“That’s mana,” he said.
He was mid-soliloquy when the frolicking dolphins appeared.
He smiled in satisfaction, as if the creatures had confirmed the sacred power of this spot.
From left: Local guide Tahiarii Yoram Pariente near his family farm on Raiatea; the reception area at Le Taha‘a resort incorporates a traditional outrigger canoe.The Ingalls
In ancient times, Taputapuatea, Pariente said, “was like the Jerusalem of Polynesia.”
In the 1770s, warriors fromBora-Bora, 34 miles to the northwest, sacked Taputapuatea.
The marae sat in disarray until the 1990s, when archaeologists began reassembling the stones.
From left: The view from Belvedere Lookout on Moorea; a statue at Painapo Beach on Moorea.The Ingalls
In 2017, Taputapuatea was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, and restoration continues to this day.
“But you have to admit that it’s a great story.”
“There was no ceiling,” he said.
From left: A re-created marae, a Polynesian sacred site, on Tahaa island; vanilla from Fare Vanira, on Tahaa.The Ingalls
“The sky is the ceiling.”
Though Taputapuatea had lain ruined for so many years, Pariente believed the site had never lost its mana.
Chefs, artists, farmers, and storytellers are reinvigorating a culture once threatened.
From left: Overwater bungalows at the Sofitel Kia Ora Moorea Beach Resort, in French Polynesia; a view of Bora-Bora island, en route from Tahiti to Raiatea.The Ingalls
They’re wrestling with what it means to be Polynesian.
And they’re reminding visitors that this is more than a one-dimensional postcard paradise dotted with overwater villas.
It’s somebody’s home.
From left: Paintings by the street artist Okuda San Miguel in Papeete; tattoo artist Patu Mamatui outside his studio in Papeete’s Chinatown.The Ingalls
There was that word again:mana.Everywhere I went in French Polynesia, people kept mentioning mana.
Watch for it, they said.
But what was it?
From left: Chef Maheata Banner at her Papeete restaurant, Black Garden; artists Seth Globepainter and Hell Ton John collaborated on this mural in Papeete.The Ingalls
“It’s difficult to explain,” they said.
Their attempts to define mana were always as opaque as the waters surrounding the islands are clear.
Yet their emphasis represented something important: the revival of Polynesian customs after centuries of colonial-era repression.
From left: The entrance to the Brando’s restaurant, Les Mutinés; a coconut crab on Tetiaroa atoll.The Ingalls
Today, the old ways are returning in new forms.
Chefs, artists, farmers, and storytellers are reinvigorating a culture once threatened by dilution, even erasure.
They’re wrestling with what it means to be Polynesian.
From left: Heiana Terooatea, the head cook at the Pura Vida food truck on Moorea; poisson cru—fish marinated in citrus and coconut milk—from Pura Vida.The Ingalls
And they’re reminding visitors that this is more than a one-dimensional postcard paradise dotted with overwater villas.
It’s somebody’s home.
Still, where would I find mana?
From left: Paul Tevaearai, a bartender at the Brando; swimming in the South Pacific off the Brando.The Ingalls
They’d just shrug and say, “You’ll know it when you feel it.”
Until A.D. 300, no humans lived on these islands.
“On a cloudy day, forget about the stars.
Fare Natura ecomuseum on Moorea.The Ingalls
It’s all part of the database.”
These days, the database is rarely passed down.
Pariente wasn’t reared with it.
“Not looking, but watchingreally watching.
Then comes the exploring.”
In the 1930s, French agronomists introduced the fast-growing legume because it enriches the soil.
“The idea was to make superfood soil for farming,” Pariente said.
“But it took over.”
“Marawood is really good for making canoes,” Pariente added.
“But the trees grow slowly.
You plant them not for your children but for your great-great-great grandchildren.”
Others are less traditional.
On his left hand, a compass is set amid stones “because stone is for eternity.”
“When you see this, how many generations have you seen?
My grandparents' parents.”
But the early European arrivals deemed the art form barbaric and sought to discourage it.
Most of those older generations had no tattoos.
English missionaries, seeing the practice as heathen, tried moral suasion.
“They tried to erase our ancestors, but the gods found a way.”
Other traditions have not fared so well.
She is one of the last practitioners oftifaifai,a Polynesian quilting technique.Tifaifaiis itself a hybrid.
The missionary ladies' discarded dresses were quilted into the firsttifaifaiearly upcycling.
Polynesian women introduced Indigenous motifsturtles, stars, flowersand interpreted the missionaries' Bible stories in their quilts.
Biret herself ranges widely for inspiration.
She showed me several pieces based on Paul Gauguin’s paintingsa reclamation of his depictions of Tahitian women.
Though some stores in Papeete stock lovely quilts that resembletifaifai,most are machine-made, often overseas.
“Tifaifaiis not just fabric that you sew quickly.
Each one has its own story.
You have to have heart when you make it,” Biret said with a sigh.
Biret’s Gauguin-inspiredtifaifaicame to mind later that day back in Papeete, where I met the artist Yiling Changues.
Changues, who works primarily in pen and ink, lived in Paris for a decade.
“I was confronted with how people see us as islanders.
“I want to challenge that.”
Changues’s drawings often recontextualize Polynesian women, reinstalling them in their natural environments.
She positions their bodies behind large philodendron leaves or veils them with the sea.
“Nature is part of us.
There was surette, or Tahitian gooseberry, which resembles a tiny yellow pumpkin.
“Great for making jam,” he said.
There were grandmapes, the 60-foot-tall Tahitian chestnut trees that stand along the road like sentinels.
Chave knew none of this when he became a tour company driver in 2007.
He was hired for his near-fluent Englishvisits to family in Utah had given him a vaguely American accent.
Within weeks, he grew bored with the handful of stories he’d been taught during training.
He started studyingbotany, archaeology, history.
We’re French citizens.
But that’s not really our history.
I realized how much we had lost our identity as Polynesians.
I had to teach myself.”
Eight years ago, at age 37, Chave got his first tattoo.
He said his father was dismayed, but he wanted to mark his fidelity to his ancestors.
His most meaningful tattoo is a shark, the symbol of the clan of Teva.
But another, a great-grandmother, was a translator for Queen Pomare.
“This is who we are,” he said.
“This is who I am.”
Most French Polynesians I met, all of mixed heritage, have little quibble with cultural intermingling.
They recognize the islands as a modern melange.
“The Tahitian who put this together must have been drunk or stoned or both,” Hall said.
Chef Nahema Charles grows all of her basil and chili peppers, as well as tomatoes.
What she can’t grow, she sources from Moorea farmers.
It was pumpkin season, so chunks of fried pumpkin went into the poke bowl with the tuna.
Moorea is famed for its pineapples, so she adds it to the fish tacos.
“I went to his fridge, and there was literally nothing in there.
I went to him and said, ‘Do you need some money?'”
His grandfather looked at him and said, “I’ve got plenty of food.”
“But your fridge is empty.”
“I have everything I need right here.”
The concept of royalty was another colonial-era import.
He secured a supply of something other chiefs didn’t have: guns.
Soon afterward, he united several islands under his rule and declared himself King Pomare I. Brando’s family still holds the lease for Tetiaroa.
Only the westernmost islet, Onetahi, is inhabited.
It’s home to a luxurious resort called the Brando, which opened in 2014.
It also acts as a nature preserve and scientific lab.
Strangely, I didn’t feel wet or cold.
I didn’t want to be inside.
I felt alive, invigorated, utterly at peace.
The Tetiaroa Society also conducts the nature tours offered to the Brando’s guests.
One blustery morning, I boarded a boat with a Tetiaroa Society guide, Kealoha Wilkes.
We headed for Rimatuu, the islet where Williams had built a coconut plantation.
“So many of us don’t even know what we have here,” he said.
“Don’t we all want to find some kind of deeper meaning?
To understand where we fit?”
It was raining by the time we got back to our boat.
As the wind rose, so did the sea.
“Rain is a blessing!”
Wilkes shouted over the thwack of the boat against the water.
The line between sea and sky blurred.
Like a lightning bolt, it hit me: This was mana.
Le Sully: The bistro menu celebrates Polynesian ingredientsespecially the local seafood.Entrees $28$40.
A highlight: fries made from breadfruit.689-87-21-31-06; Entrees $13$20.
Chave leads excursions around the island.
Fare Vanira: Nearly 80 percent of French Polynesia’s famous vanilla is grown on Tahaa.
Learn about traditional cultivation methods at this small organic farm run by Joe C K Y.689-89-75-10-85.
Pura Vida Moorea: Chef Nahema Charles cooks whatever Moorea’s farmers and fishermen have to offer.
The kombucha, made in house with local honey, is outstanding.689-87-74-55-76.
Heimata Hall: Hall, the island’s best culinary guide, emphasizes local eateries and food trucks.
Even the smallest of its villas sprawls over more than 1,000 square feet.
Villas from $3,725.
