10 Nights On Board The Society Islands and Tuamotus Cruise

A cruise to French Polynesia’s famed and lesserknown islands reveals both sides of the idyllic Pacific archipelago.

It’s lunchtime in the waterfront village of Tetamanu, on the south side of the remote, UNESCO-classified Fakarava atoll in the Tuamotu Islands of French Polynesia. Around me, my fellow guests from the cruise ship MS Paul Gauguin are finishing plates of fire-cooked reef fish and poisson cru – the cevichestyle fish salad eaten everywhere around here – but I’m not really hungry. In fact, I’m a little fidgety. I want to jump into the water with the sharks.

In plain sight, off the edge of the jetty, dozens of blacktip reef sharks – some measuring more than 1.5 metres in length – are weaving through the water. Almost everyone who comes to French Polynesia swims with these famously docile sharks at some point; the ones around the popular islands of Tahiti and Moorea are practically tame, well-fed and cruise around in water that’s barely waist deep. But these guys look bigger, a bit more bright-eyed and alert, which is how I feel about getting into the water alongside them.

“If you want, you can go,” says one of the Polynesian guides, noticing my excitement. I don’t need to be told twice. I dive into the water, which is easily four or five metres deep, and pull my snorkel mask into place. Suddenly I’m in the thick of it, just me and the sharks. They dart confidently beside and below me and some even swim straight towards my wide eyes, curious, before veering off at the last minute. I’m simultaneously exhilarated and unnerved – these blacktips are more lively than their chilled-out counterparts, though I know that they don’t consider me lunch. This is the wildness I want from an island adventure.

My solo Fakarava shark encounter is one of many unforgettable moments on the 10-night The Society Islands & Tuamotus cruise with French Polynesian experts Paul Gauguin Cruises. The journey begins in the nation’s capital, Papeete, on the island of Tahiti, and takes in big-name stops such as Bora Bora and Moorea before striking out to the remote Tuamotu Islands at the heart of the archipelago, an area where many visitors don’t venture.

The beauty of this trip, I realise as one palm-fringed, aqua-blue day melts into another, is that we can choose what level of “wild” we’re comfortable with at each stop. Despite my shark swim I’m not all about the adrenaline. I love a gentle slice of slowdown, a chance to understand what a destination is about. I find it on the island of Huahine, around 200 kilometres north-west of the main island of Tahiti, one of our earliest stops. With a population of just over 6000, Huahine is not unknown but it’s definitely less visited than many other spots in the archipelago (former United States President Barack Obama explored the isle during a yacht tour with wife Michelle, Bruce Springsteen and Oprah Winfrey in 2017).

I join a small-group 4WD tour led by local guide Joe (“As in G.I. Joe!” he says with a laugh) and we wind along coastal and mountain roads, through the lush foliage, thick with hibiscus and palms. We stop at the village of Fā’ie, where Joe shows us the sacred blue-eyed eels that live in the town’s fresh water. We visit a lagoon where locals have set up fish traps that feed the villagers every day and a marae, a traditional Polynesian ceremonial site. Joe knows everyone, waving to friends and family as they zip by on motorbikes or relax beneath heavily laden mango trees, weaving palm fronds. He hugs people with a traditional Polynesian foreheadtouch greeting. “You know what the people like to do around here?” he asks. “They play cards. They have a siesta. They catch a fish. And they go to sleep. We call it, ‘Haere maru, haere papu’. It means, ‘Go slowly, go easily.’” That’s how our journey with Joe feels as we start to blend into Huahine’s rhythms. Haere maru, haere papu.

Onboard the 330-guest MS Paul Gauguin, life goes pretty slowly and easily, too. Formerly under American stewardship, the vessel was acquired by luxury French brand Ponant in 2019 and has enjoyed a chic makeover, with updated décor that matches the shades of blue outside.

Culturally, the ship operates with a charming and slightly zany blend of French, American and Polynesian language and cuisines: announcements are in a mix of English and French, with the occasional Polynesian “māuruuru” (thank you) or “ia orana” (hello) thrown in. You might eat fresh wahoo fish or mahi-mahi one night (Paul Gauguin sources fish directly from the sea that it sails on, a testament to the pristine condition of the French Polynesian waters) and seared foie gras or southern fried chicken the next.

The ship’s “Gauguins and Gauguines” – Polynesian entertainers and storytellers – bring the culture of the islands directly onto the ship, most notably in regular dance performances. Entertainment is generally low-key; magicians and documentary screenings, maybe some dancing in the La Palette cocktail lounge after dinner. There’s no sense that you have to be anywhere or do anything at any particular time. “My name is Florizel but you can call me Flo, as in ‘go with the flow’,” declares one waiter on the first night and that seems as good a tagline as any for our tropical voyage.

There’s one constant – whether I’m sipping a Mai Tai beside the ship’s pool, cranking up my heart rate with toothy wildlife or letting galaxy-black gems fall through my fingers at a local pearl farm – and that’s the unending masterpiece of the French Polynesian landscape. No camera can adequately capture the Barbie-pink sunsets, the chlorophyll-green of the rainforests, the layered hues of the ocean, from pale-mint reefs to the deepest Prussian depths. We may go slowly and we may go easily on our good ship Paul Gauguin but the beauty of these islands makes my heart beat faster.