My Tahitian Bungalow

Delilah Tahiti.jpg
 

Before I ever saw a Gauguin painting, I was enamored by the lush tropical Islands of French Polynesia and their beautiful, friendly people.  Or at least that was the impression I had gotten from Mutiny on the Bounty starring a young Marlon Brandon when I was a kid. It seemed like a different kind of paradise than the one I had seen.  

I wanted to learn more about this picturesque place where both women and men adorned themselves with Hibiscus flowers.  Also, their language was intriguing with only 13 letters in the alphabet. The word Tattoo is said to come from Tahiti. 

Years later, I was drawn to the lure of black sandy beaches and pearls. When I saw there was a day trip to see how black pearls were cultivated, I couldn’t turn it down.  Dockside, a small boat picked us up to take us to the underwater pearl farm that appeared to be no more than a simple one room overwater hut. Our guide explained that the oyster shell was drilled to make a small hole in it. Then, it was tied to long underwater ropes anchored to the sea floor to be tagged and grown. Once, it reaches the desired size (years later), the oyster is removed and taken upstairs to have the pearl removed. 

Another big draw was the idea of sleeping in an overwater Bungalow. It was invented in Tahiti in the 1960s and today it is much more like an above water suite complete with a private dock and backdoor access to the crystalline water. The floor is clear glass and you can watch the sea life swim beneath your feet. At night, small hammer head sharks and stingrays glide through the neon blue lit water. 

On Another day trip to a small deserted Island off Morea I was delighted to explore freely under the cool shade of coconut trees.  The Local vegetation was plush with exotic flowers begging to be photographed. Camera in hand, I wanted to capture the natural beauty of the private island. I found low hanging fruit to focus my lens on. But, the lighting was off.  I needed to get the sun behind me and closer to really capture the beauty of the flower.  

Still from the new angle, the picture was not right.  The flower was hanging low nestled by a couple of leaves that were ruining my shot.  If I could reach up and simply rearrange the greens a bit, I could get the perfect shot. 

Suddenly I began to hear men yelling. We were on a deserted island with locals tending to the gardens.  The shouts appeared to be toward me from the sarong clad Tongan men a few trees away. “Could the handsome natives be catcalling me?” I thought.  But, ignored them because I was intent on getting the perfect photo.  

Focussing on my shot, I reached for the flower to adjust the leaves. Suddenly one of the men ran up to me, shaking his head.  So, I immediately lowered my arms. He pointed to the underside of the flowery tree shrubs. A massive bee hive was hiding just below the leaves!  Now I understood.