Whenever I think back of any images I had ever seen from the South Pacific, it has always been of a love locked couple strewn in the shallows of a desolate white beach edged with hundreds of lofty palm trees and cradled in the arms of the luscious emerald green mountain. Now I understand why that is so - and it is not because the Island of Huahini means "sex" as they state. (That meaning clearly should have been granted to Moorea as over 50% of that island's population are under the age of 25 years old). No, it is because you have just accomplished the 16 hour overnight passage from Moorea Island to Huahini Hui Island and unlike the Puddle Jump you don't have time to adjust. You leave with other boats in the fleet and you are on alert for the passage. Therefore, once you have anchored and finish bedding down the boat, you are keen to see the island we get the dingy to shore and find a shady spot on the beach, and we collapse in the peace and quiet of paradise. I realise as I lie there that must be where this perfect representation for paradise must have come about. I woke when as he who dreams of humming dashed to save our impatient dingy adrift and bobbing for the reef. Just as these old photographs were styled, we too lie back with beach hair, however the open mouth and drool we had going on was not from passion - more fatigue, but the rest of the picture is as true as you see on the postcards.
We had anchored Condesa just off this little white coral beach we had "fallen for", and so sundowners on the beach was in order as we had a full moon in store for us. The invitation extended to others yachts anchored on the far side of the pass in pretty peppermint coloured waters of a lagoon that is equally as beautiful. Although, to quote John off Red Sky as he grasps his head in utter disbelief that over in his anchorage is "JUST STUNNING!!".
We sat amongst 12 yachties who we didn't know well (last week) but had something amazing in common this week having arrived in a small fleet hours apart. I savoured the moments as the island blazed in sunset colour and then dissolved into a black and white negative of the night. I inhaled the surrounds while the full moon lifted from the mountain to create a stage that will be etched forever.
Behind me are.... he who hums, sitting on the log alongside our old sailing buddies off Red Sky sharing "humming-like" stories with 2 other sailors. Now we have the break working on the shaft all stories are good ones. Just in front of me 2 new arrivals who had just met, playing their guitars in perfect unison. There is a young boy on summer break with his father, who together are skipping stones, now silhouetted on the smooth water beyond the classical jam session. To the left and under the palm tree are the 3 young sailors, who don't realise how many people die from falling coconuts and are not worried. Added here is the 10 yr old local girl with big eyes and equally as big smile, who has climbed part way of that leaning tree and is perched to watch either - the boys get knocked out by a coconut, or our ideal gathering in the twilight of her "front yard".
There was absolutely nothing to chase us off this piece of paradise as the weather is perfect and we haven't seen a bug since we left home. So after a few hours someone broke the stillness framed by music and we returned across the marbled-glass water that was so clear under the moon's leading light we could see Condesa's anchor chain pointing to the white sandy bottom 50ft down. We scamper up the ladder and have time to discuss our few days here and plan our 4 hour passage to Raiatea Island. We then drop into the bunk and listen to the braking waves off the reef just behind us where we will see the keen out surfing out the back window as soon as I open my eyes.