Her tale of the South Pacific

I enjoyed “In the South Pacific, a Splendid Isolation” (April 27). Years ago I took a Greek freighter carrying lumber from Coos Bay, Ore., to Papeete, Tahiti, a $300, 16-day one-way experience featuring Tongan crewmen, the smell of oil and seasickness. Being young, adventurous and impulsive, I had no return ticket to show the authorities in Papeete, and they were not too welcoming. After frantic calls to my housemates in Berkeley and my parents, I was sent a ticket to Honolulu.

In Tahiti there was an inter- island ferry that the locals all used, and I ended up in Uturoa city, on Raiatea, and spent some lovely weeks with a family that took me in as if I were a relative.

Then I took a larger supply boat, the Taporo, which transported copra and supplies, up to the Marquesas. The passengers lay on the upper metal decks under a tarp. Families brought food and shared it with others.

I was one of fewer than a dozen nonnative travelers. The Polynesians were ever smiling, cheerful, generous and warm. Because I was not a missionary, off a yacht or a member of the French military, they were suspicious about what I was doing there. Nonetheless I felt safe and welcome.

Although their accessibility and mystique may have changed, it’s obvious the beauty of the South Pacific islands hasn’t.

Debra Trent

Echo Park

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