Continued from Part II

. . . Jack Nicholson. Although the houses have been sold, Brando's family still owns an atoll off the east coast of Tahiti. All of the major hotel chains have luxury hotels on the island in which guests stay in small luxurious, thatched huts directly positioned over the waters of the lagoon or one of the bays. Many offer a section with a glass-bottom floor to allow their guests a view of sea life below them. A walk on grassy surfaces or unpaved areas brings to one's attention small round holes in the ground. These are the homes of land crabs that come out at night to eat local plants and fruits. Our guide demonstrated this by making us throw flowers on the holes. Sure enough, the crabs came out and dragged the flowers into their lairs.

One of my souvenirs from the island is a handy sarong the locals call a pareu. It can be worn in a variety of ways, and I look forward to using it this summer on hot, humid days. The women in Bora Bora, as those in Tahiti, have a seductive way of wearing flowers, often the white, heavily scented small gardenia, Tiare Tahiti. As in many other cultures, here the wearing of flowers has its specific language. Worn behind the right ear, you are single, available; worn behind the left ear, you are married or otherwise taken; worn behind both ears, you are married but still available; worn backward behind your ear, you are immediately available. Since every visitor to Tahiti or Bora Bora receives such flowers, wearer beware.

We left the calmness of Bora Bora just as reluctantly as Tahiti and our ship now sailed further South below the Tropic of Capricorn toward Pitcairn. The seas were mildly choppy and the skies often cloudy for the next three days after which we reached Pitcairn Island early on Christmas Eve morning. The island rose before our eyes out of the Pacific like a solitary, solid, mist-shrouded rock. Considering its lonely position in this vast ocean, it must have seemed an absolute miracle to its original discoverers. The island measures just two miles (3.2 km) long and 1 mile (1.6) km wide. An easy target to miss.

Surrounded by jagged cliffs and rough coral reefs it has no accessible natural harbor, except coral-bound Bounty Bay, which can only be accessed by longboats. In addition, the island is surrounded by heavy currents that force ships and freighters to anchor far offshore. As we stood on deck during the approach, and after the anchor was laid, it became evident why Fletcher Christian chose this inaccessible island as the refuge for the mutineers of HMS Bounty. About 20 of the 53 Pitcairn residents currently living there arrived in an unusual longboat to board the Pacific Princess. With them they brought handicrafts, and other goods to sell. Among the goods they had carvings created from the wood of miro (Thespesia populnea) and tou (Cordia subcordata) trees that they harvest on uninhabitable Henderson Island, the largest in the Pitcairn group and a UNESCO World Heritage site.

My souvenir from this green, fertile rock is a cookbook, originally handwritten by Irma Christian, a 5^th generation descendant of mutineer Fletcher Christian. Her grandson, Dennis Christian, sold me a reprinted version. The book contains local lore as well as some unusual dishes, often made with coconut milk rather than milk. We also bought Dennis's exquisite honey, which came with a permit to bring it into Canada.

Sadly, the sea turned rough, forcing the Pitcairnians to leave earlier than expected. Our conversations, however, elicited a great deal about their life on this lonely island. They are residents of the only island group (there are several other uninhabitable islands and atolls, including Henderson, within a 300-mile radius) in the Pacific still governed by Britain with the help of very distant New Zealand. That country sends custom officers, teachers, and doctors or nurses, who stay for six months at a stretch. There can be as many as 200 locals living on the island and as low as the mere 50 that are there now. Children receive their higher education mostly in New Zealand, or some go north to Hawaii. Quite understandably, they changed the subject when asked about the scandal that rocked the island some years ago when a number of men were found guilty of sexually abusing girls as young as 12. It seems, isolation has a price.

Because of the island's good soil, it is fairly self-sufficient, although our ship's crew gave them some bags of onions and other goods to take with them back to the island. These days, Pitcairn has few ships passing its way and mail can take months to reach it. Consequently, the islanders now are fully attached to the internet and to television channels via satellite, and cell phones are a common form of communication, all thanks to the unfortunate abuse trial. Conducted mostly in New Zealand, authorities spent millions to connect the island to the Auckland court. Attempts by Britain to give the islanders independence—to save money—has failed. They see themselves as British subjects because of their mutineer ancestors, although many look more like their Tahitian maternal ancestors.

After leaving Pitcairn behind we sailed slightly further south below . . .

Continue to Part IV | Return to Part I | II