Link to published article: Pearl of Polynesia
The Gambier Islands are exactly what dreams of Pacific sailing are made of: Silvery-purple pearls generously tossed into a palm like the casual distribution of M&Ms. Its high mountain peaks poke through dense green forest offering stunning panoramic views of a reef-filled lagoon and white sandy cays that break through aquamarine water, nothing but hermit crabs and fallen coconuts crowding the shores. An outrigger pulls alongside to offer tuna fresh from the hunt. A half dozen reef shark circle around us like curious, eager puppies. The Gambier Islands fulfil every desire for an authentic Polynesian experience: A taste of the popular Societies, the lush Astrals, the crystalline Tuamotus and the spectacular Marquesas bundled together in one small island group.
Our decision to head for the Gambier Islands was driven by its relative distance from the milk run. The Gambiers lay in the southeast corner of French Polynesia, 700 miles south of the Marquesas and removed from its closest neighbour by 400 miles. While recent years has seen an increase in the number of yachts transiting the Gambiers from approximately half a dozen to two dozen within any given year, their distance from the Polynesian archipelago leave many people unaware that they are a part of the group. This remoteness results in a lower number of visiting yachts, and regardless of the increase in total cruising numbers transiting the Pacific, the lesser-known Gambiers continues to offer a low-key option for those seeking quieter destinations.
The majority of cruising boats crossing the Pacific depart from the Americas and transit through the Marquesas in route to the Society Islands. When we were looking to transit in mid-April, we were astonished to hear there were 80 yachts sitting at anchor in Nuku Hiva at the time of our departure. Choosing to shy away from the crowd, we quickly reset our plans on a last minute whim: We would tackle French Polynesia from southeastern edge to northwestern corner. In doing so, we would avoid the majority of cruising traffic and, hopefully, get a more authentic, genuine experience.
It took a month to sail from Costa Rica to the Gambiers and the welcome we received on arrival was a clear indication that we’d made the right decision. As our anchor settled in the sand, dinghy after dinghy pulled alongside offering fresh fruit and local advice: The date of the next supply ship (twice monthly), how to organise fuel (brought in by the supply ship with excess fuel for sale on a first come, first serve basis), where to fill propane (filled by a longterm expat when he happened to be on the island), intermittent internet (available at the only restaurant on the island, the purchase of lunch required), where to purchase a SIM card (exclusively sold at the local post office, when open, and out of stock through the duration of our stay), a single ATM (currently out of order), and a bakery (open at 6am, out of stock by 6:05). While we were initially shocked to see a dozen masts as we pulled into the lagoon, we learned that half were experienced, long-term cruisers and the other half were employed, semi-permanent live-boards. The cruisers in the Gambiers were tenured and because of this the unit was tight.
The Gambiers are comprised of five main islands and a dozen or so smaller islets and cays, offering both a local population and remote isolation in equal measure. The islands are surrounded by a low-lying barrier reef that surrounds a deep central lagoon. The small cays that crop up around the outer reef offer a number of beautiful anchorages during calm conditions, and the large bays circling the inner islands offer protection from the swell when the winds pick up. The three passes into the lagoon are well marked and easy to enter. Each of these are lined with layer upon layer of hard coral, offering a healthy habitat for the large variety of reef fish that inhabit it and the numerous reef shark that patrol it. The weather is settled during the summer but at 23º south, turns wet and cold during the winter months. The islands are subject to the influence of depressions that develop in the south and are considerably less stable than the rest of French Polynesia. As the islands are also far enough east to be considered out of the cyclone zone, the southern summer is the ideal time to visit.
The impressive Mount Duff juts up in the centre of the lagoon to an impressive 440 meters and offers a maze of hiking trails through dense bush up to stunning panoramic views from the sheer granite summit. Laden fruit trees and berry bushes line the trails and a hike ends with a backpack full of limes, oranges and grapefruit, fingertips pink-stained from grazing on wild raspberries. The abundance and diversity of fruit trees make the Gambiers feel far from an isolated island in the middle of an ocean. Wild coffee plants led to several cruisers collecting the fresh beans and roasting their own coffee over beach bonfires, the process a reminder of the self-sufficiency that is required of people living in the more remote reaches of the world. The cooler water temperatures of French Polynesia’s southern islands also make the perfect environment for black pearl farming, which has resulted the Gambiers becoming one of the main exporters of the “Tahitian Black Pearl.” In addition to producing some of the highest quality, black pearls are considerably less expensive than in the Tuamotus and the Society Islands. Covet them or indifferent to them, every cruiser leaves the Gambiers with a dark shimmering orb hanging from their neck.
We spent our first few days anchored off the main village of Rikitea on the main island of Mangareva, trying to buy a fresh baguette (we were always too late), trying to get cash (the ATM was still closed) and trying to get internet (the wifi was still down). Mangareva has 1,200 inhabitants concentrated in two small towns north and south of the island with one school and a dozen churches, chapels and convents that date back to the mid-1800s when the French Roman Catholic priest, Father Honoré Laval, moved to the Gambiers to create a “settlement of God.” Under his reign, the islanders were forced to build over 100 stone buildings at a cost of 5,000 lives, many which are now dilapidated and decaying ruins throughout the islands. We were lucky to join in several community events: A movie night, a sports day, and a Polynesian dance. It was beautiful to see the resurgence of the Polynesian traditions after a brutal history of cultural repression, held in buildings that represented the suppression of these local customs. As five to eleven year old students dressed up in their traditional clothing, strummed their ukuleles and pounded on their drums while telling ancestral stories through dance, it was powerful to see the pride and the beauty of the Gambian people. The biggest event, however, was the arrival of the bi-monthly supply boat. The few shops in town shut down for the day to resupply as all the villagers gathered at the port to collect their orders. A long queue built in the early evening as everyone waited for the shop doors to re-open, the air of excitement evident in the heightened banter around us.
We filled our first few weeks exploring the many churches, the few shops, hiking around the perimeter of the island and over the high mountain peaks, exchanging greetings with everyone we passed along the way. We were occasionally invited into homes for quick introductions and inevitably left with our arms filled with pompelmoes, passionfruit and breadfruit from the gardens of welcoming locals. Even the maître d’ at the island’s only restaurant handed us root vegetables in a carry-away bag at the end of our meal. Despite long periods between the arrival of the supply ship, eating well in the Gambiers was not an issue.
Having only just settled in, we received an invitation to join a potluck hosted by the delightful Hervé and Valerie at their home on the neighbouring island of Taravai, a tradition that has been running for thirteen years and is held every Sunday throughout the summer months. As one of three homes on the island, these get-togethers allow Herve and Valerie to socialise and get to know the scattering of travellers that pass through each year. For these regular Sunday socials, Hervé hunts down a wild pig, goat or free-range chicken for the roast and everyone else brings a meal to share, and the feast is inevitably followed by an afternoon of pétanque or beach volleyball. Their hospitality was so warm that I returned to celebrate my birthday with them, which they honoured in traditional Polynesian style with a communal midday meal, a floral wreath and a half-dozen beautiful black pearls. I felt like a glamorous island queen, bedecked in colourful bougainvillea and delicate orchids, my hands full of the ocean’s most prized treasures. To credit Hervé and Valerie, their efforts in establishing this tradition have enhanced the cruising experience — creating family amongst strangers. The camaraderie that came from the easy friendship, warmth and hospitality was a true Polynesian welcome. If this was what Pacific cruising offered, we’d found our Eden.
Having enjoyed time on lush, verdant mountains islands, we decided to head for the sparse, sandy islets that line the outer reef, where the water was clear as crystal and the reflection of the boat bounces back off the fine white sand below. We were travelling in company with two other boats and we spent our days together in the quiet calm of our tranquil oasis, our lazy days punctuated by wandering uninhabited shores, snorkelling the surrounding reef and enjoying the peaceful beauty of our aquatic paradise. It was wonderful to see the reef as healthy and bountiful as it was, given its proximity to human population and a prolific pearl industry. The prevalence of ciguatera, an illness that comes from ingesting fish contaminated with the toxin, means the locals avoid hunting reef fish from within the lagoon. As a result, the reefs are stocked full of a large variety of fish and the shark that are drawn to them, resulting in days spent with our heads submerged in crystal-clear water. Leaving an anchorage to relocate to another inevitably means side-stepping the scattering of isolated reefs and sailing through the maze of pearl farms and oyster nets that spread throughout the lagoon, a visual reminder of the lucrative industry that fuels the economy in this remote region of French Polynesia.
It is fitting that the Gambiers produces the highest quality pearls in French Polynesia, as it offers a product akin to the qualities of the island itself: Rich islands encircled by a string of pearly-white cays, the vibrant colours of reef fish and the unique beauty of the people. All of this combined offers the transiting cruiser an experience that is as highly sought-after as the pearls themselves. It is, both literally and figuratively, The Pearl of French Polynesia.
Atea 