French Polynesia

Day 0: Arrival

The adventure began before we even left Seattle. Standing in the check-in line at Sea-Tac, we found ourselves surrounded by fellow travelers who shared our passion for the underwater world. Dive watches glinted on wrists, and everywhere we looked, creative solutions for transporting freediving fins caught our eye—some tucked into sleek padded cases adorned with “Fragile” stickers, others protruding comically from backpacks like oversized antenna, and still others ingeniously rolled into teardrop shapes or cleverly packed into unusually long suitcases.

What started as quiet observations between us quickly became an animated group discussion as other passengers overheard our commentary on fin-packing strategies. In that moment, we knew we were exactly where we belonged—among kindred spirits about to embark on an adventure.

Nine hours and one surprisingly comfortable direct flight later, we touched down in paradise. After years of dreaming about this destination, months of meticulous planning, and countless hours poring over accommodation options, the surreal moment had finally arrived. As our plane taxied to the gate, the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom: “Local time is 4 AM, temperature is a perfect 79°F, and on behalf of the crew, ia ora na e maeva, bienvenue, and welcome… to French Polynesia!”

Day 1: Ferry to Moorea & First Impressions

Following our arrival to Tahiti, we took a 30 minute ferry to Moorea, where we’ll be spending the next several days. Moorea’s shape has inspired countless poetic interpretations: romantics see a heart (hence the “lover’s island” nickname), pragmatists spot a trident, and optimists identify a bird with outstretched wings. Given our current state of water-obsessed minds, we’re convinced it looks like a sea turtle viewed from below—which feels perfectly appropriate for our underwater-focused adventure.

Our rental car turned out to be delightfully compact (read: we had to negotiate carefully with our luggage), but it got us to our accommodation without incident. We’d found this gem through HomeExchange.com, a platform that connects travelers who are willing to swap houses—a brilliant concept that lets you live like a local while someone else enjoys your home turf. The place where we’re staying is a charming Polynesian-style house just a short stroll from the beach, complete with that effortless tropical aesthetic that makes you wonder why anyone lives anywhere else.

Our first culinary adventure was poisson cru, French Polynesia’s national dish of raw fish “cooked” in lime juice and mixed with coconut milk and vegetables. It’s essentially the Pacific’s answer to ceviche, and after one bite, we understood why locals consider it comfort food. Fresh, light, and bursting with flavor—it was the perfect introduction to Polynesian cuisine.

We capped off the day with our inaugural snorkel session, finally putting those carefully transported fins to good use. Watching the sunset from the water, surrounded by tropical fish that seemed as curious about us as we were about them, felt like the official start of our underwater odyssey.

• Accommodation: Home exchange

Day 2: Coconut Dodging at Temae Beach

Armed with snorkels and the rental car agent’s ominous warning about “coconut damage” (apparently falling coconuts are French Polynesia’s version of hail), we headed to Temae Beach. The palm-fringed shoreline looked idyllic until we started playing the world’s most tropical game of parking roulette—finding a spot far enough from any coconut-wielding trees to avoid an insurance nightmare.

The coral reef at Temae proved to be a thriving underwater metropolis. Among the usual cast of tropical fish, we encountered a cowfish. Picture a white box with fins, two horn-like protrusions above bulbous eyes, and an expression of perpetual disappointment. It was so bizarre that we just stared in bewildered fascination, completely forgetting to take photos.

Our other highlight was encountering two black-tip reef sharks (or possibly two encounters with the same curious shark—marine life doesn’t come with name tags). Either way, seeing the shark gently cutting through the crystal-clear water was the kind of moment that makes you forget you’re technically swimming with a predator.

We rounded out the day at the nearby Motu Grill with perfectly grilled swordfish that was both juicy and flavorful. Sometimes the simplest pleasures make great memories.

• Dinner: Motu Grill

Day 3: Tiki Tour & Marine Life Reality Check

Today we joined an aquatic tour of northern Moorea, which promptly recalibrated our expectations of “rare” marine encounters. Yesterday we felt lucky spotting a black-tip reef shark while snorkeling—today we realized that going a full day without seeing any would be an unusual occurrence in these waters. Our marine life bingo card filled up quickly: multiple sharks, stingrays, spotted eagle rays, sea turtles, dolphins, and even distant whales.

Beyond the abundant marine life, the submerged tiki garden of Papetoai offered a different kind of underwater wonder. Local artist Tihoti Guy created this underwater gallery of volcanic stone sculptures, and the site tells a powerful story: when missionaries forced locals to destroy their sacred cultural symbols, the community preserved them by placing the tikis underwater out of both respect and quiet defiance. Swimming among these beautiful sculptures felt like exploring a living museum.

Lunch at Motu Tiahura proved that “waterfront dining” has a different meaning in French Polynesia. We ate at wooden picnic tables that sat ankle-deep in crystal-clear lagoon water, while curious rays and sharks made regular appearances—the ultimate lunch guests who definitely weren’t invited but somehow made the meal more memorable.

• Tour: Moorea Tiki Tour

Day 4: Swimming with Whales

The reason we chose French Polynesia for our vacation was to swim with whales—and today, despite nature’s best efforts to complicate things, that’s exactly what we did.

What began as a sunny, calm morning quickly devolved into a full-scale oceanic tantrum: relentless wind, driving rain, and waves that turned our boat into a maritime roller coaster. When our captain asked if we still wanted to venture out in these conditions, our collective response was a slightly queasy but determined “absolutely.”

Our first whale encounter was more of a cardio workout than a wildlife experience. After spotting them in the distance, we plunged into the churning open ocean, kicking frantically through swells while the whales decided we weren’t worth sticking around for. We hauled ourselves back onto the boat, exhausted and deflated, questioning our life choices.

But the second encounter made every wave worth it. Suddenly energized by determination, we kicked hard toward a humpback mother and calf. As we approached, their massive silhouettes materialized beneath us—graceful, gentle giants moving with an almost choreographed fluidity. They surfaced repeatedly near us, seemingly as curious about these awkward surface-dwellers as we were about them.

The experience left us reflecting on a sobering irony: when humans first developed the technology to hunt whales, we didn’t hesitate to use it, decimating populations worldwide for decades. It took us far too long to recognize these creatures as the intelligent, emotional beings they are. Meanwhile, whales—who could easily harm any human foolish enough to swim near them—have always chosen restraint. What took our species generations to learn, they seem to have understood all along: that respect between intelligent beings should be mutual and immediate.

• Swimming with whales: Moorea Reo Tours

Day 5: Monofin Class with a World Champion

Today Bea took a monofin class with Marine Grosjean, a former world champion freediver—which is roughly equivalent to taking beginner piano lessons from Mozart or learning to drive from a Formula 1 champion.

Understandably, Bea felt a bit nervous beforehand. When you’re about to learn from someone who’s mastered what you’re just beginning, imposter syndrome kicks in hard. Would a world champion really want to spend time teaching a complete beginner the basics? Those concerns evaporated the moment Marine introduced herself, genuinely expressing that her passion lies in introducing newcomers to the sport. Sometimes the best athletes make the best teachers.

The class exceeded all expectations. Marine started with land-based drills to demonstrate the undulating movement that propels a monofin, then progressed to water exercises with regular fins before finally introducing the monofin itself. At each stage, she provided encouraging, actionable feedback that allowed Bea to progress rapidly.

Watching Marine demonstrate proper technique underwater was mesmerizing—like witnessing a real-life mermaid gliding through the water. Her movements were so effortless and elegant, demonstrating the same fluid grace that we admired yesterday while observing whales in their natural environment. Bea found Marine’s technique and teaching incredibly inspiring, and is eager to learn more.

Up until now, we’ve been getting most of our meals at roulottes—street-side food trucks or stands that can be found all over the island. They’re inexpensive, easy, and quite good. But today we decided to celebrate Bea’s discovery of her inner mermaid by treating ourselves to dinner at Rudy’s Moorea Steak and Seafood. Rudy’s fuses French cooking with local ingredients, such as parrotfish stuffed with crab meat, and tarte tatin with pineapple and papaya. We loved everything we ordered.

• Monofin course: Moorea Freediving

• Dinner: Rudy’s Moorea Steak and Seafood

Day 6: When Boats Go Rogue

Freediving can be a dangerous sport if safety precautions are overlooked—but a sinking boat typically isn’t on the list of things that keep freedivers awake at night. Today, Eric discovered that perhaps it should be.

His morning training session began promisingly: he and three other students met Marine Grosjean—the very same former world champion who taught Bea yesterday—and boarded a small boat bound for deeper waters beyond Moorea’s shallow protective reef. Under blue skies and calm seas, they began taking turns diving along a vertical rope suspended from a floating buoy. Aside from the minor thrill of spotting distant humpback whales, everything felt routine. The group had settled into a comfortable rhythm: dive, surface, rest while others took their turn.

Then Marine’s urgent shout shattered the tranquility: “Everybody back on the boat! Quickly!” Eric scanned the water for sharks or whales, unsure what danger warranted such alarm. Once aboard, the threat became immediately apparent—the stern was riding dangerously low, waterlogged and heavy, while the bow pointed skyward at an unnatural angle.

Without hesitation, Marine cut the diving buoy loose and gunned the engine toward the shore. Eric and his fellow students scrambled to the front of the boat, both to counterbalance the waterlogged stern and to wave frantically at other vessels—the maritime equivalent of a call for roadside assistance.

Eventually, another boat spotted their distress signals and approached to help, though by then the initial panic had subsided. Despite handling like a drunken whale, their vessel appeared to be holding together—at least for now. Thanks to Marine’s quick thinking and skilled piloting, the group made it safely to shore.

Post-mortem revealed the culprit: a failed bilge pump had allowed the boat to flood during the previous day’s storm, with the problem worsening as they ventured into open water. After unloading gear and bailing out the flooded compartments, the fix proved surprisingly simple.

While the freediving session ended prematurely, the unexpected maritime adventure certainly made for a memorable day. Thankfully, everyone emerged unscathed. And somewhere out there, a diving buoy continues its solo journey across the Pacific.

Day 7: Redemption Dive

After yesterday’s maritime mishap, you might think Eric would be hesitant to get back on a boat—but you’d be wrong. With the bilge pump repaired and the wayward diving buoy miraculously recovered, spirits were surprisingly high this morning.

Marine, Eric, and another experienced freediving student ventured back into the open ocean for round two of line diving. This time, the boat behaved like a proper vessel rather than a submarine in training. Eric had a great session without any aquatic emergencies, proving that sometimes the best way to get back on the horse is to get back on the boat—even if that boat recently tried to become one with the ocean floor.

Meanwhile, Bea had her own underwater adventures closer to shore. Her freediving classes continued with line diving practice in the calmer waters of the lagoon. While perhaps less dramatic than yesterday’s boating excitement, she made solid progress in her freediving technique.

The day served as a perfect reminder that in freediving, as in life, persistence pays off. Both Eric and Bea emerged from their respective sessions grinning and exhausted—the kind of tired satisfaction that comes from pushing personal limits while surrounded by some of the most beautiful water on the planet. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday in paradise.

Day 8: Trading Paradise for… Another Paradise

Today marked our farewell to Moorea. After returning our rental car and taking the ferry back to Tahiti, we made our way to the airport for a 3-hour flight to Rurutu—a fairly remote island that’s part of the Austral archipelago of French Polynesia.

Rurutu represents the antithesis of typical tropical tourism. There are no sprawling resorts, no infinity pools overlooking pristine beaches, and definitely no overpriced cocktails with tiny umbrellas. Instead, this off-the-beaten-path gem offers something increasingly rare: authenticity.

Our Airbnb may not come with a spa, but it comes with something far more valuable: hosts who embody the true spirit of Polynesian hospitality. They picked us up from the tiny local airport, gave us an impromptu tour of their village, and welcomed us into their home as if we were long-lost relatives who finally came to visit.

• Accommodation: Alison’s Airbnb

Days 9-11: Rurutu’s Whale Sanctuary

The past three days delivered some of the most profound animal encounters of our lives.

Each morning began at dawn, joining four other travelers and our guides Chris and Sophie aboard a small boat that would become our portal to the underwater world. The routine was deceptively simple: spot whales in the distance, Chris swims out to assess their mood and comfort level, and if conditions are right, we slip silently into the water and kick toward these massive beings, our hearts pounding with excitement and exertion.

Even after our whale encounters in Moorea, we weren’t prepared for the intimacy and frequency of whale sightings that awaited us in Rurutu’s pristine waters.

We witnessed a mother with her calf, just weeks old, learning the fundamental rhythms of ocean life. The baby stayed close, occasionally surfacing with the awkward grace of something still figuring out how this whole “breathing air” thing works. We heard the haunting, otherworldly song of an adult male broadcasting his presence across miles of ocean—a sound that resonates not just in your ears but vibrates through your entire body.

We came to understand that each whale has a personality. One whale known as “Butterfly” flitted away every time we approached. Another whale—a 4-month-old juvenile, but already bigger than a truck—liked to roll playfully from side to side as if showing off, completely unbothered by our presence.

Some whales seemed genuinely curious about us, approaching us closer than we ever expected, creating moments of mutual recognition that transcended the typical wildlife viewing experience. There were instances when we found ourselves eye-to-eye with these gentle giants, floating motionless in the crystal-clear water as they studied us with what felt like deliberate interest.

By the end of our three days, we understood why Rurutu has earned its reputation among whale enthusiasts. This wasn’t just about swimming with marine mammals—it was about connecting with intelligence and grace that reminded us of our place in the natural world. We left the water each day emotionally (and physically) exhausted in the best possible way, carrying memories that have fundamentally changed how we see our relationship with the ocean and its inhabitants.

• Swimming with whales: Raie Manta Diving

Day 12: Farewell to Paradise (The Second One)

Our hosts in Rurutu, Titaua and Marcel, have truly spoiled us. Every morning began with a breakfast that put most hotel offerings to shame: freshly baked baguettes, warm coconut bread straight from the oven, eggs from their backyard chickens, and unlimited bananas and guavas plucked from their own trees. It’s the kind of hospitality that makes you question why anyone stays in resorts.

Evenings were spent in conversation with Titaua, learning about the intricate differences between Polynesian dialects, her camping adventures in the remote Marquesas archipelago, and traditional recipes passed down through generations. We truly appreciated the genuine cultural exchanges, which enriched our understanding of island life far beyond any guidebook.

Today brought the inevitable goodbye. Titaua presented us with two stunning leis—garlands of fresh flowers that felt like wearable poetry—while her brother-in-law Torea graciously drove us to the tiny airport for our flight back to Tahiti.

Arriving in Papeete felt like stepping into a metropolis after days of village life. We collected our rental car and headed straight to the Museum of Tahiti and Her Islands, which proved to be a masterclass in Pacific history. The exhibits on Polynesian navigation skills and advanced canoe technology were fascinating, perfectly complementing our pre-trip reading of “Sea People”—a book we can’t recommend highly enough for anyone visiting this region.

The museum’s comprehensive coverage of French Polynesia’s five distinct archipelagos provided the perfect academic backdrop to all the stories Titaua had shared with us. This was one of those travel experiences where formal education meets personal connection.

This evening brought us to our final accommodation: a beautifully appointed modern apartment in Papeete with a host whose attention to detail and thoughtfulness set a new standard for hospitality. After days of authentic island living, a bit of urban comfort feels perfectly timed.

• Museum: Museum of Tahiti and Her Islands

• Accommodation: Home exchange

Day 13: A Culinary Tour of Papeete

Our final day in French Polynesia became an unintentional food tour of Papeete—and honestly, we can’t think of a better way to end this incredible journey.

We were particularly drawn to Chinese-Tahitian cuisine, which tells a fascinating story of cultural fusion. When southern Chinese immigrants arrived in the late 1800s and early 1900s, many married locals and began adapting their traditional recipes with local ingredients and tastes. The result is a unique culinary tradition that bridges two worlds.

Our exploration of Papeete Market and surrounding areas yielded delicious discoveries: beignets that are like a cross between Chinese taro dumplings and Tahitian donuts (called firi firi) but with a French name; spring rolls that are heartier and richer than their mainland counterparts, adapted to local taste; and steamed buns filled with fresh local fish instead of traditional pork. Each bite told a story of adaptation and cultural exchange that mirrors the broader history of French Polynesia itself.

We also indulged in the French bakery scene, both today and throughout our trip. From Caramel’In in Moorea to La Marquisienne and Le Fournil Hautbois in Papeete, the quality of quiche, croissants, and fruit tarts here is enough to make us want to explore more French territories.

Between meals, we wandered Papeete’s streets, soaking in daily life. The Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Papeete caught our attention with its colonial architecture and distinctly Polynesian murals depicting the story of Christ—a beautiful example of how global religions adapt to local cultures. Strolling through the waterfront park, we happened upon a Polynesian outrigger canoe race, joining enthusiastic families cheering for their racing relatives.

As we watched those sleek canoes cut through the harbor waters, we found ourselves already discussing the itinerary and dates for a return trip. French Polynesia has that effect—it calls you back.