How Far I'll Go - Moorea
ADVENTURE
After ten days meditating at the Vipassana centre, followed by a week recovering in Auckland, I hopped on a plane bound for Tahiti.
By that time, I’d been exploring New Zealand with Dani for nine months, and winter was starting to drag on. On top of that, I’d heard it was possible to swim with humpback whales in Polynesia, something that had been a lifelong dream of mine. It just so happened that my cousin Joel, whom I’ve only met twice, had lived there and had a friend who organises whale-watching trips. This friend was looking for a driver to shuttle clients from their hotels to the boat (and occasionally join them); it sounded perfect!
Although I landed in Tahiti, I was only staying the night and took the ferry to Moorea the next morning. Hitchhiking my way to the family-run guesthouse where I’d booked a dorm bed, I experienced the infinite kindness of the Polynesians—so gentle and full of goodwill. You immediately feel safe; everything seems simpler, effortless.
I mentioned my plan to house-sit or help out at hostels in exchange for a bed, and I was told it should be possible, as long as I was patient and let life take its course. So, trusting the Universe, I waited.
At the guesthouse, I met three girls, and we had long, enriching conversations, each sharing something unique about spirituality or gender identity.
Between them and Do, my new colleague and friend, I found myself able to put into practice everything I’d set out to do with M.Ananda, while surrounding myself enough to avoid getting too down about leaving Dani in Kiwiland.
After two weeks, I finally got a message about house-sitting at the far end of the island.
I spent the next three weeks looking after Kaïla. I also shared the space with a colony of cockroaches, another of ants, and quite a family of geckos that, while they ate the insects, covered my things in their tiny droppings.
On top of that, I was under camera surveillance and had near-daily video calls with an overly controlling owner, but the little dog was cute, and I was living rent-free at the foot of a mountain covered in wild jungle that grounded and soothed me.
The problem is that since my prison incident in Puerto Rico, I’m banned from stepping foot on American soil. And all the destinations I’m interested in require a stopover in the U.S.
So, I posted a “boat-hitch” notice and got a response from an Australian woman. She first suggested travelling together in Polynesia in December. I explained I was house-sitting in Moorea until 25th September and was looking for an option after that.
"That’s crazy! We’ve just had a last-minute delivery request from Moorea on the 25th, heading to Fiji! You could join us and help out."
Well, off we go. I’ll spare you the details of the preparations in Tahiti before the real departure and the soap-opera-like dramas I watched unfold without getting involved.
We finally set sail for twelve days at sea (technically thirteen, but as we crossed the dateline, we literally skipped Sunday, 6th October), with the British-Australian captain, the Australian woman, and myself.
The first four days, I couldn’t look down without feeling seasick, so I spent long watches on deck staring at the horizon and sleeping.
By the fifth day, I decided I was in control of my body, that the ocean was an old friend, and that the five-metre swell wouldn’t affect me.
I spent an hour cooking and cleaned the whole kitchen (taking regular breaks outside to avoid being sick, ofc), and I ended up feeling awful. But, after a long nap, I fully recovered and wasn’t sick for the rest of the journey!
By the last days, I could even read my book in peace and spent the nights watching the stars. I’d never seen so many shooting stars in my life!
As challenging as it can be to spend twelve days at sea with strangers with whom you don’t have much in common, standing watch under a starry sky after a Pacific sunset, over water of the deepest blue (an average of 8,000 metres deep), has a certain magic to it.
Another extraordinary adventure, then. Not the most restful, but certainly an unusual and fascinating one!
And now, I’ve arrived in Fiji, about to set off exploring. No clear plan here—I’m waiting to hear back from the Australian government about a possible visa, but nothing’s certain. Australia doesn’t particularly appeal to me, but I dream of buying MY house by the Ocean, where I can create freely. And in Australia, salaries are high. Plus, there seems to be a pretty cool queer community in Sydney, where my university friend Manon lives. It’s an option worth exploring!
And now, I’m off to see a Fijian flying circus show.
❂ I deeply thank your for joining me on this new adventure, and I leave you with a little series of South Pacific-style sunsets ❂
And all the while, I was driving tourists to see the whales. Until one wonderful day, Do told me she’d saved me a spot on the boat!
The weather conditions were perfect. I’d been manifesting and imagining this day for years, and I was buzzing with excitement.
As soon as the boat left the lagoon, we were escorted by a few dolphins.
Then, before long, the first blows appeared, followed by one, then two tails! I was already crying like a baby.
Quickly, we put on our fins, masks, and snorkels, and swam about 200 metres through the waves (the boat wasn’t allowed too close to the whales). And there, waiting for us, weren’t just two whales, but eight! I cried even harder into my mask while laughing at the same time.
They came from all directions—diving, resurfacing, gliding, and circling one another. It was a true dance, an incredibly rare and exceptional sight. Even the guide was stunned; she’d never seen anything like it. After returning to the boat, we went back in for a second swim, and this time a whale approached our group (I was, of course, right at the front) and swam within three metres of my colleague and me. I was speechless. It was a timeless moment.
For months, I’d been telling Dani that I was going to "dance with the whales", constantly mixing up the words for "swim" and "dance" in Spanish (don’t ask me why). And that’s literally what happened that day. Such a gathering is something truly extraordinary, and as I floated there, gently waving my arms, males and females arranged themselves vertically and began spinning around.
This enchanting dance will remain one of the most magical moments of my life.
During the five weeks I spent in Moorea, I was lucky enough to go out on two more trips, which were more "normal".
While less spectacular than that first “gift” of a moment, I did see a mother teaching her very young calf how to swim and breathe, and I even heard a male singing, hiding in the depths as he awaited a mate. Whales are magical beings, timeless deities to be protected.
I am infinitely grateful for those extraordinary moments I spent with them.
Un aperçu .Aside from the whales, Moorea is also a paradise of colourful fish, rays of all kinds, turtles, and harmless sharks (as long as you stay on the lagoon side). Here, have a look here
I had planned to start scuba diving there, but things didn’t go as expected, so I enjoyed the island in other ways before deciding to leave.
But I absolutely must return to Polynesia. Although Do gave me a glimpse of Polynesian culture and showed me hidden corners of the island that looked like something out of a Disney film (Moana means "water", by the way), I still yearn to learn traditional tattooing, explore atolls and coral reefs, and learn Tahitian dancing.
But at least I can now open a coconut, extract the water and milk, and grate it the traditional way. Almost worthy of Survivor, I must say! (Actually, speaking of Survivor, Polynesians find it hilarious watching Westerners struggle on islands brimming with resources they can’t seem to identify.)
And truly, Polynesians are incredibly kind and calm people. They live in harmony with their environment, their home is a small paradise and they know it, so they go with the flow and embrace life and all it offers with great serenity. It does wonders for you.
But I felt it was time for me to move on. I’ll be back, and that’s okay.
