A Transpacific Cruise from Vancouver to Auckland, part 2.

A 4-week peregrination from Canada to New Zealand.

Part 2: Honolulu to Auckland

This is the second part of a 10,000 miles, month-long sea trip between Vancouver, Canada and Auckland, New Zealand on Princess Cruises. In a previous entry, I wrote about the first part of this voyage, from Vancouver to Honolulu. You can read it here.

After a nice day driving around Oahu, it was time to get back on the boat. This transpacific trip felt more and more exciting as the days went by. The first week, between Vancouver and Los Angeles felt like a dress rehearsal for the true ocean crossing, which would happen from LA. The second week was spent cruising towards Hawaii, first to Hilo on the Big Island, and then to Honolulu, on Oahu. I loved that 5-day crossing and the two days at port, but I already knew these destinations.

You couldn’t see land, but you also knew it wasn’t close to you at all.

 Thus, the third leg of the trip seemed to be the one I was waiting for the most: a 6-day non-stop sailing towards Tahiti, French Polynesia. The ship would cover parts of the globe I had never been to, pass by some very remote islands and end in one of the most exotic places of the world. Say “Tahiti” to anyone, watch their reaction, and you’ll understand the appeal of the destination. It’s a far away paradise of calm, cerulean waters and white sand, lush hills and fertile soil, full of culture and history.

I was ready to fall in love with Tahiti even before reaching the island.

By now, I was pretty well acquainted with the Grand Princess. After all, the Honolulu stop marked the midpoint of the cruise for me, and I had my routine down to an art. Reading books, writing my journal, watching TV shows on my computer, going to the gym, enjoying the ship’s entertainment, watching time go by on the promenade deck… all of that took a lot of time, and I didn’t really see the six days at sea pass by. 

At that point in my cruising life, I only had experienced Princess twice (on this trip and on an Alaska cruise earlier in the year) and Holland America once, on a New England to Montreal cruise. I would cruise much more over the next few years, on Princess again, on but also Celebrity, MSC and Virgin Voyages, the latter being on a two-week transatlantic trip that was probably my best cruise, and that I wrote about here. All this to say I didn’t have a lot of benchmarks to compare my Princess cruise with.

 Once the sun started to rise, I could finally see the outline of Tahiti Nui.

There is something quite liberating about not counting pros and cons, about not comparing the buffet food or quality of service to other lines. You just accept everything as it is. It was a good lesson for me, as a not-so-experienced cruiser, to enjoy every single thing as if it were the best, because I didn’t know any better. This isn’t a criticism of Princess Cruises, by the way. I thoroughly enjoyed traveling with them. There was a sense of quiet happiness, of not trying too hard, that I appreciated very much. After all, who really cares about pretending in the middle of nowhere?

The sun was glowing over the -strangely- quiet Pacific waters as we sailed south to Papeete, Tahiti’s main city. I could have been on any vessel and felt as exhilarated to be there. You can be sailing in the Bahamas and only see water around you, making you feel isolated. However, you know solid ground isn’t really far. It was quite something else in the Pacific ocean. You couldn’t see land, but you also knew it wasn’t close to you at all.

We weren’t close to Point Nemo (the Oceanic Point of inaccessibility, the place on planet Earth that is furthest away from land). That’s located further south in the Pacific. We weren’t even alone in the middle of the ocean (a couple of cruise ships were sailing ten to fifteen miles away from us in the same direction). It still felt eerily quiet and faraway.

The closest inhabited island passed during our six-day crossing from Hawaii to Tahiti would Christmas Island, Kiribati. We got closer to several uninhabited, Kiribati-owned atolls, like Caroline island, but that’s about it. As this website makes it clear, I am fascinated by hard to reach places and the islands of the Southern Pacific perfectly fit that bill. It was a bit frustrating to be so tantalizing close to Kiribati and not be able to stop there. I will have to plan a trip back there soon.

I was ready to fall in love with Tahiti even before reaching the island.

 One of the most memorable moments of my travels happened the morning of our arrival into Tahihi. I knew we would be in port around 8am, so I woke up extremely early to be able to enjoy the sunrise over the islands of French Polynesia. The sun wasn’t even up when I got to the bridge, by the fitness center, at the ship’s bow (we were technically on the bridge’s roof, and got the same view as the captain, sans the navigation instruments, of course). I immediately noticed a dark mass, slightly to the right of the boat, around 10 miles from us. It turned out to be Tahiti’s sister island, Moorea, which was slightly closer to us at this point. Once the sun started to rise, I could finally see the outline of Tahiti Nui (the biggest of the two ancient volcanic cones that make Tahiti) appear in the distance.

It's hard to explain how I felt. I think something clicked in me that brought me back to my youth, to looking up these famous French explorers whose names adorned city streets in my neighborhood (I speak extensively about this in part 1 of this journey). How did they feel when they first set sight on land, after days of sailing? How did they feel when they saw the height of Tahiti Nui’s mountains against the sun? For me, there was a sense of achievement (“We are finally here! We made it across the ocean!”) as well as a sense of excitement that the next two days in port would bring.

For French people, Tahiti is a very special place, an unspoiled exotic paradise where the presence of French culture means you can speak French, buy typical French food in the same supermarkets you’d find in metropolitan France, yet enjoy Polynesian customs and some of the most beautiful beaches on the planet. Its distance from mainland France makes Tahiti a destination few French people could ever dream of getting to. It’s almost ten thousand miles as the crow flies between Paris and Papeete, and the fastest flights take almost twenty-two hours, with one stop, between the two cities.

It's no surprise a lot of French travelers to Tahiti are honeymooners. French Polynesia is one of these bucket list dream destinations you probably won’t be able to visit twice, so it takes a special occasion to make it happen.

 It felt like the exact version of Polynesian paradise you see in travel brochures.

Tahiti isn’t just a destination for French people, historical and cultural ties notwithstanding. French and American tourists are tied and each represent around 35% of visitors in the territory according to the Institut de la Statistique de la Polynésie Francaise. US airlines have recently increased their flying to Tahiti’s international airport (PPT) to help American travelers reach the region.

The Grand Princess would be docked two full days in Papeete. We were one of the first cruise ships to be welcomed back in port since the beginning of the Covid pandemic. The Papeete stop was initially going to be just one day, but our stop in Pago Pago, American Samoa was canceled and here we were.

It was actually a blessing in disguise, as I could plan to hit two islands in one stop. I would definitely check out Tahiti, but I decided to spend my first day on the island of Moorea. Moorea is the closest island to Tahiti, and is separated from Tahiti Nui by a 15-mile channel, which doesn’t seem like much when you look at it from the top decks of the Grand Princess. I was surprised, however, to learn this channel is about 5,000 feet deep. It actually provides protection from tsunamis for Papeete, as the depth would reduce the strength of any rogue wave coming towards the island’s main town.

I picked a ride with Aremiti, one of the two ferry companies linking Papeete to Vai’are, and realized I wasn’t the only Princess cruiser who had the same idea. I had actually booked my ticket online, and only needed to show ID to get on. The crossing lasted about 30 minutes. We left the busy and grand port of Papeete and arrived in a quite cove that felt miles away from the hustle and bustle of the “big” city.

 I was above Papeete and could see the whole city at my feet.

Moorea is almost entirely surrounded by a reef with very shallow waters that reach far into the ocean. It immediately felt like the exact version of Polynesian paradise you see advertised in countless travel brochures. It’s hard to explain how blue the water was, and how many new hues of blue I had never seen before appeared before my eyes.

While I wasn’t the only tourist on the island, I had definitely chosen a mode of transportation that would allow me to explore at my own pace, away from the tourist buses carrying some of my fellow cruisers. I had found Electric Motors Moorea in a French guide, and decided to rent an e-bike with them, to ride around the island in a few hours. I walked about 20 minutes from the ferry pier to a small building that turned out to be a storage unit facility, out of which two very cordial metropolitan French people got out to fix me up with one of their bikes.

Riding a bike was such a nice way to discover the island. Most of the way was fairly flat, but I was happy to be helped by the electric motor a few times. I could check out the island’s scenery as I saw fit, stop whenever I felt like it and feel the warm air on my face as I was pedaling.

 The most scenic parts of the island are located on its north shore, which is also where Moorea’s most famous hotel, the Sofitel Kia Ora, is located. This was one of the first hotels with overwater bungalows, and it certainly created a trend. I was able to admire it from afar, and snap a few photos of its incredible location.

It took me about 5 hours to bike around the island, and almost 40 mile adventure. I stopped at a Champion supermarket, a metropolitan French staple, and bought things I hadn’t’ been able to buy in the US for such a long time (notably, Orangina Zero, one of my favorite sodas). There was a strange pleasure in enjoying simple, French supermarket food 10,000 miles away from Paris. I don’t think Orangina Zero had ever tasted this good.

 The next milestone on our itinerary was an invisible line across the sea.

I was pretty spent after my day riding around Moorea, so once the Aremiti ferry dropped me back in Papeete, I went back to the boat and called it an early night.

The day after was a Sunday and I decided to walk around town. While the biggest town in French Polynesia, with around 25,000 inhabitants, Papeete feels rather small and quaint. The only hint of the town’s strategic role within France are the sheer amount of administrative buildings dotting downtown, one of them being the stunning Presidential Palace, housing French Polynesia’s president since 2000. Initially military barracks in colonial times, the building has been restored and modernized and is a beautiful example of preserved colonial architecture on the island (note: you can only visit it a few days a year, but you get a nice view on its façade from avenue Pouvanaa a Oopa).

 After lunch, I decided to hike, even if the Polynesian sun was a little too hot for comfort. There aren’t many hikes available within Papeete proper, but one, leading to the Mission Cross, promised a nice panorama over the city, and I decided to try it. After about 30 mn of walking on paved streets, the trail suddenly goes up in elevation and becomes a dirt road. That wasn’t the easiest part, but the ending made it worth it. I was above Papeete and could see the whole city at my feet. There were only a handful of locals on the trail, and no cruise passenger in sight.

I came back to the port with a few hours before we set sail again. My short time in French Polynesia was incredible, and made me want to come back, spend more time and explore more islands.

The next milestone on our itinerary wasn’t an island, but rather an invisible line across the sea. On our way to Fiji, we would cross the international date line. While thousands of people pass it by plane on a daily basis without anyone making a big deal out of it, crossing it by boat was a whole different affair. We were told there would be a celebration party on the top deck and we would get an official princess Cruises certificate, no less.

The international date line was established in 1884, and passes through the mid-Pacific Ocean as a north-south line on the planet. It is located halfway around the world from the Greenwich Meridian in England, itself representing the 0-degree longitude line. The international date line works as a “line of demarcation” that separates two consecutive calendar dates. Crossing the line towards the west, it’s one day later. Crossing the line towards the east, and you have moved back in time by a day.

To simplify the ship’s schedule, we were told we wouldn’t actually respect the line’s schedule (ships are free to set their own time as long as they are in international waters). Instead of setting our watches and calendars one day forward at the time of the line crossing, we would do this overnight. We would fall asleep on a Wednesday night and wake up the next day, as a Friday. In other worlds, I never lived Thursday, October 20, 2022.

We arrived in Fiji 5 days after leaving Papeete (or six days if you count that Thursday we missed). Like a lot of people, I had the same image of Fiji in my head as the one of Tahiti: endless cerulean waters, white powdery sand and lush vegetation. That cliché fell short as we got into port. Suva, our stop, is the nation’s capital. Located on the south-eastern coast of Viti Levu, it is far away from the picturesque northern side where most tourists go enjoy Fiji’s gorgeous beaches. It didn’t help that it was raining. While Papeete was a big town (relatively speaking) with a big harbor, it still felt like we were on an idyllic paradise island when we got there. In Suva, the port area felt much bigger, and the surrounding area, the city’s proper downtown, didn’t have the cachet of French Polynesia’s capital.

I got to see a side of the country not many tourists pay a visit to.

We had about 8 hours in port so I first decided to walk along the water and got to the municipal market, super busy at this hour, then to Ratu Sukuna park before walking alongside Suva’s Government building, a beautiful Art Deco compound that houses the Fiji’s high court, parliament and prime minister residence. It was designed Britain’s Chief Colonial Architect, Walter Frederick Hedges, who was also responsible other major colonial buildings in Asia. From 1939 until 1970, when Fiji gained independence, the building served as the seat of the British colonial administration. After independence, it became Fiji’s parliament, until 1987, when a coup disrupted Fiji’s political life. Only in 2014 did the building came to house the 50-member national parliament again. It’s a stunning work of architecture, and its grey stone reminded me a bit of Rockefeller Center in New York City, had it been built more horizontally and within lush natural surroundings.

Right next to Fiji’s Government building sits Albert Park, a vast expanse of open field used as sporting ground (whether it’s rugby or cricket you’re into, Albert Park is the place to go), and just beyond it, behind a high wall, was my favorite place of all Suva, Thurston Gardens. Originally Suva’s Botanical gardens, they were built on the original site of the then-village of Suva which was destroyed in 1843 by a fire. The gardens are a beautiful mix of palm trees and local flora among which you’ll hundreds of wild bats – from afar, obviously, but it’s quite a sight nonetheless.

The Fiji museum abuts the gardens, but I wanted to check out an ecological reserve on the outskirts of town in the afternoon the Colo-I-Suva Forest Park, so I skipped it, took a local cab… and ended up with a few foreign tourists in front of a guard explaining that because of the amount of rain over the past few days, the park would stay closed for safety reasons. Bummer.

I took a bus back down to Suva, and walked around downtown instead. It was actually a very nice idea. Suva’s commercial area is a mix of shiny, modern buildings, erected with little sense of urban planning among older, more traditional structures, that form a messy maze of  small streets and big, car-saturated avenues. I enjoyed passing by it, checked out a few of the numerous department stores, curiously almost empty of tourist souvenirs, before heading back to the boat.

The Fiji I saw that day wasn’t your typical postcard-Fiji, but I am glad I got to see a side of the country not many tourists pay a visit to. As we left Suva’s harbor, a Holland America cruise ship came along and I watched it get further as we sailed towards the ocean, on our way to New-Zealand.

The last part of the trip really felt like the end for me: after sailing in tropical waters with 80-degree weather for so long, the trip south towards Auckland reminded me early Spring in New-Zealand can actually be as chilly as early Fall in British Colombia. My last morning on the Grand Princess saw me wear a down jacket and a scarf.

Arriving in any new port is a source of excitement for me. The city in front of you is full of possibilities, of things to discover, of places to check out. It always open a new chapter in my trips. Auckland did feel like this, and then some. It was the first big city within our sight since Honolulu, and from afar, Downtown Auckland high-rises, although small, felt like towering giants, with the famous Sky Tower eclipsing them all.

This four-week cruise was an extraordinary experience, one that confirmed my taste for expedition voyages that cover ground less traveled. It was bittersweet to leave my fellow cruisers who would stay on board for another week. I visited Devonport, on the other side of the harbor in the afternoon, and saw the Grand Princess slowly glide away from the city, en route to Tauranga, and a part of me wished I had stayed on. These 10,000 miles at sea were at the same time so relaxing and so exhilarating that I started planning another of these long cruises almost as soon as I got off the boat: I would sail from Miami to Barcelona on a two-week voyage in April 2023. You can read about it here.

Images: Auckland at sunset from Mount Victoria in Devonport, a Pacific sunset, the outline of Tahiti Nui from the Grand Princess upon arrival, the Sofitel Moorea overwater bungalows and its incredible lagoon, Mont Rotui from the Belvedere Lookout in Moorea, the International Date Line Crossing Ceremony on the Grand Princess, a view of the Port of Suva upon arrival, the Suva flower market, Suva’s Government building, Auckland harbor from the Grand Princess upon arrival.

All images are mine.