Pining for paradise

By BOB MARRIOTT*

Numerous small islands form a colourful mosaic of green, rustic brown and tawny red, edged with incredibly white sand beaches. Different depths of water reflect every shade from emerald to midnight blue as we head for the Ile des Pins, said to be the most beautiful island in the world and only a 20-minute flight from Noumea airport.

The plane banks steeply and I catch a glimpse of low, bush-clad hills before we touch down and taxi in to a terminal that is little more than a large hut.

The Ile des Pins, probably the most far-flung part of what used to be the French colonial empire, almost straddles the Tropic of Capricorn.

In the past it was used as a penal settlement. Today it serves as a haven for the tourist seeking peace and quiet in a superbly beautiful, unspoiled environment.

I saw no other vehicle during a 10-minute drive that took us to Kuto Bay and the hotel. The hotel buildings comprise single-storey native-style huts dotted under the shade of enormous trees. The grounds are awash with hibiscus and frangipani, and rampant bougainvillea trails unchecked, vividly illuminating buildings and trellis-work.

I stroll across the road where, beyond a narrow strip of grass dotted with flame trees and the towering colonial pines that gave the island its name, the curve of beach gleams like a scimitar under a cloudless sky. An incredibly blue sea is edged with creamy surf, gently thumping a lazy rhythm on alabaster white sand constantly caressed by receding ripples and smoother than sugar icing.

Four playful puppies harass a tired-looking bitch as she tries to snooze in the shade. A solitary dugout canoe with outrigger is drawn up on the deserted beach and the road alongside leads down to a stone wall and the crumbling remains of a small building.

A long wooden jetty stretches into the bay for the fast catamaran that arrives twice a week from Noumea. The one or two dwellings are out of sight of the water and there is little else to detract from the island's natural beauty, or disturb the peace.

The Ile des Pins is 18km long and 14km wide, the only real landmark being the 260m Peak N'Ga. The population of about 2000 is mainly Melanesian, plus a handful of Europeans. There is nightly accommodation for about 350 tourists.

The island has changed little since Captain Cook placed it on his charts and gave it its name, but there is no evidence of a landing by Europeans until the missionaries arrived. Protestants, followed by Catholics, came to live on the island in the 1840s.

A dusty deserted road leads down to St Maurice Bay, a secluded and picturesque spot where the first landing was made in 1848. The landing place is marked by a statue surrounded by flowers and a palisade of carved wooden totems, weather-worn to a silvery grey, that stand on a grassy area. They are set against a magnificent backdrop of deep-blue ocean, drifting clouds and a tree-clad island.

A small boat rocks gently on the tide and out at sea two triangular white sails drift across the water. Along the road three or four bungalows bask in the heat, the gardens a treasure trove of avocado and papaya, pineapple and taro. From the widespread branches of a tree a bright, varied collection of fishing floats hang like outsize Christmas decorations. The silence is haunting.

In the nearby tiny village of Vao, the church proudly dominates the green. It dates from 1880, the tall red spire rivalling the lofty pines thrusting from the hillside beyond. On the steps outside, a small party of schoolchildren, neat and bright-eyed, chatter excitedly as they smile into my camera.

The interior is shady, cool and spacious, with an unusual ceiling of inlaid dark hardwoods and the rostrum carved from a solid log. Shafts of sunlight pierce through stained-glass circles.

The Mission house, a fine colonial building, stands adjacent, surrounded by extensive grounds and flame trees brilliant against green pines and slender palms.

Peaceful as they may be today, many of the Pacific islands have a dark side to their history and the Isle of Pines is no exception. It was set up as a penal colony following the Paris rebellion in 1871 and many died here. What the local Kunie tribes-people thought of this imposition is not recorded, but about 3000 prisoners lived on the island. The old cemetery at Ouro holds the remains of many who perished far from their homeland. I wander among the graves but there is no headstone to read, nothing to note. The grass is trimmed and neat and the area is obviously cared for but, with the exception of only two, the identity of those who lie in the graves is unknown.

From the cemetery it is only a short walk to the remains of the old prison, a place of dark secrets and ruined lives. Grass and flax grow on the crumbling walls and in some places trees have grown alongside the old brickwork, roots intruding through the cracks. Rusting iron bars still block the high-set window openings but the doors are long since removed.

Most of the buildings are unsafe to enter, but in one the high-vaulted brick roof is intact. Inside it is easy to conjure up the impression of decay and unhappiness those poor souls must have endured over long years.

In the fresh air, the place lies under a brooding silence bereft even of birdsong, the one sombre blot on a landscape of exquisite beauty.

Today the island is a place to escape the ratrace, a South Seas sedative to smooth out the creases left by the noise and pollution of the modern world.

The best way to get around is on foot or by hiring a bicycle. Charter an outrigger with a skilful native seaman who will take you to explore hidden bays and tiny outer islands. Try snorkelling and swimming in warm, crystal-clear waters where dazzling tropical fish glide through a coral garden.

The Ile des Pins is a fantastic honeymoon destination or perhaps a place to brush up your French and sample a good wine among people who smile a lot simply because that is their nature. A place to read and reflect, or merely to sit in solitary silence and gaze at the sheer beauty of nature at its very, very best.

* Bob Marriott was hosted by the Noumea Tourist Office.


Getting there:

Air New Zealand and Aircalin fly from Auckland to Noumea. Flight takes 2 1/2 hours. Expect to pay around $1300 return. Hotel packages may offer better value. Contact your travel agent.

Air Caledonie flies Noumea to Ile de Pins.

There is also a fast catamaran, which takes two hours, operates weekends and sometimes mid-week.

When to go:

December to April is warm and humid, 22C-31C.

May to November is cooler at 17C-26C. What to take

Lightweight clothing, good walking shoes and a pair of old trainers for use on the coral.

What to see:

The church and mission house at Vao.

The old prison and cemetery at Ouro has real atmosphere.

Things to do:

Swimming in possibly the world's clearest water. Windsurfing. Snorkel or dive the reef. Explore pristine bays in an outrigger canoe with or without a guide. Climb the island's only mountain for spectacular views. Hire a bike or car, the roads are good and virtually empty.

Money:

$1 buys around 55 French Pacific Francs (CFP)

Advisory:

Vao village has several general stores, a market twice a week, a medical centre and a post office.

There are about six hotels and resorts on the island plus a backpackers.

Tipping is strictly forbidden in New Caledonia. Tourist information in Auckland: Ph: (09) 585 0257, fax (09) 585 0259


www.new-caledonia-tourism.nc

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