Blog 122 The Public Beach
September 22, 2022

The island of Bora Bora has embraced the tourism economy with numerous jobs for it 10,000 people. Jobs are plentiful commented Juli, the French woman who dreamed of living the beautiful Polynesia as a child. Now, raising her kids here, she works setting pearls and washing sailor's laundry. But there is a price for the tourism game. On many islands we has seen a frenetic pace as ships are disgorging tourists looking for experiences and souveniers followed by a collective exhaustion. Yesterday as we were looking for a map and the newly welded gooseneck, the main street was packed with cars and the chatter of last minute shopping for shells and patterned pieces of cloth before the cruise ship pulled up its anchor. The chartered sailboats add to the frenetic pulse. The boats dash up to the moorings quickly tie up. The visitors leap into dinghies and rush ashore for t-shirts and drinks at Bloody Mary's. Each morning the catamarans motor off to the next anchorage and in the afternoon a new wave arrives. The turn over day for charter boats is Friday or Saturday on the next Island, Ta'Hae so this morning the flock of charter boats headed east and no afternoon wave washed in. The remaining boats hum with wind generators, are decorated with solar panels and are outfitted with safety equipment like radars and man over board poles. Ashore the roads are quieter. The billionaires yacht anchored behind us has left. No gang of ATV's pass us. The island is exhaling, and the vista's are open.

Karl heads to his kite board lesson. The kiteboard school board is lowered into the water from its cradle. Behind it are the hotel paviollions and the sandy beach with pink and orange beach umbrellas. I will check out the public beach across the lane from the tall concrete wall surrounding the Intercontinental Resort and the umbrella beach.

On this morning long before the next cruise ship arrives next week together with a new wave of charter sailboats the beach is quiet. The caretaker, a slender Polynesian woman in her twenties is using a hose watering each palm tree surround the large tile floored thatched building overlooking the lagoon. When I worry about the sand on my feet she offers to hose off my feet. Under the roof with top a French woman leaving against a pole reads her book and 2 Poynesian women with a dancing 2 year old in a frilly dress sit on a food filled cooler near the concrete picnic tables waiting. Noodies, the grey birds, associated with approaching land, nest on top of the pavillion. As I settle in to knit a little before swimming a young family of three arrive on a black moped. The three year old girl is wearing a green owl helmet, her pregnant mother is wearing a flaming orange helmet and her dad a serious metal grey helmet. They stroll across the pavilion, dropping their bags and looking at the sea. The tourists come gawk at the water color take a photo or maybe a drone shoot and leave. The owl girl family is here to play. The father strolls into the water, smoking his golden e-cigarette. The little owl girl is pauses. Giggling she dashes back and forth between her plastic toys - a rubber duck, shovel and teacup and the water's edge. After her father puts away his e-smoke he holds his wife's hand and walks into water. The owl girl dances back and forth disappearing back to the moped. Her parents call her and finally she enters the water leaving the plastic toys behind. A water fight ensures and soon they are far from shore where the water is a little cooler. Her mother's blue sarong comes off becomes an inflatable water pillow. Finally they emerge from the water and head to the bathhouse to rinse off. The bathhouse looks like it should be at a room at the hotel across the street with intricate tiles, large mirrors and coral arrangements except for the no smoking in the showers sign. Soon the owl girl is curled up on a towel napping as her mother brushes her waist length hair and twists it into a topknot. What a day at the beach.

After Karl's lesson and
my swim, we leave the beach at the same time as the owl girl family. When I ask if I can take a picture of the owl helmet her father asks if we have a daughter and I show them a picture of Beryl in the snow on skis. He says they are very lucky to live on Bora Bora and welcomes us to his island. He asks if we are vacationers and we reply we are on a journey to Tasmania. He warns us to be careful on our bikes. We thank him then we all head home enjoying the open vista and quiet roads.