Paradise Found : Rangiroa and 77 other islands are part of Tuamotu Archipelago, a region known as one of the finest diving areas on earth

Though the air is soft and the sky blue, a feeling of something primitive and passionate beats in the breeze. From far across the sea a tempest is brewing in shades of deepest gray, marking a dark pathway at the edge of the horizon.

Looking out across Taeoo, known as the Blue Lagoon by Rangiroans, this impending vision gives you a slight thrill as the silence trembles with a low, thunderous rumble.

A bracelet of ivory beaches with a sapphire center, Taeoo is 40 minutes southwest across the lagoon by speedboat from Avatoru village. Thin white stretches of sand surround a tepid turquoise pool in the middle of Taeoo, forming islets so small that you can walk from one to the other in a circle. The water between them is only a foot deep and warm as bathwater.

A sea god’s jeweled ornament, Rangiroa and its ring of 77 islands, including Taeoo, are part of the Tuamotu Archipelago, and Rangiroa is the second-largest atoll in the world. Stretching 500,000 square miles over the South Pacific, visitors to Tahiti to the south often forgo this trip to the outer islands.

But those who do make the short one-hour leap by plane from Papeete find unforgettable elegance at the edge of a blue-green world. British film director David Lean, whose works include “Lawrence of Arabia” and “A Passage to India,” refers to Rangiroa as his “favorite destination in the world.”

The Tuamotu region, known as one of the finest diving areas on earth, with more than 400 species of dazzling marine animals, is made up of flat, sandy islet tips of submerged volcanic mountains rising from the sea to greet the sun.

Sometimes called “a ship anchored in the ocean,” Rangiroa atoll is populated by 2,000 Paumotu people who regard the sea as their home, their existence dependent on its benevolence.

The Paumotu, which means “isles of exiles,” were named by outcast chiefs from Tahiti and the Marquesas. These are the Far Away Islands. Discoverers from six nations, stumbling upon this Rousseau-like world, took more than 300 years to chart and name them. Who wouldn’t dream of being exiled here?

Unlike other Tahitian islands, the inhabitants of Rangiroa prefer their oblique status in this almost mythical corner of the globe. Their love of their own way of life sometimes comes as a bit of a shock to outsiders.

When a cruise line decided to include the atoll as a stop on its itinerary, they unknowingly offended the locals by doing something which is acceptable, almost de rigueur , in most ports of call around the world.

As 750 tourists flopped onto the narrow beaches, standing on the quiet strip of land like lost souls, they scratched their heads for something to amuse the residents. They passed out small change to the inquisitive brown-skinned children who gathered to watch them, and searched for nonexistent boutiques to deposit more.

After experiencing this money invasion a couple of times, the children would greet the ship each week with outstretched palms.

When their mothers learned what their sons and daughters were up to, they decided to take action. Decked out in their colorfully trimmed palm sun hats, normally reserved for church on Sundays, they lined up one morning in protest. Hands on hips and feet planted firmly, they declared to the captain that his passengers were altering the values of their offspring. As tempers flared and eyes flashed, Rangiroa was taken off the itinerary as a cruise destination.

The common, powerfully appealing fantasy of beachcombing on a deserted South Sea isle can be met head-on in the Tuamotus, particularly on Taeoo. Long regarded by the Rangiroans as one of their secret hideaways, it has no inhabitants and because of changing tides can only be visited for one day at a time.

Every now and then a speedboat whisks would-be Robinson Crusoes from Rangiroa’s first-class Kia Ora Hotel to deposit them, snorkels and sun block in hand, for a picnic on this oasis floating in an azure sea. But the journey can only be made if the sea is calm.

We had to wait several days for this side trip. Then one morning at breakfast our European host announced that the trip was definitely on for that day. Eyes lit up on the dining terrace. The speedboat at the end of the pier was revved up. Goodby civilization, hello “Gilligan’s Island.”

Bopping along at a swift pace, our driver, Matteus, guided our group of seven across some of the most colorful water in the world. Giant sea turtles raced alongside the boat, followed by some frisky dolphins. Soon we were out on the open sea with no land in sight, in the middle of this huge atoll.

Matteus slowed the pace only once during the ride to point out the bird sanctuary of Motu Paio, an islet covered by masses of leafy geo geo trees. Thousands of sea birds gather there, squawking as they hover over their domain.

Fifteen exhilarating minutes later, the high speed of our craft kicking salty spray through our hair, the Blue Lagoon unveiled itself on the horizon, seeming to rise out of the sea.

Reaching another island on the edge of the atoll’s lagoon, we could see that the atoll was shaped like a somewhat flattened doughnut. We waded through the warm water to an islet, a whiff of sweet-smelling mikimiki shrubs in the air. The only sounds were waves lapping, palms rustling and the laughter of our group, who all suddenly turned 15 again.

Firmly embedded in the smooth underwater coral formations scattered between the islets, giant clams opened their violet-edged mouths beseechingly as I stepped over them, gingerly avoiding their vise-like grips. A docile manta ray glided by my feet with a flourish.

Matteus vanished into the trees, reappearing with his straw hat covered in fresh scarlet blossoms. After grabbing a thin, primitive-looking spear, he waded no more than three feet into the water, eyeing the clear sea. Taking aim, he deftly sent the spear flying, a blur of speed.

Large Parrotfish

Retrieving the weapon, he flashed a good-humored grin and held up his catch, a large emerald parrotfish.

Searching the shore for broken branches, Matteus began building a fire. With waves and shouts he announced that lunch would soon be ready. A fresh meal of broiled parrotfish, French Camembert and crusty baguettes is complemented by cold Tahitian Hinano beer and fresh coconut milk that Matteus drained from the fruit of nearby trees. Simplicity never seemed so satisfying.

The afternoon drifted by with the rhythms of the tide. Surrounding the Blue Lagoon, a massive coral wall dropped off to deeper water. We floated along its edge with the undulating current, an Atlantis of starfish and blue sea urchins beneath us. Orange-dotted crabs darted in and out of sea caves as ocean snails, with rare-looking overcoats, tried their hardest to ignore us.

We stepped out of the sea into the storm we saw earlier, which was passing over the lagoon in slow motion, depositing a gentle rain. It seemed to never really touch the skin, so warm was the air that carried it.

Waves Licked Our Feet

Soon the sun returned with a vengeance. Taking shelter under a shady gapata tree, waves licked our feet like a soothing massage as the surf beat ceaselessly in the distance against the reef. The strains of Matteus strumming his guitar, singing songs of sirens and shipwrecks, carried through the trees.

We could almost feel the tension leaving our shoulders, ankles and spines. We were no longer sure what our fingertips were touching, and our backbones sank into the soft sand.

Scraps of half-forgotten poetry floated across my memory. I had expected a rare and beautiful afternoon, but would leave with an impression infinitely more complicated.

As Matteus began to load the boat for the journey back to Rangiroa, we gazed for one last time at Taeoo and saw silvery strands of sand so dazzling in the sunshine that they shimmered like mirages.

Staring into the deep silence of the water I caught a fleeting glimpse of a smiling stranger and thought I saw the reflection of myself. In a sentimental gesture I flung the hibiscus I wore into the lagoon and watched, with a little pang, as it drifted off into the open sea.

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UTA flies from LAX direct to Papeete, Tahiti, three times a week. Round-trip air fare is $729. For reservations and information, call toll-free (800) 2-TAHITI.

Round-trip air fare on Air Tahiti from Papeete to Rangiroa is $255. The one-hour flight is available every day except Wednesday. It can be booked through your travel agent.

Accommodations: The first-class Kia Ora Hotel has 22 bungalows spread along a 400-meter beach, with hot-water showers, terrace and ceiling fans. The rate is $185 a night for two, including an excellent breakfast and dinner. The Kia Ora also offers many activities, including yacht sailing, windsurfing, snorkeling, visits to a nearby village and local musicians. Transfers to and from the airport are included in the hotel price.

For those who prefer an even more casual experience, the lower-priced Pension Estall, at the end of a coconut grove, offers what owner Ronald Estall describes as “a truly Polynesian experience.”

Four bungalows with double and single beds are equipped with a bathroom, and another large cottage sleeps eight. Meals are served in the bungalows; usually it’s fresh crab, lobster and grilled fish from the lagoon. The rate is about $50 per person a day, including three meals. Estall also owns two boats for motu excursions, and says he makes the trip to the Blue Lagoon. Reservations can be made through your travel agent or write to P.O. Box 13, Tiputa, Rangiroa, French Polynesia.

Pension Chez Glorine offers five basic, well-designed bungalows, and is near Tiputa Pass between a couple of islands. The rate is $45 per person, including three meals. The proprietors can also arrange a trip to Taeoo.

Glorine, the manager, will prepare a Tahitian meal for groups, known as Maa Tahiti, which combines all the basic ingredients of Tahitian cuisine. Next to Glorine’s, another pension, Chez Teina, is run by Glorine’s brother, Teina, and offers bungalows at a similar rate. Check with your travel agent on this one.

Village Sans Souci is on a private islet in Rangiroa. Small bungalows border a white beach, and shower and toilet facilities are communal. You sweep your own bungalow because there is no maid service, and fresh linens are supplied. A small restaurant serves fresh lagoon fish. The rate is $350 for two for three nights, and includes boat transport to and from the motu and all meals.

Shopping: The Kia Ora Hotel has a small boutique selling T-shirts, shell jewelry and locally made pareus, the bright wrap-around garments worn by Tahitian men and women. The airport also has a small shop selling similar items.

Transportation: Rangiroa is long, thin and its islands are flat, so the hotel islet can be explored on bicycles, which are available at no charge from the Kia Ora Hotel. Most other lodging places also offer bikes. There is no car rental; transportation to and from the airport is provided by your hotel. Most traveling in Rangiroa is done on the water, in boats from the hotels.

Restaurants: Your hotel is the site for most of your meals, unless you picnic on a deserted motu. The Kia Ora has an excellent French chef who makes the most of native ingredients. One of his specialties is a weekly barbecue of lobster, chops and fresh fish, accented by a spicy Tahitian sauce. Other hotels offer similar menus, but the basic rule to remember in Rangiroa is that most meals will be quite simple.

Climate: There are really only two seasons in French Polynesia, the warm rainy season from November to April and the drier season from May through October. Daytime temperatures average 80 degrees, and there is really no unpleasant time of the year to visit the Tahitian islands. Lightweight summer clothing, sunglasses and plenty of suntan lotion are musts. These items can be quite expensive in French Polynesia, so bring your own. The same is true of film.

Something else to remember: Tipping is contrary to Tahitian hospitality.

For more information on travel to Tahiti, contact the Tahiti Tourist Board, 12233 W. Olympic Blvd., Suite 110, Los Angeles 90064, phone (213) 207-1919.