Taking the kids sailing in Tahiti

by Eileen Ogintz on 19 Jul 2009 Eileen Ogintz, well known American journalist, writes about the trials of travelling with young children. From their home in Connecticut, Ogintz travels with her husband, their three children, Matt, Reggie and Melanie, and other young children in the extended family who serve—not always graciously—as Taking the Kids’ special team of experts. Here she describes their sailing holiday in Tahiti.

Our captain is straight out of central casting—or a Gaugin painting. He’s tall with a big smile, a long mane of sun-bleached brown hair and tattoos that tell his family story. When he puts a garland of greens around his head, he looks all the more like he stepped out of a painting—or tourist ad.

The four 18 year-old girls in our group are instantly smitten by 40-year-old Turo Aritu, who will be our leader for the next week on the catamaran “Arapima” that will be our home as we sail around a small slice of French Polynesia.

We arrived in Papeete, the capital of Tahiti, on a seven hour flight from Los Angeles on Air Tahiti Nui (kids under 12 fly free!) and overnighted at a brand new resort about a 10 minute ride from the airport. Manava Suite Resort is hip, modern and boasts the largest infinity pool in the islands.

The next morning, while the four girls—childhood camp friends—laze at the pool, the four adults, my husband Andy and I and Pam and Allan Roza, from Milwaukee and parents of one of the girls, go on a tour around the island.

It is breathtakingly beautiful. Our tour guide takes us to black sand beaches (it is volcanic after all) and a 300 foot high waterfall that is called Vaimahuta, meaning water coming from the top in Polynesian. We pass canoe races and see where Gaugin painted his famous Girl with the Mango.

But we’re in a hurry to start our real adventure—sailing around some of these islands that are heart stopping beautiful, where everyone smiles all the time. There is a bride and groom in full wedding attire on our short flight to Raiatea, the heart of the yacht charter industry here and where meet Turo, who encourages the girls to practice their high school French because his English is fractured.

Everyone speaks French and Tahitian here and some English. That adds to the exotic adventure. Our boat, from Tahiti Yacht Charter is a twin-hulled catamaran that comfortably sleeps 12 people.

After we stow our gear—I’m always amazed on sailboats how much room there really is—we head into town a short taxi ride away because it turns out tonight the July festival “Heiva” has started. It combines France’s Bastille Day (this is French Polynesia after all) and Tahitian festivities that last for a month with canoe races, dance competitions, carnival rides and restaurants set up just for the festival under thatched roofs with batik on the walls and ceilings and just eight or so oil clothed-topped tables.

We seem to be the only Americans and wonder if secretly everyone is laughing at us, especially when we snap a few pictures of the festivities—kids on the carnival rides, adults playing a game that seems kind of like Bingo —Taviri Raa, where they get tickets and turn them in for a chance at an even bigger prize (the biggest prize seems to be a washing machine).

We drink bottles of the local beer and feast on steak frites, ginger shrimp and chow mein with fresh veggies and noodles at the restaurant that’s dubbed RestaurantPlace To’AHuriNihi . Local toddlers are running around in their diapers. We perch on plastic stools chowing down under the thatch, surrounded by brightly covered batik panels that have been tacked to the walls and the s-ceiling. Can it get any better than this, I think?

The girls beg to stay later because there is supposed to be a disco with their new found buddy Turo. We caution them not to take advantage of his kind nature, arrange for a cab to pick them up and head back to “our” boat and crack open a bottle of wine. We drink it under the stars on deck.

The first morning we wake up on our boat! We eat some of the food we’d provisioned ahead- awesome croissants (this is French Polynesia, after all) crispy baguettes longer than my arm, giant green grapefruit called pamplemousse, sweet papaya and local yoghurts.

Finally, we’re underway! Sails billowing, six foot swells! At first we’re all excited by the sheer adventure of it-our sailboat, no other boat in sight as we sail east 40 miles from Raiatea to our next stop on our magnificent catamaran from Tahiti Yacht Charter

But then the swells get the better of some of us and several get sick. We laugh about it when we arrive at Huahine and have views of bays that are lush, green and remind me a little of the northern Minnesota island resort we vacationed at when the kids were young. We tell other family travel barf stories and laugh some more.

That’s another plus about a sailing trip. Like camping, all of the artifices and defenses are down—no makeup, no fancy clothes, close quarters. As long as you like the people you are with, it is a spectacular way to travel—no schedule but your own.

There are less than 6,000 residents on this island and we meet some of them in the morning when we stop at the early market to buy some food. Outside are people selling Polynesian cru, a dish made with raw tuna and coconut milk and another with cooked bananas and coconut milk. We buy some of the sweet coconut milk to make our own banana desert. We see giant Taro plants, fresh lettuces and oh-so-friendly locals. Luckily, our friends Pam and Allan Roza are Canadian and speak French. My fractured French isn’t going to do it!

The previous afternoon, while the girls lazed on board, our Captain Turo took the four of us about 10 minutes from where we were moored to the reef so we could snorkel. We didn’t have to wait for a snorkeling excursion, a large boat or pay for the privilege. We just hopped in our Zodiac and headed out to see the reef. The water was so clear—I could see tiny shells imbedded in the sand six feet down. I’d never seen such large brain coral. We saw tiny blue fish and striped Longfin Banner Fish, trumpet fish long and skinny and blue-green Chromis, among others. As usual, they ignored our presence. We and the fish had the reef to ourselves. And when we’d had our fill, we simply motored back to the boat. I love being my own queen of my vacation univers!

We leave the guys on board and head to shore where we visit Huahine Te Tiare Beach Resort that is about as iconic as you can get—with thatched bungalows set over the water with their own decks and dock, a white sand beach with kayaks, canoe and volleyball net and a spectacular restaurant with a thatched roof and canoe and shell chandelier hanging from the beams.

The manager, Sylvain Delanchy tells us business is down at the small resort with less than 50 bungalows, others set in gardens planted with blooming tropical flowers. That’s why this may be the time to come. Rates are down at least 20 percent and kids under 12 fly free on Air Tahiti Nui. We see other families, including one large multigenerational group, enjoying the resort and the dining room.

The resort is accessible only by boat and opened just 10 years ago by a Californian who fell in love with the idyllic spot.

Did I mention food? Turns out the resort has a reputation for its kitchen that is well deserved—from the Tahitian specialties to the home-made ice cream (pistachio or coconut) and the chocolate Lava cake, we dine well.

This is the kind of place, I think, where you really can forget all about your troubles—or the world’s troubles—and you do feel like you have trav