When we left the reception we took a limo, but why waste a big stretch limo? We had 6 members of the wedding party join us on the ride. Some were going home to Nashville and two were headed to Nashville airport for their flight home. We let our guard down a bit, though. As hard as we tried to be sophisticated, we couldn't resist having the driver stop at the McDonald's in Clarksville!

After dropping everyone else off, we went to the Opryland Hotel. The service was impeccible! When we arrived and gave the greeter our name, we were whisked to a private check-in facility away from the front desk. Everything was totally arranged and prepared. The only reason it took more than 10 seconds was so they could tell us all the amenities included!

We upgraded our domestic portion to First Class with AAdvantage miles, so it was pleasant flying to Chicago then to L.A. The flight from L.A. to Tahiti on an Air France 747 was nice, but coach class is depressing after being spoiled! We left Nashville at 3:16 p.m. We arrived in Moorea, 4 flights later, at 7:35 a.m. the next day.

We stayed in an overwater bungalow while on Moorea.

The first morning we woke up in Moorea we had breakfast delivered to our bungalow by boat!

In the morning we enjoyed a swim with the dolphins!

In the afternoon we went on the famed shark dive. The dive started out on an ominous note. Alicia was having trouble getting her mask to seal properly and the divemaster was being far too pushy about getting her down. She wanted to abort so I swam over to her but by then she was submerged and when I went under she was giving an OK signal. When we talked about it topside, she said she really wasn't OK.

Alicia had an Open Water certification and I had a Rescue Diver certification. Even though I was the more experienced diver, men tend to go through their air tanks faster than women, especially when they outweigh the woman by 40-50 pounds. I knew Alicia was nervous, so we stayed back from the feeding frenzy the divemaster arranged to bring in the sharks. I was able to count 14 different black-tip reef sharks at one time, so I suspect there were 2 or 3 dozen sharks in the area.

I did a cursory check on my air (like when you first look at your gas gauge in your car soon after filling up - you know it's OK but you just think it's time to look). We started at 3000 p.s.i. (fairly normal) and now I was at 2400 p.s.i. Although opinions vary, I like to be above 60' at 1500 p.s.i., at the 15' safety stop by 1000 p.s.i., and pop the surface at or above 700 p.s.i. That gives me a reasonable pad in an emergency. We were at 70', so it wasn't an extremely deep dive. Instead of asking Alicia to report her air status, I just grabbed her guages and took a look for myself. 700 PSI !!! Yikes!!! I looked at her eyes and they were as big as saucers. I looked at her regulator and saw that she was hyperventilating. That last thing we needed was more panic, so I grabbed my dive knife and banged on my tank. The dive leader looked over and I signalled that Alicia and I were going up. He signalled OK so I grabbed Alicia and signalled to her that we were going to ascend. I pulled my octopus (the extra regulator attached to my tank) out of its harness and kept it handy in case she ran out of air.

When we got to the safety stop the sharks were no longer visible, so Alicia relaxed a bit. The shallow depth and her more relaxed state drastically reduced her air consumption rate. I kept a close eye on her air pressure, though, and kept my octopus handy. No reason to worry her, but good reason to be prepared. Safety stop was completed and we popped the surface. Alicia boarded the boat with about 50 p.s.i. To this day I doubt she realizes that the biggest danger that day was NOT the sharks!

We stayed in a beachfront bungalow on Bora Bora. The day we arrived was rainy and dreary so we mostly relaxed.

we rented a motorcycle and toured the island. Bill had elaborately planned a romantic Valentine's Day picnic - hiding a bottle of Chardonnay, a corkscrew, two wine glasses, and a bread knife from Alicia, buying a baguette, a pineapple, and some cheese at a local market along the way, and finding the location of "the best beach in the world" according to at least one popular travel magazine. We parked the motorcycle at the edge of the road, threw out the oversized beach towel Bill was hiding all this time for just this occasion, and set up the picnic. There were two things we didn't plan on. One was funny, one wasn't.

Right in the middle of a toast to our future, a young man (about 12 - 14 years old) came up and gave Alicia a page from a newspaper and said "Happy Valentine's Day" before scurrying off. The newspaper page had a picture of a heart-shaped cake. Several minutes later a woman came by and apologized for her son. She said he came into her shop and asked how to give a Valentine's Day greeting in English and she told him without realizing he would bother us. We told her no problem. In fact, it was kind of cool.

So now we get back to romance, staring into each others eyes, basking in the warmth of the beach and the surf, and WHAT'S THAT SOUND??? We set down our cheese and bread and wine and pineapple and listen. THERE IT IS AGAIN! But what is it? It seems to be very near by, but there is no visible sign of any movement except for the road 20 feet away and the surf 30 feet away. Once again we heard a soft thud. Maybe not a "soft thud", more like a "muffled hard thud." The sound is clearly nearby but we can't imagine where it's coming from.

Just then I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Apparently mid-February is when the coconuts fall out of the trees in the South Pacific and that palm tree we were using for shade was just getting started dropping them! The one time I really NEED a helmet and it's back on the motorcycle! Of course we scurry out from under the tree before we get beaned.

Years later, watching the movie Castaway, we knew right away what the strange sound was that Tom Hanks was hearing!

The plan was to save a few bucks by staying in a beach bungalow (not even a beachfront bungalow), but there was a bit of a mixup somewhere and all they had left when we got there was their top-of-the-line overwater bungalow! What a lucky break!

We visited a black pearl farm and had a very memorable dive where we saw two large manta rays near the end of the dive.

The most bizarre scene of the entire trip was on Manihi. This was a VERY small resort on a VERY small atoll (not even an island). We went to the "clubhouse" (just a grass hut) and saw a few guests and workers enjoying a basketball game on TV. It took us a while to realize they were watching the '96 NBA playoffs ON TAPE because they couldn't get any live sports.

We arrived in Tahiti at 5 p.m. and stayed at the Hyatt. This gave us plenty of time to get packed and relax before our 9:20 a.m. flight to L.A.

But we weren't content to relax. Bill heard about this great restaurant called Le Belvedere so we invited our new-found friends, Russ and Tracy, to join us.

The only thing worse than the long, twisting, turning, slow, bumpy ride up to the restaurant was the ride back over the same road because then you knew it wasn't worth it.

The food was OK, but pricey. The view was nice, but we had just spent over a week up close and personal with French Polynesia, so the view wasn't that compelling.

Our DC-10 that left Tahiti at 9:20 a.m. landed in L.A. at 7:15 p.m. No reason to take the red-eye, so we stayed at the Radisson and caught the noon flight direct to Nashville. We had forgotten that we used AAdvantage miles to upgrade the domestic portion of our trip, so it was a pleasant surprise to fly home in the First Class cabin.