Thanksgiving Weekend at the Perfect Beach, Huahine Island

See the new album in the photo gallery!

During our dinner back at the anchorage at Fare (pronounced 'fahray') we talked about what we were thankful for this Thanksgiving. We came up with quite a few things. Namely, the fact that we are incredibly fortunate to be living the life we are living, which then lead us to talk about and appreciate the events of the weekend at the 'Perfect Beach'.
On Friday afternoon of Thanksgiving weekend, we motored away from the dock at Huahine and headed south between the island and its protective coral reef. Within an hour we were anchored in front of our favourite 'Perfect Beach'. The first thing we noticed was that the beach was not empty, as it had been the time before. There were tents and tarps strung along the middle section of the beach. We could also see lots of people moving about. That evening, we heard drums, ukuleles and singing.

There wasn't enough time to go to the beach, so we started on dinner and had a family meeting about the plan for the following day.
We arrived at the beach around mid morning. A lot was happening! Kids and adults were playing soccer, grandmas were lounging in the shallows near shore, fishermen were tending their nets, kids were riding a blow up whale in the water and others were kayaking. Smoking was rising from a fire in the main area and music was playing on boom boxes nearby.

What caught my attention though was the large rectangle which was drawn in the sand and the decorations that were being set around its perimeter by three young women. They had palm fronds, bird of paradise flowers and other beautiful flowers that they were putting into 2 foot long bamboo vases that had just been cut and sunken into the sand. I snapped up my camera, strolled over to where they were and asked what they were doing. It was for a presentation that they were doing in the evening, they said. One of the gals explained that they were a church group from a town called Fitii, nearby, who were bringing youths back to nature, back to the land. The presentation, starting at 8, was going to include dancing, music and history and would we like to come? Yes, thank you very much, we would, I answered.

Some of the kids on the beach recognized Maia, Zoe and Liam, so they were playing. We set up our beach stuff near the south end of the beach near where, Sikki, caretaker of the beach, had set up his tent and made a small fire.

The beach used to be part of a very exclusive resort and about 10 years ago a tornado - a very rare occurrence around here - wiped almost everything out. There are remnants of buildings, now overgrown with lush greenery, and bits of landscaping still visible. Some of the hotel rooms had been built into trees. We heard that Julio Iglesias used to own the beach and that Diana Ross put up her friends here when she celebrated her 40th or 50th birthday on nearby Bora Bora. This is what were we told, so I'm not sure about all the facts.

The beach is now being taken care of a retired Polynesian called Sikki, who served in the French army as a parachutist, he told us this proudly when we met him the first time we'd come. He remembered us when we arrived this weekend and welcomed us warmly.

He spends his time making sure that the beach is tidy when visitors come and he cleans up after they leave. He collects fire wood and leaves it in the wood shed by the building (which this weekend had been taken over by the local group). He greets boats anchored off the beach and tells them about the beach's history. He displays his jewelry made from shells, vanilla pods and various other natural materials.

After an afternoon of Frisbee, badminton, swimming and sitting by the fire, we went back to Gromit, to prepare our dinner. We had asked Sikki, if he would mind if we use his fire for our dinner pancakes. There is no real French word that I could come up with for what we know as pancakes, thick and fluffy. Crepes are a very, very thin and can't really be called pancakes, so I came up with my own name for them: Canadian crepes. I thought this might convey the idea to Sikki.

After dinner, around 8 we were called to the presentation. It started with songs accompanied by guitars, ukuleles and drums. Then 6 Polynesian gals danced a traditional dance after which an elder of the group took the sand stage to tell of the history of the area. Unfortunately, we couldn't learn anything, because it was all spoken in Tahitian. More dancing and singing followed and more history. Then to our great surprise, we were invited to join them on the sand stage and do some dancing. Oh my gosh. We couldn't hide behind the great hordes in the audience, because we were the audience; the Gromits and a lovely Canadian couple on a boat named Demelza! There were only 3 other people watching and they were Polynesian, so they were happy to get up and dance.

To start, Dave and Elizabeth were partnered up with Polynesians and taught what to do, and then the music started. Then it was Maia and my turn. After us came Michael and Zoe. Liam flat refused! Polynesian dancing has a lot of hip and foot movement. It is incredible to see, even at a very young age, how the women and children here can move their hips. It is akin to belly dancing in the Middle East, but I'd say, even more intricate. I gave it my best try, but I felt that I was hardly moving compared to their fast, fluid movements. It was great fun. Even the burst of rain during the performance fit right in, in this tropical world.

We were also invited to their meditation the next morning which we declined, because we had wanted to go early to check out the other side of the island for anchorage possibilities and still have beach time before it was time to go back to Fare. We did our exploration and then returned to the beach near noon. Almost as soon as we got there, the three gals whom I had spoken to the day before, came to us and invited us for lunch. We felt honored.

It was great because the whole meal was completely made up of traditional Polynesian foods. I took pictures and will post them in the photo gallery. There were some really great flavours and textures. Some were fantastic and others not so good. Nevertheless, it was thrilling to finally have the chance to eat traditional food. You would think that living on an island in French Polynesian would present lots of opportunity to eat traditionally, but it is not so. The grocery store is full of products from France and New Zealand. The market stalls outside the grocery store do sell local traditional vegetables, but I've never bought any as I don't know how to cook things like taro root and tapioca plant. I'm hoping to be able to take some local cooking lesson so that I can learn.

So, over our Sunday evening Thanksgiving dinner of roast chicken, gravy, smashed potatoes (as they are known in Michael's family), and green beans topped with butter roasted almonds, we looked back over our very wonderful weekend and were truly grateful for the fantastic experiences we'd had.