Rangiroa is an atoll in the Tuamotu Islands in the South Pacific. It is one of the largest atolls in the world, which may not mean much until you understand just what an atoll is.
An atoll is a coral island typically shaped like a necklace. Rangiroa's lagoon – the water enclosed by the necklace – occupies 630 square miles, although the area of the necklace itself is only 15 square miles! So if you’re on one side of that skinny necklace it is not possible to see the rest of the island; the lagoon is too big.
The Rotterdam anchored just inside the lagoon (there are hundreds of breaks in the necklace) and we tendered in to a village called Avatoru. The scenery was a Hollywood South Sea Island set, complete with beautiful beaches, palm trees, Polynesian men pounding drums, and pretty Polynesian girls selling black-pearl necklaces. I sashayed over to a pair of teenagers and asked them how many people lived on Rangiroa. The puzzled looks told me I was speaking in the wrong language. So I tried French, which worked. The girls huddled, first to agree on the answer to my question, then to figure out how to communicate it to me. Then one girl whipped out a calculator, typed some numbers, then showed it to me: 2000. The new universal language is digits.
Some brave tourists plunged into the water and swam; others, I among them, strolled along the dirt road that led to the other side of Paradise.
There are hotels on Rangiroa, and even an airport, so one can fly the 365 miles from Tahiti. But Rangiroa is not Palm Beach, and anyone venturing to Rangiroa should bring along a few good books to read.
And the scenery is beautiful, but unvaried. An atoll is an atoll, after all, and there are no mountains to climb or valleys to explore. But for a beachcomber, it’s as good as it gets
