September 25

September 25

Today we decided that we would hike into the canyon. Not on the Bright Angel Trail, which is more popular because it is less steep, but the South Kaibab Trail. Incidentally, the Bright Angel Trail was first used and created by the Anasazi (now called the ancestral pueblo people). The Parks service created the South Kaibab Trail early in the Park’s history when some guy decided to get rich by charging a fee to walk the Bright Angel Trail. People walk South Kaibab Trail because you get great views out into the canyon after only 2km (the Bright Angel Trail takes 9km).

We hiked down steep switchbacks to Ooh Ah Point, a narrow jetty of sandstone boulders. Mules, the traditional Grand Canyon transportation animals, passed us twice. We were told to stay to the inside of the trail, a good thing when the other side is a vertical cliff. Mules are a cross between a horse and donkey. They look like it too, with their long floppy ears, horse height and stumpy tails. They are used instead of a pure breed because they are don’t startle easily, are surefooted and have a very smooth gate.

• Look at the pictures, they describe what my words can’t.

After a rushed dinner at camp, we went to get an “inner city experience”—viewing the Grand Canyon Imax. The footage was unbelievable, giving us a very intimate view of the canyon. When the camera flew over the edge of the Canyon rim, I thought “so this is what it feels like to be a Condor”. The movie provided great information on the early history of how the canyon was discovered and explored, but no science or recent canyon history.

September 24

September 24

Our first day at the Grand Canyon. We had decided that we would walk along the Rim Trail in the morning, see the Grand Canyon Imax in the heat of the day, and then do a quick hike into the canyon later in the “cool” of the afternoon. We only actually completed the first part.

The Grand Canyon was formed bycomplicated and lengthy geological events. Two billion years ago, the plate that became North America collided with another plate. The resulting heat and pressure shaped the metamorphic basement rocks, the bottom layer of the canyon. The second layer up from the bottom is the “Grand Canyon Supergroup”, a mix of limestone and lava. The rest of the rocks above this were formed when this area was under the ocean. They are made up of oceanic silt and dead animal and plant debris that got compressed into the horizontal layers we see today. 70 million years ago the Rocky Mountains began to form and the Colorado plateau rose, with very little shifting and buckling of the strata. This uplift set the stage for the Grand Canyon. By 5 or 6 million years ago the Colorado river was formed by water draining down from the Rockies. The water flowed across the Colorado Plateau and down to the Gulf of California. Gravel and sand was washed into the Colorado river, scraping away at the soft limestone of the Colorado Plateau as the bits of sediment were swept along. Tributaries to the Colorado carved side canyons into the stone, increasing the width of the canyon. The water eroded the softer rock first, undercutting the harder rock, making those parts collapse. The pinnacles and towers were formed when two side canyons carved away the softer rock between them, leaving the hard rock in place. (Thanks to Grand Canyon National Park interpretive materials for providing the informationI used for this geological explanation)

How do I describe the Grand Canyon? The sheer colorful walls, the towering buttresses, the inner canyon…

The top of the Kaibab Plateau leading up to the Canyon is flat, covered with trees (like Ponderosa Pine) – very similar to the interior of B.C. Suddenly the trees stop, or sink down. That is the edge of the Canyon, appearing in front of you with no warning. Behind the drop off are different layers of rock, from different geological periods. It is hard to tell what is the top of a ridge, or just a bold red line. There are pinnacles and spires separating each side canyon, ridges leading out to the center and … down, down, … way down, is the Inner Canyon. About half way down is a flattish plateau – below the first major cliffs. The edge of the Inner Canyon falls away from that plateau to the Colorado river below. The Grand Canyon can be up to 29km wide and 1.6km deep. We were on the South Rim. It is hotter, lower elevation and supposedly less beautiful than the North Rim. I think that the North side can’t possibly be more scenic. My words aren’t adequate to describe how magnificent the Canyon is. My father’s pictures do a good job, however, nothing can really capture the canyon.

California Condors originally lived in the Grand Canyon, but between them being hunted as pests and DDT softening their eggs, their populations declined and eventually there where no Condors in the Grand Canyon, and only 23 in California. Then scientists stepped in and started taking control of the population. The California Condors have been reintroduced to the Grand Canyon and are doing really well. We kept our eyes peeled and scanned the canyon skies for the three meter wingspan birds. In the two days we spent at the canyon we only saw one Condor, and that briefly. The Condor dwarfed the Ravens, and Turkey Vultures who were flying with it, looking large even thought it was far away.

Our hike along the Rim Trail took us the whole day. We dawdled by the sheer red cliffs, looked everywhere for Condors, found archaeological sites in the forest just off the trail, drank ALL our water, gawked at the squirrels running up and down the canyon edge and the ones that came right up to you begging for food. We could see their noses twitching at our food. I have a fear of heights and stayed more than half a meter away from the ledge. But Georgie and Daddy scrambled right near the precipice with a 100 meter drop. If I went that close—well, I won’t even go into my reaction.

Another night spent in the same campground. No Coyotes.

September 23

September 23

We camped in an RV campground last night, an experience. There were very few either trees or campers. Most of the people were traveling in huge gas-guzzling machines. You would think that they must have been very rich, to pay for all that gas. We broke camp as soon as we woke up, not even cooking breakfast. Soon, we crossed the border into Arizona.

About an hour later we arrived in a one-street town named Golden Shores, on Route 66. If you ever pass through Golden Shores, you should eat at Linda’s café. The walls are plastered in useful sayings, like “we have not been standing idle, we have been building the world’s largest shopping mall!” quoting George Bush. Where there weren’t witty sayings, there were Elvis and Marylyn Monroe pictures. Outside, welcoming us was a two-meter tall pink panther cutout. The food was a mix of typical diner food and Mexican items. I ordered a Mexican version of scrambled eggs, and it was the best thing that we ordered.

Between Golden Shores and Oatman, the next town, was a land of scrub brush and red mountains. The mountains were worthy of Vancouver, but there were no trees, in fact, nothing taller than cacti. The most common plant looked like they were several pipe cleaners attached to a thick central pipe cleaner. The bunch of springy bits at the top were a chalky yellow, and the lower bits were gray, kind of like the way the lower leaves on palm trees are dead.

In the Oatman suburbs (two houses and old tin shed), Rout 66 was blocked by a herd of wild Burros ( also known as donkeys). They didn’t move for anyone, so if a car came along, you had to drive around them. There were several Burros without a baby, and three with babies. One of the Burros looked only a couple days old. It had big knees, and weaved back and forth with each step. The other babies were older and covered in a gray fluff. While we were gaping at the Burros, they started ambling towards us. Our windows were down, to keep us cool, and we got our faces full of Burro noses. To get rid of them you had to reach out, as if you were going to touch their noses. They shied away and we were able to drive on into Oatman itself.

Oatman is a one street town (the highway) and is lined with shops for the tourists that pass through. Oatman’s claim to fame is that it is a ghost town that refuses to die. At noon, there was a “shoot out”. The townsfolk put on a show to raise money for their “transport children to the hospital fund”. The two “cowboys” were firing with blanks and the whole play was about them killing each other. It was very funny.

We got to our campground just out side of the Grand Canyon National Park just as the sun was setting. We set up our sleeping bags and sleep screens, like little tiny tents of mosquito netting, but just for our upper bodies. After a deluxe camping dinner we fell into bed, looking forward to seeing the Grand Canyon the next day. Our sleep was punctuated by the coyotes. They were two groups of them, so we were surrounded by sound. Coyotes sound like the worst soprano opera singer, low yips, and then letting the sound carry into a high whine. They sing a combination off barking and howling. They sound like they are laughing. It was the first time I had heard Coyotes.

September 22

September 22

In a few hours we will leaving LA. This morning is the coolest and wettest it has been since we arrived. But the fog is burning off and it will be hot later. There are actually dew drops on the ground. Now is the time for a walk, not in the middle of the day, when the sun is at full strength! Over the past week we have done many such walks in the canyon behind my cousins’ house. I thought I was in shape, but I guess not; the switchbacks up the side of the canyon left me breathing hard. And some people run it! I tried running up a hill once, I was exhausted at the top. Of course, the sun was hot and it was at the end of our walk.

LA is a huge, sprawling, polluted city. When we were just about to land in LA coming back from Tahiti, I got a good sense of the city. The horizon was brown with smog, and, as far as the eye could see, all was high rises. My cousins don’t actually live in LA, thank goodness. They live in Thousand Oaks, a suburb that is farther out than LA. Here, we are backing onto a canyon in one direction, and the city in the other. It is actually quite beautiful here, in a brown desert sort of way. However, heading towards LA, there is no break between the cities, they just continue on in to each other. There is no real Vancouver-style green here. Even in the more natural areas it is semi desert, at this time of year most of the plants are brown. As you drive past all the dead bits of green it reinforces the idea of pollution and waste.

We went out for dinner last night to a Sushi place that was close by. It took 10 minutes to get there. I wonder if “close” here means 10 -15 minutes away. I would say “close” is walking distance, five minutes max. in a car. Not only is time distorted, but roads are too. To get from point A to point B, you have to get on the freeway, a four lane highway, just to drive for fifteen minutes. Unless of course where you are going is in your neighborhood. The highways sides are blanketed in strip malls. Remember, this is on the outskirts of the city. The inner city of LA is a gang city. There is gang violence, and everything that follows. Inner city LA is not someplace I would like to be at night, or even in the day.

Now we are off to Arizona!

September 14/15

September 14^th: Our last day on Fakarava…Why couldn’t it have been sunny? It cleared up mid-morning, but we were all tired from the rain and the wind in the night. Eric announced that we would be going back to the red sands beach. Momma had decided that she would kayak there and Sue and I decided to go with her. Even though the wind had died down considerably, it was still a grunt, especially because I was tired and the sun was hot. Half way to the beach we stopped for a quick dip in the lagoon. It was refreshing while I was in the water, but afterward it only made me more tired. When we finally reached the red sands beach, Eric was just arriving to take everyone else home. I grabbed my chance and caught a ride back in the boat. It was a good thing too, I almost fell asleep in the on the way back.

At 2:30 we took the boat back to the North end of Fakarava to catch our 6:oo flight to Tahiti. The boat ride was the same length of time as the way there, but for a different reason. We had to take shelter several times to wait for the rain to pass. After Raimiti, the airport felt like a big city. Customs at the airport consisted of a long line where you checked in your baggage and showed your passports. The fight to Tahiti was noisy and uneventful.

There was a surprise waiting for us at the Tahiti airport. Teremoana was supposed to meet us in order to give Sue her survey equipment. Instead, the whole family came over from Mo’orea, except Romilda, who was working. We were overjoyed at seeing them again, but were sad we would have to say goodbye again in two hours. As the time came for us to board the plane, we were strung with more shell necklaces. Paulette and Momma started crying, everyone was heartbroken too. We all waved until they were lost behind the crush of people.

Changes to September 15^th somewhere in here: We went from a 48 seater airplane (Fakarava to Papeete) to a 340 seater (Papeete to LA). A huge difference. It was delayed taking off, so instead of 10:30pm, we started flying at 11:30pm. We were all exhausted from our day of traveling, and we weren’t done yet. The flight was scheduled to arrive in to LA at 10:30am. That is a nine hour redeye flight, my first redeye. I normally can’t fall asleep on planes, but I guess I was really tired. I woke up several times in the night: my blanket was slipping off, my feet were cold, my neck was sore from flopping onto my chest, and my legs were cramping…It was an uncomfortable flight and I got only five hours of sleep.

Landing in LA on the 15^th gave us all a severe case of culture shock. From little town to big city, French to LA drawl, a relaxed way of life to the hyped-up US. We all miss French Polynesia.

My Painting

I finished the painting that I was working on in Mo'orea. It actually looks how it is supposed to. However, since it looks so good, I gave it to Romilda as a Thank you present for staying in her house. The brown bit on the side is the table the painting was sitting on when it was photographed.

September 12/13

September 12^th:

The pass is one of my favorite parts of Raimiti, well that and the food. The food continues to surpass my wildest dreams. With two courses and an elaborate dessert I am definitely overeating at each meal. When I wake up in the morning, I am still full from dinner. But somehow I manage to force the fresh croissants past my lips. Such hardships.

But I was talking about the pass. It is not so much a wall of coral, as a steep slope. In some places I can see where the coral ends in sand. In other places, the coral continues on, until my view is lost is inky blackness. I swim quickly back towards the light, color and relative shallowness of the coral slope.

I am starting to measure my days by the pass. That was pass day one. That was a no pass day. Today was pass day number three. Yesterday was pass day number two. So on pass day two, I finally conquered my fear—I jumped in the water! I mean, fell into the water. I probably looked like an offended cat. I put my snorkel in to the water right away (so as not to as miss anything) and was immediately rewarded. There were six huge black tipped reef sharks (at least two meters) circling beneath us. It was a shock. They remain the most amount of sharks I have seen all together at one time.

After we had been swimming for several minutes, we saw a new species. Gliding below us was an Eagle Ray. They look kind of like a bigger version of Sting Rays. Eagle Ray’s heads are oblong, and stick out from their main bodies, hence the name for a bird. Instead of one barb on their tale, they have three. The rays’ bodies are black, covered with pale grey spots. We unfortunately saw only one: it was 15 meters below us and was winging along pretty fast.

Near the end of our snorkel/drift there is a big school of fish. They are Needle Fish, skinny bodies, long narrow noses and their bodies are silver. When I swim towards them, the school parts, half one way and half the other. The school is so big, that when the first fishes move, the last fishes haven’t moved yet. So you become surrounded by fish. You can hang suspended in the middle of them indefinitely, because they don’t swim away. Looking out, you see a ring of silver bodies. It is very cool to be surrounded by fish.

There are two other couples and one single woman staying at Raimiti. The couples are German, the lady is French. German couple number one left the same day as us. German couple number two took lots of pictures—with an underwater camera. So when they send us some images, or put them on a website, I will provide a link to the site, or just include the pictures.

September 13^th:

Pass day number three dawned with no rain clouds clouding the horizon. We had high hopes that maybe it wouldn’t rain at all, and it didn’t. As we got to the mouth of the pass Eric announced we would be doing something different. What we would do was potentially dangerous if we didn’t follow the directions, but was otherwise perfectly safe. We had a choice whether or not to do it, but everyone in my family decided to give it a try.

There is current in the pass that changes directions depending on the tides. People only ever swim in the pass when the current caries you inside the lagoon. It is dangerous when the current goes the other way, because you would be powerless to get back inside. We got dropped off near the opening of the pass, as usual, and spent our time drifting and gawking at the fish.

First potentially fatal part: Right after we normally get out of the water is an over water restaurant. As a tourist attraction, they feed the sharks and Moray Eels from the safety of the dock. Now, think. These predators associate humans with food. What happens when something stronger than you, with teeth, comes up to you and is hungry? Either you give it food, or it takes food. We all gave the restaurant a wide birth and no one was eaten. However, more sharks than normal congregated around the restaurant area. They were White Tipped Reef sharks. They are bigger than the Black Tipped Reef sharks and scarier looking too.

Second potentially fatal part: Where the pass narrows, it gets shallower. Now science geeks, what happens to a current when the river gets shallower? It gets quicker. So this current, already difficult to swim against, got about ten times stronger. But that isn’t what is dangerous. There are some old fish traps right smack in the middle of the strongest part of current. There are metal stakes in the fish trap. Great for vampires, but bad for everyone else, it could be fatal to get swept into the trap. All we had to do was navigate around the fish trap and then drift to the beach. I got separated from my partner, Momma (she was busy telling a French idiot off for walking on the coral), so I was swept along unable to get to anyone. I tried swimming against the current, but, even swimming with my fins as strongly as I could, I was being pushed backwards. And stronger swimmers than me had the current do the same to them.

While I was being swept along I was worrying. I was apprehensive about how it would end, would I be swept up on a beach? Or would I be smashed into the coral? Instead, I was carried along too far into the lagoon. I had to swim out of the current and then swim back up to the beach. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. It was disheartening to see myself only move a couple of cm each minute.

But after I realized I couldn’t do anything, I started to enjoy myself. It was how I imagine riding an air current to be like. You didn’t need to power yourself, only steer. The coral beneath me was a solid unbroken crust that was whisked away from my eyes almost to quickly for me to have seen it. There were no fish out swimming, the current being to strong –but there were little pockets in the coral, dips in the crust. That was where the fish were. They were protected from the current there, and so the pockets were filled with hundreds of bright fish that sparkled out of the gloom.

Next we went to an atoll, a bird atoll. There were always at least hundreds of birds in the air, swarming above the island at all times. You could smell the island, the stink of thousands birds. The air was filled with their cries. There were baby birds still in the nests, birds building nests, and young ones in between the two ages.

Dinner’s appetizer that night was inedible for me. There were about ten baby octopi that had been sautéed in garlic. This was after we had seen the live version. I couldn’t even look at the poor babies. Also, maybe worse, was that they were flown in from the US to appease French tastes.

september 11

Georgie should be renamed. He should now be known as “curious George”. As soon as he saw the Triton horn being blown, he asked Momma to do some translating. So Momma asked one of the staff if she could teach Georgie how to blow the Triton. Moe (short for Moeana) taught Georgie how, and he took to it like a natural. From then on, if Georgie was at the kitchen in time, they both blew the two horns to summon us for meals.

Blowing the Triton horn is like blowing a trumpet. You purse your lips, make them vibrate and breath out slowly. Then voila! you get a deep, rich, mahogany sound. I could only get the sound sporadically, Georgie got it every time.

Today is a non-pass day. We were driven to a beach that we could see far off in the distance. Eric said we he would come back to get us in two hours. We hoped he would have the sense that if it started raining he would come back earlier to pick it up. Stranded! But we had our swim stuff so we spent the afternoon snorkeling. We struck gold immediately when we saw a meter-long octopus when it was fully extended. Then later, we saw two more octopi. They looked like they were on a date, holding hands and everything. One of them was bright red, while the other looked like a piece of coral. Maybe it was shy.

Where there aren’t that many species of fish, my eyes turn to the coral formations and other brightly coloured things. My favorite isn’t actually coral, but a clam. They are called Tridacna – the “Giant Clams” of legend. All you can see of them is the irridescent rippled edges of their shell sticking out of the coral. In between the two halves of the shells are the clam’s lips. Their lips come in the most outlandish colors. There are mottled green and purple ones, blue an purple, blue and green. They live in dead corals too, so I was guaranteed to see splashes of coral whenever I stuck my mask beneath the water. The pictures of Tridacna you see here aren’t ours: we don’t have an underwater camera. They are from the internet: http://www.aquasearch.net.au/aqua/clamculture.htm. The green clam is from http://www.saltwaterearth.com/welcome/ index.php?main_page=index&cPath=1_20.

When I dove down to take a closer look at the clams they could sense movement. The first step was for them to suck their lips in, but you could still see them, and for the shell to close slightly. If I got closer still, the lips would get drawn completely in and the shell would close more so nothing could pass through.

September 10

This morning Eric announced that we would be going to the pass. Raimiti is closer to the southern pass, Tumakohua, which is smaller than the one at the north end of the atoll. The locals say that Tumakohua is the prettiest pass in the Tuamotus. As we arrived to the pass, the choppy swells looked ominous and foreboding. You couldn’t see past the steely blue surface, and my swimming apprehension leapt up higher once Eric said we had to jump in the water from the side of the boat (1.5 meters above the ocean). My friends know that I am a wimp when it comes to water. I don’t jump in any water, especially not in half-meter swells where everything looks scary! Instead of jumping, I slid down and held on to the edges of the boat before letting go. I got rebuked for doing this, as it is dangerous, and told I needed to jump next time.

Once I was in the water all my fears evaporated. I was looking at a wall of coral. The coral started about 30 centimeters below the surface and stayed level until the beach. Where we were swimming though, was over the steep slope of coral going down to the bottom of the pass. At the floor of the lagoon, the coral didn’t end, but it shifted to a more gradual slope. Since it wasn’t sunny, the corals color wasn’t eye smarting, but it was still very vibrant. There were blues, purples, reds, yellows and greens. The textures were mind-boggling. There were brain corals that had lovely gentle lumps, branch corals with spiky arms. Some looked like a popcorn conglomerate, while others looked like the upward brushstrokes of a painter. Some were massive, easily larger than me, while other were small and delicate, with a multitude of little branches.

And the fish were indescribable, you would have to have been there to be able to appreciate all the different shapes sizes and colors. There were parrotfish of several different varieties, meter long five cm tall yellow trumpet fish, and many others that I don’t know the name of. There were little blue green ones that hang out in huge schools. When I dove down to see them better, they sunk just a couple feet lower, but too low for me to go. Their color flickers with each flick of their tails, so it is hard to tell what color they really are. But one thing all the fish had in common, they were bright and colorful. At a quick glance the reef looked like a crazy painters canvas, with large splashes of color all over the place. Of course, sharks are fish too, and there were plenty of them. They have long graceful, sleek bodies that move effortlessly through the water. At first each one I saw was a cause for pointing and amazement, but there were so many of them that, while they were still appreciated, they no longer set my heart racing. Luckily, it was only after I got out that they started coming in shallower, to a little sheltered pool. The sight of four or five 6 feet long sharks in meter and a half water would have made me quite panicky.

At the end of our swim, right before we were going to get out, it started raining. The water got all cloudy and I started shivering. But I saw a Napoleon. Napoleons are meter long (at the smallest) bright turquoise fish (wrasses). They are magnificent.

The Napoleon Wrasses, along with the Triton , are the only natural predators of the Crown of Thorns Starfish. The Crown of Thorns Starfish are naturally occurring enormous starfish that eat the coral reefs. In the past, their numbers have been held in check, but recently, with the over fishing of the Napoleon and gathering of Tritons shells for tourists, the starfish’s numbers re rising. The Crown of Thorns Starfish, combined with effects global warming (increased ocean temperature and higher UV) pose a serious problem for the coral reefs.

September 9

Raimiti is even lovelier in the morning than it is at night. It helps that you aren’t cold, tired and hungry. Breakfast was delightful, fresh, warm buttery croissants and fruit.

Our bed clothes were damp, so I hung them up from the ceiling, hoping they would air dry. They did, but then they got damp again when it started raining. It rains like Vancouver here, except that the weather changes every half hour, so even though it is raining you can have a nice day. But still, everything is damp, from our clothes to our sheets. Once something is wet, it stays so. Our bathing suits haven’t dried yet.

In our little fare we have branches for hanging clothes on. I hung a pair of shorts on it, hoping that it might get a little less damp. No such luck. But they did gain some white bits—Gecko poo. The Geckos run everywhere, inside the cabin and out. Nowhere is safe from them. Though only my shorts were blessed enough to have the Geckos poo on them.

Upon seeing the kayaks, Momma seized on an idea to paddle up the “coast”. You have to understand, you can always see the other side of the “coast”. The highest land gets is one meter above the lagoon, when the ocean rises more than a meter in the next century, all the Tuamotus will be under water. I was in the single and Momma and Georgie were in a double. The single was so short that with each strong paddle stroke the bow bobbed back and forth like an uncertain fish. The dogs, deciding they didn’t want to be left out, shadowed our progress on the shore. When we stopped, they stopped, when we swam, they swam.

We eventually reached Momma’s destination, a beautiful little cove that reached back almost to the open ocean. Thanks to Daddy’s suggestion, we had brought our masks, but not our fins. We went swimming anyway, but our strokes lacked the power and effortlessness we usually had. There were a few solitary coral heads abundant with fish, but in between those, there was sand, sand, and more sand. You couldn’t even see the other coral heads when you were in between two. All that was apparently there was turquoise fading off in to royal blue. Then there would be an indistinct dark shape rising out of the sand—the coral lump.

We made it back just in time for lunch at noon. There were two types of salad, and my favorite, onion quiche. Delicious. The afternoon was spent in an anticipation of diner and a late snorkel. Dinner was good, but not as good as the first nights appetizer.

September 8

We said a tearful goodbye to Paulette at the ferry terminal (we had said goodbye to everyone else the previous night) and boarded the boat with Taufa. In accordance with an old tradition we were strung with shell necklaces. Taufa rode the ferry to Tahiti with us, because he had shopping to do. I think it was to make sure we got a cab to the airport and to make sure we wouldn’t get into any trouble.

Raimiti, our final destination today, is a pension. It is located at the south end of Raimiti’s lagoon, and is accessible only by boat. Raimiti is on Fakarava. Fakarava is in the Tuamotus. The Tuamotus are a chain of atolls. In case you have forgotten, atolls are compressed coral islands. Most of them are the old fringing reef of a volcanic island. Except that their volcanoes has sunk beneath the waves, leaving behind a normally calm lagoon. Fakarava has two passes, one at each end of the lagoon. Fakarava also has the second biggest lagoon in Tuamotus, the biggest being Rangiroa’s.

The airplane we boarded sat 48 people and the muffler was going, or maybe there wasn’t one. It was a bi-turbo-prop, which just means it’s wings were above the windows and there were propellers. The seating was first come first choose. Sue and I nabbed two seats under the wings. We were privy to the special music of the jets. Sleeping was impossible, partly because of the jets, but also because the flight was only one hour. As we started our descent I kept peering out the window, searching for the runway, or even land! Only until we were just above the land could you see it, and it didn’t look wide enough for the plane.

The airport was one room. Part of it was cordoned off, that was where the luggage got organized. To retrieve your luggage you pulled it off racks. There was a bathroom, but there was only one. The people leaving Fakarava mingled with the people arriving. It was wonderful. A person working for Raimiti met us at the airport and drove us to a dock on the lagoon side. We had hoped that it wasn’t the lagoon side, because it was so rough, but it was.

Normally the boat ride from the dock to Raimiti is 45 minutes. For us, it took two hours. The waves were so rough, Eric (the owner) took us on a longer rout “so we wouldn’t be completely broken when we arrived”.

When we arrived at Raimiti, we were welcomed with the triton (conch) shell being blown to welcome us. The Triton shell is the traditional horn of Tahitians. We were shown the ropes, told what time meals were and shown to our rooms: two deluxe huts near the lagoons clear waters. By deluxe I mean that they were made in a traditional style (with coconut thatch) and were situated not one meter from the lagoon. Dinner (at seven) had three courses. The appetizer was a crab and bread mix baked into a clam shell. That was my favorite appetizer so far. The main course was chicken (apparently quite good). Even though I was famished, I didn’t eat it because I am a vegetarian. In fact, my whole family are vegetarians.

We fell gratefully into our slightly damp beds with our alarm clocks set for 7:15, fifteen minutes before breakfast. Luckily, no mosquitoes bothered us, only the wind and the rain. The rain pounded on our traditionally thatched roofs, and the wind howled through our open windows.

September 5/6/7

September 5^th:

The first part of today was a non-day.Daddy left at 6:30 with Jenny, Momma and Sue to take pictures of their sites. Daddy was supposed to come back and pick Georgie and me up at noon, but they got involved. Georgie and I spent the whole day hanging out at the station doing homework.

New: Dinner was an amazing feast. It always is, but that night especially because it was our farewell dinner. There were two types of tuna, taro (a traditional root), breadfruit and fresh shrimp curry. The coconut milk in the curry took three coconuts to make. One type of tuna was done as sashimi. You dipped the pieces in a soy sauce mixture and then you ate it (with or without rice). The other tuna had a spicy sauce already poured over it. This tuna was on a bed of salad. You ate this tuna on the taro. The taro was sliced very thinly and then fried. The shrimp in the curry were huge and done perfectly. The curry sauce was exceptionally light and flavorful.

After diner we had an in house show. A couple days earlier Romilda had taught Sue and I Tahitian dancing. Or at least, she tried to teach us, Sue and I looked very silly and we couldn’t get. Who knew wiggling your hips was so hard! So anyway, that night was our performance. Before dinner we had been practicing with some Tahitian music. Romilda and I wore traditional dance costumes (grass skirts and matching tops). Sue and Momma had to wear paraos. We were a hoot. Everyone had fun watching us, and we had a great time dancing. At least, Romilda was dancing…

September 6^th:

We went to the motu again today. This time however, Taufa and his cousin took us. His cousin’s boat is an outrigger motorboat. The boat itself is quite narrow, but the outrigger makes the boat unable to tip. It was too windy to go back to the Ray Place, but we went snorkeling at the motu near the same place. But the snorkeling was better. It was the best snorkeling yet. The coral was teeming with fish. There were tiny blue clown fish, colorful parrot fish and we saw one barracuda.

There were very few stingrays though. And Daddy tried to grab one of those, but not on purpose. Georgie asked if Daddy would dive down and grab the stick that looked like a spear for him. Daddy promptly dove down and grabbed the “stick”. No sooner that he had wrapped his hand around it than a section a meter and a half wide in front of the stick detached itself from the ground and started powering away from the sea floor. He had grabbed the end of a stingray. Him, the biologist!

While we were gawking at the pretty fishes, Taufa was busy fishing. He swam around with a spear gun shooting fish to feed to the stingrays. Taufa waved a fish piece in the water and four rays promptly came to the smell. We were in water up to our knees, so the rays were less intimidating. They came right up to us, sitting our feet, and gliding past our knees. If you held a piece of fish in front of their noses, they would flap out of the water to get the food. The rays don’t have any teeth, so the way they eat the food is by sucking in. Georgie claimed he could feel the suction.

When there is that many rays around you are definitely going to brush up against them. The first time I brushed up against a tail I jumped out of the water, sure that I had been stung. But it was only the texture of the tail, like sandpaper, except with huge sand lumps. The rays’ bodies are mostly very soft, getting rougher near the base of the tail. But the rest of the body, the wings and head, are softer than the nose of a horse. The top of them are slightly slimy, but still very soft. Their underside is very soft. The wings are very gentle, and when they brush past you it feels very soft, like silk. Their front is firm, and silky soft.

Taufa, being who he is, played with the rays. He sat on them. He bit them. Can you believe it?! He bit/kissed the ray’s nose! And he teased them. Taufa would hold the food just in front the ray, making it flap out of the water, on to his lap, and over the others. Silly Taufa.

September 7^th:

New: Today was our last day on Mo’orea. The morning was spent looking at where Momma, Sue and Jenny had worked the whole week. They had spent the week digitally mapping the marae and the associated agricultural sites that my Mum studied. marae were the Polynesians temples. They are raised paved platforms, sometimes 15 by 35 meters. At one end of the marae are stone tiers. The more levels built, the more important the marae. You can tell by the different stones which chief ordered the marae to be built and in what era.

Just walking on those ancient sacred sites made my imagination go into overdrive. What if when I touched the alter stone I was transported back in time, and I couldn’t understand the language! Or maybe they were doing sacrifices, and I was in the way! I could almost see the chiefs walking on the marae, calling down and offering food to the gods.

We hung out at Paulette and Gré’s in the afternoon. Or at least, Momma and Daddy hung out, while Georgie and I did math. We had a lovely last dinner with them and had a said a sad goodbye to Romilda and Gré. Taufa and Paulette would drive us to the ferry the next day.

Tomorrow we will be leaving for Raimiti. There is no internet access at Raimiti, so I will not be able to update the blog. However, when we get back to LA on the 15^th, I will do my best to upload everything quickly.

September 3/4

September 3^rd

In the morning we went to Romilda’s class. Daddy and I went in as violinists, Georgie as camera man. It is very fun to perform to five year olds; they are very appreciative. A kindergarten classroom looks the same everywhere. There was artwork covering the walls, low tables (no desks) and a storage area for backpacks by the door. The only difference between this class and my elementary classroom was that everything was in French -- from the noise in the room to the poster of how important it is to brush your teeth. The rest of the day was spent catching up on school work.

September 4^th

We went to a motu! Some of the researchers wanted to test out their new boat by taking it to the motu. Daddy, Georgie and I, were invited to come along for the ride, and besides, there is great snorkeling on motus. On our way we stopped at “The Ray place”. The Ray Place is a large sandy bottomed area just before the motu. A huge amount of sting rays hang out on the sand there. When the boat has stopped and people get in the water all the rays swim towards you. They have associated people with—food. Hard to believe, huh? I panicked when I saw the rays coming towards me and I scrambled out of the water. Daddy stayed in the water with them, and he said they were brushing up against him, raising their mouths out of the water for food. Some of these rays were a meter and a half wide, longer counting their tales. Daddy said they felt like a horse’s muzzle. Unfortunately, after they realized we didn’t have food, they ignored us, so I didn’t get to touch them. But I still swam next to them. They move by undulating their wings. Rays look like underwater birds.

We saw other wild life too. We saw one parrot fish, a school of lizard fish and one shark. Lizard fish are long narrow fish that look slightly like sharks, except that they look like their mouth is on top of their head. Like a catfish they have whiskers, but they have four—two on their chin and two on their head. The shark we saw was more a hint of a shark. We saw its tail and head through the water. But the water was getting deeper and darker and our view was clouded. It looked to be about two meters long, but it was hard to tell because it was so far away.

That wasn’t our final destination. We then went to the water around the motu, but we didn’t stay very long because the water was too cold. For French Polynesia the water was freezing. For Vancouver though, it would be the normal beginning summer chil, that you find in below the first 30 cm of water. I fear I will never be able to swim in Canada again—the water is so pleasant here.

September 1/2

September 1

I spent this morning alone. Momma, Jenny and Sue left at 6:30 to start their field work. Daddy and Georgie went out with Michael Poole again. They were hoping to have the same amazing whale experience that Momma and I had, but no such luck. They only saw one whale, and one group of dolphins. However, the whale they saw was a singer. They heard it first through the hydrophone, and when it was under the boat, they heard bubbling up through the water. Georgie said that Dory’s whale talk in Finding Nemo was pretty accurate.

I went to Romilda’s house to paint the view from their backyard. But that was after I took a cold shower. I didn’t want my shower to be cold, but the water wouldn’t heat up. It turns out that if the other bungalow is using the water, then you don’t get any, also, the water never truly heats up. After my not-so-pleasant shower I walked over to Romilda’s where I contentedly painted for the next four hours.

September 2

Before Georgie woke up I worked on my painting. And then after for the next several hours I worked on my schoolwork. My schoolwork regime is one lesson from my math text book a day. When I have problems with my math, which is pretty often, I get help from Sue. When she returned to school 6 years ago to retrain to be a surveyor, she had to re-learn high math and used the same text books that I’m using. She doesn’t like them either. It’s great having her help me. In addition to my math, I am also speaking French, or, at least, listening to French.

In the afternoon Taufa took us to a wonderful beach to snorkel. It’s a public beach that mostly gets used by locals on Sundays, after church. When we were there, it was just an empty white sand beach. Not bad. Georgie and Taufa had a blast making sand balls and pretending to throw them at me. They didn’t actually throw them, because they were too precious to wreck.

August 30/31

I had forgotten what a healthy reef looked like. We (and theTahiatas) went to Michael (the person who took us to see the whales) and his family’s house. They live on a motu, a coral island. It is a buildup of coral on the barrier reef. There is no volcanic core to the island, like on Moorea. The only soil is what has built up on the sand and coral. Their motu is connected by a thin strip of land that goes over what used to be the lagoon. It was partly filled in by a golf course. Since we were right on the reef, the coral and fish species were amazing. The coral was alive for one thing, that meant that it was colored in blues, purples and yellows. There were fish that were electric blue, ones that were up to half a meter in size, and some new species, like black clown fish with turquoise faces. Sadly, no sharks though. But we did see one whale. As we were getting out of the water we saw it blow. Through the binoculars we could see it travel and then dive.

The next day we got a tour of Opunoho Valley. Gré rode with Daddy in the cab of the pickup explaining what we were seeing as we drove. I don’t know how much Daddy got out of it, seeing as he only speaks minimal French and Gré doesn’t speak any English. We (Paulette, Taufa, Georgie, Paulette’s granddaughter and I) rode in the back of the pickup. When we went up hill we slid backwards in the open box, then when we went downhill, we slid forward—it wasn’t the most comfortable ride ever.

Most of the time we were driving though seemingly endless pineapple plantations. For those of you who haven’t seen a Pineapple plant, they look kind of like a cactus. The Pineapples grow in the center of the plant, with a cage of serrated leaves enclosing the fruit. Can you imagine having to harvest the Pineapples? There isn’t even enough room to walk in between the rows. I hope the workers are getting paid well.

That evening we had our last dinner at Paulette and Gré’s. Jenny arrived from the airport then too. Jenny also does archaeological research here. She and Momma are going to write a book combining both of their PhD research projects. After dinner we moved to the University of California Berkeley Gump research station where we will be staying until we leave for Fakarava.

August 29

Today we went whale watching. The person who took us out on our tour was Michael Poole, a marine biologist that worked here the same time as my mum--he owns a whale watching business. He leads tours three days of the week, and leaves the rest of the week free for his research. We went on a tour with about 20 other people, most Americans, two from France and most of them newlyweds. French Polynesia is a popular honeymoon destination. Most of them were wearing miniskirts and heels. We could only laugh at their folly—we would be going outside the reef. This means that there were meter high swells all the time and, since it is always windy here, the ocean was choppy on top of the swells. This was the second time I had experienced open ocean swells, the first time being in Fort Bragg. We don’t have swells in Vancouver because we are surrounded by islands. Here, there is just open ocean.

As we left the lagoon through a natural break in the reef, Michael explained how humpbacked whales stay close to the reef because the orcas, the Humpback’s predators, stay out in the open ocean. Michael explained how to look for the whales and we were off. We found three whales immediately. We saw them blow and dive, but we waited there in the hopes that they would come back up. The humpbacks did come up, but they started traveling, so we couldn’t go into the water and see them. However since they were traveling we got great views of their backs and blowholes.

Humans are like Piranhas. We travel in packs and are a danger to living things. There are rules for how close you can get to the whales and how many boats there can be, but not everyone one follows the regulations. At one point, there were five boats, and we were all in a semi circle around it. The last two boats broke the rules by being there. We left those whales because it was obvious some of us had to go, and the others weren’t going to be considerate.

This was the closest I had ever been to whales, especially humpbacks. At all times we could see them easily without binoculars. We got fantastic views of their footprint, the circular upwelling left by the whales under water, and…we could see their blow holes! Their blowholes are a flap of skin that opens to let their breath out. We could hear the noise their exhalations made. And they talked! When the came up to breath they made a deep, groaning rumbling noise! When the whales were just floating below the surface you could see them through the water. Once they swam underneath the boat and you could see them! They breached just off of our bow several times and slapped the water with their five meter long fins and tail. The Humpbacks head is so strange; it is all little bumps and nodules.

Whale watching here is different that doing it in Canada. Here, you can go in the water with the whales. We could only go in when the whales weren’t moving, so the opportunities were rare. At one point Michael called, “quick, to the back, get in the water”! I was the first one there and I was down in the water in a flash. I held on to the ladder, fearful to let go lest I be swept away. I lowered my snorkeled face in the water and—there were whales! Two of them, one suspended below me and one in front of me. They were gone for a second as the boat pulled my head above the water, but I thrust it back under again and there they were: the whales hung as if encased in blue jello. Another wave and they were gone, just the richest deepest blue left in their wake. Their undersides are white, fading into grey on the sides. If I where to hug them at their thinnest part, my arms wouldn’t have touched. I got the best view because I was the first in the water. Of the rest of my family, only Momma got to see them under water.

While I had a life changing experience, other people didn’t even notice that there were whales out there. They were too busy being sick. One guy kept his eyes closed the whole time and didn’t move, another person just barfed nonstop, that is, when he wasn’t in the water with the whales. Daddy threw up in between photographs. He got in the water, but the whales were gone and he didn’t get to see them.

Later the same day:

We, for once, did a typical tourist thing—but a really good one. Taufa and Romilda took us to Tiki Village, a little village built to look like a traditional native Tahitian one. They talk about traditional foods, show how they are made, and then serve you a dinner of those same foods. After dinner the dancers do a traditional dance.

As we were walking around the village I saw furniture through the window. I thought that maybe sometimes there were tours through the houses, there are, but later I also learned that the dancers live there. There are at least a hundred dancers, so it must get expensive to pay them. The proprietor’s way of working around that was to give the dancers a free place to live, so then he doesn’t need to pay them as much. During the day the do traditional Tahitian crafts, which are then sold.

The dancing was indescribable, but I will try anyway. The women do a kind of but wiggle, but somehow in their lower body, only their hips move, nothing else. They wave their arms about in time to the music, which is alternately very fast and slow. The men go into a half crouch and move their knees back and forth. It sounds silly here, but it was very amazing to watch. Also, it is very hard to do properly. Before the professionals started dancing, we, the audience, got to try the dance. The women moved too much of their upper body, and the men just fell over. It was the funniest thing I had seen for a very long time. The whole audience was doubled over with laughter.

There were also fire dancers. They had batons that were lit on both ends, and most people had two of the batons. They swirled the batons around so much they were an orange blur encasing the dancers body. You could see the heat distortion on their bodies. I don’t know how they stood being so close to the fire. Once, a dancer put the two lit ends of the baton on their feet. He did do this on purpose and afterward he had no burns. The same guy lay on the ground so that only his feet and head touched the ground. Then he passed the fire underneath his back so that the flames licked his back. The dancers made pyramids, all the while whirling their fire sticks.

It was an amazing evening all around. Except that I couldn’t try the dance: my skirt would have fallen off. I was wearing a Pareo, a cloth that you wrap around you and tie in various different ways. The style I was wearing my Pareo in was just wrapped around my waist like a skirt and tucked in. The fabric kept on un-tucking itself so I had to hold it together. If I had danced then it would have completely unraveled.