Polynesia

Having children changes everything. Take, for example, the notion of the vacation. When my husband, Greg, and I added progeny to the mix, not only were we forced to seek child-friendly destinations but we also were faced with zealous grandparents.

My parents live in New Zealand and feel cheated out of time with our two daughters, who live with us in California. They have resolved this by inviting themselves along on our vacations. My American in-laws happen to be chummy with my parents and don’t like to miss out either. Hence, once a year we gather somewhere overseas.

Despite parental protestations of “Oh, any old place will do, darling, it will be lovely just to be together,” requirements for these multi-clan holidays are stringent. Destinations must be exotic yet not squalid, free of pestilence and poisonous organisms and sparsely populated by people. There must be swimmable water, balmy weather, identifiable cuisine. The culture should not venerate weaponry. In today’s world that’s a tall order.

The planning of these vacations always falls to me. Last year I needed a location suitable for our daughters, Sofia, then 2, and 4-year-old Indigo; my surfer husband; my parents, Margaret and Peter Crotty; and my mother-in-law, Ellen Gibson. The last three fall between the ages of 68 and 78. My father-in-law chose to stay home in the U.S., so we numbered seven.

Someone suggested Tahiti, and I cringed. On our last visit, Greg and I had been surrounded by honeymooners -- hordes of clasping, thong-wearing couples careening about on Jet Skis.

But research showed me there’s more to French Polynesia than Tahiti. There were other, less spoiled islands, and they weren’t as geared toward lovebirds.

Although many people refer to the 130 islands of French Polynesia as Tahiti, the French territory is made up of five island chains: the Society, Marquesas, Gambier and Austral islands and the Tuamotu Archipelago. Tahiti is in the Society Islands, as is Bora-Bora, Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea, Tahaa and a few others.

Because our group spanned three generations and we didn’t want to travel more than we had to, we decided to stick to the closely clustered Society Islands of Huahine, Raiatea and Tahaa.

Cramped quarters

Last November we took a nine-hour nonstop flight from Los Angeles to Papeete, the capital of French Polynesia. We met my parents there, then connected to a 45-minute flight to Raiatea.

The 18-seat plane flew over coral atolls, which looked like petri dish amoebas from above. The blues of the sea -- ranging from turquoise to cerulean -- were transparent and intense, and the islands were thickly topped with palms and ringed with bands of glowing white sand.

Our plan was to rent a yacht and spend the first week of our two-week trip sailing in and around Raiatea and Tahaa. It was cheaper than paying for several rooms at resorts and interisland flights. Plus, by boat we could reach places where there were no roads and small, white sand, palm tree-fringed motu, atolls that typically lie off the larger islands. Motu are the most seductive part of the South Pacific.

Greg and my father are experienced sailors, so we rented a bareboat mono-hull yacht from Sunsail on Raiatea. Because we booked only two months before our trip, no large boats were available. We seven shared a 41-foot, three-cabin Beneteau, and it was far too small.

It had a fiberglass hull with fully equipped galley, dining table-cum-spare bed and two bathrooms. Next time, I would add 10 feet for privacy and probably step up to a catamaran.

After the Sunsail staff briefed us on the operation of the boat, anchorages and navigation, we set out late in the day, sailing for an hour and stopping behind Tipaemau, a motu off northeastern Raiatea. We arrived at sunset, dropping anchor in gin-clear waters, alone under a falling orange sun.

That night we mixed a batch of daiquiris and cooked steaks on the barbecue at the back of the boat.

My mother, a gourmet cook, had arrived with bags heaving with foodstuffs and alcoholic beverages. She had brought coolers of vacuum-packed lamb and beef because she had heard that meat costs its weight in gold in Tahiti.

I ridiculed her, embarrassed by her overpreparation. But my mother had the last laugh when I saw the price of food in a Raiatea supermarket. Think $10 for a jar of olives.

The Society Islands import many products from France. Wine was plentiful and affordable. Hard liquor, though, costs twice as much as in American stores.

We woke the next morning to a mirror-flat sea and a cobalt sky. Tahiti has mild weather year-round, meaning that temperatures vary from 72 degrees in July to 88 degrees in January. We were there in November, the tail end of the dry season, when rain is expected, although only in bursts.

The forecast was for fine weather, and I prayed to the god of family ties that this would continue.

We spent the first couple of days sailing around Raiatea, the largest of the Society Islands at 140 square miles and about 7,000 inhabitants.

It is sacred to Tahitians and was once the religious and cultural center of traditional Polynesian life. There are no beaches on Raiatea’s mostly volcanic shoreline, but it has dozens of motu within sheltered reefs. It’s perfect for cruising.

One morning Greg and I went ashore at Uturoa, the only modern town on Raiatea. We rented a small jeep and drove the island’s 42 miles of road. Greg had heard there was a good surf spot off the southern coast, but because of the reef, it was dangerous to get there by yacht. We passed riotous tropical greenery, roadside waterfalls, villages of small clapboard houses and waving locals. We found the surf: huge barrels rolling onto the razor-sharp reef. But we needed a motorboat to get out to them, and the local fishermen were gone for the day.

So we returned to the yacht and hauled anchor for Tahaa, which shares a sweeping lagoon with Raiatea. Tahaa, like Raiatea, doesn’t have many mainland beaches, but it has serene bays and virginal motu.

On both islands the locals live quietly and traditionally. The pace of life is slow, tourism is nominal and most islanders live off the land, fishing and growing their own vegetables.

Tahaa is known as the vanilla island for its multiple vanilla plantations, although most of French Polynesia’s wealth comes from pearl farming.

Since the Japanese introduced the trade in the 1960s, several families have grown rich. High-quality black pearls are beguilingly lovely and staggeringly expensive. My advice: Check out prices in the U.S. before parting with a small fortune anywhere in French Polynesia.

A birthday feast

Sofia’s third birthday fell four days into our trip, and we asked her what she’d like to do.

“Now that I’m 3,” she announced, crossing her legs, “I think I’ll go out to dinner.”

Right. As we looked around at only sun, sea and sand, that didn’t seem like an option, so we radioed Sunsail to seek counsel. Indeed, nearby was the Tahaa Grill, a restaurant on Motu Atara off Tahaa’s northeastern coast. My mother, whom our girls call Mopsie, baked a cake in the yacht’s tiny oven. We sailed north and rowed ashore.

The dining room of the Tahaa Grill was a charming open-sided palapa, built of branches, palm fronds and driftwood on the beach. The kitchen was in a separate hut. Owners Guiliane and Severine Tognetti, a Swiss couple who dropped out of city life, moved to this minuscule paradise and built the restaurant. Guiliane is the chef and Severine the server and bartender. With fresh lobster thermidor, mahi-mahi and shrimp on the menu, it was the best meal of the trip -- except for my mother’s lamb and beef, of course.

The birthday girl glowed, and I overheard her say, “This is my favorite birthday ever.” I doubt she recalled previous such celebrations, but it will certainly be a hard one to top. The following morning, when lying on deck with a lollipop, the boat rocking gently and the warm breeze swirling her hair, Sofia, the new sophisticate, yawned, rolled over and said, “Life’s good.”

On board the boat we got along famously. Our parents had us as a captive audience in a distraction-free environment. “I haven’t held this much of your attention since you were 5 years old,” my mother-in-law told Greg.

We spent the rest of the week touring pearl farms, hiking Tahaa’s inland trails, witnessing the painstaking process of harvesting vanilla, swimming, fishing and eating lamb and beef. We also pulled in to inspect the new uber-luxe Tahaa Pearl Beach Resort and Spa, which had minimalist Asian-inspired suites with private pools and quintessential over-the-water bungalows.

Then we returned the boat to Raiatea and flew to Huahine, a wild and lovely place with lots of opportunity for outdoor activity. We had reserved rooms at the Te Tiare Beach Resort, part of the luxurious Tahitian Pearl Resorts chain and accessible only by a quick boat ride from Huahine’s main town of Fare.

French Polynesia’s outer-island hotels are typically resorts and very costly. The only alternative is pensions, which would definitely not do for our parents. Although I typically deplore beach resorts, the Te Tiare was lovely. We booked three garden bungalows because they were more spacious and safer for our daughters than the over-the-water rooms.

The hotel was elegantly casual, neither overdone nor cheesily cheerful. The menu was excellent Franco-Polynesian food; the best dish was poisson cru, raw fish marinated in lime and coconut milk.

One morning while Greg went off in the hotel boat to find surf breaks, Mopsie and I caught the shuttle boat to Fare and rented a jeep, intending to explore much of Huahine’s 45 square miles. Huahine is actually two unspoiled volcanic islands joined by a bridge. Huahine Iti to the south has the better beaches; Huahine Nui has inland hiking trails, luxuriant foliage and ruins from ancient Tahitian cultures.

We first headed south to Huahine Iti, navigating the narrow road past the wooded Mt. Haoroa, beside crystalline lagoons, over coral embankments and through tangled jungle. Our destination was lunch at Pension Mauarii, a bungalow-style hotel on an idyllic beach on the island’s southern tip. The hotel, which is booked months in advance, has an acclaimed restaurant and is a hangout for young French travelers. Built with exotic woods, thatching and bamboo, with shells embedded in the walls, it was funky and fun, and the large bungalow would be perfect for a family. This was the only place I saw to rival the more expensive resorts.

After lunch we drove back up to the eastern side of Huahine Nui to see marae ruins. Marae are Tahiti’s pre-missionary places of worship -- open-air platforms where gods were invoked, human sacrifices made, rituals held and where chiefs from all over the South Pacific met. There was not much left but a few upright rocks, but it came to life after a visit to the Maeva Museum, with its renderings of hefty, leaf-bedecked chiefs and svelte, grass-skirted women.

Tahitian women are lovely. In the 18th century, most Western sailors thought they had found nirvana when greeted by such beauties, who went about bare-breasted. Of course the missionaries swiftly changed all that.

At the end of the day, Mopsie and I returned to the Pearl. The girls were having a Tahitian dancing lesson from one of the hotel waitresses. The rest of the family was lounging by the pool and trading clan scandals. It had been a peaceful and delightful vacation, with no human sacrifices necessary.

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Peaceful Polynesia

GETTING THERE:

From LAX, nonstop service to Papeete is available on Air France, Air Tahiti Nui and Air New Zealand. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $896.

TELEPHONES:

To call numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (the international dialing code), 689 (country code for French Polynesia) and the local number.

WHERE TO STAY:

In Huahine, Te Tiare Beach Resort; (888) 600-8455 (reservations in the U.S.), fax (310) 410-7775, www.tetiarebeachresort.com. Doubles from $285.

Pension Mauarii; 68-86-49, fax 60-60-96, www.mauarii.com. Doubles from $74.

Sofitel Heiva; 60-61-60, fax 68-85-25, www.sofitel-heiva.com. A bit long in the tooth but a lovely location and a decent price if you stay in a beachside garden bungalow. Doubles from $241.

In Tahaa, the Tahaa Pearl Beach Resort and Spa; 50-84-52, fax 43-17-86, www.pearlhotels.com. Doubles from $680.

WHERE TO EAT:

The Tahaa Grill, Motu Atara, Tahaa. No phone, but radio ahead in the morning for a booking.

The Tahaa Pearl Beach Resort and Spa (see above). The resort has an elegant restaurant with formal dining. Call ahead to reserve.

Pension Mauarii (see above). Great seafood in a funky beachfront atmosphere. Moderate prices.

Restaurant Snack Bar Te-Marara, 68-70-81. A great place in Fare, the main town on Huahine. Fresh fish, lobster and poisson cru.

YACHT CHARTERS:

Sunsail, 980 Awald Drive, Suite 302, Annapolis, MD 21403; (800) 327-2276, fax (410) 280-2406, www.sunsail.com/usa. Our boat, a 41-foot Beneteau, cost $3,360 for the week during low season. A midsize monohull begin at $3,220 in low season; a catamaran, $4,830.

The Moorings, 19345 U.S. Highway 19N No. 4, Clearwater, FL 33764; (800) 535-7289 or (727) 535-1446, www.moorings.com. For a 40-foot bareboat in low season, rates begin at $4,900.

TO LEARN MORE:

Tahiti Tourism, 300 Continental Blvd., Suite 160, El Segundo 90245; (800) 365-4949 or (310) 414-8484, fax (310) 414-8490, www.tahiti-tourisme.com.

-- Amanda Jones