The anchorage in Taravai is like a storybook painting, the kind you might say, “wow, this artist had some imagination to make this up… pity it’s not real. ”
Picture this: the sun rises over the impressive peaks of Mangareva to the east. It lights up the scattered islets, each ringed by turquoise and blue. They butt up against Taravai’s steep green slopes, which like a dragon’s spine, is an undulating mass of trees ranging from edgy pines to lush mango; with accents of flowers and vertical rock. At the base of this spectacle of Nature lies a big white church spire, sticking out of the palm trees, right next to the beach!
After our scare with the coral, though, we waited before exploring the island: it was time to get shipshape. Laundry was done with buckets of rainwater from the last storm; sails stowed; gear organized. Finally we headed to shore.
We only made it 100 feet from the sand: to the house of Herve and Valerie, one of only two families that permanently live on Taravai.