past, jet-age present

Hotel links lazy-lagoon past, jet-age present

American writer JOHN B.

HART tells the story of Papeete’s legend-in-its-time ho tel. the Hotel Stuart, and its much-loved proprietor. Mum Stuart, who died last year, and recalls the many famous guests who have stayed at the hotel over the years.

Tahiti’s oldest hotelkeeper is dead. At 84 years of age, charming Mum Stuart passed away (PIM Jul p 73) just as her ancient waterfront hostelry was beginning a ‘swinging’ new lease on life.

Historic Hotel Stuart, aided by Pretty Miss France and her Disco Dancing Girls, had only recently launched a nifty new nightclub named by Mum the New Orleans. And it was really rocking and rolling into high orbit. A non-stop Tahitian or chestra and two busy bars

provided Papeete with plenty of action once again, this time around to a noisy go-go beat.

Nostalgia reigned and busi ness was booming at the time worn Stuart. Sadly though, the years had begun to tell on Mum as she tried valiantly to re-live past glories. A sudden stroke quietly ended her bold bid to cater for the tastes of a new generation.

The sturdy old hotel, though, brazenly painted and powdered like an ageing lady of the streets, was clamouring almost as loudly for tourists’ attention as it had ever done before.

Carefree visitors bent elbows with barstool regulars. Inter national sportsfishermen swapped stories with French legionaires. Salty sailors drifted back and forth from yachts tied up across le boulevard Pomare.

Lovely pareu-clad vahines sup-

plied local colour while enjoy ing Tahiti’s most popular sudsy stuff, the brew named Hinano.

In island language the word ‘hinano’ means happy, the bar girls laughingly reminded their many customers. And that’s the way most people lived it up at the New Orleans . . . happy on Hinano.

Atmosphere for daytime imbibing was especially pleasant because the most ro mantic cruising-boat marine in all the South Seas lay just across the street. And after dark, le Stuart offered more real entertainment than you could find in all the rest of sleepy French Polynesia com bined. ‘Everybody liked our place,’ rotund former bar manager Rino tells you, ‘because we had good times going again in Mum’s hotel.’ Prices in her compact, split-level establish ment were always reasonable (considering Tahiti’s high cost of living), even to the modest cover charge for booth seating alongside the dance floor.

An unusual sign of welcome was a shiny mirrored globe above the dancers’ heads reflecting coloured lights on foreign flags from all nations.

And floor to ceiling murals depicting ‘deep South USA’ created a carnival atmosphere reminiscent of Louisiana’s Bourbon Street bistros at Mardi Gras time.

The New Orleans recalled mixed memories of earlier

The Hotel Stuart today, with le Club New Orleans on the ground floor. - Mary Hart picture.

Mum Stuart at 82, photo graphed two years before her death.