We took the water taxi across the pass to Tiputa this morning. It was always our plan to explore the next set of motus as far as our bikes would take us. But I also needed a post office, since I had to pay the school taxes for our cabin in upstate NY, and it turns out I could not pay them online (unlike the town tax).

The closest post office was right by the wharf in Tiputa. I asked the young man behind the counter if I could “depeche” the tax check, and he responded in a English that it was possible. He then furiously typed at his keyboard, and eventually picked up the phone to ask someone how to send something via equivalent of priority mail. That will be 315 francs, about the equivalent of $3.00. He put a bar code sticker on the envelope, typed at the keyboard, then apologized that the computer was not connecting and would not accept the payment.

So I ended up waiting and chatting with the clerk while he waited for the computer to connect. I asked him what Fare Raka, the Polynesia. name for the post office meant. It means “home letter.” And the polynesian style logo that looks like a fish depicts a flying fish - an apt symbol for the polynesian post. They have a new logo though, more modern, less distinctly polynesian.

Raimiti was very interested that we came from New York. He had traveled to the United Staes last year, and visited the Santa Monica pier, the Grand Canyon, and Bryce Canyon and Zion national parks in Utah - very excited to see snow. Here on Polynesia children throw ss balls at each other instead of snowballs, which hurt more only because you are not wearing bulky clothing. At about this point, Robin came in, and Raimiti showed us pictures of his trip on his cell phone.

A sign outside the post office said masks were required, and that only one patron could enter the building at a time. The mask requirement was universally ignored, but the one patron limit was strictly observed. Which meant that a crowd was gathering outside the post office waiting to get in.

Raimiti eventually got the computer to accept the registered mail transaction, and then pulled out a book of stamps, and asked us which ones we liked. He then painstakingly cut out about fifteen stamps or so, laid them out in an overlapping pattern on the envelope, and individually dampened each one and placed them on the envelope. The same for the eight postcards we were mailing. We said our good byes, and gave Raimiti our card so he could let us know if he ever made it to New York.

All in all, it took over an hour to mail our letter and postcards. Robin had chatted up a woman outside who said Raimiti was new, and referred to him as “the intern.”

We biked around Tiputa Village - the former center of Rangiroa, before they built the airport in Avatoru, which moved all the tourist development to the other side of the pass (the side we are anchored on). Manicured yards, cultivated flower bushes, and stone walls lining the main road lent a summer community air to the place.

After circling the village, we set off on our unguided bike ride, intending to head east along the atoll as far as the road would take us, riding today into the wind with the Pacific breaking on coral on our left and the deep blue lagoon peeking through the trees on our right. The vegetation became more sparse as we went, and the road ran though graded coral rubble in places.

We crossed several stretches of hard coral beds that separated motus, with channels in the middle. Eventually we got to a place that seemed to be more tire tracks on coral than road. I loaded Google maps on my phone, and it showed us as being in the ocean between motus. Since the tide was coming in, it seemed like a good idea to turn around.

We had lunch back on board the Mabel Rose, then loaded our snorkels and fins in the kayaks and paddled to the island and reef known locally as the aquarium. There were buoys marking a “sentier aquatique” or water trail. The chop was still running a bit strong, so we hesitated a little - no one else seemed to be snorkeling today, and the tourist boat had tied to a buoy for a while then left without putting any tourists in the water.

But the water by the island was calm, and we stepped in and swam to the buoyed water trail, as nd the water was fine. Best snorkeling ever! - the corals looked healthy and glowed colorfully in the clear water with purples and reds and yellows. We saw mostly small reef fish, including some beautiful yellow and black Angel fish, and some needle fish.

Then back to the boat for afternoon tea and time to start the risotto for sunset dinner. Life is good in this tropical paradise. We learned yesterday that there is an island festival here starting on Monday, with traditional polynesian dancing and sailing outrigger races. So we have decided to stay right here until then.