raiatea
vibrantly colored ripples encircled the outrigger as his paddle silently dipped into the sunset mirrored surface. Our ship anchored in Raiatea under an eerily harvest glowing moon, as if the moon opted for a flashy attempt to one up its "super" night before.
After a rejuvenating sleep rocking gently beneath the stars, we threw lines to the main dock and I allowed time to soak up the scene. Up ahead traditional vaka canoes sailed into the limitless horizon. To my right, a small wooden fishing vessels bobbed in the water, as the women and men on board deep-belly laughed the day away. A young man on a push bike pedaled baskets of plump produce to my left. And just behind me, a multi-story cinema screen blasted an outerspace-themed cartoon onto hundreds of complacently seated "travelers" atop the most enormous bleached white cruiseliner I have ever seen. As juxtaposed as it may be, every angle did represent a major aspect of the Society Islands modern culture.
Our time in Raiatea was unfortunately limited, but I was immediately struck by the prevalence of laughter around each nook and cranny of town. These people are definitely doing something just right. Harlequin seafood "roulettes" (or 'food trucks') were parked haphazardly between streets, dirt lots, sandy beaches, and sidewalks. I imagined these naturally hipster mobiles taking an abrupt turn to cruise down any up-and-coming urban sprawl in the states.
Just before pulling lines to set sail, Kelsey and I awoke and climbed the nearest mountain peak (on a path this time) to bask in rising sun salutations.
The view from atop Raiatea revealed my first good look at how Google image search would portray these islands- and understandably so: jungly green masses, surrounded by a crystal blue pool of water, set ablaze by a ring of turquoise reef and billowing white break water. Maybe someone was zooming in on me at that very moment.
We surprisingly passed many locals hiking to the mountain's peak on our sleepy-eyed early trek. I could see how beginning your days summiting paradise could account for the joyful sounds on the streets below. The town lit up in early morning sunlight as we made our way to the boat, passing a couple sights that stopped me right in my tracks. Angled shapes of light in every color danced across the grass, causing an ever-shifting illuminated painting, as sunrays peered through the stained glass windows of the town's center church.
Then, in disbelief, I came across a sight that caused absolute elation. One small town home appeared to have been decorated by an overzealously avant-garde landscape artist. He would scoff vaguely to his subordinates "if it looks natural, put a thing on it." However, amongst the various random plastic decor, I spied one "thing" that made my heart leap - a little piece of home. For carefully balanced (by that I mean thrown onto by someone who is blind-folded) within palm fronds, was a bright blue inflatable dolphin. At home, I had named mine Emily the dolphin, and she and I had adventures ranging from heavy breaking surf attempts to mountain snow downhill racing! It was incredibly exciting to see an old friend this far from California, and as I walked to the streets, I couldn't help but laugh.