Find winter relief (and adventure) at this tropical haven on your doorstep

In a place where lines blur between land and water, our writer attempts to find her sea legs.

I'm huddled in the back of a fishing boat which is pitching in the South Pacific Ocean near Bora Bora, wondering how things could have turned so bad, so quickly. My luggage is in the fish stow, next to what looks suspiciously like fish guts, and all I can think is: thank goodness I had the foresight to bring travel sickness tablets.

We are following the final leg of the 30th annual Hawaiki Nui Va'a, a six-man rowing race in traditional pendulum canoes, between the Islands of Tahiti. There are hundreds of boats in the water, following the "va'as" and cheering them on as the men paddle furiously in the rough sea.

With my limited boating experience, I'm finding the sea pretty rough - and it's not what I imagined when I was lying among tiare (gardenia) petals in my luxurious overwater bungalow earlier in the morning.

Inexplicably, the three Tahitians in the boat with me are barely holding on - they are made for the water and seem unfazed as the vessel jerks up and down, waves toppling over the sides.

The Hawaiki Nui Va'a is a competition of speed and endurance, each team vying to be the first to reach the peacock-blue waters of Bora Bora - the pearl of Tahiti. The rowers travel 128 kilometres over three days, through the high seas and into the lagoon between the Leeward Islands - Huahine to Raiatea, then to Taha'a, and finally on to Bora Bora.

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This is an extreme sport, and I'm not a water baby like these people. I grew up on a mountain, and I'm a little afraid - what on earth am I doing here?

But of course, I am here by choice - and who wouldn't want to come to Tahiti, where life moves at a slower pace? Forget your worries, because it might be one of the happiest places on earth.

My tour guide, Mana Tang, calls it "Tahiti time", and as he greets me at Faa'a International Airport, he places a welcome lei of fragrant frangipani and bougainvillea weaved with satin ribbon around my neck. The Tahitians are relaxed and generous, and Mana has a great sense of humour. He and his wife, Vanessa, are in high demand as owner-operators of Tiurai Tours, as tourism is booming post-pandemic.

More than 120 islands and atolls make up the Islands of Tahiti, stretching over more than 2000 kilometres in the South Pacific. The autonomous overseas French territory's population is just 280,000, and the people speak mostly French, as well as Tahitian.

We are at a local market where Mana shows me Tahiti's biggest exports - tuna, black pearls and coconut. They have some weird and wacky fruits here, and I taste star apple for the first time, its bright purple flesh reminiscent of kiwifruit with custard.

Perhaps fortuitously, Mana doesn't recommend the infamous bread fruit, which he describes as "a mix between tofu and cardboard". "It's like cilantro [coriander] - you either love it or hate it," he laughs.

Mana grew up in Tahiti, the biggest of the islands, and he likes a lot of foods which he says are weird to tourists. This includes fafaru, a fermented fish dish which he calls "an acquired taste". "Not even kids like it. But once you get used to it, that smelly thing is what you're looking for," he says.

It's 22 degrees when I wake up at Le Tahiti by Pearl Resorts, but it feels like 30 because of the humidity. The resort is on northern Tahiti Nui, meaning "big" Tahiti, and I can hear the sea pushing and pulling outside my window.

I'm keen to check out the beach because I've heard the sand is black on this part of the island, due to its volcanic origins. I won't get to inspect the shore until later, but one thing I am warned about is that the dark sand gets very hot in the afternoon sun - so bring your thongs.

Mana and Vanessa are taking me on an island tour, and first stop is Vaimahuta waterfall where we see phaethons - beautiful tropical birds with long, white tail feathers, which are used in local funeral rites. The bush is tropical here and cordylines, ornamental ginger and starfruit grow wild along the edges of the path.

We pass a beach where local children and tourists are learning how to surf - something Tahiti is known for. Not too far away on the southern side of the island, in Tahiti Iti - meaning "little" Tahiti - is Teahupo'o beach, where France is holding its Olympic Games surfing events. When I ask Mana to spell Teahupo'o for me, he tells me there are only 13 letters in the Tahitian alphabet, which is why there are "always so many vowels next to each other".

When the French impressionist painter, Paul Gauguin, arrived in French Polynesia's capital city, Papeete, in 1891, he depicted Tahiti as an untouched paradise. The area still boasts lush foliage and tropical trees, but it is also built-up. Restaurants and nightclubs, as well as surf shops, line the streets. Tahitians dress casually, mostly in shorts, T-shirts and thongs. But the islands' history is fashioned in the beautiful dresses worn by many women, including Vanessa - long, flowing and colourful, completed by an intricate hat made of woven pandanus leaves.

That afternoon, I finally feel the warm sea water - it is permanently around 27 degrees. I meet Larry from Moana Explorer on the dark sand of Lafayette Beach, and we are to ride on his holopuni canoe - an outrigger paddling and sailing vessel, and a traditional form of carriage between the islands.

I have covered pretty much every body part I can in lycra, nervous of getting sunburn on my pale skin. In contrast, Larry is shirtless and tanned in the Tahitian sun. He speaks French with little English, but I manage to convey that I'm nervous of sailing - and even more nervous of sitting on the net on the side of the vessel, which is where he wants me to position myself.

Reluctantly, I climb on, and self-consciously entwine my fingers into the mesh. Thankfully, Larry goes slowly for me, though I can tell he wants to let rip and show me his skills behind the sail. Larry works a full-time job, but holopuni is his passion. Being a Tahitian, he grew up on the water, and he is perplexed when I decline his invitation to swim into a grotto in the side of a cliff - by myself - as he keeps the boat from sailing off.

We don't go far out, because there is a storm coming in, and I can't quite believe my eyes when I see my first ever flying fish, flapping like a butterfly along the water.

Larry sometimes takes this vessel on the 12-hour trip to the ancient island of Raiatea, navigating by the stars. As far as sea legs go, Larry is way ahead of me, and he yells "Woohoo!" in delight as the wind takes us quickly back into shore - the one time I allow him to go quickly.

At lunch, I eat poisson cru - raw tuna marinated in lime juice and coconut milk, the unofficial national dish of Tahiti, and I enjoy its savoury tanginess. That night, dinner is red tuna fillet grilled with French pepper sauce, a delightful collaboration between cultures.

Tahiti is heaven for the nostrils and the scents of tiare, coconut and vanilla hang in the air. On the island of Taha'a, I eat small, ripe bananas, paw-paw and mango slices dipped into freshly shaved coconut - a traditional snack. Seventy per cent of Tahiti's vanilla production comes from here and is regarded to be some of the best in the world.

I will stay on Taha'a for the next two nights, before embarking on the va'a journey. The island is close to Bora Bora and the sand here is white, the water all kinds of blue. Yvann Mama of Taha'a Tour Excursion says the island is known as "Vanilla Island" and he will be taking the tour group around the entire thing in his four-wheel-drive utility, which has padded bench seats and a canopy with plastic roll-down sides retrofitted into the tray.

There are numerous small villages on Taha'a, and these are dotted around the shoreline, separated by lush rainforest and surrounding an old volcano standing dramatically in the centre.

It has been raining and a hog stands happily in mud. Nearby, a child squeals in delight while two others push him on a hammock between two swaying coconut trees. At the next town, the smell of barbecue meat wafts into the ute-tray as we pass a church yard, and locals wave at us from their front-door steps.

We visit a vanilla plantation called La Vallée De La Vanille where Emma Kania demonstrates how she processes vanilla pods to make essence and extract. Vanilla flowers open for only six hours, during which time the plantation team must pollinate each plant by hand.

Growing and processing vanilla is laborious and that's why it's known as "black gold", Emma says while holding up a pod. She shows us how she massages them one by one to loosen their seeds, before placing them in a cotton bag in the sun for a few hours a day, every day for three weeks. "Here we massage, dry and transform. It's time consuming ... [that's why] we call them babies," she laughs.

Not far away, we learn the fascinating process of farming pearls from South Pacific oysters at Love Here Pearl Farm. Poerava Tetuaearo explains how the "black pearls" actually come in 160 colours, the most sought-after being gold, champagne, blue and peacock.

In nature, pearls don't come out perfect and smooth like we see them in jewellery, Poerava says: "They're never round - to make the round shape we have to put something inside - a nucleus or support."

We meet a gentleman referred to only as the "grafter", who sits at a desk with a magnifying glass. Working at speed, he takes an oyster, opens it a centimetre and uses a long, thin tool to place a nucleus and a tiny piece of flesh into its pearl pouch.

The mollusc is then closed and placed back into the water for 18 months before the pearl can be harvested. The grafter will do 400 of these a day.

Back in the ute, it starts to rain again and Yvann ties down the sides of the plastic canopy. It teems - warm and tropical - and I don't care that it's running down the walls, wetting me. A frangipani flower blows into the vehicle and swirls around in the wind before being sucked back out into the open air. I smell my hands - tiare soap, sweet and pungent from the bathroom at the oyster farm.

My hair is salty and windblown and my skin sticky from sweat and sunscreen when we arrive at the glorious Le Taha'a by Pearl Resorts. As soon as I am left alone in my bungalow over the water, I climb down the ladder off my private deck and plonk into the crystal sea, then I go inside and bathe in tiare petals and Tahitian vanilla oil.

The following day we snorkel in a coral garden and swim with reef sharks - which is not as scary as I thought it would be. Lunch is served on a deserted "motu" (islet) with rum punch, champagne and an array of Tahitian dishes including coconut bread - which I must learn how to make.

Once again, I'm nervous about being inexperienced in the water, and when my arms tire, my guide takes my hand and pulls me over the coral. With my hand in his, I feel like I'm flying, and when I see a big fish with a clam in its mouth, I laugh into my snorkel.

Our fishing boat is anchored in the bay and we are waiting for the va'as to arrive. The water here is calm, and so blue - I would use the kingfisher pencil in my Derwent box. There are hundreds of people walking around in the chest-high water, drinking Hinano - Tahitian beer - and families and tourists who have come for the event are enjoying the cultural immersion.

The va'as begin to paddle into the beach and the crowd applauds them. The men are exhausted and elated and girlfriends and family members wade through the water to congratulate the brave sportsmen.

This is the beautiful endpoint to the journey and the last day of my trip, and it is in stark contrast to an hour earlier when I was doubled over, knuckles turning white, fearing for my sanity, and wanting it all to be over.

The Hawaiki Nui Va'a is competitive, but all the rowers look out for each other. It's the Tahitian spirit, the friendliness and camaraderie bringing this culture together in the sport of the sea. Later, when I'm waiting for the plane back to Tahiti, sun-burnished rowers from opposing teams drink beer and celebrate together at the airport bar.

These beautiful people were born with their feet in the water and they live their life on the edge of the ocean, the lines blurred between sea and sand, drifting out and back in as you or I would drive down to the shops.

I feel embarrassed by how scared I was while we were traversing the waves in the fishing boat. But the captain and skipper never made me feel silly. At the end, the skipper asked me for a selfie. He took it, both of us smiling into his phone - a moment of connection despite the language barrier, and an acknowledgement of what we'd been through today, out on the ocean.

When I looked up again, the ancient, jagged volcano remnant of Mount Otemanu stood 727 metres tall, watching over the party in the turquoise bay below.

Getting there: Air Tahiti Nui offers flights to Papeete, Tahiti, from Sydney via Auckland. Qantas is the carrier for the Sydney to Auckland leg and Air Tahiti Nui does the rest. To get to Taha'a, you can catch an Air Tahiti Nui flight from Papeete to Raiatea, then a boat to the islands. To get to Bora Bora, you can fly from Papeete, or catch a boat from Raiatea. See au.airtahitinui.com

Staying there: Pearl Resorts owns resorts in Tahiti, Taha'a and Bora Bora, each beautiful in its own way. The prices can go up to $3000 per night, depending on what level of luxury you're after. I recommend an overwater bungalow, which is expensive, but glorious.

Taha'a must-do: From Taha'a by Pearl Resorts, book a full-day private boat tour with Terainui Tours or through your hotel. You can swim in the coral garden and see different species of multicoloured fish, swim with reef sharks, and have a beautiful local lunch along with rum punch and champagne on a motu - which is like a deserted island.

Activities: The Hawaiki Nui Va'a is an incredible experience - particularly for those who love boats and extreme sports. Contact your hotel for boat tour options, or set yourself up in the bay at Bora Bora to watch the canoes cross the finish line. It's a whole party atmosphere, and is on in 2024 from October 30 to November 2.

Explore more: tahititourisme.com

The writer was a guest of Tahiti Tourisme and Air Tahiti Nui.