Polynésie Française : voyage au cœur de Tahiti et des îles oubliées – Documentaire Découverte – GD

Polynésie Française : voyage au cœur de Tahiti et des îles oubliées – Documentaire Découverte – GD

At the very end of the Taharapu peninsula,
pontoons on stilts indicate to travelers that,
contrary to appearances, this remote part of Tahiti is
not completely deserted. As an extension of the few dwellings
lost in the vegetation, these quays allow local people
to dock with their boats, their only link with the rest of the world. Is it the lack of roads or the lush nature? A strange
and peculiar atmosphere emanates from this coast. In the rainy season, it’s true
that one must feel lonely there. In this month of May, with more
light, there is no feeling of boredom. This
part of Tahiti would be the preferred territory of those we call
nature-men, a place where one could live
joyfully in self-sufficiency and harmony. Towards the west,
on the road to Grande-Île, a little further towards the passes,
the ocean suddenly becomes noisier. Here, there is a site that makes
surfers from all over the world dream. This is Tiopo. Tiopo, and his wave of legends. One of the highest,
longest and most difficult waves on the planet. In Tiopo, as everywhere around Tahiti,
there is neither low tide nor high tide. At the foot of the mountains,
it is the very short and very steep plateau which, suddenly, raises the ocean swell. A gust of wind thousands
of kilometers away in the Pacific, and all the surfers
in the region are breaking the Tiopo. But when the wave falls,
the curious and courageous surfer can turn back to the mountains and tell himself
that he wouldn’t be stupid one day to go and rub shoulders with the elements. Inland, it would be a
bad move. Often hidden in the clouds, much more than watered by torrential rains, here are the peaks
of the Taillerapeau peninsula. Geological tightness. Both due to their slope and vegetation,
these monoliths, born from volcanic activity, are almost inaccessible. Even animal species
seem to be becoming rare there. At the foot of this moon,
Polynesian version, we find the seaside,
civilization and finally, large flat and passable spaces
where man can resume normal activities: agriculture and livestock. This is Little Normandy. Normandy has more than 17,000
kilometers of Lisieux and 40 years. It is the granary of Polynesia. Lush green grass,
proximity to the sea, nothing distinguishes this Normandy
from the real thing, except the cows, which flee the burning sun
and prefer to ruminate in the shade. United by an ism, Tahiti has two islands: the Taierapou peninsula,
the wilder one that stretches away into the distance,
and Tahitienoui, the large island of Tahiti, the most populated island in
all of French Polynesia. A busy coastal road
runs the length of the island. You can find your way around by the names of the villages,
but also thanks to the famous Pécat, the kilometer points numbered
from 0 to 60 from west to east. The smaller the Pécat number,
the denser the population. Near Pécat 15,
we are almost in town, in the suburbs of Pépéeté, the capital. 260,000 inhabitants populate Polynesia
and three quarters of them live here. White sand beaches
now replace black sand beaches. And a few dozen meters from the lagoon,
luxury residences make you forget the houses on stilts of the peninsula. Certainly the subsidies
from the metropolis have something to do with it. Certainly also that the
nuclear tests of the French Army like Ururoa have brought more
to the local economy than to the health of the population. To
find some air and space, to escape this great urban density,
there is also an alternative in Tahiti: gain some height. As the crow flies, a
few minutes from the sea, there is the diadem, 13,121 meters above sea level. In the northwest of the island
there is Mount Oroena, 2,241 meters, the highest mountain in French Polynesia. To return from these Polynesian Alps,
simply follow the path of the valleys. The descent is dizzying and at the bottom
of the slope, we find Papé and Thé. Pk-10 is the Marina Taïna, where Jolies Hautes stop over. Beijing 5, its lighthouses and its
international airport. Upon arrival, passengers from
Europe are only interested in the lagoon, and understandably so. But how many people imagine that the
landing strip runs alongside one of the largest shanty towns in Polynesia? Leaving the port of Papeté, we find a sailboat leaving for the Fiji Islands,
one of those large privately owned ships which, discreetly,
frequents Polynesian waters throughout the year. This afternoon, it’s the famous Endeavour,
which shows us the route to follow to reach Tahiti’s sister island,
the island of Moréa, just 17 kilometers away. In Moréa, we are still in the
Windward Islands, but the impression of a change of scenery remains persistent each time. Valleys, but also long bays,
those of Cooke and Opunohu, which take us up into the heights,
above the pineapple fields, towards the mountains. The Morea Mountains are
like the emblem of a country. This peak also appears on the back of the coins
of the local currency, the Pacific franc. There is also Percée Mountain,
which the valiant mountaineers reach after very long
and hot hours of walking. Good luck all the same. On
weekends, that is to say here from Friday midday,
many inhabitants of Papet-Été leave the town, its noise and constraints,
to go to the Moréa lagoon. It’s true that in Morea, you can
feel like you’re on vacation all year round. Cruise passengers are not mistaken. Not a week goes by without a cruise ship
dropping anchor near Papetoay. And like everywhere in Polynesia,
lots of hotels. Too much. The Club Méditerranée in Moréa,
closed for years, is in ruins. It’s a little after 6:00 p.m. At the very end of the island of Tahiti,
the great lighthouse at Pointe Vénus still hasn’t lit its lantern. On the beach, two young Tahitians play
football, perhaps dreaming of a destiny worthy of a va-et-rua,
one of the rare professional Polynesian players in the French championship. By the way, France, the metropolis. And suddenly,
she seems immensely far away, light years away from the nonchalance
of these two women and these children. Training is over for the piéroguiers, whose dream is to become champions of Polynesia. Saturday evening, the port of Pépé-Été. The docks will slowly fill up near
the trailers, where you can eat until late at night. Especially if there is
a show on Place Vailletée. For many Polynesians,
Pépé-Été is a mirage, an abstraction. All these streets, all these boulevards, all these roads, all these people. The shock is too brutal. Some cannot resist
and turn back. Night has already fallen on Tahiti. Only the mountains of Moorea
can be seen in the sunset. The south wind blows on the coconut trees
ruffled by the gusts. It’s 6:00 in the morning,
the day is barely breaking. Mist and drizzle,
an infinite variety of grays, blacks, facarava, in an All Saints’ Day sky. We could see ourselves in Northern Europe. But here too,
the weather can change very quickly. The tropical depression has passed. This Polynesia is becoming more in line
with the idea that we had of it. Though. This immensity, these dots
of land lost in the ocean are disconcerting. And fresh perhaps. The Touamoutou or the world of atoles,
84 low islands, circles and crowns of coral
in the heart of the Pacific, north of Tahiti. If an island can be defined as land surrounded by water, an atoll, paradoxically,
would be water surrounded by land. Otu Amutu, the largest of all
the atoles, is Ranguiroa. Infinite variety of blues and greens. It is noon, the sun is at its zenith. 28 degrees and a light breeze
blows across the blue lagoon. A few walkers come to greet
a school of sharks, apparently unperturbed by the sea temperature. In about thirty centimeters of water,
it can reach 40 degrees and deprive the animal fauna of oxygen,
which then prefers to swim in the greatest depths of the lagoon, where it is all blue. An atoll is like a long line that
stretches out at water level along the ocean. Ranguiroa, the Great Sky,
is a rectangle about 80 kilometers long and 30 at its
widest point. The atoll is a closed world,
except near the passes, where the lagoon and the ocean communicate. This breach opened in the
coral reef is the entry and exit point for all aquatic fauna. Twice a day, with the marshes,
the lagoon empties, then fills. It is also around these passes
that man, generally, has established himself. In Ranguiroa, the most populated atoll
of the T’ouamoutous archipelago, there are two main passes
and therefore two villages: Avatorou and Tiputa. A 12 km long road connects them,
the only one on the atoll. Middle schools and high schools educate children who come from islands that are sometimes so far away that they only return home
a few times a year. On
the main street of Avatorou, a flag recalls the desire
for emancipation of a part of the population of French Polynesia. Blue and white, the colors
of the independence movement. Is it a symbol
of attachment to the Republic? Vines are cultivated and
wine is produced in Ranguiroa. This afternoon is the grape harvest. In this scuba diving mecca,
even football has its fans. The two main villages are at odds all
year round on the land which is
heavily watered by tropical depressions. So goes life between the two passes. We leave Ranguiroa
and therefore civilization for this elusive world of the atoles. Impression of going
from one emptiness to another. Some say that there is nothing to see
on an atole, that boredom and isolation make life difficult. Probably not so much,
since very few of these islands have been deserted by the inhabitants,
despite the risks of cyclones. The last cyclone, Otuamutu, was in
1983, when here in Arutoa it was swept away by a swamp rat. Since then, there are cyclone shelters in the rebuilt village
. In pearl farms,
more than cyclones, it is the quality and temperature
of the water that is monitored. In the middle of the ocean,
living almost self-sufficiently, Polynesians dive all day long. And when harvest time comes,
it’s even more work and stress in the wooden huts. Even more oysters to open,
Even more big red pearls, the breeders’ buoys
of tiny black pearls. They say here that pearls make you crazy. It drives people crazy because for
the past twenty years it has been generating a lot of money. In Pataki, Kaokura, Niaou. There, 500 inhabitants. Here, a hundred. Elsewhere, a few dozen scattered
across this solitary space where the sea gives everything. There will always be passes where to
help yourself to fish, you just have to throw a line into the water. An illusion then of a Robinson Crusoe life
where one could live on fish and coconut milk, but connected
to ADSL with the rest of the world. After the black pearl and tourism,
the Internet is reaching the Touamoutous and one can possibly feel less alone there. Generators, or better,
solar panels provide the energy. As for fresh water,
the government helps with the purchase of these black cisterns where
rainwater is collected. In this enigmatic and fragile landscape,
an island stands out. Here, there is no alternation
of channels and motorcycles. No infinite varieties of blues
lost in the horizon, but cliffs and a green mass
firmly placed above the ocean. This is Makatea, the third type of island
in Polynesia, because it is neither atoll-shaped nor mountainous. It looks deserted, but it once
had as many as 3,500 inhabitants. Today, they are ten
times less cut off from everything. Difficult to supply with fuel, Makatea is one of the few islands in Polynesia with a solar power plant
to provide electricity to its population. A maintained track leads us
to the center of the island, where
its heart still beat some forty years ago. Phosphate mines. Everyone had their own hole. Men from all over the world
dug to exploit the deposit. Up to several meters deep. Hidden under the vegetation,
there is even still a railway line, the only one in all of French Polynesia. It carried thousands of tons
of phosphate to the port where cargo ships came to dock. A few more years, a
few more million waves, and there will be nothing left of these pontoons. We are moving away from Makatea, which is
decidedly unique in the landscape of the Touamoutou, the islands of the Grand Large. Looking ahead to Fakarava, one wonders how
it is possible to live just on one line. There is indeed a road,
paved in honor of a President of the Republic,
who ultimately never came, but it is only a few kilometers long. Here, to get around,
there are mainly boats. We search in vain for landmarks. We find a sort of tower,
a pyramid built. For what ?
By whom? 5:30 p.m., we have to get home quickly before nightfall. There are persistent legends in Touamoutou,
like those stories of ghosts that appear when the sun sets. We remember that at the beginning of the 20th century,
the Touamoutous were still called the pomoutus. The syllable toi, meaning large, big. The syllable skin,
Something like dark, nocturnal. Despite the efforts of missionaries,
distant beliefs still inhabit these lands. Spirits that would make
the rain and the good weather. As if these islands weren’t
already mysterious enough.

Tuamotu, Rangiroa, Apataki : les atolls secrets du Pacifique. ✋ Pour découvrir plus de documentaires voyages 👉 http://bit.ly/4mHkEDB Abonnez-vous 🙏

00:00 – Taiarapu, la presqu’île sauvage
02:00 – Les surfeurs de Teahupo’o
04:30 – Vie urbaine et plages de Papeete
08:30 – Évasion à Moorea le week-end
13:20 – L’archipel des Tuamotus : Rangiroa
16:40 – Vie insulaire à Apataki et Kaukura
20:00 – L’industrie perlière et les atolls
24:15 – L’île de Makatea et les légendes du grand large

🔹 Un samedi à Tahiti : De la presqu’île de Taiarapu jusqu’à Papeete avec un petit détour par l’île de Moorea, voici un voyage aérien d’est en ouest autour de l’île la plus connue, la plus urbanisée mais pas la moins sauvage de toutes les îles de Polynésie Française : Tahiti.

260 000 habitants peuplent la Polynésie et les trois quarts vivent ici.

Le samedi à Tahiti, l’île vit à un autre rythme. A Tehaupoo, les surfers guettent les vagues et à Moorea, on peut se croire en vacances toute l’année.

🔹 Le monde des atolls : Les Tuamotus en Polynésie, c’est le monde des atolls. 84 îles basses, des cercles et des couronnes de corail au cœur du Pacifique au nord de Tahiti.
Aux Tuamotus – cet archipel qui s’étend sur près de 20 000 km2 – le plus grand de tous les atolls, c’est Rangiroa, qui veut dire le « grand ciel » en Tahitien.

Au-delà de Rangiroa, des îles minuscules peuplées parfois de quelques dizaines d’habitants s’étirent dans l’horizon. Apataki, Kaukura, Niau… : là, 500 habitants, ici une centaine, ailleurs quelques dizaines, éparpillées sur cet espace de solitude où la mer donne tout.

A découvrir sur Terra Nauta
Marquises : les îles les plus isolées de la planète https://youtu.be/vH3WNTOQ0ck
Les révoltés des Australes et les lagons de Bora Bora https://youtu.be/0zvTdsXrCF0

“LES ÎLES PARADISIAQUES VUES DU CIEL”
Épisode 5 et 6
Réalisé par Yannick Charles
Tous droits réservés

#Polynésie #Marquises #DocumentaireVoyage #Pacifique #Iles #Exploration #NatureSauvage #CulturePolynésienne #TerraNauta

#Tahiti #PolynésieFrançaise #Moorea #Tuamotu #Rangiroa #VoyageInsulaire #DocumentaireVoyage #TerraNauta #IlesParadisiaques