Island Hopping – the New Caledonian Way

As is usually the case with us, we weren’t content just sitting still. We had to explore what was beyond our little patch of paradise, so it was time for a bit of island hopping.

Maitre Island

First up, with the grandkids in tow, was Maitre Island. It’s only a short taxi boat ride from Noumea with the wonderful Captain Geoffrey.

This island is home to the Hilton’s famous overwater bungalows and is very much a tourist destination.

There are food facilities on the island, although “fast food” definitely hasn’t reached Maitre yet. We waited an hour and a half for nuggets and chips. With three hungry grandchildren, that felt more like three days. Let’s just say the staff weren’t in any danger of being rushed off their feet.

The trip back, however, was the real highlight. Captain Geoffrey slowed the boat right down and gave us a glass-bottom tour over the reef. Colourful coral, schools of tropical fish… and then… a turtle!

Cue absolute pandemonium from three excited children and two equally excited grandparents.

Duck Island

Next stop was the very small Duck Island. Again, Captain Geoffrey came to the rescue.

We actually visited twice—once with the three older grandkids and then again with our newest little addition. Both days were magical.

The island is currently closed for renovations, so you’re probably wondering how we managed to get there.

Simple.

Captain Geoff happily dropped us off on what felt like our own private deserted island and promised to return four hours later.

Thankfully, he kept his promise.

Now, when I say it’s a small island… I mean really small. You can walk around it in about ten minutes. Freddy and I, however, managed to turn those ten minutes into a full-scale treasure hunt. (No treasure was found, but plenty of shells were deemed priceless.)

If you’re feeling a little more energetic than me, you can snorkel all the way around the island. That takes considerably longer than ten minutes and is probably better for your waistline than searching for imaginary pirate gold.

There are no facilities here at all, so thankfully we packed enough snacks and drinks because “deserted island” quickly loses its appeal when the children start asking for food every three minutes.

Two very special family days we’ll never forget.

Signal Island

Our next adventure was Signal Island.

The weather looked decidedly ordinary when we left, but that’s one thing we’ve learnt about New Caledonia—it changes its mind every five minutes.

This island sits a little further offshore, so Captain Geoffrey got a well-earned day off.

More snorkelling. More turtles. More moments where I wondered why fish insist on looking so much better underwater than I ever do.

Definitely another must-do if you’re visiting New Caledonia.

Isle of Pines — Saving the Best Until Last

Our final island escape was the spectacular Isle of Pines.

A quick twenty-minute domestic flight over lagoons so blue they honestly don’t look real, and we arrived for five glorious nights. Just the two of us.

Now this place is something special.

Our beachfront bungalow at Oure Lodge was perfect. Ideal for young couples like us… or people who actually are young couples.

The water was crystal clear, warm, calm and shallow enough for me to look like a beached whale.

Honestly, it’s one of those places where every time you look up you find yourself saying, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lobster, Champagne and Sailing

Most activities on the Isle of Pines seem to revolve around eating lobster. (see our next blog for all our food adventures)

No complaints from us.

And naturally, lobster demands champagne. I don’t make the rules.

One afternoon we climbed aboard an outrigger canoe for a sail around Oro Bay. Calling it an outrigger canoe almost makes it sound too polished. It looked like it had been lovingly built from bits of timber that someone found lying around the island and held together with rope. As the wind started to pick up, we did glance at each other wondering whether this little masterpiece was actually going to survive the trip.

Thankfully, it did.

The wind picked up beautifully, the sails went up and off we glided through turquoise water while turtles casually swam beneath us as though they were putting on a private performance.

Then, in incredibly shallow water, we spotted an enormous shark.

Naturally, our outrigger captain decided we should get a closer look.

Apparently, getting closer to a huge shark in ankle-deep water seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea to him.

Unfortunately, the outrigger became stuck on a sandbank.

Without the slightest hesitation, the captain jumped out of the boat—right near the shark—and started pushing us back into deeper water.

The rest of us sat there in stunned silence, absolutely terrified that he was going to climb back onboard with only one leg.

Thankfully, both legs returned with him, the outrigger floated free, and the shark seemed completely uninterested in adding our captain to its lunch menu.

It really doesn’t get much better—or more terrifying—than that.

One thing we quickly learnt about Oure Lodge was that dinner involved a decent walk to what we thought was the best restaurant on the island, located on the opposite side of the bay. During the day it’s a lovely stroll through the bush and along the beach. At night… it’s a completely different story.

Picture two people with the torch on an iPhone, wandering through the bush, listening to every rustle in the trees and convincing ourselves that every shadow was something waiting to jump out at us.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, Rowdy almost collided with a local fisherman standing silently on the beach.

I don’t know who got the biggest fright—Rowdy, the fisherman or me—but there may have been a few words uttered that probably aren’t suitable for a family travel blog.

Let’s just say the walk home afterwards was considerably quicker.

On our last night at Oure we ventured back to the same restaurant for one final lovely dinner.

Unfortunately, when we returned it was high tide, so there was to be no walking back along the beach.

“Let’s take the road,” Rowdy said.

Seemed perfectly sensible to me…

…until we realised there were no lights at all.

The road disappeared beneath a canopy of trees, and it was pitch black in front of us and pitch black behind us. I’ve never experienced darkness like that before. It was genuinely scary—to the point where I think I would have preferred taking my chances with the high tide.

The Island Welcome Committee

One thing I haven’t mentioned yet about the Isle of Pines is the dogs.

I’m convinced they somehow knew I was an absolute sucker.

Everywhere we went there seemed to be another friendly face with a wagging tail waiting for a pat, a scratch behind the ears or, if they were lucky, a full-blown cuddle. Before long I’d developed quite the fan club.

Rowdy would just stand there shaking his head while I chatted away to my four legged friends.

There was one gorgeous little puppy that completely stole my heart. I may or may not have quietly wandered into someone’s backyard just to sneak in one more cuddle.

Don’t judge me.

The owners didn’t seem to mind, the puppy certainly didn’t mind, and for a brief moment I seriously considered whether there was enough room in our luggage for one extra passenger.

Sadly, she stayed on the Isle of Pines.

Although if she’d followed me to the airport, there’s every chance she would have ended up with an Australian passport.

Lost in Translation

On one of our days we took a boat trip to Brush Island with some of the other guests from the resort.

Once we arrived, we were all pointed towards a bush track leading to the opposite side of the island.

There was no guide.

No map.

No explanation.

Just lots of enthusiastic French accompanied by several arm gestures.

We nodded confidently… while having absolutely no idea what we’d just agreed to.

Fortunately, some lovely English-speaking French travellers adopted us for the day and became our unofficial interpreters.

Otherwise, we may still be wandering around Brush Island wondering where everyone went.

The reward at the end?

A beautiful snorkel followed by a feast of freshly cooked lobster, local fish, tropical fruit and vegetables.

Definitely worth not getting lost.

Rowdy vs the Manta Rays

On the way back we stopped at one of the local manta ray cleaning stations.

The skipper hadn’t even finished explaining—in French, so how were we supposed to know what was going on?—before Rowdy was halfway over the side of the boat.

The rest of us?

Quite happy to admire them from a safe, dry distance.

There were seven people on board, all pointing in completely different directions and yelling excitedly in French.

“There!”

“No… over there!”

“Behind you!”

It was hilarious watching everyone on the boat willing Rowdy to find them.

Poor Rowdy spent the next ten minutes swimming in circles while every manta ray politely disappeared just before he reached it.

Eventually they surfaced.

Such magnificent creatures.

Huge, graceful and glowing electric blue as they folded through the water.

After much shouting, pointing, waving and laughing, Rowdy finally managed to capture some video before we convinced him to get back into the boat.

He was one very happy camper.

Until…

We arrived back at the lodge with our new friends, and trying to be the helpful gentleman that he is, Rowdy offered to assist an elderly French lady off the boat as she was struggling to swing her leg over the side.

Unfortunately, just as she committed herself, the boat drifted away.

The poor lady landed flat on her back in the shallow water… while still hanging on to Rowdy for dear life.

She immediately launched into what was no doubt a very passionate speech in French.

Neither of us had the slightest idea what she was saying, but judging by the tone, I don’t think she was thanking him.

Thankfully she wasn’t hurt, Rowdy eventually escaped with his dignity mostly intact, and once we realised she was okay, the whole boat had a good laugh—including the lady herself.

She did, however, keep her distance from us for the next few days.

The Natural Pools

If you visit the Isle of Pines—and you absolutely should—you simply cannot miss the Natural Pools.

Imagine someone carving an enormous tropical aquarium out of coral.

That’s exactly what it feels like.

It’s about a fifteen-minute walk from the park entrance (entry is 1,000 CFP), and every step is worth it.

The fish are everywhere. They swim around you in huge colourful schools without the slightest concern that you’re invading their living room.

We’ve snorkelled in some incredible places over the years, but this was probably the best we’ve ever experienced.

And then, just to top it all off, a beautiful turtle wandered over and seemed perfectly happy to pose for photos while we stood there making complete fools of ourselves and talking to it like it was a long-lost friend.

Our Verdict

If you’re planning a trip to New Caledonia, don’t just stay in Noumea.

As lovely as it is, the real magic lies beyond the mainland.

Whether it’s tiny islands with treasure hunts, deserted beaches, turtles, manta rays, lobster lunches, slightly questionable outriggers, sharks, midnight walks through spooky bush tracks, or some of the most beautiful snorkelling we’ve ever experienced, there’s a whole ocean of adventures waiting just offshore.

Trust us… it’s worth every boat ride.

love, life and happiness.

Rowdy and Suz