Uncover the magic of the Islands of Tahiti, where outdoor adventures and serene shores create unforgettable memories.
I am the essence of delicious. To be fair, anyone might feel this way at the tail end of a glorious week in the Islands of Tahiti: Six days of blue skies and bronze bodies, cultural insights, culinary curiosities, outdoor adventures, and inner revelations have a way of making you feel radiant.
Having absorbed the good vibes of your surroundings, you beam them back out, amplified. But I’m also being literal: I am just off the shore of a resort called Le Taha’a, effortlessly drifting through the narrow sapphire channel between a tiny islet, Motu Tautau, and an even tinier atoll along its northeastern shore, fully enveloped in a cloud of ravenous nibbling critters.
I giggle into my snorkel as hundreds of orangepeel angelfish, yellow striped butterflyfish, and blue-spotted cornetfish crowd close around me, forming a baggy, kaleidoscopic wetsuit. You could call them my school uniform. And you could call me their lunch lady.
Before slipping on flippers and setting myself afloat in the twice-daily clockwork current that gently escorts visitors through a quarter mile of technicolor submarine life known as the Coral Garden, I noticed a local woman feeding the fish. Pinching bits from a baguette and sprinkling them on the water, she brought hungry swarms to the surface.
After noticing my delight, she offered me a chunk of bread to distribute on my own. Improvising my own technique, I tore off the crust (which I tossed to a nearby gull), then compressed the loaf’s soft interior into a dense, doughy blob which I zippered into the pocket of my shorts just before swimming a few yards to the channel and releasing myself into the current.
And now, as the bread ball slowly dissolves, micro-crumbs filtering through fabric, I become an atomizer of yeasty perfume, a summons to sustenance. It’s a feast for the fish. And the soul.
TRADITIONAL VALUES
More than the iridescent black pearl I brought home to my partner, the floral-patterned pareu (Tahitian for sarong) now draped over a living room couch, or the fragrant vanilla beans infusing a jar of sugar in the kitchen, it’s the vivid memory of that impromptu aquatic banquet that most strongly evokes my visit to the island country.
Tahitian Black Pearl (Photo by ChameleonsEye)
It encapsulates the ease, inspiration, generous spirit, and natural beauty that were the touchstones of my Tahitian experience, qualities also reflected in islanders’ attitude toward queer people, both visitors and locals.
As a gay man long influenced by movie and television depictions of Tahiti as a straight honeymooners’ paradise, I was pleased to learn that, historically, binary notions of gender and sexuality are as foreign to these climes as The Newlywed Game.
From the urban market stalls in the capital city, Papeete, to resorts that cater to foreigners throughout the country’s 118 islands, it’s virtually impossible to pass an hour’s time in any public space without seeing Tahitians who present as genderfluid, nonchalantly going about their daily business. Same-sex couples, both foreign and local, abound as well.
For thousands of years in Polynesia, the term mahu (Tahitian for “in the middle”) was used to describe people born male who exhibited both “masculine” and “feminine” characteristics and gravitated toward female dominated social activities.
Rather than being ostracized, mahu had an important role in the spiritual and cultural life of their communities and were often responsible for teaching art, music, and dance to young people.
French colonization and the arrival of the Catholic church in the 19th cen tury introduced top-down efforts to demonize mahu and other Polynesian cultural traditions. But despite significant impact, including, for decades, the reframing of the word mahu as a slur rather than an honorific, Western customs never fully overtook the deeply ingrained local culture.
In recent decades, as queer and indigenous identities have become a focus of attention and activism elsewhere, Tahiti’s open-minded pre-colonial attitudes toward non-binary gender expression and sexuality have regained cultural prominence. Drawing on historic precedent, acceptance, and respect for queer people in today’s Tahiti feels far more natural and normative than in most of the world.
THE NAME GAME
One thing that doesn’t feel at all natural about this South Pacific paradise is its brain-scrambling nomenclature.
“The Islands of Tahiti” is what local tourism authorities prefer to call the islands and atolls that make up French Polynesia. Once a colony and now officially an “overseas country” of France, the island nation has its own health, education, and environmental policies. France continues to provide major financial support to the islands’ government and retains control of defense, foreign affairs, and other areas of international interest.
Snorkeling in Taha’a (Photo by BlueOrange Studio)
“Tahiti” is both the name of the largest of these islands (shaped like a figure eight and home to the capital, Papeete); but also a collective nick name, commonly used by foreigners, for all of the islands in aggregate. In summary, the individual island called Tahiti (like Rangiroa and Taha’a, which I also visited over the course of a week) is part of a larger country alter natively referred to as French Polynesia, The Islands of Tahiti, and Tahiti. If your brain feels like it needs a vacation after that lesson, perhaps you should head to the source of your befuddlement.
FIRST TASTES
Visitors to the Islands of Tahiti are greeted with a soothing serenade of traditional music played by a live ensemble at the country’s sole international airport, just a few miles from Papeete (The national airline, Air Tahiti Nui, offers direct flights from Los Angeles and Seattle).
White tiare flower garlands are draped over guests’shoulders, their rich vanilla-meets-jasmine fragrance mingling with the ukulele tunes and warm breezes to form a multisensory welcome mat. (What’s called a lei in Hawaii is a hei here. But hey, whether it’s a good lei or a roll in the hei, no one’s complaining).
I spent two days exploring Tahiti itself, bunking down in the luxurious accommodations of Pearl Resorts’ Le Tahiti, a north coast beachfront hotel, thoughtfully oriented so that every one of its 91 accommodations has an ocean view balcony.
Surveying the breakfast buffet, I bypassed the ample but unsurprising American and European fare in favor of local specialties. I was slightly leery about trying po’e, a dish of jiggly beige cubes in a puddle of white liquid. It reminded me of naked tofu. But rather than being produced from relatively flavorless soybeans, po’e is made by puréeing tangy local bananas with vanilla, brown sugar, and tapioca flour, which serves as a binder for what’s essentially a fruit pudding (some home cooks and restaurants substitute mangos, papaya, or pumpkin for bananas).
Baked in a flat pan until semi-firm, the cooked batter is cut into bite size blocks and served while still warm. The puddle? Fresh coconut milk. That liquid local staple is also an essential element of Tahiti’s national dish, e’ia ota. To make this close cousin of Peruvian ceviche and Hawaiian poke, small cubes of raw fish, usually tuna, are briefly marinated in lemon or lime juice, tossed with finely sliced onions and cucumbers, then tossed in a bath of coconut milk, which adds a soft, silky texture to the protein and eliminates the acidic bite of citrus.
How popular is e’ia ota? It turned up not only at that first meal, but on the table at every breakfast, lunch, and dinner I had on the islands, some times as a side dish or appetizer, occasionally as a main course. One night at Le Tahiti, it preceded a decadent beefcake dessert.
Like many large hotels throughout the islands, Le Tahiti presents evening showcases of traditional Polynesian music and dance, but unlike most of these presentations, which focus on the nationally practiced Óri Tahiti, a cousin of Hawaiian hula in which undulating female dancers are centered, the Thursday shows at LeTahiti highlight the aggressively masculine drumming and dance moves native to Tahiti’s Marquesas archipelago.
Grunting, lunging, and rhythmically manipulating fiery torches in rituals once associated with war and worship, a crew of generously proportioned, heavily tattooed men in elaborate beaded loincloths and stone-and bone jewelry magnetized audience members. A double-fantasy for many gay men, it was like The Rock crossed with the Rockettes.
HIGH SEAS,TALL TREES
The fish for e’ia ota are abundant off the shores of Tahiti. So are waves, which makes the island one of the world’s most popular destinations for serious surfers.
On a group daytrip organized through Teahupo’o Tahiti Surfari, I traveled by speedboat to the company’s namesake surf break, where the 2024 Olympics’ surfing event was held. About a dozen watercraft carrying a mix of locals and tourists, serious aficionados and beer drinking looky-loos like me stationed themselves off to the side of where a local competition was being held.
I’d never thought of surfing as a spectator sport, let alone one that could be viewed from offshore rather than standing on a beach. Yet here I was, holding my breath at the spectacle.
Every few minutes, enormous swells rose from the aquamarine Pacific, reaching 7 to 15 feet high before competitors crouched into their roaring barrels and rode for 50 yards or more. It was thrilling to observe from such a short distance, fully conscious of the water’s thundering force and with a scary understanding of how close these waves come to a jagged coral reef that must be avoided at all costs.
The surf break is located off of the less developed, southeasterly lobe of the island, known as Tahiti iti. Later that day, as part of the same excursion, our group of five followed Otilia, our local guide, along a winding, often unmarked trail through the peninsula’s thick palm forest.
While the Islands of Tahiti offer plenty of broad sand beaches punctu ated by convenient shady stands of palm trees, this is a wilder, jungle-like environment. River shrimp abound in muddy creek banks, massive five pound coconut crabs scuttle up the trees, and the rushing sound of a water fall beckons you deep into the green, growing louder until you finally see it, cascading over a wall of rock and vine to feed a secret swimming hole. Trees as tall as 60 feet grow densely, their thirsty, many-tendrilled root systems spreading yards away from their trunks.The grove reaches all the way to the edge of the sea, where its loose grip on the sandy soil combined with a gusty storm can lead one of its number to tumble, setting still-green coconuts afloat and providing an ad hoc diving board for adventurous local children.
GOING COCONUTS
After repeatedly steering us clear of tripping hazards, Otilia, as if by second nature, sprang off of the ground, suddenly scrambling up a tree to fetch refreshment. She brought down young green fruits, then dramatical ly macheted them open, offering us surprising volumes of clear, slightly sweet coconut water. The convenience store juicebox variety is nothing compared to a hard-shelled canteen of fresh elixir sipped in the shade of its mother tree.
Otilia then cleaved the emptied shells open and demonstrated how to scrape the thin, white, gel-like layer from their inside surface. Some times called spoon meat, it has a sweet, pleasant taste and an appeal ing slippery mouthfeel.
Other coconuts are left on the trees for about 11 months, to be harvested after they’ve yellowed and just begun to turn brown. At that point the spoon meat will have evolved into a layer of firmer, oil-rich flesh up to an inch thick. Shaved, soaked and pressed, it produces the coconut milk essential to Tahitian cuisine. Shredded and sweetened, it becomes the familiar, highly polarizing matter found on layer cakes and in Mounds bars.
There was more to learn from our coconutty professor: Scooping up a hairy brown fallen fruit from the ground, Otilia pointed out the green shoot emerging from one end. In ideal conditions, a germinated coconut like this could take root, the seed for a whole new tree, but cracked open on the spot, it revealed a total surprise.
In order to nourish a growing palm, the liquid and flesh within a mature sprouting coconut transforms into a strangely textured orb, delicate, spongy, and crisp. Sometimes off-puttingly referred to as “coconut embryo” in English, Tahitians know it as ‘uto, a favorite forgeable treat. Pulled apart into tufty segments, this alien delicacy melts in the mouth like cotton candy.
TO MARKET
A half-day in central Papeete is well spent wandering the narrow shopping streets and Marché Municipal, the public market, a cheerful red two story atrium that sprawls over a full city block bustles from the pre-dawn hours until 4 P.M. most days.
Unlike many cities popular with travelers, Papeete doesn’t have a “touristy” market apart from where locals shop. The ground floor of Marché is fairly evenly split between a grocery area lined with stalls selling fresh produce, bakery, fish, flower and butcher stalls, and vendors’ displays of jewelry, decorative textiles, and woven baskets. Locals and visitors can all agree on a snack break of coffee with firi firi, 8-shaped donuts enriched with coconut milk.
Tahitian Gardenia (Photo by Diane C Macdonald)
The market is also a good spot to purchase authentic Monoi de Tahiti, an aromatic ointment made by infusing highly refined coconut oil with the petals of the same Tiare flowers used to make those airport welcome leis (they’re also known as Tahitian gardenias).
Traditionally used in Polynesian rituals, locals also swear by monoi for moisturizing skin, conditioning hair, muscle relaxing, and sunburn relief, among other uses. Like genuine Champagne or Prosciutto di Parma, Monoi de Tahiti carries an official Appellation of Origin. It’s a local treasure that cannot be produced anywhere but the Islands of Tahiti.
HERE, QUEER, USED TO IT
Over lunch (e’ia ota, naturally) at one of the market’s casual second floor restaurants, I met with Abel Hauata, a transwoman who, at age 19, won the 2022 Miss Université de Tahiti pageant, a competition featuring college students.
Abel Hauata and Jim Gladstone at The Papeete Central Market Hauata, who gravitated toward traditionally female-gendered clothing since she was a child and has never been ostracized by her family or friends, suggested that, despite some post-pageant backlash on social media, her ability to compete, let alone win, points to a genuine live-and-let-live approach to gender and sexuality among Tahitians of her generation.
Abel Hauata and Jim Gladstone at The Papeete Central Market
While she’s comfortable identifying herself as trans in the context of an interview with PASSPORT, Hauata, who now works in communications for the government Ministry of Youth and Sports, says that the sort of LGBTQ+ self-identification that’s common practice in much of the world is not typical in her own daily life or that of her Tahitian peers.
Even Tahitian terms like mahu and the more pejorative rae-rae lead Hauata to wrinkle her nose in distaste. “My friends and I don’t really use those words. We’re just ourselves.”
Marania Teuru, 36, a representative of the Tahiti Tourisme nodded vigorously as Hauata answered my questions. She noted that a similar perspective prevailed among her neighbors and schoolmates when she was growing up in Tahiti.
“My childhood friends, and today my co-workers, include all kinds of queer people,” said Teuru who is a colleague of the CEO of Tahiti Tourisme, Jean-Marc Mocellin, who identifies as gay. “But we don’t think much about it,” she noted with a slight shrug and a wide smile. “Nobody needs to give themselves a label. They just are.”
Teuru, a native Tahitian, left home to study abroad in Hawaii and has subsequently done a wide range of international travel for both work and leisure (San Francisco is a particular favorite city of hers), but she says she can’t imagine settling down anywhere but the Islands of Tahiti (she’s personally visited all 118). And other than decorating tourists’ clothing, she suggests you’d be hard-pressed to spot Pride flags, rainbow paraphernalia, or pink triangles on any of them.
While the national social activist group Cousin Cousine has successfully worked to assure that French anti-discrimination laws and same-sex marriage rights are upheld, they’ve had less success garnering enthusiasm for Pride celebrations in the typical American/Western European mold.
Gay Tahitian clothing designer and entrepreneur Steeve Liu, who has enjoyed attending LGBTQ+ events internationally, fantasizes about developing full calendars of Euro-style circuit parties, festivals, and Pride Month events in Papeete.
While that might attract a certain jet-setting subsection of international tourists, it feels antithetical to the real local ethos. There’s not a single specifically queer nightspot to be found in the Islands of Tahiti. Steeve Liu’s most successful venture to date is Malabar, a jubilant downtown dance bar where the weekend crowds of locals and tourists spilling onto the sidewalk are a giddy mix of queers, straights, devil-may-cares, and other free-spirits,
It seems that for most queer Tahitians, “Tahitian” is a point of pride, “queer” a simple fact of life.
IN NATURE’S EMBRACE
Whether hopping from Tahiti to Rangiroa to Taha’a as I did, or exploring Moorea, Bora Bora, and beyond, you’ll realize that while each has unique charms, the islands share their greatest glory: the blissful blur of blue that all but overwhelms them.
The tallest palm trees are frond-topped toothpicks against the endless expanse above. Entire atolls are mere pebbles, strewn across the Pacific. The collective landmass of French Polynesia is slightly larger than Paris. The ocean it spans? About five times the size of France. Days spent amidst Tahiti’s archipelagoes are an elemental experience. You find yourself, nearly immaterial, a subatomic pinprick on the cusp of sea and sky.
Environmental consciousness takes on new meaning as you meld into the surroundings. Average air temperatures hover around 80 degrees year round, the water even a bit warmer. During a swim in the midday sun, you’re encircled by horizon, at once dissolving and made whole. Dawn and dusk bring extravagant mergers of orange and purple. Nights are spent beneath a black velvet blanket, densely speckled with stars.
HANGING IN RANGIROA
The world boasts many a Blue Lagoon. Iceland’s has swim-up bars and hot water that’s run-off from a nearby power plant. Fiji’s still pulses with the sexual energy of Brooke Shields and Christopher Atkins, who made it famous with an eponymous 1980 teen romance film. But the Blue Lagoon alongside the island of Rangiroa, just an hour’s flight from Tahiti, is all about baby sharks. It’s absolutely worth a visit, but at your own risk.
The danger comes not from the torpedo-shaped sea kiddos, but from any American tourists of child-rearing age who happen to join you on an excursion here. They will undoubtedly begin singing that infernal kiddie earworm (“Baby shark, da-doot da doot doot”) and perhaps even Facetime their toddlers for a family jamboree (it happened).
Blue Lagoon in Rangiroa (Photo by Eva Abal)
The young black-tipped reef sharks that swim just off the shore of a popular sunbathing islet in Rangiroa’s Blue Lagoon are harmless, and a marvel to behold. The youngest, sometimes under a foot long, cruise closest to the shoreline in water that’s barely knee high. Sit amidst them, cross-legged in the sand, or wade in with a snorkel and glide alongside them.
The turquoise water is calm and crystal clear. Gaze a few yards further out to see arrays of adolescent sharks four feet long and larger. Long heralded as a scuba divers’ paradise, Tahiti offers a multitude of opportunities to encounter sea life for less adventurous visitors, whether while snorkeling or simply observing from a boat deck or the shore. Locals will happily point you to prime viewing spots throughout the islands, and guide-led boat trips can easily be booked online and through most hotels.
My half-day in the Blue Lagoon, organized by Kamaina Excursions, included an umbrella-shaded lunch on the beach and a stunning surprise on the way back to the Rangiroa dock. Amidst a rising tide, we motored through a stretch of blue known as the Tiputa Pass. Waves began to swell behind us, and as they reached their highest points, tall and taut, we gazed, amazed, through their glassy walls: Dolphins swam within the waves, then disappeared with each cresting.
Home on Rangiroa was the Hotel Kia Ora Resort, a village of discrete suites and bungalows simultaneously offering an ideal balance of desert island seclusion and the amenities of a major vacation destination. Beneath thatched roofs lies modern luxury.
My private two-story accommodation, with an interior of more than 1000 square feet, featured a lounge and bar on the first level, and a sprawling king bedroom and bathroom with soaking tub and shower on the second.
With a stone wall surrounding the suite’s small manicured yard, a starlit skinny dip in the plunge pool proved irresistible. The next day, I set immodesty aside and enjoyed cocktails with fellow guests on the grand wooden deck by Kia Ora’s beachside infinity pool.
Dining options include romantic sunset dinners for two, set up and served in remote beach and garden locations. At the resort’s main restaurant, Te Rairoa, a la carte menus of Polynesian and continental fare are served most nights, but Wednesdays and Sundays feature an island barbecue buffet highlighted by grilled local fish.
If a honeymoon-worthy resort isn’t your style of stay, there’s a whole different Rangiroa vibe at the small, family owned and operated Relais de Josephine, where up to four surfing or scuba enthusiasts can stay in each of seven simple, freestanding cabins.
Guests here tend to spend their time engaged in outdoor adventures. Hosts Corinne and Jean-Robert can hook you up with a boat rental (with or without a captain) and have bicycles on loan for rides along Tahiti’s longest paved road.
There’s a casual, meet-new-friends atmosphere at the Relais’ open to-the public indoor-outdoor restaurant with a small adjacent lawn overlooking Tiputa pass. One could easily pass a few morning hours here, nursing a cafe au lait and watching the dolphins at play.
OVER WATER AND OVER THE TOP
Like many intra-French Polynesia trips, getting to my third and final island required a stopover and plane switch back on Tahiti. Visitors (and their travel agents) should be mindful of this typical transfer scenario, particularly for brief vacations, since a half day can easily be consumed by a pair of short flights and an intervening layover. Sometimes, one less island can lead to much more smiling.
In this particular case, I grinned from ear-to-ear throughout the final two days of my adventure, which were based at one-of-a-kind Le Taha’a. This Relais & Chateaux resort is located on its own private islet, a short cross-lagoon boat transfer from Raiatea, the larger island where the airport is located.
Le Taha’a features 58 rooms, including villas scattered throughout its lush, tropical grounds, and overwater bungalows lining three gracefully curving piers. I stayed in one of the latter, never happier to be living a big fat cliche. One blossom-adorned room service mai tai and I was set.
While a rustic, Robinson Crusoe-style shack would have sufficed given the setting, the bungalow’s interior design was ingenious. Custom made furnishings included a built-in settee, semi-circular writing desk, and a wall of sliding panels to separate the double-sinked bathroom with deep soaking tub. In lieu of overwrought nautical motifs, rough-hewn rope braids were cleverly used as door handles, drawer pulls, and lamp pedestals.
Overwater Bungalow in Bora Bora (Photo by Gerold Kreuzinger)
White tiare flower garlands are draped over guests’ shoulders, their rich vanilla-meets-jasmine fragrance mingling with the ukulele tunes and warm breezes to form a multisensory welcome mat.
I could have easily spent the next 48 hours toasting Bora Bora’s twin peaks in the distance, lolling on my personal patio, serenading the gulls from my outdoor shower, and occasionally dipping into the powder blue Pacific from the bottom of my private seaside staircase.
But the islet offered more to explore, including a working pearl farm, where I observed strange and painstaking surgery: A complex tissue structure being grafted from one black-lipped oyster into the gonad of a second using razor sharp instruments under a magnifying glass. Once implanted with that tissue and a tiny bead of shell, around which a pearl will form, these oysters are returned to shallow seawater for up to three years before their gems are harvested.
I also visited one of the many vanilla farms on Taha’a, where I learned that, like cultivating pearls, the process of producing one of the world’s favorite flavorings is a meticulous and painstaking affair. Tahitian vanilla beans are the fruit of a local orchid species. The flowers, which bloom on their vines between July and September each year, die within hours (and don’t produce a bean pod) if not pollinated. The species of bee that once did this job is virtually extinct. So, throughout the three month season, growers arise early each morning to walk their grounds, looking for rare new blooms to save, then pollinating them, gently, by hand.
Each vanilla blossom is both male and female. This is true of each oyster as well. In the Islands of Tahiti, mahu are treasured.
A QUIETER KIND OF PRIDE
After the fabulous fish-feeding adventure on my last afternoon at Le Taha’a, I thought about the queer travelers I’d crossed paths with over the past week in Tahiti. They’d seemed unselfconscious, utterly at ease. And when I considered the conversations I’d had with queer Tahitians and representatives of Tourisme Tahiti, it occurred to me that the last thing their country needed was to promote a sort of pro forma Pride tailored to foreign tourists.
Opening gay bars, sponsoring queer festivals, and flying our flags might send a shorthand signal to LGBTQ+ folks from abroad, but through long-honored culture and everyday values, Tahiti already offers a more authentic, organic, and meaningful welcome.
As I saw while drifting through that magical coral garden: a rainbow runs through it.
The Islands of Tahiti Resources
GENERAL INFORMATION
Tahiti Tourisme • Comprehensive information on islands to visit, best dive spots, cultural background, etc. tahititourisme.com
HOTELS & RESORTS
TAHITI
Le Tahiti by Pearl Resorts • 91 ocean view suites on a wide, secluded beach. Two different cultural shows weekly. letahiti.com
Hilton Hotel Tahiti • Beachfront luxury, multiple dining options and less than 10 minutes from the airport. Perfect for a night
in Tahiti between other island stays. hilton.com
Traditional Tahitian Tuna Salad (Photo by Dolly Marlin)
RANGIROA
Kia Ora Resort & Spa • Spectacular seaside garden setting, features overwater bungalows and two-story thatched-roof suites with private plunge pools. hilton.com
Le Relais de Josephine • Casual free-standing rooms, with stunning views of a major dolphin playground. Lovely alfresco restaurant. relaisjosephine-rangiroa.com
TAHA’A
Le Taha’a by Pearl Resorts • Ingeniously designed overwater bungalows are the accommodation of choice at this private islet resort with snorkeling in a kaleidoscopic coral garden. letahaa.com
TOURS & ACTIVITIES
Do not hesitate to ask hotels to handle tour bookings; some websites are only in French, but English speaking guides are generally available.
TAHITI
Teahupoo Tahiti Surfari • Visit the world famous surf break and wild coastal areas on customizable full and half-day tours by boat
and foot. tahitisurfari.com/en
Papeete Central Market • Produce, souvenirs, snacks, and more in the bustling heart of the islands capital city tahititourisme.com/a-visitto-papeete-market
Malabar • The buzziest dance bar in Papeete is a magnet for the queer community, but welcomes everyone. instagram.com/malabar.tahiti
RANGIROA
Kaimana Excursions • Enjoy a picnic in paradise on a full day boat tour, with snorkeling, the Blue Lagoon and baby shark
nursery. rangiroa-activites.com
TAHA’A
Aro Ma’ohi Tours • Discover the intricate processes involved in cultivating pearls and growing vanilla. tahititourisme.com/equipment/aro-maohi-tours
