Swimming with Sharks and Playing with a Bear in Magical Moorea

story and photos by Darin Bunch

Caution: Objects may appear larger the closer they get to your face
Yep, that’s a blacktip shark swimming toward us. Make that directly at us. And he’s big ... and getting bigger with every swish of his tail. But I’m not worried. After all, we’re on the other side of the rope. That’s right, a rope. Not a cage like you see on National Geographic Channel, just the rope that holds the anchor for our tour boat, the Liki Tiki.

If that doesn’t instill confidence, nothing will.

So Mr. Shark and his friends (did I mention there were six or seven that I could see?), playing a mixture of catch and tug o’ war with a bony fish head roughly the size of my thigh, keep coming our way.

Our guide, Hiro Kelley, told the swimmers to stay on one side of the rope and the sharks would stay on the other. Kelley, an Irishman who grew up on Moorea as the son of one of the original Bali Hai Boys, spoke a little bit of about eight languages the day we met him, yet he apparently doesn’t speak shark — because they didn’t get the message. And just at the moment I can see the whites of his eyes, when all I can hear is Richard Dreyfuss in that scene from Jaws — “it wasn’t Jack the Ripper”— Mr. Shark takes a quick downward turn, sneaking through the space between my dangling feet and the rocks below, so close I can feel the water swirl around my legs as he swims past.

So it was in the blue, oh-so-clear-blue, Pacific waters off the French Polynesian island of Moorea that I learned firsthand about sharks. Not all of them want to eat you. Not all are nasty, off-kilter Great Whites that will hunt you down as prey. Of course, I knew that already. But the academic mind and the emotional mind tend to argue when a giant mouth with rows of sharp teeth is barreling toward your head, nothing more than seawater to separate you from the serious chomp it’s putting on a mid-morning meal.

Of course, that was the point. While Hiro’s Tours included a trip around the island, a coconut-cracking demonstration and a tasty picnic lunch cooked by villagers who live on one of the island’s two motus (little islets of white sand located on the lagoon, where you’ll find some of Moorea’s most magnificent snorkeling), the real reason we signed up was simple: swimming with sharks and manta rays. And we got our wish, not only witnessing the fish frenzy that attracted our snouty, sometimes-scary visitors but also hand-feeding the velvety rays as they flipped and flopped about the crowd of 20 or so tourists tippy-toeing through the sand in shoulder-high seas.

At the manta ray site, Hiro had given another warning: “Now these rays have no stingers like the Crocodile Hunter,” he said in reference to popular television naturist Steve Irwin’s tragic death. “But they do have a strong beak that can crack a conch shell. And if it can crush a shell, it can crush your hand. So watch your hands around their mouths and you’ll be fine.” If you’re wondering, my wife and I still have all 10 fingers — and toes, for that matter.

Expanding my Horizons
Six months ago, I didn’t even know Moorea existed. Sure, I’d heard of Tahiti (who hasn’t?) and Bora Bora rang a bell (wasn’t there a movie with that name?), but when somebody mentioned the island of Moorea, I had to hit the Google to find out why I’d ever want to fly eight hours from Los Angeles and then hop a ferry to get there.

Quickly, the picture was clear.

Island. Ocean. Beauty everywhere. Dazzling sea life. French food. Sunshine. Warm days. Cool nights. White sand. And clothing-optional beaches ... if that sort of thing appeals to you.

We arrived with open minds and very little on our itinerary. And we learned immediately that Moorea is the perfect size for travelers looking to actually — overusedphrase alert! — get away. It’s small but not too small. In fact, you can rent a car and circle the island in a couple hours if you’re moving, no more than half a day if you’re taking your time. Along the way, there are beaches to explore, shops to browse, grocery stores loaded with fresh breads, ripe fruit and quality cheeses, and restaurants of all sizes and flavors, each unique in its own right. We drove as far as we could up a little dirt road, past small houses and friendly dogs and curious chickens, to catch a glimpse of a waterfall, its ribbon of white water falling, almost artistically, into the jungle below. And then we took the paved road to the Belvedere lookout, high above the beaches, with sweeping views of the island and the nearly 3,000-foot Mount Rotui dissecting the famous Cook’s and Opunohu bays, where English navigator Captain James Cook landed aboard the HMS Endeavour in 1769.

It was on an expedition of our own that we discovered Mark Walker, a former hockey player from the Pacific Northwest who now builds custom furniture and quaint bungalows on his own little piece of the island called Mark’s Place, just across the main road from some of Moorea’s best surfing waters and against the Belvedere backdrop.

“Imagine a place with no crime, no wars, no Bin Laden, where you get free health care. Life on Moorea is how we all should live,” he told us during an impromptu tour of his handmade creations.

Mark is the kind of guy you find all across the island — friendly, good-natured, willing to answer any question and impart the knowledge he’s acquired. And in a place as magical as Moorea, that spirit of cooperation is infectious, whether you encounter locals or fellow tourists.

No sooner had my wife and I hopped on the shuttle from the ferry dock to our hotel than we met a 30-something couple from San Francisco, wrapping up the final hours of a 10-day island visit.

“So what have you done that we shouldn’t miss?” we asked.

“I think the coolest thing was the shark feeding,” the husband replied. “You actually get in the water with the sharks, and later you get to hand-feed manta rays.

“And the snorkeling everywhere is just amazing — the whole island is awesome.”

Awesome indeed, and we experienced as much as we could fit into a weeklong stay. Yet there was one thing our Bay Area buddies hadn’t tried and we regret from our first visit to Moorea: Not getting in the water with whales.

For some reason, whale watching didn’t appeal much to us. But after two more of our new friends — Mike and Carol, a couple from Sydney, Australia, whom we met at a local restaurant and found ourselves happily bumping into throughout the trip — told us about their day on the open water and how Mike, a rugby-loving, burly New Zealander, dove in at the chance to swim alongside the whales, we were definitely jealous.

Next Stop: Wonderland
There’s a hole in the floor of our premium overwater bungalow at the Moorea Pearl Resort & Spa. And it’s there for a reason — so you can sit on your couch and look down through the glass coffee table into the coral bed below. At night, the area beneath the underwater window is lighted just enough to illuminate the multi-colored fish darting back and forth, and occasionally you can hear one snap at the surface. During the day, you can ask the restaurant for old rolls to crumble and feed the sea life while snorkeling, amazed at the quickness with which they’ll take the food just out of your grasp and zip away, only to be replaced by another hungry mouth.

The coral bed itself is a work in progress. Although it has been slowly growing for years upon years upon years, the Pearl helps it along, “planting” and “growing” new coral in an effort to reduce the effects of humans on the ecosystem. Floating above the reef, sometimes no more than a few inches, I encounter species of fish — no names, just bright colors, odd shapes, interesting stripes — and a menagerie of other underwater life, from sea cucumbers to anemones, that will live on in my memories long after we’ve flown home to California, where the only fish I find are the occasional trout pulled from High Sierra streams.

As I slowly make my way back toward the private landing outside our room, the coral suddenly drops out from under and I find myself staring into murky-blue deep water — nothing but me, the silence and a few support pillars for the bungalows above plunging into the darkness.

And then I see the trumpet fish.

It’s oddly emotional and fascinating all at the same time. Long, thin and red, I see one, then another, then another. And as they come into focus, I realize an entire school of the remarkable shapes is drifting past — not swimming, but merely moving with the current, letting Earth’s forces guide these creatures to a final destination they’ll never reach. Yes, there’s magic under the water that I never knew existed, and you don’t have to deep sea dive to find it. In Moorea, you need only scratch the surface.

Everything You Could Ask For
Although Pearl Moorea Resort & Spa is one of many lodging options on the island, it pretty much has everything you need — and possibly everything you could ever want.

Opened in June 2002, the property features a variety of bungalows, from our ultra-high-end overwater to the beachfront variety to more affordably priced gardenview rooms, which include a small patio with a private plunge pool. Meanwhile, the main 7,500-square-foot swimming pool is the centerpiece of the resort’s sun-worship area, appearing almost endless against the backdrop of ocean with a sliver of beach between the two blues.

The cozy, friendly Manea Spa features a wide range of treatments, including facials, body scrubs, body wraps, bath treatments and massages utilizing such native products as coconut and vanilla from the island of Taha’a, sandalwood and umuhei oil from the Marquesas, pineapple from Moorea (my wife’s favorite), tamanu from the Leeward Islands and monoï, a perfumed coconut oil common to Polynesian households. After your treatment, a pulsating, multi-jet shower leaves you feeling clean, refreshed and more relaxed than you could ever expect.

Within walking distance of the resort you’ll find a small town center, complete with a bank, grocery store and enough shops to keep you spending any extra Pacific Francs you might have lying around.

Of course, if you can’t swing the highend Pearl’s prices (with the American dollar diving faster than a dolphin, a premium bungalow can run you as much as $1,000 per night), there are more budget-minded options once you’ve arrived on the island.

At Mark’s Place, Walker is building new bungalows every day — literally. His woodwork, from the see-saw out front to the multi-berth dorm-style accommodations (perfect for families or small groups), is both playful and practical and reveals the heart of a true craftsman.

Sure, Mark’s Place feels more rustic than a high-end hotel — for example, some of the units have communal bathrooms and showers — but Walker has all the island knowledge of any resort’s activities director (and even directions to a few hidden gems you might not otherwise hear about), plus one-of-a-kind touches you won’t find anyplace else, especially when it comes to his custom bungalow constructed out of local rocks and glass bottles, which light up the glimmering room as the sunshine refracts in the morning.

For more Mark’s Place information, visit www.marksplacemoorea.com.

Polishing the Green Pearl
“I’m no golfer, but what they did by building that golf course is going to be great for Moorea,” says Walker, who could easily pass for a visitors bureau spokesman. “They took a piece of land near the airport that was only good for breeding sand flies and turned it into a beautiful place that will eventually have a resort, shops — all more reasons for visitors who might never have heard of Moorea to come visit the island.”

Can’t argue with that logic. After all, it was the Jack Nicklaus Design golf course that sealed the deal when we were mulling options for our vacation destination departure from the mainland.

In the grand scheme of things, Moorea Golf Resort has plans for a fully five-star operation, complete with 154-room hotel, a community of residential units, a spa-andfitness center and more.

But for now, the Moorea Green Pearl golf course stands alone, a pleasant surprise straddling the island’s main road as you drive around the corner to find fairways and greens stretched across the sandy floor on one side and climbing the mountains on the other.

Built on what was regarded as worthless swamp land, the Green Pearl is a true testament to modern golf course construction. In creating turf where none existed, not only does the Nicklaus Design track feel like it belongs, but it seems like it has always been there — quite a feat considering the first nine holes opened less than two years ago. In fact, the Green Pearl feels so natural that I originally thought the course had been designed around the lagoon-like water that meanders throughout the flatland holes, only to discover every inch was manmade — with an assist from years of geological evolution, of course.

And while the front nine can be a challenge, the back-nine stretch of holes 12 through 16 is where the Nicklaus team truly matches the magnificence that is Moorea.

Mountainside Experience
“Nobody on the island speaks golf; I’m the only one,” Jacques Maniette says as we sit down for dinner at the Moorea Pearl Resort. Anyone who plays the game knows golf has a language all its own, and despite the Green Pearl managing director’s limited English and my even more limited French, we’re able to talk about the beauty of his golf course and how proud he is of the recently opened closing nine.

The next day, I understood why.

Armed with a rental set of slick Mizuno sticks, I headed out to remember how to swing a golf club (a guy can forget an awful lot during two straight days of snorkeling). But after 15 minutes of hitting floating golf balls into the ultra-cool lake practice range, I was knocking the MX500 driver long and straight. Indeed, I was ready to inflict a little American pain on this island layout.

Staring down the flag from the 100-yard marker on the opening hole, I pulled a sand wedge for my approach and hit it flush — golf’s an easy game, I thought — watchingproudly as my perfect 100-yard shot ... sailed over the back of the green.

“Wow, I’m hitting’ these Mizunos a long way. I guess I’ll have to dial it down a bit today,” I said to myself as the bogeymonster claimed the 358-yard hole.

About the time I dialed in my distances was the point in the round — on the No. 4 hole because I’m not a very quick learner — when I realized the fairway yardages were measured in meters (about 10 percent shorter than yards). That 358-meter No. 1was actually 391 yards. Yes, I was showing this course how the game is played in America, no doubt about it meter No. 1was actually 391 yards. Yes, I was showing this course how the game is played in America, no doubt about it.

Now that I was firing on all cylinders, though, I settled in for a nice round. The weather was warm but the ocean breezes — especially on the beautiful, relatively short 322-meter No. 7 with its beachside green — cooled the sweat and kept me comfortable.

Catching glimpses of back-nine fairways from the lower holes, I was anticipating the mountainside ascent, ready to see what the Golden Bear’s design team had carved out among the trees and dense foliage.

The real journey at the Green Pearl begins on No. 12, a 276-meter slight dogleg-right par 4 running above yet alongside the road. It’s a hole that begs you to swing away; carry the greenside bunker and eagle is within reach. It’s a fun hole and a fitting gateway to the fabulous four in front of you.

After climbing the steep mountain by cart, the tee on the 345-meter No. 13 offers views that rival even the greatest seaside courses in the American West. The front nine and final duo sprawl out below, reaching the ocean’s edge at the aforementioned No. 7 green, and the main island of Tahiti rises in the distance.

This brand of golf is not the Jack Nicklaus I know and love, the Nicklaus known for wide fairways and generous landing areas. No, these holes are tight and tough and require precision. The MX500 stays in the bag in favor of hybrids and irons, and still the four-hole stretch adds seven more above par to my scorecard.

But the big numbers concern me little as I enjoy the quiet and breathe in the sweet, salty ocean smells brewing with the local flora. I hit another hybrid on the 184-meter par-3 No. 14, as beautifully framed a one-shotter as you’ll find, and then bring the driver out of brief retirement for the rousing downhill par-5 return to sea level.

Of all the Green Pearl’s gems, the oddly short (only 224 meters), severe-dogleg-right par-4 No. 17 might be the quirkiest, and yet the mental challenge of figuring out the proper strategy made me a fan from the first time I stepped on the tee. Give the green a go if you can hit it high over a stand of palm trees or play it safe and let the short game assure you of par ... if not birdie.

The finishing hole, running along the manmade lake, is a fitting closer, requiring a strong tee shot followed by a stout mid-iron to have a chance at par and that great golf feeling of finishing a round on the high note that keeps you coming back for more.

Taking stock, I was quite pleased. Despite hitting it as crooked as a Wall Street CEO, I hacked my way to a 92 from the tips (that’s 5,839 meters — 6,385 yards to you and me). On a new course I was seeing for the first time and playing with rental clubs, there were no disappointments.

And even if there were, I still would have come back to play the next day because the Green Pearl is infectious in both style and substance. And on my next trip to Moorea, I’ll show it how the game is played.

Pizza Under the Stars
It’s our last night in Moorea, and after a week filled with golf and spa treatments, underwater adventures and fun times with new friends, we’re sitting on the deck of our Pearl Resort bungalow, digging into an unexpected island delicacy.

Our culinary awakening has run the gamut from the resort restaurant’s fresh croissants and Polynesian pineapple we never knew could taste to sweet to bread and brie and $10 bottles of French wine purchased at the local market and savored on the sand under a palm tree.

We’ve sampled haute cuisine at the Pearl’s gourmet restaurant, Le Matiehani, in an atmosphere of pure pleasure, and we’ve watched the manta rays swim tableside at Te Honu Iti (translation: the little turtle) while indulging in lobster with cognac sauce and a steaming, pastry-covered seafood “soup” of fish, shrimp and scallops.

But tonight, we’re sitting under the stars eating an Italian classic with a French Polynesian flair, courtesy of Allo Pizza’s delivery service. I’ve chosen the Five Cheese — a light crust covered with tomato sauce and a mix of Parmesan, Mozzarella, Swiss, Blue and Goat cheese — while Jill is trying the ironically named Hawaiian, made with Moorean pineapple.

We’ll finish the meal with a desert unlike any other — the Banana Pizza, a sinfully sweet yet light combination of the tropical fruit and caramelized brown sugar that makes me wonder how no American restaurant has ever thought of the dish.

We eat and drink and listen to the fish lap at the water, throwing a bit of crust their way every so often and wondering if life can get any better than this.

Published in FG Magazine, Winter 2008

VISITING MOOREA
As we’ve pointed out before, pretty much any foreign travel has some level of inherent danger, but the safety quotient on Moorea is well above average. After all, they have socialized health care, so if you if get sick or injured, basic medical treatment is both affordable and easy to access.

We recommend you check with your local physician about the appropriate shots needed, and it’s always a good idea to get a prescription for an antibiotic like Cipro just in case you ingest a mouthful of bad shower water and find yourself in a real-life scene from the Sex in the City movie. Sex in the City movie.

Aside from swimming with sharks, whales, manta rays or other potentially dangerous sea life, the island’s dry land is reportedly free of poisonous snakes and spiders, although a gecko (perhaps scampering through your room) might give you a bit of a fright.

And air travel to French Polynesia is a delight. Although it takes a good eight-plus hours from Los Angeles to the main island capital of Papeete, Air Tahiti Nui takes better care of its passengers than any domestic airlines we’ve flown in recent days, with two meals, beverage service, full media console and comfortable seats, even in the main cabin.

To keep the trip as relaxed as possible, book a night at the Sofitel Maeva Beach Resort in Papeete for the night you arrive — it’ll give you some decompression time after the flight (and maybe even a few hours of bonus beach time) before you catch an afternoon ferry for the 30-minute trip to Moorea.

Moorea Pearl Resort & Spa
www.pearlresorts.com/moorea

Green Pearl Golf Course
www.mooreagolf-resort.com

AMERICA'S MOST HONORED MAGAZINE AT ING AWARDS
It’s getting to be a habit, and we can’t seem to help ourselves. For the fourth straight year, FG racked up an impressive load of hardware at the International Network of Golf Media Awards announced at January’s PGA Merchandise Show. We scored six awards in all, besting writers and photographers from such national publications as GolfWeek and Sports Illustrated. First-place honors went to Vic Williams in Competition Writing for his piece on Tiger’s historic U.S. Open victory (July-August 2008), Joann Dost for her epic shot of Tiger’s 72nd hole putt on Open Sunday; and Calder Chism for his “Weekend Wisdom” drawing of Vic in the May-June 2008 issue. Outstanding Achievement awards went to Williams and Darin Bunch for Travel Writing. Other FG contributors who took home awards included Tony Dear and Bob Seligman. Next year, look for the clean sweep.