Huahine: An Island Lost in Time

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Huahine: An Island Lost in Time

In her compendium, 1,000 Places To See Before You Die, Patricia Schultz describes the island of Huahine this way, “steeped in tradition and a standout for its varied scenery, splendid beaches, proliferation of ceremonial temples, picturesque main town, and tiny, charming villages, Huahine is one of the few Polynesian islands Captain James Cook might recognize if he were to return today.” Having seen much of Polynesia in the early 1980s myself, and having been disappointed by the changes to many of the islands when I had returned fifteen or twenty years later, I was beguiled with the idea of going to this part of French Polynesia to relive those happy days of my youth in the South Pacific. I was not disappointed.

The first suggestion of the transition from hectic North American life to the serenity of the South Pacific was the Air Tahiti Nui flight from Los Angeles to Papeete on the island of Tahiti. The friendly cabin staff dressed in uniforms with a colourful Polynesian motif and the Paul Gaugin images on the menus were my re-introduction to the devotion of the Polynesian people to their culture. After I had spent a couple of hours in the swelter of the open-sided airport terminal waiting for my connecting flight, watching crowds of villagers with rolled up sleeping mats and boxes tied up with string—and nary a wheeled black suitcase to be seen—I was already re-connecting with my past. This sense was reinforced during my 45 minute flight that passed over Tetiaroa, the idyllic group of 13 islands bought by the late actor Marlon Brando after filming Mutiny on the Bounty and marrying his Polynesian leading lady. By the time I arrived at the quaint little airport on Huahine the transformation was complete.

Huahine was settled by the Polynesians over a thousand years ago, but not identified by Europeans until Captain Cook arrived in the late 1800s. The South Pacific Handbook, my usual source for current information on the South Seas, notes that Huahine and the other five islands of the Leeward Island group were British protectorates amid a region of French influence until 1887 when Britain traded them to the French for fishing rights off the coast of Newfoundland and other interests in the South Pacific. The European influence can be found still in the Super Fare Nui, the village general store, where products like Arnott’s cabin biscuits and Cross & Blackwell’s marmalade can be found among the freshly baked French baguettes and local goods.

Since Cook’s time, the French administration has provided a reasonable infrastructure without overwhelming the local culture—a fairly new airport, good roads, clean drinking water, reliable electricity, schools and the local gendarmerie. Other than that, the people appear to live as they may have hundreds of years ago.

From my accommodation a fifteen minute walk along the beach past neat cottage style houses set back among the coconut palms led me to the main part of the town of Fare. It is a simple little town with a dozen or so brightly painted one- and two-story buildings lying along the side of the road opposite the harbour and a dock where an inter-island freighter docks once a week. The houses lie back from the water and up the shallow slopes behind, as well as along the one main road that runs each way out of town and rings the island. Men, women and children from these nearby homes walk or cycle in an unhurried way, stopping along the way to socialize.

Across from the shops, in the gap between the road and the harbour, a row of banyan trees serves as an informal market where local people sell fish, hanging them by string from the gnarled trunks, as well as produce from their gardens, and provides shelter for musicians and a shady place to park a vehicle. Children play along the shore, diving from the dock and splashing in the crystal clear water.

Most of the people I saw were Polynesian, but there were also Europeans residents, mostly French, and a few Americans. Some, like Joe, had come in their twenties for the famous surfing and never left. Now married to a local woman and with children in their teens, he continues to live an uncomplicated life selling island handicrafts and renting bicycles, and still manages to get out in the surf once in a while. A similar story is told by the French/Polynesian couple that runs Guynette’s Lodging and the busy little patio café that sits among the shops along the harbour. Like Fletcher Christian, these foreigners couldn’t resist the lure of the South Pacific.

Huahine still holds that rapture for foreigners. The local people are welcoming and the lifestyle is relaxed. A delightful evening can be spent watching the sunset with the locals from the waterfront café at the end of the beach near Joe’s shop while the children play in the shadows of the banyan tree. The impression one is left with is that community and quality of life are valued over income.

Probably due to the surfer and backpacker influence, Huahine is not overwhelmed with exclusive hotels that charge US$750 a night for accommodation and offer seclusion from the world like they do on neighbouring Moorea or Bora Bora. While it does have one up-scale hotel designed to complement the local style, Huahine’s real draw is the variety of low-key guest houses and “self-catering” units located along the plentiful, unspoiled beaches or in small villages around the island where visitors are made to feel at home. One unusual adventure offered by the host for my stay on Huahine is “camping” in African safari tents mere steps from the water. These deluxe expedition tents are permanently set up on wooden platforms and equipped with beds, toilets, ceiling fans and lovely sun porches overlooking the lagoon. Cooking is done in a communal Polynesian hut furnished with a gas stove and electric refrigerator.

Scuba dive, surf, swim, explore, relax, or enjoy the authentic art and culture of the island: those are the only stressful choices you will have to make during your stay on Huahine. Maybe Captain Cook discovered the island but it is the love and sense of community of the local people that maintains it in the way he found it all those years ago.

Alan Boreham is a seasoned sailor and world traveller. He has recently co-authored two books - a series of South Pacific sailing memoirs entitled Beer In The Bilges and a novel entitled Two If By Sea - both soon to be published.