We went to one of the pearl shops today. Jan is looking to buy an authentic Tahitian black pearl. I can understand the allure, but it's hard to get past the fact that they are grossly over-priced. The romantic-mystique is somewhat lost when you learn that they are not native to this area and are farmed. It isn't some native in a loin cloth that dives down on naturally occurring clams and fishes them out. They insert little rounded balls of clam guts into living black-lipped clams that are set up in a huge farm, which grow to your black pearls over a two year period. They have HUGE supplies for these and yet they sell for hundreds or thousands each (depending on quality). It's hard to find value in something that local kids are playing marbles with in the school yard (note: this doesn't actually happen).
The salesman was a good guy though, not at all pushy like Canadian jewellers. He gave us the whole story on the pearls.
Gary and I spent the time looking at the cool artifacts and decorations they had in the shop. Like this huge blowfish.
And this shrunken shark head.
This is Jacko, the pearl shop guard dog, on duty. (His name is not actually Jacko. I don't know his name, nor if he works there.)
We went for lunch after to this nice new little beach-side restaurant called Moorea Beach Café. It was pricey, but the food was amazing, and so was the view.
Gary and Jan are spending the night tonight at one of those 'over-the-water' bungalows. I am in charge of the boat for the night and am really hoping that I don't have to repel pirates and the anchor doesn't drag on me.
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