RAIATEA

We sat in an open-air snack bar on the waterfront, watching the schooner from Papeete being unloaded. The vahine behind the counter was serving papaya and eggs and French bread that she’d toasted on a charcoal broiler.

It was dawn and the town was only beginning to stir. In a corner, a couple of islanders shared a bottle of Hinano, which is a pretty good Tahitian beer but hardly a substitute for orange juice at this early hour. The girl wore a pareu , and her boyfriend wore only shorts and sandals. It was evident that they were content, but how could it be otherwise on an island so blissfully lost in the Pacific?

On Raiatea, the dream lingers. Little changes. Until a few years ago, Raiatea, 120 miles northwest of Tahiti, was out of touch with the world. Trading schooners called occasionally, but the island had no air service. Now, schooners put in regularly and Air Tahiti serves the island. Still, it’s possible to travel for miles on Raiatea without running into another person.

Most vacationers coming to French Polynesia choose Tahiti or Moorea. Or Bora Bora. Those who come to Raiatea come to relax and to fill their souls with the island’s beauty. They’re delivered by canoe through the lagoon and up the Faaroa River, which flows sweet and pure from mountains smothered with clouds.

Grass huts cast their shadows across river banks, wild pigs root through the jungle and mountains rise like monuments, incredibly green, with palms cascading down their flanks.

A good deal of hyperbole has been written about French Polynesia, but who could deny the charms of an island with only a handful of cars, a few minibuses, one paved road and fewer than two dozen hotels and pensions?

On Raiatea, no one hurries. Where would one go? Well, to Uturoa on market day, I suppose. It’s a joy to watch the schooner from Papeete being unloaded. This morning it was piled to the rigging with passengers, mostly Tahitians who’d slept on mats outside on deck.

A white-haired kane strolled down the gangway, a chicken roosting on each shoulder. Another disembarked carrying a pig in his arms while laborers on the wharf took aboard vegetables and watermelons that were grown on Raiatea.

On market day, islanders arrive in Uturoa from remote villages to sell their melons and vegetables, chickens and pigs. They tie strings of fish to rails around the open market stall, then they sip Hinano and wait for customers to arrive.

On Raiatea, waterfalls shower jungles that turn daylight to darkness, and along the island’s country lanes Tahitians ride in tandem on mopeds, sometimes scaring the wits out of chickens that try frantically to cross the road in front of the infernal machines.

Island lads still climb Mt. Temehani, gathering the delicate flower that grows only at the summit, the tiare apetahi . Mysteriously, this bloom is found no where else on earth, and so to prove one’s love for a vahine , an island boy makes the arduous climb, then hurries back before the delicate flower wilts.

Although Uturoa is the second-largest town in French Polynesia, it has but one hospital, a few dry-goods stores, half a dozen groceries, a pharmacy, bank and post office, all strung along one street that one can stroll down, beginning to end, in less than five minutes.

Chez Charles peddles bicycles, backpacks, TVs and radios, and a Chinese grocery across the street is stocked to the ceiling with cans of escargots from France, plus pots, pans, towels, T-shirts and a hundred other items, including won ton soup and hair spray.

Even though Uturoa--and the rest of Raiatea--is little more than a sleepy backwater speck in the South Seas, it didn’t suit Diego Paterlini, who’d sailed to Tahiti from Europe with his French wife, Francoise.

Bought an Islet

So he bought an islet in the lagoon that surrounds Raiatea and built himself a magnificent chalet-style fare and three cottages that he rents to tourists who are seeking nothing more than a place to read and sunbathe, and perhaps walk on the reef and snorkel in the lagoon and study other islands silhouetted on the horizon.

A stone-sculptor from Switzerland, the 38-year-old Paterlini fashioned each piece of furniture by hand. The cottages he built without help. This private isle, 30 minutes by outrigger canoe from Raiatea, is bathed by trade winds and caressed by surf spilling over the reef . . . eight acres of palms and peace.

Although he’s been encouraged to expand, Paterlini refuses to build more cottages. Small, he insists, is beautiful. And so, should someone wish to share his particular slice of paradise, the tab comes to $100 U.S. per person a day, including three magnificent meals, along with the companionship of a boxer and a couple of horses that guests may ride.

Dreamers may contact Paterlini c/o L’Isle. A warning, though, to those who would dare go: Taking leave of L’Isle could be downright excruciating. For those who would prefer to test the waters before committing themselves to a vacation on L’Isle, Paterlini and Francoise welcome day-trippers for lunch or dinner for a reasonable $20.

Only a short boat ride away, Philippe Robin provides shelter on an island in the same lagoon for $180 a day per couple, meals included. The setting, this Frenchman tells you, is like Tahiti was “a long time ago.”

A sign at the dock reads: “Moorings, showers, a bar, bicycles, a washing machine.” It fails to mention fares filled with paperbacks and windows that frame French Polynesia’s startling sunrises.

Best Bargain

Back on Raiatea, a pension operated by a Frenchwoman near Uturoa is possibly the best bargain on the island. With her husband Jason, Mme. Marie-Isabelle de Roland provides shelter and three meals per guest at Pension Greenhill for less than $40 a day, including an island tour by minibus, boat excursions up the Faaroa River, picnic trips to islets in the lagoon and the use of a bicycle. At high noon the view from Greenhill of Faaroa Bay is like a scene out of “South Pacific.”

Born in Indochina, Mme. de Roland has traveled the world, picking up menu items that run from Italian and French to Chinese and Indian cuisine. No shy wallflower, Mme. de Roland insists, “I am the best, I have no competitor.”

Well, that’s not exactly true. Philippe and Aurore Roopina welcome guests in a dozen cottages on the lagoon, six miles from Uturoa. Each unit at Raiatea Village is equipped with a kitchenette. Doubles are pegged at $80 and family units at $117, including transportation from the airport. For lazy types who disdain cooking, meals are delivered to the room.

Down the road, scuba divers are catered to Pension Marie France, whose scruffy accommodations and unkempt grounds bring to mind a scene out of “Tobacco Road.” One barracks contains a dozen bunks at $12 per guest, while five unremarkable rooms (adorned with little more than a bed) are offered at rates ranging from $30 to $45 per couple a day.

The better bets are the slick Hotel Apooiti, with a dozen self-contained bungalows on the lagoon near the airport (kitchenettes, free outrigger canoes), or Hotel Bali Hai with its nine overwater bungalows and 27 thatch cottages scattered through a meticulously manicured garden.

While maintenance at Bali Hai has slipped, the old spark that attracted legions of South Seas devotees in the first place hasn’t cooled. Noma, the matriarch of Bali Hai, remains. Erita radiates behind the bar, and Bernadette ignites memories for certain guests who recall her fetching smile years ago.

Escaped From Freeways

This is the hotel built by the “Bali Hai Boys,” the triumvirate from Southern California who traded Los Angeles’ freeways for a fare beside a lagoon. This was far back in the ‘60s, and while the boys are middle-aged tycoons now, an obvious joie de vivre still flames at Bali Hai with its memories of wine and roses and a life style that other men dare only dream about.

Drifting around Uturoa, I dropped by the old Hinano Hotel, which was named after the beer brewed in Tahiti. Only it’s no longer the Hinano. A Frenchman, Roger Bardou, bought it from the Moo Fat family, spiffed it up and renamed it Le Motu.

After this, the Frenchman put down carpets, installed new furniture and splashed a lot of paint. Before this, the locals drank beer and played billiards in the lobby and plugged coins in the jukebox. Their favorite platter was “Estrangers dans la Nuit,” which they played over and over until it was scratchier than a mosquito bite.

The old gang would laugh themselves off their bar stools over the new menu. Instead of Chinese dishes, Bardou turns out French cuisine, Irish coffee and banana splits. Imagine, banana splits in a joint where sailors and fishermen used to toss down boilermakers and bust up the furniture?

The old Ala Moana nightclub next door is closed, cobwebs hanging over the bar. On Saturdays it used to remain open till dawn, with a live band and an old Tahitian who provided the rhythm by pounding a couple of popsicle sticks against the bar.

I asked about the bartender, Ahtchoung, but he’s disappeared. Instead of the mellow music that was played at Ala Moana, they do hard rock at a couple of discos up the street, the Au Zenith and the Tree Star.

It’s the same on Huahine, which the storied South Seas drifter, Henri Konrad, insists is the most beautiful island in the world, not withstanding the love affair James Michener has going with Bora Bora. Huahine is within sight of Raiatea, with an even smaller town than Uturoa.

Lagoon That Flashes

Huahine is a combination of Raiatea and Moorea, with a lagoon that flashes like liquid neon. On Huahine, few read a newspaper. Islanders prefer to study the stars or tend their gardens, and they don’t give a damn whether it’s Saturday, Sunday or any other day of the week.

A long time ago, the London Missionary Society sent recruits down to check out the island. Only the Tahitians weren’t anxious to get all gussied up and go to school. Instead, they preferred to go swimming. Later the French arrived, but they realized it made no sense to mess up the Tahitians’ lives, so they left them alone and fell in step themselves.

Fare, which is the main town, is only two blocks long, with weathered storefronts like those in an old Western. Merchants sell groceries and dry goods, and there’s a bakery that turns out French bread.

In the beginning Huahine had only one hotel. Ah Kim Win Chin rented out four rooms. But guests tired of sharing the single bath, and so the Bali Hai Boys built a smashing hotel with bungalows with thatch roofs and gardens that surrounded man-made lakes.

But because of a union fuss the Bali Hai is closed. Meanwhile, the Sofitel chain will open a new hotel this fall with overwater bungalows and trips to the ancestral shrines of ancient chiefs.

Until then, vacationers are dividing their time between the Relais Mahana and the Huahine Beach Club. Facing an extraordinarily beautiful white-sand beach, the Relais Mahana is operated by a charming French family. Papa Henri Marquet and his wife Arlet share honors in the kitchen; a daughter, Isabelle, greets guests at the reception desk. With 12 cottages, Relais Mahana is one of French Polynesia’s finest small resorts.

Its neighbor, the Huahine Beach Club with its thatch bungalows and tile showers, provides a stunning view of the lagoon. Joel House, an expatriate from San Francisco, provides free windsurfing and snorkeling gear, along with canoes and fishing poles.

At the same time, his 19th-Century gaff-rigged ketch, the Erika, is tied up in the lagoon, awaiting the couple wishing to set sail on a romantic cruise . . . some enchanted evening.

Accommodations:

--L’Isle, B.P. 119, Uturoa, Raiatea, French Polynesia. Three cottages with meals: $100 per person a day.

--Marina Iti, B.P. 888, Uturoa, Raiatea, French Polynesia. Five double rooms priced from $107 single, $180 double, including meals.

--Pension Greenhill, B.P. 598, Uturoa, Raiatea, French Polynesia. Half a dozen rooms priced under $40 a day, including meals.

--Hotel Raiatea Village, Uturoa, Raiatea, French Polynesia. Rates: $60 single/$80 double (these are units with kitchens). A four-person family cottage rents for $117 a day.

--Pension Marie-France, B.P. 272, Uturoa, Raiatea, French Polynesia. A dozen bunk beds ($12) and five rooms with rates ranging from $30 to $45 double.

--Hotel Apooiti, B.P. 397, Uturoa, Raiatea, French Polynesia. A dozen modern bungalows with kitchens priced from $50/$60 double or triple, $70 for a family of four.

--Hotel Bali Hai. Write to 914 E. Katella Ave., Anaheim, Calif. 93805. Nine overwater bungalows, 27 garden cottages. Rates: $93/$200 double. Meals extra.

--Hotel Le Motu, B.P. 549, Uturoa, Raiatea, French Polynesia. 10 rooms, $40 single/double. Meals extra.

--Hotel Sofitel Heiva (opening Oct. 1 on the island of Huahine). Write to c/o Accor Pacific Inc., 760 West 16th St., Suite L, Costa Mesa, Calif. 92627. Rates: $130/$330 double. Meals extra.

--Relais Mahana, B.P. 30, Fare, Huahine, French Polynesia. A dozen thatch bungalows on a spectacular white-sand beach. Rates: $190/$206 double, meals included. Without meals: $115/$130.

--Huahine Beach Club (on the island of Huahine). Write c/o Tahiti Resort Hotels, B.P. 13019, Papeete, Tahiti, French Polynesia. Rates: $95/$115 double. Meals extra.

Note: A 7% tax is added to all hotel bills.

For other details on French Polynesia, contact Islands in the Sun, P.O. Box 1398, Newport Beach, Calif. 92663, toll-free (800) 854-3413, or the Tahiti Tourist Board, 12233 W. Olympic Blvd., Suite 110, Los Angeles 90064, (213) 207-1919.