More to Moorea The French Polynesian island isn’t just an exotic honeymoon destination, writes

Kelly Dennett.

Aspeedboat cuts through a small bay while dark skies threaten its passengers. Heavy rain pelts the boat’s occupants who desperately cover themselves in towels to escape the cold.

‘‘This is crap,’’ an English woman moans. ‘‘It’s my birthday and I wanted to treat myself to a day snorkelling in the sun.’’

As the boat speeds out of Cook’s Bay, north of the isle of Moorea, tour guide Zete throws his hands up to the sky, grins, and tells everyone not to worry. Tahitian Zete has long dreadlocks, and a full belly nourished from years of eating ceviche and fresh fish. He is short and energetic.

Over the drone of the engine and the thunder of the rain, Zete begins a prayer to the rain god, encouraging him to turn off the shower and switch on the sun. As the boat veers a sharp left out into the South Pacific, the pelts turn into spits and the dark clouds move east and away from our destination. The sun resumes its burn on our white shoulders. Zete turns towards us, smiles, and winks.

Welcome to the magic of French Polynesia.

It’s the first of three days I have to explore Moorea. The island is a quick, 16-kilometre ferry ride from Papeete on the country’s main island, Tahiti. Movie producers, honeymooners, and tourists frequently flock to the more well-known of the region’s stunning islands, Bora Bora – Jennifer Aniston and her new husband recently stayed there – and locals remind visitors Hollywood star Marlon Brando once set up camp on a private atoll north of Tahiti.

But French Polynesia’s islands aren’t just for movie stars and newlyweds. Freshly single and desperate to avoid loved-up couples, I’m surprised at how busy Moorea keeps me. The island is small enough to drive around in a day but there’s enough to do that a visit spanning several days at least is ideal.

Today, we’ve joined Albert Tours, which runs a lagoon trip with an itinerary promising snorkelling, fresh seafood, and relaxation. Following the weather’s about-turn, the first activity requires a swallowing of nerves. Sting rays and reef sharks are waiting for us in the lagoon. Having done this a thousand times, Zete jumps into the water with snorkel in mouth, encouraging us to follow.

Zete is feeding the rays with some nosh he’s hidden in his hand. Unperturbed, dozens of others jump in, screaming with delight. I muster five minutes in the water before panicking when I’m swarmed by sharks and stingrays.

It’s a novel experience to surround yourself with long-feared sea creatures and the idea of simply swimming alongside them fills me with terror and awe. A few Australians on the tour start talking about Steve Irwin, so I get out. The scene is so amusing that I’m happy to sit on the tip of the boat and watch.

After a swim we’re whisked to a nearby motu – coral islet, which consists of a dense population of palm trees, a strip of white sand, and a barbecue. I muse how often the most basic things in life are all we need to keep ourselves happy. Food, water, and sun. Oh, and a good book.

There’s no time to read now, though. Zete teaches us how to make poisson cru, a local dish where raw fish is ‘‘cooked’’ by dousing it in nothing but lime juice and salt. He shocks us by throwing half a container of salt in a large bowl with onion, coconut milk, lime juice, and fresh, beautiful tuna. By the time we eat it we can’t taste the salt at all. Magic.

While we languish on the beach, Zete and his crew prepare rice, more ceviche, pan fried fish, and salad for us. The local delicacies here are fish, fish, and more fish. In my five days at Moorea I greedily stomach lobster, prawns, scallops, and ceviche and tartare. On my final evening, I’ll dabble with mahi-mahi, a fish so thick and juicy it reminds me of a chicken fillet.

I’m told fishermen often track mahimahi in their speed boats, simultaneously steering the vessel with one hand and using the other to harpoon the fish. Locals say the chase is so relentless the mahi-mahi often tires and gives up, giving the fisherman a chance to spear it with the barb. Doused in coconut milk and with a side of salad, the meal is generous, though I do imagine the mahi-mahi’s look of resignation as he faces his fate.

With our bellies full, Zete takes us on one last, small trek to a small rockface where an eel has been living so long he recognises Zete and the treat he brings him. Zete’s delight in introducing us to his friend is evident. I love how keen the locals are to show us every bit of their culture. This makes everything an adventure, including our next day’s trip, which promises to be a simple four-wheel-drive excursion to one of The island is small enough to drive around in a day but there’s enough to do that a visit spanning several days at least is ideal. the island’s highest peaks, Belvedere lookout.

The journey is littered with brief stops to inspect papayas and mangos, to visit local gardens and learn how to grow a vanilla pod, and even to sample jams home-made by a local woman – pineapple and vanilla compote anybody?

During my time on Moorea, I learn: how to weave a basket with flax; how