I’ve always had a fascination with the South Pacific. Something about the vast Pacific Ocean and its remote islands has always drawn me to that part of the planet. So, when I did my first international solo trip, it was a no-brainer that my itinerary would include a South Pacific destination: the Cook Islands and Aitutaki Atoll.
Located about halfway between New Zealand and Hawaii, the island nation of the Cook Islands includes 15 small islands and atolls spread over more than 700,000 square miles of ocean. To put it into perspective, that’s an area about as large as Western Europe. I spent the first part of my visit on the main island of Rarotonga. But after several days there, I hopped on a small Air Rarotonga plane for the 50-minute flight to Aitutaki Atoll.
(NOTE: The photos in this post are 35mm film scans, with varying degrees of resolution quality)
A Narrow Strip of Land
Atolls are ring-shaped coral reefs that encircle a lagoon. They’re basically what’s left at the surface after an extinct volcanic island subsides into the ocean. People who live on atolls inhabit very narrow stretches of land. These land areas typically have deep ocean on one side and a shallow lagoon in the center.
Having spent much of my journalism career writing about earth science and landforms, I was excited to see an atoll with my own eyes. The thought of being on this tiny strip of land enclosing a lagoon of clear shallow water in the middle of the Pacific Ocean made me giddy.
For my three days on Aitutaki, I hadn’t planned any activities in advance. But it just so happened that the owner of the bungalows where I was staying had a son who did boat tours. He would take guests across the lagoon to an uninhabited paradise called One Foot Island. Sign me up!
A “Three-Hour Tour”
The morning of the tour, the boat captain knocked on my door at about 10:00 am, and we piled into the boat and headed across the lagoon. The group included another crew member and a Canadian couple from the bungalow next to mine. As an aside, I was getting over a rather uncomfortable “reaction” to drinking the local water the previous day. So, I wasn’t exactly in top form, but there was no way I was missing this trip. The captain handed me a can of Cook Islands beer, promising that it would help speed my recovery. I gave him a raised-eyebrow look of skepticism but graciously accepted his gift.
It was a brilliant sunny day, and I was mesmerized by the clear water and the tiny uninhabited islands (called motus) that dotted the lagoon. At that moment, I couldn’t imagine any other place I’d rather be. But about halfway across the lagoon, the boat slowed down and the motor started sputtering. Then it sputtered again. And then it stopped. Completely.
After several failed attempts to start the motor, the guys decided they would wade/swim back to our starting point and bring back another boat. Sounded like a reasonable plan. Leslie (the Canadian woman) and I agreed, comforted by the fact that the water we were “stranded” in was only about three feet deep. We would stay and guard the debilitated boat while the guys went and orchestrated our rescue. Surely, they’d be back in less than an hour (cue moody and scary music here).
Shipwrecked in Aitutaki Lagoon
But an hour went by. Then another hour. And then Leslie and I started to wonder if they were just drinking rum swizzles somewhere. We weren’t sure if we should be concerned or annoyed, and we were getting hungry. But then we looked around at where we were: in the middle of a gorgeous lagoon in the South Pacific! Forget about the guys, let’s enjoy this.
We raided the lunch cooler and had a feast. We drank beer (I enjoyed the Cook Islands Lager much more than I had earlier). And then we got off the boat and walked partway to the closest motu, about a half mile away. Wading in the lagoon was like being in a giant swimming pool with a sandy bottom.
As soon as we were back aboard the boat, we squinted and saw a small dinghy heading towards us in the distance. The captain, his crew mate, and Leslie’s husband were finally back (and they all seemed pretty sober). The dinghy then towed us in our handicapped boat back to the bungalows, and we waited while they replaced the boat’s motor. At about 3:00 pm we were finally headed to our destination, five hours after our original departure time.
When we reached One Foot Island, it was late afternoon and the sun was already starting to set. We had about 15 minutes to snap some photos, and then it was time to leave. I felt disappointed as I watched One Foot Island disappear in the distance while we motored away. I had hoped to do some serious exploring on that idyllic little speck of land in the lagoon.
Perspective
A couple days later when I was back on Rarotonga, I headed to an internet café (yes, that was really a thing) to send family an update. I told them about my Aitutaki Atoll experience, recounting the story in terms of it being a real annoyance. You won’t believe what happened! And I barely even got to see One Foot Island!
Fast forward to after I returned home from my trip. As time passed, my perspective began to change. I realized that whenever I thought about my time in the Cook Islands, the lagoon experience was the most memorable part of the entire trip. When someone would ask me about Aitutaki Atoll, that’s the first story I told them. And every time I looked at the photos I took from the boat, a big part of me just wanted to be back there in the middle of that lagoon. Gorging on potato salad, drinking Cook Islands Lager, and lying on the boat deck surrounded by nothing but turquoise clear water.
I’ll be the first to admit that I like to have my trips planned out. I don’t typically just wing it and hope for the best; I’m just not wired that way. But sometimes we can get too attached to our plans and miss the spontaneous experiences that really define our journeys. I now make a conscious effort when I travel to allow for some “play it by ear” time. And I remind myself not to get all flustered if something doesn’t go according to schedule.
No, I didn’t get to spend much time on One Foot Island. And the lagoon tour wasn’t exactly what I had envisioned. But if I could do it over again, would I choose to have everything go as planned? A brochure-perfect excursion? Not a chance.
Images and text ©Laurie J. Schmidt, All Rights Reserved
