The spearfishing trip incluldes myself, Jean, Estelio and Baby Maoni, a many-time French and Pacific spearfishing champion now in his seventies. He is incredibly spry, though, and has absolutely no trouble keeping up with his protégé Jean on the fishing front. He has these friendly twinkling eyes, and though, again, there is no shared language, we hit it off very well. We take off on his boat, a small outboard-equipped Potimarara at around six in the morning, heading south inside the reef. The itinerary has a little sightseeing and more fishing in it, and we begin by following the reef further around the island than I’ve been before. The weather is indifferent with some squalls and occasional rain around, but this, with the early morning light just seems to intensify the greens and black of the steep mountain sides to our left.
There is a portion of the southernmost Tahitit Iti where the reef actually stops for a while, where there is no reef crest to offer protection from the swell and the waves served by the Southeasterly trades. Before we get to this rough batch, though, the reef turns into the island, and we must cross a very shallow, coral boulder-strewn bit of the waters, and Baby slows the boat down amidst the surf that is now breaking everywhere. These are his home waters and, given that no prayers have been uttered yet, I try to relax and enjoy the show. He picks one particularly large swell, guns the engine and we leap over some boulders that seem much too close to the surface in the clear water. I clutch the camera and eye the distance to the shore to scope for a feasible bailout plan, but soon regret my timidity as we are, predictably, safely through.
After inspecting the sheer cliff faces, a cave opening to the sea, and a small steep-sided and incredibly lush bay, we turn around and head back North toward the reef. Running the same roiling gauntlet we stop just beyond, anchor the boat with what seems a purely symbolic small hook, and enter the water. I follow Baby as he fishes the edge of the reef, but soon start losing sight of him as he effortlessly glides down past 30, 40 feet. Eventually I give up trying to follow him and, sticking closer to the reef crest, content myself with inspecting the shallower reef instead. We get back around midday and clean the fish and the gear. Afterwards I take a small walk around Teahupoo as this is really my last day here.
The last evening turns into another party, thrown in my honor! More dancing and eating is followed by some farewell words and a dozen shell and flower necklaces are hung around my neck. Leaving seems like a cruel form of punishment.
The next day Estellio drives me to Keitapu’s house where I spend a delightful day with him, his wife Hillary and their two young sons. Keitapu takes me spearfishing on the reef in front of his house, and we enter the water via stairs leading down the six-foot drop from his patio to the water. I have a Pupuhi (speargun), a search image for Parai (a species of surgeonfish we’re after), some quick instruction as what not to do with the spear and we’re off. With a speargun in my hand I realize I must look at the reef very differently than my usual rote. Lots of diving on the reef looking at corals has really trained my eye to take in the fish as these mobile things that flit in and out of one’s field of view. Now I try to follow them, anticipate their moves. We arrive at the sport Keitapu has in mind, a 20’ deep section of the reef shoaling quickly so I can see the underside of the breaking swell to my left. He gets off the first shot just ahead of me and…a hit. Then another. And another. Turns out he is really good at this. It also turns out I am not. After many, many shots I manage to score a hit, but even then the fish seems only perturbed by the event as the spear somehow pushes it out of the way.
The consolation is some encouraging words from Keitapu and a first-hand initiation into the fine points of reef fish tasting. While we clean them, he cuts little morsels off the fish and I start understanding the vast differences both in texture and taste between the different species. Keitapu has shot about a dozen fish - half Parai and the other half a careful selection to illustrate the differences. The dinner is a truly exquisite affair with the Parai served raw as Poisson Cru with some lime juice, jalapeño peppers, garlic and a hint of salt. Needless to say all ingredients save the salt are from their garden. The rest of the fish are gently steamed to preserve the taste and texture differences. This is followed with a copious quantity of fresh fruit as Keitapu and Hillary warn me of the veggieless and fruitless future awaiting me in the Tuamotus. Once again I go to bed feeling like the day contained simply too much to fit in a mere 24 hours.
And now back on the boat. I invited Estellio and everyone else to come and visit the SEA ship in Papeete, and he was able to come together with some of the family and friends. Seven people in all, Estellio’s extended cab pick-up is loaded with three bunches of bananas, breadfruit, a box of avocados, papayas and some limes. Their gift to the ship!
Tomorrow it is off to the airport and to Rangiroa. I am to stay with someone named Hérve in the village of Tiputa, which is about the sum total I know about the immediate future. This has been an amazing week on all fronts, but now it’s off to the Tuamotus!
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