Thursday, October 11, 2012

French Polynesia day 12


                It was double adventure day, as we were taken out to a giant manta ray cleaning station.  These behemoths, with up to 20 feet of wingspan, come in to a place just across from our motu each morning to have a kind of underwater spa treatment.  There, small cleaner fish pick off the parasites that have accumulated on the massive bodies.  Nature has two objectives in this activity:  the good health of the mantas and breakfast for the cleaner fish.  That the mantas and cleaner fish know when and where to meet is just another of her many miracles.

            With masks, snorkels, and fins affixed in anticipation, the pilot of the boat gives the word and all eight of us roll over into the water to take a look.  The water is at least 20 feet deep, with a fair current, so it is a strenuous activity to keep up with these giants.  They are as graceful as any ballerina, gliding through the water with those magnificent wings.  We stay until we are nearly exhausted.  At one point, Gerald from Poe Iti, who is ferrying out another group of snorkelers, pulls up and gives me a free tow back to the action.

Two mantas at cleaning station

Charlie filming one of the mantas
(movie compliments of Arnaud, one of the other guests)


What Charlie was filming

            Back at the pensione to shower and change, we headed over to the main island for the second endurance test of the day.

Mountain at the south end of Maupiti

            Camille, one of the owners of the pensione, had arranged for bicycles; we had been told that it would be a great adventure to climb a mountain that looked down on the monster you see in the photo above.  I thought I detected a glint of wickedness in his eyes as he gave us directions to the path upward.

            The tallest mountain on the island of Maupiti is Teurafaatiu Mountain.  Loosely translated, the Polynesian word teurafaatiu means “killer of old people and young fools”.  This mountain rises 1200 feet above the sea, and the path to the top is sometimes rocky, sometimes slippery, and always challenging.  We needed to be at the top within an hour in order to make it back down before the only restaurant on the island discontinued lunch service at 1:30.

View from one tenth of the way up Teeurafaatiu Mountain

            A quick reference to the mountain climbing chart designed by sports doctor Jonathan S. Meriwether will inform anyone who cares that the normal one hour vertical ascent limit for a 66-year-old man is 625 feet; the limit for any person not in superb physical shape is 1,000 feet in any one day.  We would have been wise to consult the chart before making this particular ascent.  That would have led to another day of underwater photography in the crystalline lagoon in front of our pensione.  But in any event, we were not about to let a couple of twenty-something honeymooners get to the top of Teurafaatiu Mountain without us.
 
 A faraway view of Poe Iti on our first motu

            Dear reader, if you are ever challenged to climb up 1200 feet in elevation in one hour, along a narrow, dangerous, twisting path—parts of which can be scaled only with the assistance of ropes anchored in the rocks—you would be wise to politely decline the challenge as one issued only to fools.  As you may be able to tell from one of the photographs, we were soaked by the time we reached the peak, and it was not from rain.  My tee shirt was so full of perspiration that I had to swim in it later just to get some of the moisture out.  The half gallon of water we took with us did not last the trip, and we ordered four more quarts at the restaurant down below.

We made it!

 Looking down on the second highest mountain

            Just as we reached the peak, we could see a rainstorm heading in from the north, and we knew a wet trip down would be far more dangerous than the climb.  So we quickly snapped a few photos, and took another hour to get back to Polynesian civilization.  The view was just incredible; looking down on the mountain we had photographed on the way over made us feel we were dreaming.

            At the local restaurant, our fellow traveler Charlotte translated to the owner our offer of a present from Georgia, one of the kind we have spread around the world in local hangouts.  Next time you are here, let the owner know you are familiar with Camden County, Georgia.

Presenting a Camden County tag on Maupiti

            We biked all the way around the island, stopping at a most beautiful palm-lined beach for a swim, before returning to our pensione for another great meal, several tablets of Ibuprofen, and about 14 hours of sleep.  Oh, God, the pain!

Charlie and Tricia
©2012

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