aubourg and Maire Maiau,
who seemed to own the island. As we would find out later, they deserve our
respect and support for almost single-handedly creating a natural park on the
land and in the lagoons surrounding their property, Maiau Beach Garden, keeping
non-native products at bay and preserving the species and coral reefs with great
care and effort.
But now a delicate scent reached our hungry group. A bit
farther inland, closer to the one and only charming Polynesian building on the
island, smoke was spiraling upward from a hole in the ground covered by banana
leaves and sacks, the traditional Polynesian earth oven in which a pig was
roasted, together with chicken and delicious sweet potatoes. We were invited to
this tamaara’a and would experience the traditional hospitality and savor
the umara fafa, fe’i and taro. One can only wonder why, with the
French influence here, this exquisite cuisine was never honored with some
Michelin stars.
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