Tahiti & the Society Islands
Janet and I cruised French Polynesia in 2004 for our 20th anniversary. We saw at least one rainbow every day. The sunsets were, without exception, inspirational — the kind that make you put your phone down because you know the photograph won't do it and you'd rather just watch. We have been recommending this destination ever since, and nothing that has happened in the intervening twenty-five-plus years has changed that recommendation.
Tahiti represents the idealized image of paradise — not the brochure version, the actual one. Pristine sand beaches, palm trees, and water so clear you can see the bottom at sixty feet.
A word about geography before we go further. This region is commonly and incorrectly called "Tahiti and the Cook Islands" — including, I'll admit, in some of our earlier writing. The islands most visitors come to see are the Society Islands, part of French Polynesia. The Cook Islands are a separate nation entirely, roughly 700 miles away. Bora Bora, Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea, Taha'a — these are all Society Islands. Getting the geography right matters when you're planning the trip.
The Islands
French Polynesia comprises 118 islands spread across an ocean territory the size of Western Europe. For most visitors, the itinerary centers on the Society Islands, which deliver the full range of what this part of the world is known for.
The gateway and the capital. Papeete is where you arrive and depart, and the island is larger, more developed, and livelier than what follows — volcanic, dramatic, with waterfalls deep inside a tropical jungle that you don't expect until you're looking at them. There are black-sand beaches, coastal drives, and lagoon scenery that could occupy a full day on its own.
We did most of it on a semi-private tour led by a local who had an unusual approach to the itinerary. He would periodically stop the van, step out, pluck some fruit or herb from a roadside tree, taste it, declare it delicious, and offer everyone a sample. He seemed genuinely delighted by what the island provided. I'm fairly certain the tasting-himself-first routine was partly for our benefit — a way of establishing that what he was handing us was edible and not toxic. It worked. We ate everything he offered.
Before you leave Papeete, find the market — a sprawling combination of farmers market and craft fair with fresh flower arrangements that are among the most extraordinary we've seen anywhere. Worth an hour and a modest amount of luggage space on the way home.
Americans call it Moorea, but more properly it's Mo'orea — from the Tahitian mo'o (lizard) and re'a (yellow), after a legend in which fishermen found a mythical yellow lizard washed ashore. Viewed across the narrow channel from Papeete, it does look exactly like a green lizard. Green mountains dropping straight into a crystal lagoon, one of the most photogenic islands on earth — and that is a crowded field out here.
The one everyone has seen on a screensaver. The emerald lagoon, the overwater bungalows, the twin volcanic peaks of Mount Otemanu and Mount Pahia — nicknamed Bali Hai by the Americans who settled here after WWII. It earns every bit of its reputation. The Paul Gauguin stays overnight here, anchored in the lagoon. As the ship drifts with the wind and tide, the view of those twin peaks shifts constantly. It is genuinely magical, and it is one of the reasons the overnight matters.
Wild, unspoiled, and lightly touristed — the kind of island that rewards travelers who wander without a plan. One of the things you'll encounter here, if you find your way to the freshwater streams near Faie village, is something you won't see anywhere else: local boys, some of them quite young, wading in and feeding the blue-eyed eels. The eels — puhi tari'a in Tahitian — can reach two meters in length and have been hand-fed by generations of islanders, making them unusually tame. We watched a boy calmly grasp one by the neck and hold it up out of the water, longer than he was tall. I asked our guide whether this was a show for tourists. He assured me it was not — it's a cultural practice rooted in daily life, connected to Polynesian legends that consider the eels sacred. The tradition is one of protection and feeding, not harvest. It is one of the more memorable things we saw on the entire trip.
Our personal favorite, and it isn't close. Yes, the vanilla — the island produces much of French Polynesia's supply and the fragrance is everywhere. But what we remember is the coral garden. Waist-high coral in chest-high water, with enormous colorful clams that will make you rethink your next bowl of chowder, a moray eel Janet was absolutely not expecting to encounter in water that shallow, and more clownfish than we could count. We found Nemo. Lots of Nemos, in fact. Taha'a is one of our favorite travel memories, full stop.
The sacred island — the spiritual center of ancient Polynesian culture and the likely origin point of the great voyaging migrations across the Pacific. Understated and genuinely interesting for travelers who want more than a beach.
How to Get There: The Case for the Paul Gauguin
French Polynesia is expensive on land. Hotels in this region run $500 to $1,200 per night, and that doesn't include food or anything else. In 2004, I made the mistake of ordering a Jack Daniels on the rocks from a hotel bar in Papeete. The bill came to $36. Tip not included. That would have bought a liter and a half back in Maryland. A cheeseburger and fries at Bora Bora's Bloody Mary's, a restaurant popular with celebrities, will set you back $35. A cruise, by comparison, includes your accommodations, all meals, and most beverages — and the per-night cost is a fraction of what a land stay costs.
Not all ships are equal here, and the ship matters more in French Polynesia than almost anywhere else we send clients. The lagoons are shallow, the best anchorages are tight, and the ports that make this destination special are inaccessible to large ships. Which brings us to the Paul Gauguin.
The Paul Gauguin was purpose-built for French Polynesia. Its shallow draft allows access to anchorages and atolls that no mainstream cruise ship can reach. It carries around 330 passengers — small enough to feel intimate, large enough to offer genuine luxury. Now operated by Ponant, the ship received a significant refurbishment in 2021 and has a distinctly French character in its food, wine, and onboard culture.
Paul Gauguin offers six itineraries ranging from 7 to 14 nights. The 7-night sailing visits a different island every day with one overnight stay — in Bora Bora, anchored in the lagoon beneath Mount Otemanu and Mount Pahia. As the ship drifts with the wind and tide overnight, the view of those twin peaks shifts constantly. It is the kind of thing you don't forget. The 8-night itinerary adds an overnight in Moorea. The longer sailings — 10, 11, and 14 nights — reach the Marquesas, the Tuamotus, and the Cook Islands. The actual Cook Islands, this time.
The onboard Polynesian hosts — Les Gauguins and Les Gauguines — are a genuine differentiator. Local residents who live aboard the ship and share their culture through dance, music, and hands-on workshops. This is not a performance. It is a connection to the place that a larger ship simply cannot replicate.
Practical Notes
French Polynesia is about eight hours from Los Angeles — three hours past Hawaii. It is not the longest flight, but the routing options are limited and red-eye departures are common. Build in a night in Papeete before you board. You will be tired on arrival, and the first day of a cruise is not the moment to be running on no sleep.
The Society Islands sail well year-round, with May through October being the dry season and the most popular travel window. January through March brings more rain and humidity but also fewer crowds and lower fares. We have sent clients in both seasons without complaints from either direction.
No visa is required for U.S. citizens visiting French Polynesia. No special immunizations are required. The currency is the CFP franc, though U.S. dollars and credit cards are widely accepted in tourist areas.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime destination for most people. We've been, and we are going again — maybe not until 2030, but we've already started planning. You can bet the Taha'a coral gardens will be on the itinerary. If it's on your list — for a honeymoon, an anniversary, or simply because you've been waiting long enough — call us. We know the ship, we know the itineraries, and we know how to put a trip together that does this place justice.