Travels of Note: The Secret Beach

“We’ll have it all to ourselves!” he exclaimed as we sat backstage, waiting to play our ballroom dance set. Francois continued to boast about this secret beach that he knows about on Huahine Island. “You have to bike ride 20 minutes and then leave the bikes and hike 10 min to the beach. Nobody knows about it. Only the locals” Francois continued. I admit it sounded amazing. A “secret beach.” All to ourselves, and no passengers from the ship to crowd the place up? Yeah, that sounds like a great way to spend our day in Huahine!

The next morning I went down to the crew office and rented my bike. I called Francois and we met up down by the tender. We loaded our bikes up and went ashore. Looking up into the sky I saw mostly clouds. Not the friendly kind either. The kind that could, in an hour, just pour right on top of us. I mean, it could also clear up just as easily. The weather in the tropics is an unpredictable beast. Turn your back for a second, and you may find yourself all wet. I lean over to Francois and ask, “Hey, you think it might rain?” In which he replied “ Oh no way! It’s just a few clouds. It should be fine” he reassures me. We get to the dock and unload our bikes. As we step onto land, Francois looks up to the sky and says to me with giggle, “We’ll maybe it might rain!” An immediate “fuck” sighs in my mind. I’m carrying my camera with me and my fear is that the carrying case could get so soaked; it might seep into the camera and damage it. I figure if worst comes to worst, I can wrap it in my beach towel.

We start to bike down the street and take in the serine landscape before us. Large, green mountains dovetail the skyline all around. Massive tropical trees scale its slopes to produce a mixture of exotic green textures. The visual aesthetics of the surroundings were incredible.

Once we got to a small white bridge, we hung a left and started up the hills. At one turn it was a sharp incline and the next it was level or even downhill. We reach a fairly steep hill and I pop the bike into its lowest gear. Suddenly, I hear what could only be the chain of the bicycle slipping out of its gears and bring the bike to a quick stop. I wheel the bike to the side of the road and flip it upside down so the wheel and the gears faced up. I manage to grab onto the chain and reset it on the gear. I give it a few cranks of the pedals and it seems to work fine. I look at my hands and they are now caked in axel grease. The only rag or towel I have with me is my white beach/shower towel from the ship. Wearing a plain, black t-shirt, I figure who could possibly notice and I wipe some of the stubborn grease from both of my hands. I climb onto my bike and pedal on.

I catch up to Francois and we take a right onto a dirt road. I start to pedal up the next hill and then, oh yes! The chain comes undone again! Just my luck! This is the best ever! All I can think is that this better be LITERALLY the best fucking beach I’ve ever been to, because this whole broken bike thing is getting old REAL quick. I flip the bike over, jimmy the chain once again and try to catch up with Francois. I figure that this chain is slipping only when I’m in the lowest gear (the one gear you probably need the most if you are doing cross country biking). So as long as I stay away from that, I should be ok.

I finally catch up to Francois and we bike through the highest part of the hills. We are over looking the ocean, the trees and literally everything on the island. I see that we are getting closer to what may be a beach and I’m hoping that this will be over soon. We get to a VERY sharp incline in the road and Francois get off his bike and yells back to me “We’re nearly there now! We walk the rest of the way!” I get off of my bike and walk it up the hill. As it finally levels out, he says that we need to hide our bikes here and we hike down the mountain. We climb through thick, waist high plants and find tree trunks to lock our bikes onto. At this point I’m really exhausted. I feel like I sweated double my body weight, My stomach is telling me “yo, dude, your totally gonna puke at any moment now. Get ready.” and I know that we still have a hike left. All I can think about is just getting this over with so I can go pass out under a coconut tree or something and try to get some kind of life back into me.

We start to hike down hill. The jungle has grown dark now. The trees are so thick overhead that little light can shine through. Vines and tree branches are reaching out into the “trail” and I have to constantly have to watch my self as at any moment, one could come out and knock the top of my head. Down by my feel is thick tall plants, loose wood, mud and who knows what else. My imagination starts to run. “What if I get bit by a snake? What if I break my leg? What if a coconut falls from the tree and knocks me out cold?” We are very far from ANYTHING. If something happens, It could be a long time before I’m reached. Francois is walking very far ahead of my now. He failed to mention to me that this hike was going to be like this. If I knew, I wouldn’t have brought sandals and would of brought some proper footwear for this hike. This is slowing me down considerably. Finally I loose sight of Francois. I turn a few corners and finally he is gone. Now I am alone. Its dark, I’m tired and now I very well may be lost. Now my darkest fears are in full swing.

I march on, hoping to see some sign of him soon. Finally, I look down and see a trail in the shrub where someone trampled through. Francois obviously. I follow the trail and eventually find him. He looks back and says to me “ummm…. I think it’s this way. It’s been two years since I was last here so things arnt looking too familiar.” My blood pressure starts to rise. THINGS ARNT LOOKING FAMILIAR?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Now I’m a little worried. When you’re on a long hike away from home, that is a sentence that a hiker following a guide never wants to hear. I keep my mouth shut and just follow him down the hill.

As we descend the hill, something suddenly darts out onto the trail. A small creature with eyes bulging out of its head and six long jagged legs. From its sides, it holds its large fat pinchers over its head and points them towards us as if to point out or intrusion on its territory. It was a crab. A large crab, the size of a football. Francois uses his foot and threatens to kick it and it scurries away into the brush. I think to myself “What is a crab doing this high up into the mountain?” Then I realize we must be closer to the beach than I thought.

We finally reach the bottom. I see through the trees as they start to break away into open land: the beach. Francois turns back with a huge grin. The kind of grin a little kid gets when he discovers that there are worms under the ground in his mom’s garden. He says to me “we made it! It’s all ours now! The beach all to ourselves!” Finally my attitude turns from grief to relief. My crazy death hike is coming to a close and the rich reward of serene, secluded beach is in sight. I look at Francois and his eyebrows slowly arc downward into a V shape. Something must be wrong. He yells back to me “ there is someone here!” I yell back “What?”. He replies, “There is a tour! I think they are leaving… no wait. Never mind.” A tour boat from our ship brought fifty passengers and they just got to the beach at the same moment we did.

The passengers stormed the beach and took over the white sands. We find two beach chairs off to the side under a small tree and sit down. I sit for maybe 30 seconds before one of the tour guide asks Francois in French for us to move further down the beach so that the passengers can have the beach chairs and prime lounging spots. I’m now pissed. The secret beach is not so secret, the hike was on par with Auschwitz, and now we’re getting bossed around by this stupid tour. I go sit under a large tree and sit and sulk. I just need to rest for a while I keep telling myself. Once I’m rested, I won’t be so grumpy. I sit and watch the people around me. The beach I start to notice is actually pretty nice. White sand beach surrounded by a massive jungle. Pretty sweet I must admit.

After I rest for about 20 minutes I get the bright idea to find a coconut and try to break it open to get the milk and meat from the inside. I find a big stick and try to knock a few large coconuts from the tree. I find no luck there. I browse the beach and find nothing promising. François manages to find one and I take to it with a jagged black rock. I manage to break into the outer part which is very fibery and I start tearing away at it. I get to just the nut and with a few massive blows, I break it open and the milk and bright white meat was exposed. I gave half of it to François and I take the other half. “Cheers” we said and we downed the little milk that was inside. I managed to get some of the meat out and munched on it for a while before giving up and throwing the rest in a near by bush.

After getting in the water for a bit and playing a ten-minute game of Frisbee, I look at my watch and realize a few hours had gone by. Francois brings up the fact that we should leave soon and I agree. As we were talking, I noticed the tour guide was bringing around a plate of freshly sliced fruit and when he came towards us, he offered us some. I grabbed a banana and a slice of papaya. It was very cold which made the fruit even more delicious. I said thank you and he moved on to the next passenger.

We collected out stuff and headed back. Francois mentioned that there is a bridge on the way back and the local kids like to jump off of it. He suggests that we go and jump in as well. I approve as we make our way back up the mountain. We finally reach the bikes and before descending, I snap a few photos of the beautiful view in front of us.

The way back was more downhill and therefore much less of a pain. We make it down to the bridge where Francois had gone ahead and had already got off of his bike and was standing on the bridge’s ledge. He exclaimed “ I can stand it anymore! I must end it all!” and he leaps into the warm, turquoise water below. I pedal up and rest my bike on the side of the road. After taking off the bags from my shoulders and removing my shirt, I get onto the ledge. I look down and am surprised by how low the bridge was. It looked higher from a distance. I pinch my nose tightly with my right hand and leap from the ledge. All of my muscles tighten and I wait to hit the water. I brace myself for the impact but its not coming. “Why isn’t it coming?” I think to myself. “This is taking forever” I say outloud and as as i said it, I finally smash into the water. Bathwater I’m thinking. Its so warm it’s like bathwater. I come to the surface and give a mighty yell to relieve my nerves. It was much higher that it looked from the top. This was probably higher than anything I’ve ever leapt from. It was exhilarating though. I swim to the bank and get out of the water. Francois suggested I do it again but this time he’ll snap some photos of me doing it. I set up my camera for him and he climbs down to the bank. I strike my sexiest pose, the “Beach Is That a Way” pose. Then I leap again. This time as I submerged into the water, a bunch of water gets shoved up into my sinuses and I can literally hear the tiny air bubbles floating around in my skull. I get to the surface and check out the awesome photos Francois took.

As we climb up to the top of the bridge again, two small Tahitian boys run up to us. The older one starts asking me questions in French. I turn to François and yell “Francois, they’re speaking French to me!” Francois intervenes and starts speaking them. The kid seems to be interested in his bike. The youngest one turns around and runs back to his home, which is at the end of the bridge. Francois explains the gears on the bike and invites the boy to take it for a ride. The kid rides it up and down the bridge and one of the times he reaches the end of the bridge and keeps on going. I laugh and say, “looks like you just lost your bike!” After a minute or so, he comes back with a giant dump truck nipping at his heels. The kid hangs a hard right onto the bridge and comes back. The kid and Francois chat for a minute and then we decide its time to leave. I say to the kid “See you later dude!” which he returns with a confused stare. We get back to the ship, which was only 5 minutes away. I felt exhausted but also satisfied, happy and accomplished having making the excursion to Francois “Secret Beach.”