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If you've yearned to take Omar literally all your life, latch on to a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and a ticket, one way natch, to these sun drenched isles of rapture where the loving's easy!

"Island of Too Much Love"


by Dustin Moreland

from

Vue

Vol. 12 No. 1 1959




     ARE you the sort of male who's often yearned to 'get away from it all' on a far away tropical isle full of willing gals? If this is the thought that's been bugging you, run, don't walk, to the nearest plane, steamship, or tramp freighter heading for the mysterious is lands of Polynesia. They're the places where you'll find tastes to suit your every wish. The Polynesian group consists of sacred and profane lands, places famed for dances; islands noted for shapely coffee colored maidens primitive lands, lazy lands and productive places.
It's here you can find some of the most beautiful, and uninhibited people in the world, amoral, fun-loving natives, all innocently unaware that they are occupying the globe's last true bachelor paradise.
     The emerald reefs, indigo lagoons, swaying palms and isolated stretches of beach are pretty much as they were when Captain Cook first dropped anchor. Fish are plentiful and need no skill to catch, girls dance the nights away to provocatively torrid, rhythms; and breadfruits, bananas, papayas and mangoes abound in profusion.
     Someone once tabbed these isles the 'Islands of too much love,' and that pretty much sums up Polynesia where 1,000 atolls reach from the Date Line to the 110th Meridian, an empire comprising the Samoas, Tongas, Tahitis and Marquesas. To the south, lies Pitcairn where mutineers and their debaucheries won a place in maritime history. Far off to the east are the Easter Islands where sexually symbolic statues and symbols still defy the anthropologists trying to solve their secrets. However, the island that really got in my blood was Tahiti, six hundred miles of exciting scenery with girls to match. Papeete, the place here that's called love town, is one of the great ports of call and any morning you can see scantily garbed beauties loaded with leis greeting fortunate visitors at the docks.
     In Papeete, a bachelor is strictly on his own and he soon learns girls and boys both, are dedicated to the worship of fun. Upon debarking, strangers are certain to be stopped by local belles and given cards containing the addresses of 'Love Teachers' along with rates and suitable comments concerning the native brand of woo pitching. The smart guy ignores these peddlers because it is only an hour or so before he learns the best things in love are free. Native girls, it seems, have an insatiable fascination concerning white men. This isn't something new either, old time gobs on wind jammers recorded juicy bits in their personal logs pertaining to the worship women here have for the white man's brand of love.
     One of the first things a newcomer should know is the secret flower code of the people. Every native wears a white blossom be hind the ear. For women, the frangipani flower placed behind the left ear means she's available, behind the right ear it means 'keep off.' For the males it works in reverse. Wealth is measured in terms of coconut palms, the most valuable item on the island. They're worn, burned, eaten drinks are made from them, they're slept under, and shipped out as copra.
     Children are welcome and loved, no matter how they find their way into the world. There isn't any stigma attached if their parents forget to go through a ceremony. Opium, rum, gambling and other pleasures of a more heated nature can he located too easily.
     There's very little culture here, but don't let it bother you. All you have to do is see bachelors like yourself who came to look.., but remained to play, and you'll wonder what kept you from these shores for so long!
 
 


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