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No frills on this cruise to paradise
© St. Petersburg Times published March 16, 2003 Contrary to what one might expect on a South Pacific cruise ship, the Aranui II does not have an onboard casino, discotheque or array of glitzy shops. Meals are basic, passenger cabins are utilitarian, entertainment is virtually nonexistent, and crew members wear grungy t-shirts and hard hats rather than spiffy white uniforms. But therein lies the attraction. The Aranui II (www.aranui.com) is primarily a cargo vessel that delivers food, building materials, fuel and an endless array of provisions from Tahiti to the remote Marquesas Islands.
The monthly voyage lasts 16 days and covers about 1,600 miles round trip. While 32 Polynesian crewmen load and unload some of the 2,000-ton payload at each port, passengers make shore excursions -- in paradise. In 1990, this vessel was launched with three times the passenger capacity of the original Aranui. The newer ship can carry 100 passengers in cabins and 22 more in a bunkbed-filled dormitory. (An improved Aranui III is scheduled to enter service soon and will boast a swimming pool, gym and room for more than 200 passengers.) A few hours before departure on my voyage, I strolled up to the sun deck where many of the passengers had gathered. Most were middle-aged French citizens who seemed a bit reclusive. Of the few Americans onboard, the majority belonged to ElderHostel, the educational tour group for seniors. I made acquaintances of folks from many countries: a quirky British doctor and his demure girlfriend; a Norwegian anthropologist who turned out to be the life of the party, as well as the onboard lecturer; a recently widowed French doctor and a young Belgian woman who had come to pay tribute to Jacques Brel, the acclaimed Belgian singer who is buried on the island of Hiva Oa. Surrounded by these people, I leaned over the railing and watched one of the ship's three cranes lower a cable toward a heavy container on the dock. A crewman in oil-stained shorts stood atop the container. He fastened chains to a massive hook at the end of the cable, then rode the rising load to the deck as if it were an amusement park attraction. Kadafi, the crane operator, fit my mental image of a character from Moby Dick. His bald, tattooed head protruded from the crane-operator's window as he guided the container to its position in the multilevel cargo hold. He sported a large hoop earring and boar-tooth necklace. As Kadafi loaded the cargo, chains rattled, metal screeched and grease-streaked men in hard hats ducked beneath the swaying hook. It was a crewman's ballet, presented to an audience of landlubbers, with encore performances at every port. The Aranui II departed shortly after sunset. We eased out of the harbor, passed expensive yachts and motored into the open sea. I stretched out on a lounge chair and gazed at the star-clustered sky. The welcome-aboard drink worked its magic, and I headed to my cabin, near the engine room. The rumble of the engine and the swaying of the ship quickly put me to sleep. After a day and a half at sea, we reached Takapoto, one of 77 atolls in the Tuomotu group. Because Takapoto, like many of the islands, has no pier, the ship anchored offshore. Led by two crew members, passengers wanting to visit the port got into a battered wooden lifeboat that motored us ashore. Once there, we swam in water the color of turquoise at a picture-postcard, white sand beach. Later, I took a canoe to a pearl farm and learned how spherical mussel shells are inserted into oysters, which are hung from bamboo rafts. Three years later, the oysters are harvested for their precious black pearl. Pearls, black or otherwise, are responsible for more than 25 percent of the gross national product of French Polynesia. Only tourism produces more income. Afterward, we feasted on poisson cru (raw fish in coconut milk) at a picnic lunch. Then it was back onto the Aranui II and out to sea.
Upon reaching the Marquesas, our itinerary quickened: In rapid succession the ship dropped anchor at the lush, volcanic isles of Ua Pao, Nuku Hiva, Tahuata, Fatu Hiva, Hiva Oa and Ua Huka. While the crew performed their off-loading ballet, we ate a breakfast of fruit and pancakes. Then there was time to go ashore and to hike, ride horses and visit ancient sculptures and petroglyphs, or rock carvings. Many of the petroglyphs had been discovered and recorded by Dr. Sidsel Millerstrom, the onboard anthropologist and guest lecturer. On the island of Tahuata (population about 800), I attended morning mass in the tiny village of Hapatoni. Inside a small white church across the road from the crashing surf, nearly all 80 villagers had assembled. A four-piece musical combo played uplifting melodies during pauses in the service. The congregation sang along in sweet, flowery bursts that I could not decipher. But when I closed my eyes and locked arms with a stranger next to me, the message seemed to be, simply, peace on Earth. If the rest of the world were as beautiful as Tahuata, perhaps the message would be easier to hear. Elliott Hester has given up his day job to travel around the world for one year. His dispatches appear regularly in Travel. Next stop: Coober Pedy, Australia. Contact Elliott at megoglobal@hotmail.com or visit www.elliotthester.com.
 © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • St. Petersburg Times
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