Actually, that’s not even close to being right. This is normally a small town. But it’s the eve of the Hawaiki Nui Va’a outrigger canoe race, and the place is jumping. There are dozens of roadside stands selling burgers, casse-croute, grilled mahi-mahi and even, um, chow mein on a baguette.
Blood drips from a freshly caught tuna that’s hung from a tree, next to one of a million stands selling pineapples and reddish-green mangoes that would be perfect for a Polynesian Christmas table. Dozens of workers are examining boats; slapping on decals from the dozens of sponsors of the coming race. Teams are registering for the event as pavilions with dozens of red folding chairs are being set up. A small child who’s overcome by the excitement sleeps on her mother’s shoulder, but older kids are doing dives off police boats and private yachts and battered rowboats that drift in the aquamarine lagoon while teens in town parade wearing as little clothing as possible.
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