Polynesian Cruise - Day 1

This is a narrative of a 2023 cruise through Polynesia on the Majestic Princess.  The cruise begins at the California passenger terminal at San Pedro (Los Angeles) and ends in Auckland, New Zealand with port calls in Honolulu (Lahaina was dropped as it was substantially destroyed by the fires of the summer of 2023), Moorea, Papeete, and Pago Pago.

And so it begins . . .

Sunday, October 8, 2023 - Let's Sail!

Departure delay arrives.  The wait was not as long as the Antarctic trip, but a long wait nonetheless. The long waits are a bit disorienting - there's plenty of time to prepare but when it gets close to departure you maybe forgot some of what you packed/prepared and, as more is learned in the preparation you realize some things are just not necessary.

Our neighbor picked me and MJ up at 4:30. It takes a special person to get up at 4:00 AM on a Sunday and drive over an hour (one way) to help a friend. Thanks Karen!

Arrived at the airport before 6:00 AM but TSA was already crowded - lots of families, but things moved well. One of my fears was alleviated when my pants didn't drop down to my ankles while I raised my hands so the scanner could get a good view of me. Removing the belt for TSA after dropping some weight around the belly could have unintended consequences.

But all went well, I got through security without incident, and boarding started on time. About midway through boarding though, the airline announced there was a ground hold and we would be delayed at least one hour. This was not part of the plan but it could have been worse - the people who already boarded were not allowed to de-plane. I think I can absorb an hour delay, but then again, I am at the mercy of Princess Cruises who is taking me from LAX to the port. 

As the delay drags on, people are exiting the plane, we've been delayed so long now that they are missing connecting flights. A couple behind me trying to get to Reno via Los Angeles have to go home - no flights until tomorrow. Two hours in to the delay and people are starting to get antsy. At least the airline has the door open so people can exit if necessary.

Into the third hour of delay. I've overheard other travelers asking rhetorically, "Why does this always happen?" Well, flight delays and cancellations don't always happen but they seem to happen far too often - and it doesn't look like anything is going to change soon and people are getting more and more frustrated. How that frustration will affect their future travel plans remains to be seen.

Of course, the plane eventually got to Los Angeles, and they didn't lose my suitcase - maybe wrapping the suitcase in a bundle of worry to protect it from harm works. So, Southwest Airlines got me to my intended destination along with my suitcase but I'd missed my shuttle by nearly two hours. I called Princess and they suggested taking an Uber and deal with a refund on the ship. I think I'll not be pre-arranging ground transportation anymore.  

And that brings up another issue I have with airlines and the true cost of flying.  The basic, fast getaway fares that the airlines advertise are no longer worth it.  The liklihood of something going wrong is over 50% regardless of which airline you fly and unless you're a fan of throwing money away that pushes you to buy the more expensive ticket to facilitate refunds.  However, as in the case with my shuttle to the port, the airlines bears no responsibility for any additional losses you might incur because of their delays. So, not only are you pushed into buying more expensive tickets, but you are putting prearranged purchases at risk - the option being to pay for those services at time of delivery.  In my case, the Uber ride was double the cost of the shuttle - and if I'm not successful in getting a refund for the failed shuttle ride I will have paid three times what it should have cost to get me to the port.  See what I mean about airlines?

But the Ukranian driver who fetched me from the Uber stand was entertaining.  He's been in the US for 25 years, probably came around the time of the dissolution of the USSR. He's not a fan of Putin but his animosity was not as great as I would've expected.  At one point he said, "Russians and Ukranians have been killing each other for centuries. Idiots." He offered an interesting perspective on the war in the part of the world. He also said, flat out, Zelensky is not in Ukraine. He believes he's in Poland perhaps and added that if he were in Ukraine he would be killed by Russian operatives, that's how he knows he's not there.  Again, an interesting perspective.

He dropped me off at the World Port in San Pedro and I held on to my suitcase despite some mild protest and warnings from the porters. Soon I was headed through security where I still had to remove my belt.  I just have to pause on that one. Why have ship passengers remove their belt?  There are knives and weapons aplenty aboard ship, many of them larger than I could possibly hide in a belt, and there's no way I can conceal enough explosives in to take down a cruise ship, besides, a good sniffer would detect that anyway.  So what's the purpose?

Nonetheless, I sailed through security, a mild wait for my registration and medallion - the medallion, by the way, is a small, magnetic fob that gives you access to your room as well as facilitates purchases and identification - and then it was directly up to the cabin and home for most of the rest of the month - Deck 15 (Marina), Mini-suite 324.

The housekeeper, Depchai from Thailand, has mediocre English skills and whatever issues that might cause is more than made up for by his cheerful demeanor (he actually sings while he works) and a service-oriented attitude.  We exchanged some family information, he has a wife and 6-year old daughter back in Thailand, and he reminded me to let him know if I needed anything. He brought me two flutes of champagne - "one for your wife who is not here" and about 30 minutes later he came back to see how I was doing and he had another two more champagnes. Two thumbs up for Depchai.

I was amazed at how drawn out I was after what was supposed to be a short hop to LA. I was hot, sweaty, hungry (dang, forgot to eat again!), and I just wanted to, well, jump on a ship and leave it all behind.  I got the "jump on a ship" part done. 

I gave Mary Jane a virtual tour of the suite, sent a couple photos, and did a call with Gianna.  Everything is OK on their ends and it's a relief knowing I can leave without some unsettled issue lurking out there.  Then, as tradition mandates, I grabbed a camera, bought a drink and headed aft to the site of the liveliest bon voyage party - and, finally, at 4 bells, the second part was fulfilled as we set sail. I breathed a deep sigh as the weight lifted.

I took up post at the rail as we backed out of the channel and past the breakwater to open ocean. There were a few other people taking photos there and I met Bernerd from British Guyana. He's about my age, heck, seems like most of the people on this ship are about my age, and has a music background playing steel drum. Growing up in South America, the only English-speaking country in South America, has molded a unique perspective for Bernerd, tempered by his own playfulness. He said that, as he aged, he hated that he found himself spending more and more time complaining about people, politics, and prices (the 3 P's), so he decided to make a change and now he is learning to enjoy complaining about people, politics, and prices. Profound, that Bernerd is. But he wasn't the only one. Much like the people on the Antarctic Expedition, most everyone on the ship seems to be well-seasoned travelers and I'm looking forward to hearing their stories.

The bon voyage party itself wasn't nearly as energetic as when we sailed on the Discovery Princess to Cabo San Lucas in the Spring but it's a different crowd with a different purpose - Cabo was a party boat. I was not interested in the dining room tonight, just something simple from the International Cafe - their toasted salami sandwich which Gianna and I agreed was one of the best foods on the Cabo trip.  I brought it up to the cabin and wolfed it down with a bottle of water - I wanted to get the cabin organized so I could really start relaxing. It'll fall into place and my sense is that this cruise promises to be an interesting one.

Day Rating (1 to 10): 5

Monday, October 9, 2023 - First Day at Sea
It was a bit of an awkward start to the day.  I awoke in my usual wee morning hours but with tea not being delivered until 6:30 at the earliest I would have to go foraging, besides, it would help me get some steps in early in the day. I held off until 4:00 am and then ventured out.  It was the usual morning scene, the cleaners scurrying about the Lido deck, scrubbing, mopping, arranging, re-arranging.  Some of the workers were diligent about their tasks while others seemed to be more interested in face-timing family back home. Some of these young people have been at sea for years with only brief respites and factoring in time differences, they just have to squeeze in those family moments whenever they can.

I found two coffee stations, one nearby on the Lido and another down on Deck 5.  Nothing fancy but they had hot water and Earl Grey, that's all I needed - and I knocked out a quarter of my target steps for the day. I just sat in the nearly empty World Marketplace and enjoyed my tea while the cooks began laying out their spreads for the morning meal. The aromas got to me and instead of just having some bread and butter, at 5:00 I got up to review the offerings.  Salmon, and smoked haddock too, along with the all fixings for the lox and bagel I was looking forward to eating for breakfast. A few different kinds of congee for the Asian travelers and eggs and meats for the Americans. That's just the tip of the berg though, suffice it to say there's something for everyone.

After breakfast I retired to my cabin to plan my day and at 6:30 my tea arrived to help power up the day. One of the things I appreciate about this cabin is the quietness. I have never heard my neighbors on either side, and the Lido deck, although right above me, is surprisingly quiet as well.  I hear some furniture scraping along the deck from time to time but it's negligible.

Many passengers got on in Los Angeles - fresh meat for the sellers of art, trinkets, watches, bling, and souveniers - Alaskan goods were up to 75 % off. The sellers were all on their A-game as they geared up to compete for the passengers dollars. In reviewing the special sales, promotions, raffles, and giveaways on offer it was clear I'd have to scramble from site to site to take advantage of the rafles and giveaways to bring some things back for Mary Jane and Gianna. The onboard "shopping concierge", a slick, fast-talking woman from Zimbabwe who knew how to work the crowd, set up her podium in an open area surrounded by shops and she proceeded to run down all the deals for the hungry shoppers because "It's Your vacation and You deserve it!" while also encouraging the crowd to close their eyes, take a deep breath, and give themselves permission to shop, permission to take advantage of these deals that are on offer today and today only, this first full day of this Pacific crossing. We were told we could buy tomorrow, but never again at these prices. The crowd ate it up and they queued up waving their credit cards at frantic cashiers.  And, yes, I did buy something.  Like I said, she was good.  Real good.

After not winning Princess water bottles, stuffed bears, and $100 off jewelry coupons, I wandered down a couple decks to the GoPro demo.  They weren't offering anything free so it was a small crowd and the unfortunate presenter was having problems getting his AV setup.  Poor planning, maybe no planning. The presentation was okay but the GoPro itself was pretty impressive.  It was just a little more costly than the brand X I bought and if I hadn't already bought an underwater video camera I probably would've got one.

Even though I had a hearty breakfast, as I passed by the International Cafe I couldn't resist their salami sandwiches.  The counter person heated up a couple for me and I walked them back to the cabin for a relaxing lunch on the balcony. The cabin doors are mag-locked and they unlock when your fob, "Medallion" as Princess calls it, is in proximity - very convenient, especially when your hands are full of salami sandwiches.  But there's also a small screen on the wall by the door inviting you to touch your fob to it to win "Princess Prizes". Inasmuch as this is a journey of discovery I decided to bite so I could see what Princess Prizes was all about.  I held the fob up to the screen and was immediately congratulated for entering Princess Prizes.  Cool.  

After lunch I checked my bill.  I've found it's a good idea to check your charges at least once a day to make sure nothing has been mistakenly added - and I've found erroneous charges on every cruise I've been on. The last charge on the bill was $260 for Princess Prizes - $10 per day.  Huh? I walked down to Guest Services and, appropriately, the charges were withdrawn.  

After it was settled, I told the clerk that I had read about Princess Prizes both on the mini screen and on the Princess portal and I never read anything about a $10 per day charge.  Did I miss something or have others made the same mistake? The clerk hesitated, then handed me the corrected bill and asked if I needed anything else. That spoke volumes. Princess has a pretty good product, why would they tarnish that image by scamming passengers into buying worthless services?  I'm guessing the answer is unmitigated greed, and if they're so obviously trying to trick people into parting with their travel dollars, where else are they cutting corners?  I'll still cruise with Princess but my opinion of them as a company has taken a hit.  The only reason why I'm stopping short of not endorsing them is because I suspect that the other cruise lines have their own unsavory strategies for enhancing revenues.  Caveat emptor.

The afternoon was spent exploring the ship and getting in steps and before long the restaurants opened for dinner.  There's three restaurants on the ship, in addition to the specialty restaurants that charge a premium of $25 - $40.  For the general restaurants, the menus are all the same and the decors are similar so there's no real advantage over another, at least from what I could see. 

I had reservations and I queued up with the rest but when it was my turn at the podium I was politely told that I had to use the door on the other side of the ship.  Odd, but okay. Later, when a slightly chewed meatball lodged in a throat constricted by ice water and I needed room temperature water fast, I actually had to go stand by the waiters station to get some response. 

The awkwardness of solo dining was offset by the close proximity of the tables.  When there are people sitting within arms reach of you and you plan on spending the next hour or so next to them, it's awkward not to strike up a converation and I found myself carrying on multiple conversations simultaneously.  Everyone I've met is anxious to talk about their journeys, their views, their lives as am I.  I'm finding though that, as conversations happen, people are so focused on sharing their stories that it impairs their listening to others' stories. It's a strong urge to share life stories with these strangers but one of my challenges is too supress a lot of my sharing and spend more time listening, truly listening, to their stories. People really are fascinating and it seems those who travel are even more so.

I wanted to enjoy a brandy after dinner and before the evening show of "Tribute to ABBA" (sadly, it was uninspiring) so I returned to my cabin to break open the bottle I brought.  Now, it is a no-no to bring spirits aboard a cruise ship - it cuts too deeply into the profits to be had from exhorbitant pricing - and they check for such contraband.  The cruise lines though do allow you to bring a bottle of wine aboard, presumably, to have a private celebration as we leave port or for your first dinner on ship, although you'll pay a corkage fee of you bring it to the restaurant. So I took one of my unused claret bottles, filled it with brandy, corked it, and put an Oro Creek Vineyards label on it.  $15 a shot, maybe 24 shots in a bottle, I just saved myself over $350. It also provides a good comparison of how ridiculously expensive their pricing is.  And, again, I'm not bashing Princess because it seems all the cruise lines do it.  Why?  Because they can.

It is dawning on me that this is going to be a bit different from my previous travel journals because this is a different kind of trip. With so few port days (5) and so many sea days (16) the focus truly is on the journey rather than the destination even though we'll be visiting some unique and dramatic places. 

Day Rating: 7

Tuesday, October 10, 2023 - Westward Bearing

The skies were turning gray just before sunset last night and even though we've not hit rain, the seas have kicked up considerably. The intensity is nothing like the Drake but still I'm surprised and how much rocking and rolling we're doing for such a large ship, although being on deck 15 probably exacerbates any ocean motion.

I haven't established a routine yet as yesterday's didn't work so well.  Morning room service is out, waiting until 6:30 for tea just doesn't work for me, besides, without the lox, cream cheese and bagel, what's the purpose? Also, a soak in the morning is a great way to energize the body and soul for the day but I checked at the thermal spa yesterday and they wanted $300 (plus 16% gratuity) for access, tempting but maybe there's an alternative. 

Just a couple of decks up, at the bow, there is the "Hollywood Pool & Conservatory". I haven't seen a relaxing, serene, adult area on a ship done as nicely as this. The area is covered in glass so you're sheltered from the wind but you're getting natural light.  The pool is big enough to do laps and there's two hot tubs.  Cabanas and chaise lounges line the perimeter and there are large topiary trees and sculptures dispersed throughout.  Princess has created a soothing environment - and maybe a great way to start the day.

So, today, I walked up to deck 16 and got my tea at a much more agreeable 3:00 am.  After that I broke out the swim trunks, put on a robe, and walked up to the sanctuary. I had to go out on deck to get there and I was treated to an early morning celestial display as the moon and the Venus teamed up in the southeast. Tomorrow I'll bring one of the cameras and hopefully get a good shot.

The conservatory and pool were bathed in soft blue light and as my eyes adjusted I realized there were people already there.  What did they do, sleep there? There weren't many, maybe six and only one in the pool, but still I was surprised. The water was sloshing pretty strongly but the hot tubs were netted over (I was told they add sanitizers then net the tubs until they stabilize) so I went for a swim. It was perfect. I stepped right in without hesitation, the temperature was perfect so no need to adjust. The glass ceiling provided a way to see when I was approaching the end of the pool while doing the backstroke. The knees have been getting beat up so the lower stress on joints was welcome, plus, I could work on muscle groups I'd be using while snorkeling next week. I may have found my start-of-the-day routine for the duration.

Yesterday's shopping event is behind us and I suspect the next will be on Saturday, the day after we leave Honolulu.  But still there are trinkets to gather, raffles to enter, and enrichment programs to participate in or listen to.

After collecting bling du jour, I listened to Susan Beard's presentation on Hawai'ian history. I dont know her credentials and it corroborated what I had gleaned from the research - although it seemed she maybe soft-stepped a bit on the details of how the Kingdom was lost and the role of some unsavory US citizens in it.

I decided to have lunch in the Alegro dining room at the aft. The waiters were polite, except for the gruff Romanian, but the service was painfully slow - or, rather, the kitchen was slow because very few people were being served anything other than bread. I did get a vibe though, same as yesterday, that they dealt with the solo guests because they had to. Maybe my imagination, maybe not.

Time for some sunset photos. I went up top with plenty of time to spare and scouted sites on decks 16, 17, 18, and 19. For tonight, with the setting sun off our starboard bow, the walkway wing on deck 17 was the best.  Surprisingly, no one was there. I chose the best spot for photos and waited.  In photography, like so many other things, patience is one of your most valuable assets. As the moment arrived, others started gathering and soon I was flanked by a young German man and, Rose, a retired professor from University of Colorado (my alma mater). We all chit-chatted and snapped photos as day morphed into night. I've found, well, it seems, that the most interesting people and conversations appear while pursuing interests that you generally enjoy.

I decided to forego the Captain's Champagne Waterfall in the Piazza.  I remembered my rule for surviving crowded places - Go where they ain't. With everyone queued up for their glass of champagne, two or more if they played it right, I had a peaceful dinner in the Marketplace - polenta, braised pork and something green.  What's there not to like? I actually enjoyed my dinner much more than my lunch.

There was an elderly couple a few tables over, they both had walkers and I couldn't tell if they were talking loud becaue they're both hard of hearing or if it was because of the argument they were having. The man wanted to go back to the cabin, the woman wanted to stay.  Pretty heavy stuff. The man was cussing and loudly berating his wife, saying she'd never make it back to the cabin.  The woman steadfastly refused to budge. You couldn't help but feel bad for them.  Was that what their miserable life was all about? Eventually the man gave up and shuffled down to his cabin, muttering and cursing. Sad.

I grabbed a couple of cookies to go with my morning tea and meandered down to my cabin.  As I approached, the other show dropped. Just down the hall from my cabin, Depchai was trying to help the woman from the Marketplace, she was confused, disoriented, sobbing.  Her husband was right, she could not find her way back to the cabin. She didn't have her Medallion (forgot it in the room) which would have made it easy to guide her.  Maybe not such a nice cruise for her and her husband.  Later, Depchai told me that he and his co-workers are seeing more people on board who opt for a ship instead of a nursing home because it's cheaper. That's very disconcerting for a number of reasons.

Tonight, around midnight, we'll reach the mid-point of the first leg of this four-leg journey. This all feels very, very good and so far re-positioning cruises get two big thumbs up from me.  The best part - it's only just begun!

Day Rating: 8

Wednesday, October 11, 2023 - Finding My Way
Got sleep last night, how much, I'm not really sure.  But with ups and downs and another time shift, random noises, and a desire to not miss a thing, it was insufficient.  No worries though, I can nap if my batteries get low. I did have a plan for charging those batteries in the early morning hours and it started with a few cups of Earl Grey.

I saw that beautiful, near conjunction between the sliver moon and Venus yesterday morning off the port stern and when I went for my morning swim I brought a camera to capture it today.  Venus was shining brightly but the moon was low in the sky and shrouded by a cloud bank on the horizon. Maybe tomorrow.

The Hollywood Conservatory was completely empty this morning and that gave me a chance to grab a walk-around video and to test out the underwater camera.  I can see some of the problems I'll be having with it, the biggest being it will be hard to maneuver underwater using only one arm as the other needs to hold that camera steady. Tomorrow, I'll bring the mask and see if I can rig something up - a mask with a camera mount, which seemed an inferior solution at the time I bought, is looking a bit more attractive now.

After my swim and cool down, it was down to the cabin for a change and then back to the stern on Deck 17 at 6:00 to catch the sunrise. Rose, the woman from sunset last night, was there along with a couple who were also at the rail last night. I took several shots, most of which will get tossed, but things were changing so quickly you never knew when something special would appear.  Lens changes didn't help so tomorrow I'll bring both bodies, maybe even the 600. everyone seemed impressed with my ability to identify Venus but the thing was so damn bright it could be nothing else - it was still visible in the sky even after the sun had risen. It reminded me of Cook's first trip to Tahiti on the HMS Endeavour to, amongst other things, record the transit of Venus which would provide a critical piece of information to enhance the accuracy of navigation.

Then it was back to the cabin to jettison the camera gear and back upstairs for breakfast - get those steps in. I've been to the restaurants twice now and with the exception of meeting Arby and Belinda I'm a bit put off by them.  The food, although nicely presented, really hasn't been special and the service I'd call sub-standard for a restaurant, much less for a cruise.  I believe the reason, or at least a contributing factor, is that I'm a solo diner. We probably don't tip as much and it's nearly the same amount of work as if there were a couple at the table. 

Also, the waiters love to schmooze the ladies while also not neglecting the husbands. Single travelers just don't fit into their repertoire. The reason doesn't matter though, I just feel uncomfortable there, so most of my meals will probably be taken at the Marketplace or the nearby Noodle Bar or Burger Bar - all plenty good enough.

After breakfast, it was back to the cabin for a shower and relaxation which incuded some writing and watching the Wake Show - a rundown of events and changes for the day. I did a quick sortie to get the bling du jour then a return to the cabin where I saw birds off the bow.  Birds, and we're just over midway to Hawai'i! There were two adults and an adolescent and they stayed with us quite a while before flying off. Strange. They loooked too small to be pelagic SPELLING but I could not identify them at the moment - maybe after I review the photos. Got a bit hungry around noon and went up to the Burger Bar to get one to go. Great burger that I enjoyed in my cabin while watching rainbows dance off the stern.

I decided I needed an energy boost so I went to afternoon tea in the Concerto dining room.  It was pleasant enough but I made the mistake of requesting a solo table instead of a group solo.  I think I would've enjoyed some conversation over tea so tomorrow I'll enable that tomorrow.

After an afternoon of writing - I really should have brought a device to review photos in bulk - it was time for the sunset photo shoot with the sun setting at 6:18 ship time, tomorrow it jumps to 6:52 a big leap due to our WSW heading.
I completed my Sea Days Schedule with a sunset photo shoot, a light dinner, and limping my way to my 10,000 steps - but just barely.  I really have to lay off the stairs, at least going up.  Maybe tomorrow I'll increase my swim time - good exercise, less joint stress.

So the plan for Sea Days looks something like this:

Tea from the coffee station
A swim
Sunrise Photo
Breakfast
Shower
Events of interest (bling du jour), writing, planning, and napping.
Lunch in the cabin or in the Marketplace
Events of interest, writing, planning, napping
Afternoon Tea with a group
Sunset Photo
Light Dinner in Marketplace - grab two cookies for AM
Evenings - Open

I think it's a good start - we'll see how well it works!

Day Rating: 8

Thursday, October 12, 2023 - Calm
An early rise as usual. A bit too early so I took the time to review yesterday's shore excursions presentation from Susan Beard.  Princess posts recordings of the talks overnight so that helps to not miss important information. Susan talked about visiting the USS Arizona Memorial and  the USS Missouri.  Maybe too many restrictions for me - no backpacks, no purses, tickets are limited, must be on time, blah, blah, blah. She ran down the other tour offerings to the North Shore, Diamond Head, the natural beauty of the Pali coast to the east. There are a lot of offerings but all seem pretty pricey - $79.95 for a Hop On Hop Off; a trip to the Polynesian Cultural Center - $194.95; a traditional luau with dancing and cultural performace - $299.95, but they'll knock off $20 if you're under 10; and if you want a car and driver for the day - $2,219.95. My original plan was to go with local offerings but it looks like that might also be pricey and might require cash which I'd like to preserve.  Too many unknowns and uncertainties to make a solid plan so I think I might let fate decide what happens on the Honolulu port call but I'll be prepared with camera and snorkel gear.
But that's all for tomorrow.  Today looks like a subdued day aboard ship as far as the Princess offerings.  People will have their plans and strategies for going ashore and I'll be chatting with them to see if I can gain any insights from the power of the collective mind.
I went through my new routine and during sunrise I chatted with my fellow "Sol Mates" about strategies. Rose, who'd been to Waikiki before was going to get to the HOHO and go from there.  Like me, she believed she could get a better price than the $79.95 that Princess was charging, but maybe that price included getting to the bus. Another, who was traveling with her husband and another couple, rented cars online before we set sail for Honolulu, Papeete, and Pago Pago.  Smart.  And a great example of how traveling as a group opens more opportunities.
Surprisingly, what I found is that, unless someone has a military background, they're taking a pass on the USS Arizona Memorial.  Like me, no one wanted to be subjected to the inability to bring anything other than a camera, and the entire regimented nature of the tour which, it seemed would take the better part of the day - even if you could get tickets on short notice which, according to Susan Beard, was a challenge at best. I'll talk with others today, maybe even join a cluster. Some ideas might pop at afternoon tea.
Around 9:00 AM there was the first ship-wide call that will probably be heard again before the trip ends, a call for the Medical Response Team one of the hot tubs on deck 17, port side, zone 3. That would put it in the conservatory or out on deck, midship. I'd heard from others such a call goes out every few days on these long cruises and that body bags are often seen being rolled ashore when we port. Reality can be so rude. Then again, we should all be so lucky to leave this world doing what brings us pleasure.
I was late to the Hawaiian Ambassadors' presentation but I stood in the entrance to the theatre to hear them. Aolani and Tiana are two wonderful ladies who have been sharing Hawai'ian traditional culture and arts during the cruise with the passengers.  Today, they were giving a talk about some of their favorite sites in and around Honolulu. They started with a beautiful and soothing melodic chant in their native tongue. They were not as polished as Susan and there was considerable overlap with Susan's presentation from the previous day. Seeing and hearing them though, I felt a wave of sadness wash over me.  Here was a fearless race of people who did things thousands of years ago that few would even consider today despite the advances in technology. They built a Kingdom, only to have it wrested from them after a couple hundred years. And still, these two ladies exhibited grace and sincerity in their presentation. To be honest, I don't know that I could do the same.
Later in the afternoon it was time for tea, of course. I have to say, I like the little energy boost it gives.  I opted for a group table and, I have to say, I liked the concept.  There is a flaw in it though - the experience can be ruined by just one asshole . . . and he was sitting at my table. He might be the first Canadian I did not immediately like. No, as I think about it, he is the first Canadian I did not immediately like. He was big, like he had to sit so far out from the table he impaired traffic. It was just him and I at first and he started the conversation with, "I hate cruising." That should have been my clue to excuse myself and re-enter the restaurant requesting a different or solo table. But I stayed.
He said he didn't like cruising because his wife fell and broke her arm on their last cruise.  They're only taking this one because it was their compensation. About that time, his wife came waddling up - I suspect she broke her arm overloading her plate/plates at the feed trough and trying to balance it/them on said arm. An Australian woman was seated, soon followed by a couple from Sandwich, Illinois - a town the train used to pass through when I was first a college student in Illinois. I got to know very little about them because this guy dominated the conversation with his opinions whenever someone tried to change the topic. He would say things like Havana is so great but YOU can't go there because you're American.  And his wife, apparently lacking in awareness, self or otherwise, blindly supported him by interjecting comments whenever he came up for air.
Maybe this guy was a disciple of the Bernerd School of Thought and was enjoying his complaining, if so, I might have to re-think my opinion of Bernerd's philosophy. Anyway, after giving him what I thought was a fair chance, I'd pretty much had enough of this boor/bore/boar so I pulled out the Canadian-Cuban card just to yank his chain - and he played beautifully into it. I told him I wasn't surprised that he loved Havana, after all, his leader was half Cuban - referring to the right-wing conspiracy theory that the Canadian leader is the love child of Fidel Castro and Trudeau's mom. Both he and his wife took the bait and started sputtering so I got a two'fer on that one.
Tea usually lasts an hour but I left after 30 minutes and I'm surprised the others didn't do the same.  Fortunately, they're getting off in Honolulu so I'll give afternoon tea group seating a try again. Actually, even though I didn't get to learn more about the other people and their strategies for tomorrow, it was a bit of fun.
Dinner was peaceful and nondescript and even the sunset seemed to lack vigor tonight but it attracted the largest crowd yet. Tomorrow, several passengers will disembark and of the remaining most of them will see sunset from the shore. After that as we head south after leaving Honolulu on Saturday, sunrises will be on the port and sunsets will be starboard - at least for the next few days.

Day Rating: 8

Friday, October 13, 2023 - Hawai'i
Hawai'i is the northernmost island grouping in Polynesia and, except for New Zealand, it's the last to have been populated through the Polynesian migration when the first groep of Polynesians arrived in Hawaii about 1500 years ago, circa 300-500 AD. Geologically, the islands exhibit the classic march of volcanic activity in the South Pacific with the older, dormant volcanoes to the west and newer volcanoes, some still forming, in the east. The volcanic activity that created the Hawaiian archipelgo began about 80 million years ago and it has created the more than 120 Hawaiian islands but the largest and most well known, from oldest to newest are Niihau, Kauai, Oahu, Molokai, Lanai, Maui, Kahoolawe, and Hawai'i, or the Big Island, where volcanic activity continues to grow the island as magma flows through the rupture, surfaces, and cools. 

A side note: you sometimes see an "akina", a backwords-looking apostrophe, in the written Hawaiian language.  It is often used to seperate the same letter, as in Hawai'i, and it's pronounciation is like a interjecting a hiccup between the letters.

The immensity of this volcanic activity cannot be understated. Although lacking the explosive energy of a Krakatoa or Tonga event, the rift has been spewing lava and creating real estate in the Pacific on a more or less continuous basis for over 80 million years. And it's not just a matter of duration. What is the tallest mountain on the planet?  Everest?  Nope. Mauna Kea, the dormant, central volcano of the Big Island. When measured from the sea floor, Mauna Kea is another 4,447 feet taller than Mt. Everest.  It takes a bit of energy to push that much rock that high.

The social history of Hawaii has been no less dramatic. The first group of Polynesians arrived around 300-500 AD from the Marquesas. But what was to become, for a short time anyway, the dominant group began their migration only about 800 years ago - and it was from that migration that the future rulers of the Kingdom of Hawaii emerged. Coming from the southeast, they landed on the Big Island, and established settlements along the coast.  As more immigrants arrived, more settlements, ruled by chieftains, were created and they spread to the nearby islands in the group.  As those settlements grew inevitable conflict followed as neighboring villages competed for resources or perhaps one village just decided to plunder another.

Perhaps this says a lot about humans in general, and it's not very flattering.  Here is a group of people with a common ancestry, the same blood, who made settlements in a new land devoid of any competion - they could enjoy whatever nature provided. The history of that final migration is only a few generations old and it is engrained in their oral and dance histories so, even today, it is very much alive. In other words, there's a lot that bound those people together, socially, biologically, linguisticly, culturally - and still they fought amongst each other to the ultimate detriment of all.

The first ruler of Hawai'i, King Kamehameha I, was born on the Big Island in 1758, just a few years before the United States became a nation. Supposedly, a prophecy proclaimed that a great ruler would be born when a light in the sky with feathers like a bird flies in the night. Haley's Comet did one of it's regular fly-bys of Earth in 1758. The literal king-makers on the Big Island saw an opportunity and word went out that a great chief had been born and he will rule over not only all of the island of Hawai'i but over all of the islands in the archipelago as he considered them all Hawai'i.  Appropriation by decree, or at least an attempt to do so.

Prophecy be damned, the other chieftains weren't on board with this plan but after surviving asassination threats as a child, Kamehameha set out to conquer the chieftains on the Big Island and one by one they fell. By the time Captain Cook stopped on the north shore of the Big Island and the two met, Kamehameha ruled over all of it and he was starting to extend his reach to the nearby small islands. But Cook was not the only westerner to visit the Hawaiian Islands.  The islands, especially the excellent port at Honolulu on O'ahu, were important stops for the whaling trade and the islanders traded with the whalers who brought iron, guns, cannon, Jesus, and disease to the islands - all of which would have a profound affect on the trajectory of the young kingdom.

By 1790, Kamehameha conquered the chieftains of Maui and he moved the capital of his kingdom to Lahaina. From there, he set his sights on O'ahu, which, due to superior firepower (cannons), fell in 1795 in the battle of Nu'uana Pali. With that, Kamehameha was recognized as the King of the Hawaiian Islands which he ruled over until his death in 1819. Considered a wise, but maybe an overly ambitious leader, some of his laws were incorporated into the Hawai'ian State Constitution.

His son, Kamehameha II, was very Westernized and was affected by the missionaries who established themselves on the islands. He abolished taboos that formed some of the social fabric of the nation and that opened the door for the rapid adoption of Christianity. In 1824, Kamehameha II and his wife, as heads of state, went to England where, unfortunately, they contracted measles and died en route back to their homeland.

The king's younger brother became ruler at the age of 10.  Although, given his age, it's a legitimate question to ask who was making the decisions affecting the kingdom. It's not clear who was making decisions of governance but it definitely abandoned many traditional ways in favor of Western interests. Land ownership was opened to Westerners, usually large food producing corporations, and during Kamehameha III's rule the first sugar and pineapple plantations appeared. He also moved the capital to Honolulu where, due to it's harbor, it was easier to interact with foreigners from both the East and the West. He ruled until 1854 when the grandson of Kamehameha I succeeded him. Kamehameha IV ruled for 9 years and he became noted for advancing both agriculture and healthcare on the islands. 

Another grandson, Kamehameha V succeeded him and also ruled for 9 years but he was a strong advocate for a return to the traditional ways and values. Ironically, he died in 1872 without naming a successor and as a result, the legislature, yes, the Kingdom had become that Westernized, appointed his successor - the first Hawaiian King who was not a direct descendant of Kamehameha I.

William Charles Lunalilo's reign from 1873-1874 was a disaster. During his 13 months as King before he died of a pulmonary infection, he disbanded the army, deeming them unreliable. 

The legislature then elected David Kalakaua to succeed him and, in addition to expanding international trade, he brought back and highlighted some of the tradional arts. But the legislature had grown powerful.  In 1887, regardless of his intentions and accomplishments, the legislature, aided by missionaries and business leaders, rewrote the constitution and essentially neutered the king. He died in California in 1891.

Lili 'Uokalani was the last monarch of the Kingdom of Hawai'i and she was a descendant of Kamehameha I, but not a direct descendant. Her reign ended in 1893 when the "Committee of Safety", a sordid group at best, overthrew her and placed her under house arrest. She could have raised an army to fight the overthrow but to avoid spilling the blood of her countrymen she capitulated.  The kingdom that was built by strength and violence just 200 years ago was no more, destroyed not by bloodshed but by the maneuvers of a consortium of business and government advancing their own interests.

From that point on, the native Hawai'ians' fate was not their own.  In 1898 it became a Territory of the United States and then in 1959 it became the 50th and newest state in the Union.

We're scheduled to dock at 7:00 AM and with the sun rising at 6:26 we should have some nice views pulling into the harbor, or at least so I thought.  It was still dark when we rounded Diamond Head and you knew it was there but couldn't see it. The Hawaiians named it Le'ahi, which means "brow of the tuna". I find it curious that "ahi" is the Japanese word for tune as well, but no time to go down that rabbit hole. The British sailors who first saw it thought it was a mountain of diamonds because the calcite on the slopes reflected sunlight making the dormant volcanic cone shimmer white, so their maps and charts starting displaying "Diamond Head".

Honolulu surprised me. It was not as big as I thought and there's an eclectic mix of architecture from the shiny new steel and glass towers, many more just down the coast at Waikiki, to the often dilapidated colonial - even the iconic Aloha Tower is closed to access, although being on the grounds of one of Hawaii's many universities, you can walk right up to it and smell the urine around its base.  It seems unviersities attract the homeless as students are more inclined to give, at least that's the perception. In comparing it to something I'm much more familiar with, Tucson has about the same population and same architectural vibe (eclectic, old and new) and the island of Oahu has about the same population as Pima County, Arizona. And like Tucson, the university, or universities in the case of Honolulu, exert a noticeable influence in the culture.

The other similarity is the influence of the military on the community.  The military is huge in Honolulu.  Not only is there the constant reminder of the wreck settled into the mud of Battleship Row of what was and which could be again without constant vigilence, but in the air warplanes are constantly landing or taking off. To be honest though, I don't know how much of that is routine and how much is related to a defensive posture as the world gets further and further embroiled in territorial conflicts.

But my challenges are much simpler. I did not have a plan here so I was in no hurry and I avoided the first wave of people who wanted to disembark. Once I got ashore, I headed for the Aloha tower, thinking I'd find tour barkers along the way.  Crickets. There were some students milling about but that was it.  Maybe I was just too early.  I wandered over to a Disney ship that was already in port and there were no barkers there either, just porters and taxis. This was not anticipated in my "no plan" plan. Just keep walking.

The transit system is very good, lots of stops and both busses and signage are very clear about which route goes why.  I wouldn't have any hesitation using it and I thought about popping in to an ABC store (Hawaii's convenience store of choice) and buying a bus pass but then maybe when I got off the bus I'd just be wandering about aimlessly in a different part of the island. There had to be a better way.

When I left the ship, I was loaded for bear.  I had both camera bodies, all three lenses and the GoPro knockoff. As well as water, first aid kit, passport, rain hood for the backpack - I didn't care if I got wet. It was too much. The heat and humidity was rising. I needed to reset.  Even though it was a bit of a trek to get back on board, I went back to the port area, and jumped through all the hoops to get back on board.  One of the staff jokingly asked if I was done with Oahu already.  I smiled and said, no, this is what happens when you're a stupid tourist. He laughed wholeheartedly and high-fived me.  I think he appreciated my honesty.

Back in the cabin, I drank a bottle of water and jettisoned everything. I studied the area and looked more closely at Visit-a-City and Viator offerings - many activities today were sold out. Anything the ship was offering was either stupidly expensive or long sold out. I did notice a small marina east of downtown, on the way to Waikiki Beach, about 30 minutes away.  I focused on that area of the map and found a 2-hour, Hawaiian Greenback Turtle snorkel tour that left in an hour - and they, supposedly, still had availability. Perfect. Rather than secure my spot online, I decided to go with the personal touch.  I've found that even if something is "sold out" a vendor will often find a way to work you in, besides, you don't have to deal with a hassle to get money back if it is sold out, which is sometimes what you get, especially if going through a third party.

I jumped into my swim trunks and lightest swim shirt, grabbed the GoPro wannabe, my wallet, and fob and stuffed them along with my mask into my little drybag and headed out on Ala Moana Blvd., on my way to Waikiki. I found Living Ocean's boat at dock B, berth 1 and the skipper was just finishing his lunch.  We joked a bit, I asked if he had a spot for a snorkeler on the 12:30 run and he gave me a thumbs up and directed me to the website and to sign the waiver. For $75 plus tax, my day, which was looking like a bust, was suddenly looking pretty good.

Everyone put their shoes in a bin, the skipper checked waivers, and the 30 or so of us took our seats.  The coolers were well-provisioned with drinks and snacks and I grabbed a can of a Hawaiian-made soda that tasted sweet, but tropical. We pulled out of the harbor and headed down the Waikiki coast toward Diamond Head. I can see why Waikiki Beach is so famous and popular.  The waves break quite a ways off shore and they come gently rolling in to the broad, sandy beach. They wave will take you all the way to shore, or at least to where you can easily stand.  A really perfect place for a novice surfers.

But we were aiming for a spot  beyond the break where there are a series of five trenches, kind of like your oustretched hand.  There's caves and coral down there and that's where the Greenback's love to hang out. I suspect the trenches are collapsed lava tubes from when Le'ahi was active.  The collapsed tube created shallow caves perfect for the turtles to hide in even though they can weigh as much as 400 lbs.

Everyone suited up - fins, mask, snorkel and vest - and one by one we got in the water while two guides on short paddle boards directed us. I made the mistake of blowing some air into the vest, forgetting that I'm already pretty buoyant in salt water. Even though I cleared the air later, it was still difficult to dive much below the surface. Being able to go a little deeper would have been nice because the water was not terribly clear and the skies a bit cloudy so we didn't get good, strong sunlight penetrating the surface to get the colors to pop on the fish and turtles.  The reef was bleached, no surprise given it's proximity to one of the best-known beaches in the world, so that created an austere setting but the fish and turtles didn't seem to mind it a bit. 

The turtles are accustomed to people so they're not afraid of us.  Because they're a protected species, we are expected to keep a distance from the turtles, ideally about 10 feet.  The turtles though, sometimes have other ideas. One came up under me looking for a back rub from my fins.  When my fin first touched that shell, I thought I'd hit a coral head, or a shark bumped into me. I quickly looked down and the turtle rose in front of me to get some air at the surface. We were out there the full two hours and towards the end, both my legs and stomach muscles were beginning to cramp so I was ready. Living Ocean does a great job.

The walk back was a little stiff at first but the legs loosened up quick enough.  As I headed back to the ship I was thinking about the people aboard the boat.  They were a range of ages, some couples, some families, a few other solos.  It made me realize that during the week I'd gotten used to seeing mostly older people on the Majestic Princess, except for most of the staff and vendors.  It was nice to see a range of people again.

Back aboard, I was more hungry than tired so I went directly to the burger bar and while they were grilling up one for me I ordered a Grolsch from the adjacent bar and then grabbed a table by the window. Burger and beer with an ocean view after spending the afternoon swimming with sea turtles. I wrapped up the day with some photos, texts and calls before I go dark until Thursday. For an inauspecious start, I'd say the day turned out pretty well.

Day Rating: 8

Saturday, October 14, 2023

I passed out last night while trying to review the Turtle Videos. Yesterday was a physically demanding day - I'd walked over 16,000 steps in addition to the two hours of swimming and treading water in the ocean.  When I awoke it was after midnight and we were well under way. I'll be back on my Sea Days routine today, although with a more relaxed regimen that yesterday - my body needs to do some repair. It all hurts - bones, mucles, skin.

We won't see land again until Monday when we pass Tabuaeran (Fanning) Island near the midpoint of this second leg of the journey and just before we cross the Equator and enter the South Pacific.

We're on a southerly heading but we'll have to arc to the east a bit to hit Moorea. As such, for now, all the morning celestial activity is, literally, right out my door. Venus was already several degrees above the horizon when I went out on the balcony and I saw the strangest of sights. 

There appeared a point of light, bright but not as bright as Venus, to the right of the planet and it moved toward it, at least from my perspective.  The trajectory of the light was near horizontal with a slight downward arc. Then it disappeared.  There were no red and green lights to identify it as a commercial aircraft and no strobe, the light maintained the same intensity until it blinked out. While I was pondering what that light might be, there appeared another.  About 30 seconds later, another.  And another after that.  The time interval was not regular and the trajectories were similar but not exactly the same.  I've seen strings of StarLink satellites several times from my home, and these were not them, at least they didn't look like the string of Starlink pearls I've seen darting across the sky. Still, my best guess is that it's a constellation of satellites reflecting light from the sun which is only a couple hours from rising - 6:24 am today, and I'll have a great view from my cabin. Sorry Sol Mates.

I also didn't swim this morning, the body needs to rest.  And, for the first time on this cruise, I did not make my 10k target. Tomorrow I'll feel much stronger, I'm sure. It was just an odd day. I've heard that the New Moon affects some people just as the Full Moon, maybe there's something to that. I even paused one of my walks and sat down to watch the afternoon movie on deck. Never did that before.

The big event of the day occurred at dinner and reminded me that cruising is not always pleasant.  I plated my food and picked an open table by the window - a rare thing.  As I started to eat I looked more closely at the man with his back to me at the next table. He was big, he was black, he was flashing 6 inches of butt crack. Now I know why the table was empty.  The funniest part, his wife came over and put her plate down next to his, walked away, then came back directly and sat down next to him . . . and never said a thing about his exposure.  At least I was doing a favor for the guy at the table behind me.

I attempted some reading in the evening but it didn't last long.  Tomorrow, the body will be better.  The day after extreme exercise is pain, but the day after is near bliss, you can almost feel those new muscle fibers ready to be tested.

Day Rating: 7

Sunday, October 15, 2023 - Social Butterfly

My day started late late, the result of maybe the best sleep on the cruise. Venus was already high in the sky when I went up for morning tea. I awoke around midnight when the deck crew started stacking lounge chairs after the movie but I was able to get back to sleep. What a rare treat.  Really. I guess it was an indication of how low I ran the batteries on Friday.

There was a gentleman on his iPad having coffee and, at first, we respected the silence of the morning. After a while though, a question, an answer, a conversation. He's a retired Delta pilot from Minnesota and he has some cruise experience, but not a lot. When you can fly for free, despite the airlines' shortcomings, it makes flying much more attractive. Captain Nick was lamenting how, as a standby airline employee back in "the old days", you'd be disappointed if you didn't get First Class seats. Now, he and his wife plan on arriving the day before if they have to travel for an event.  So not even retired employees are exempt from airline service woes.

Capt. Nick was not topped off with braggadocio like the Capt. Phil I met on the plane flying from Buenos Aires earlier in the year, but to be fair, Capt. Nick, unlike Capt. Phil, was not topped off with bourbon. Capt. Nick was in the Navy and he was stationed at McMurdo for two years, but he seemed to have not enjoyed his time there.  I asked him if the little nuclear reactor was was still there when he was there.  He laughed.  What a fiasco that was he said.  Even after they shut it down he said the thing spewed radioactivity and everyone kept a healthy distance. However, the alternative was no better. McMurdo's water came from snow melt back then, probably still does. The camp relied on diesel generators for electricity and he said if you hels a glass up to the light you'd see particles of soot floating in it and a thin oil slick on top.  Ahhh, the good old days.  Bottoms up!

Capt. Nick had several stories from Antarctica. When he was stationed there, the staff were allowed a call every two weeks via their radio sytem. Rather than divulge phone numbers to the operators, a recipient phone number was assigned a code and the caller provided the operator with that code to make the connection. The funny thing, according to Capt. Nick, was that the calls all followed pretty much the same script: Hi. How are you?  How's the kids? Is everything OK? Is there any news? And from the other end: We miss you.  How cold is it? When are you coming home? He said he was once talking for 10 minutes until the woman mentioned the pool needed to be drained. Capt. Nick didn't have a pool - not in Minnesota. He had been talking with someone else's wife and neither was the wiser.

Capt. Nick lit up when I told I was married and enjoyed traveling with my wife but this time it I was traveling solo. I said that there's things that I want to do that either don't interest my wife or she doesn't have time for. I added that she's a bit younger than me and I hear footsteps so I've got to do these things now while I'm still able.  And here I am. He lightened more and explained his smile, "I am so happy to hear you say that." He's in a similar situation with his wife and they have been having conversations similar to Mary Jane's and mine before my solo trips this year. To travel solo amongst mostly pairs and groups is a bit awkward at times but I think the realization that our situations were not unique unto ourselves, and most likely shared by many others, bolstered both our fortitudes.

From there I caught the sunrise from the balcony then headed up for the morning swim.  I'd never been up there that late before and even though the spas weren't open yet, the pool had three swimmers and a fourth was doable but a little tight.  I jumped in just left of center and started down the pool and I swear, the fat Chinese woman who was bobbing along on the left side, actually moved closer to center after I jumped in.  Isn't that what the Chinese are doing in the seas around the Philippines and Vietnam, asserting themselves where common manners, and common sense, and in the case of the country, International Law, are disregarded entirely? Maybe it's in their DNA, who knows?  Anyway, after bumping each other a few times, letting her know I won't be intimidated, it looked like the pool crew was removing the netting from the spa and at 7:00 I switched. It wasn't long before four other guys joined me and in the other spa five Asian travelers were enjoying their waters.  It was 7:15.

The first in the pool with me was a gentleman from Perth, Australia and we were discussig cruises and destinations, light conversation.  Almost immediately, an American jumped in and while he wasn't a bad guy, he dominated the conversation like the Canadian at tea the other day. Entirely lacking in self-awareness.  I mentioned Argentina and started extolling its virtues to the man from Perth, but Capt. America had also been there and it had an impact on him similar to mine.  He loved the place and went on a 10-minute monologue.  

During that time, the third man came in, white as a sheet.  I hope he watches his time in the spa, it looks like it wouldn't take much to toss his heart into a terminal tailspin. I never heard the man speak all the time we were there.  In addition to having to nearly fight Capt. America for air time, it seemed it was all he could do to keep his body and mind focused on this plane of reality, here, now, lest his spirit fly off to parts unknown, leaving his shriveled body behind.

Just as the man from Perth got a word in saying Dubai was one of the most surprising places he's been to, the fourth man sat down and said, I lived in Dubai for 12 years, I used to work for the Emir. Poor bastard of a man from Perth, he got upstaged again.  Whose Dubai stories would you listen to, the man who lived there for a dozen years and had a direct line to the Emir or the tourist who hung out there for four days and thought it was a pretty cool place?

The gentleman from Dubai did have great stories.  He was invloved in hospitality for the Emir. Now, just to be clear, pretty much every spook I've ever met, especially the seasoned ones, all said they worked in hospitality. Nonetheless, we'll take the man at his word.  In just a few minutes he pulled back the shroud on the Kingdom a bit.  Mr. Perth said he was impressed with the cleanliness of Dubai and that he didn't see any homeless people.  The gentleman from Dubai laughed and said they are there, just well-hidden.  In Dubai, you only see what the Emir wants you to see.  Mr. Perth, still groping for something to legitimize himself with, said that may be so, but they have no unemployment there. He really should've known better than to banter about a country he visited once with a person who lived there for over a decade.  The Emir's man laughed again and he said yes but the "employment" is a joke. He provided an example. He had to have an assistant to copy things for him. The copier was right behind his desk, but instead of spinning around in his chair, he had to give the paper to the assistant who placed the paper in the machine and pressed the button. That was their job. There was talk of six-star hotels and I may have been way off on this because he was a soft-spoken man difficult to hear, but it seemed the Emir's cattle live inside air contioned shelters. I wanted to hear more but I'd already been in the tub quite a while and I didn't want them to have to call a Medical response Team to the spa today.

I've been wearing very few clothes.  Hey, it's the tropics. The other day, after returning from snorkeling, rather than wash the clothes in the sink (I don't know what the previous guest had in there!) I decided to shower twice - once with clothes, and once without.  A little unorthodox. Yep.  A little crude? Perhaps. But my swimming clothes and body were clean. I thought about just putting on dirty clothes before taking a shower for the next few days, but something seemed not right about that so I decided moderately early on a Sunday was a good time to do laundry.  Unfortunately, other travelers decided the same. Of course, with only four washers and four dryers on this deck, it doesn't take much to fill them up. The dryers were still untapped (30 minutes earlier would've been perfect) but the washers were all occupied - although one wasn't moving, it had finished.

I was immediately reminded of college and the rude people who would sometimes let laundry set for hours, or maybe got stoned out and forgot about it entirely.  I hear the same stories from my daughter in college now.  Some things don't change, as evidenced by a presumably full grown adult still playing those games.  But that was college.  What's protocol on a cruise ship? I had no idea.  Not really wanting to touch someone's clothes, clean or not, I decided to wait 15 minutes. For all it mattered, I could've transferred the clothes as soon as I saw them laying still in the washing machine.  The person didn't show.  So I moved their clothes and got my wash going - bachelor style - whites, blacks, colors, jeans, shorts, sleepwear, all in the same batch.

And about 5 or 10 minutes later a woman swept in, and her carefree demeanor vanished when she saw the bag on top of the washer she'd been using was moved to the dryer.  I immediately spoke up and said, "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I waited 15 minutes and then I moved your clothes."  She got indignant and said grimly, "That is not OK." I repeated myself once and said nothing more while she kept repeating, "That is not OK. That is not OK." Until someone came in. Then she stopped abruptly.

You see, I saw what she had in the wash. You know, dirty laundry. Let's just say I know something about this woman's sexual desires and preferences, what she likes to wear to feel sexy, perhaps what her husband likes, their most intimate colors and fabrics. And she knew that I knew and finally realized she probably didn't want to risk me sharing with 3,000 strangers she'd be living with for the next two weeks. Her not knowing me, (I wouldn't embarrass someone like that, at least not without a much better reason) as soon as someone else entered, panic overtook anger and she clammed up. When she left, she said she'd be back at 9:00 to get her clothes from the dryer.  I thanked her.

I sat there shepherding my laundry and for the hour and a half I was there it was as entertaining as any of the programs organized by Princess. It was the watering hole.  The town square. The corner pub. The local barber shop. A steady stream of people came and went and although we all had our distinct personalities, in the laundromat, we were all equal. There was a good-natured fellow from Atlanta who spent his entire working life setting specifications for and making nuts and bolts for some very big companies - all over the world. He was so meticulous, he corrected me when I mis-spoke - twice.  I noted it and thanked him for his diligence and we laughed that he was in the right business. There was a California woman who got the drink package and I couldn't tell if she was drunk from the night before or if she was getting a good start on today's alotment. An Indian gentleman from London who's just down the hall from me came in just to iron his clothes, they were too wrinkled to his liking.  

And then, another Californian, a tall quiet man, who had a speech impediment, possibly the result of a stroke.  He was a Pan Am employee for 21 years. PanAm, Pan American Airways - they pioneered trans-Pacific flight. Setting up or borrowing air fields along the way - island hopping. The history of how that happened is pretty fascinating, but I'll save that for another time.  PanAm created the Trans-Pacific commercial flight market but not only lost the market but the company itself went bankrupt - ending the career of this soft-spoken Californian.  

But the rest of the story is that Pan American Airways, like many other American companies, had an employee pension fund.  And like many other American companies PanAm underfunded their employees pension fund.  Legally. The result was that when the company dissolved, the administration of the pension fund went to some arm of the federal government and after the dust settled and the lawyers paid, he gets a whopping $218 a month for life. I'm not a vocal advocate of workers rights but situations like that should not be allowed to happen. It seemed like he bounced back from it though, we humans tend to be resilient. We talked about investments and he had insights typical of someone who has a sizeable nestegg.

While the Laundromat Gang was present, and after the "Not OK" person had left with her laundry I took a poll on laundromat etiquette. I explained what happened and prefaced it with I really don't know what proper laundromat etiquette is and maybe I overstepped. There were four others in there. Two remained silent, the other two were vocal.  The California woman jumped in first saying that I was being too generous - if it's not moving it's fair game. The Londoner was even more adamant.  He said, first time in the dryer, second time in the trash. And they both said, I'll bet the person was angry when they returned. I nodded in affirmation and they gave a knowing smile at each other - they'd been there before.  What's interesting is that the other two men remained silent. Maybe they felt they were outnumbered, or maybe they just didn't care - First World Problem. I have to say the verdict is out on that one, I hope I don't have to deal with it again.  With the hours that I keep, I shouldn't have to.

I decided to take a pass on the Enrichment Programs, I'll catch them later in the wee morning hours - so convenient that they record those and make them available on demand. I was curious about their Crossing the Equator Ceremony planned for Monday around 10:30 AM.  There is a maritime tradition for sailors crossing the Equator for the first time but I'm not sure what Princess has planned for passengers.  Apparently only a subset of the people who signed up will actually participate - who they make that determination is a guess. The crew is being tight-lipped but with sly grins so whatever they have planned will be entertaining - for them at least. 

You have to sign up to participate in the event and I was intrigued so I queued up to do just that.  A few feet ahead of me was Rose, one of my Sol Mates and when we saw each other she beckoned me up. Since we left Honolulu on a southern bearing, I catch the sunrises from my cabin and Rose catches the sunsets from hers so we haven't seen each other.  She made it to Diamond Head but it was too hot and humid to walk up so she just took photos from the base.  She raved about the bus driver who helped guide her there. It really does seem that the Hawaiians I've met have been genuine friendly and helpful. I know that maybe plays into a stereotype, but maybe also because hospitality (not the CIA kind) is so important to their economy and the peoople here who really on that want visitors to feel welcome.  I'm sure that's not true for every Hawaiian, but it's true for the ones I've met.

At 3:00 it was time for afternoon tea. It's a bit of a lottery so I got to the podium and gave it a spin. I was brought to a table with a Chinese woman and as I sat down she said she had four others coming.  I quickly counted chairs, there were six, so still room for me.  I pointed out that fact and then asked if that was okay.  She replied the other people don't speak English, then admitted two speak English. Reading the body language and looking at the eyes darting around for excuses, it was clear she didn't want me there and maybe didn't want anyone there other than her four friends. It was also clear the staff made a mistake, I should have never been brought to that table. 

So, I withdrew and asked to be seated somewhere else. Within a few minutes five others joined me  - three Kiwis and a couple from Labrador. The Canadians were a bit quiet but the New Zealanders, a couple and the woman's sister were a lively bunch. Andy, does planning and works remotely and performs as a magician. He went into magician lore like I can talk about lichens.  He wore an infectious grin the whole tea that mirrored mine when I'm feeling playful - he doesn't take life seriously all the time, maybe not even most of the time. Have you ever met one of those people that, for reasons unknown, you feel an immediate connection with? That's Andy.

The day ended with towering thunderclouds in the distance and seas that looked as calm as a lake. I went up top to catch tonight's sunset and I couldn't help but reflect again on those Polynesian seafarers. I tried to place myself on their ships, in their minds, to grasp what was important, what fed their faith as they journeyed through this immense ocean.  And I know I've said it before but the faith to commit not only yourself but your family to such an uncertainty must've been astonishingly strong. Faith like that today is rare - no wonder so few today would dare attempt what these people accomplished thousands of years ago.

After a poke bowl and salad for dinner I retired to my cabin and in addition to the usual schedule of events for tomorrow I got an additional notice informing me that I was selected for the Crossing the Equator Ceremony and I was to report on Deck 16 at 10:30 AM sharp. I wonder how many other people will be participating.

This has been my most social day aboard ship yet.  Reflecting back on the people I had conversations with today makes me wobble a bit - for someone inclined to being more of an introvert, this was anything but a normal day.  But I have to admit, even though it had its wrinkles, I enjoyed the people and the day.

Day Rating: 8

Monday, October 16, 2023 - Crossing the Equator

The seas were calm last night but this morning they've kicked up. We are, supposedly, in the doldrums, that strip of water and air a few degrees either side of the equator where if there's winds they're most likely the prevailing westerlies. There are stories of ships being stranded in the doldrums for days as they waited for a wind to sweep them out of there. Sometimes resorting to launching their boats and rowing the ship to better waters. But for us, today, if we had sails, we'd have no problem sailing at all. Later today we will cross the Equator and sail the South Pacific for the duration.

It's odd how a convention, an idea, or rather an idea shared by a collective mind, can create something with the appearance of reality. The Equator. The imaginary line that evenly seperates the north from the south. The senses can't discern it and I'll bet the vast majority can't feel it. But if you tell someone they've just crossed the Equator, whether or not they actually have, they act as though they've been freed.  From what, I do not know - although you can make an argument that the countries of the northern hemisphere regularly threaten to blow each other up on a pretty regular basis and that's a pretty good thing to free oneself of. And today, we celebrate that crossing, we celebrate that very symbolic freeing. But to take it even one more off, the reality is that we won't cross the Equator until 9:30 this evening - 10 hours from when the celebration takes place. Maybe the Matrix nailed it - it's all an illusion, a mass hypnosis.

But reality rears its head from time to time and around 3:00AM, somewhere east of Tabuaeran Island the rains began - the first rains of this cruise other than a passing squall or two maybe. The Princess weather "forecast" is entirely useless. It lets us know the current weather, 82 degrees and raining, which we can pretty much get by walking out on deck. The rains, if they continue, could threaten the Crossing Celebration but my gut says it's on.

And, this time, the gut was correct.  The morning flew by with minimal interactions. I did catch the sunrise, of course, and there were few people on deck. Perhaps yesterday was a social day for everyone and now they're taking it down a notch - or storing energy for the Crossing Celebration.

By mid-morning the weather cleared enough so the risk of rain was negligible. Broken clouds, moderate winds, temps in the 80's.  The celebration was on. The band did a good job of getting the crowd pumped up - they contributed almost as much to the party atmosphere as the alcohol, which was flowing pretty freely despite it not yet being 11:00AM. Deck 16 around the pools was jammed and it was hard to move.  Deck 17, overlooking the carnival, was also filled with revelers who were shoulder to shoulder at the rails and on the stairs as Neptune and his mate, one of the gay staff in drag.  I think there's some kind of regulation that any ship leaving California ports must have at least one drag performance just to keep wokeness alive in our hearts and minds. Really. It was a fun, party atmosphere, but having some guy in a wig, draped in a sheet, with scallop shells over his nipples didn't add much to the party atmosphere for me.

Anyway, the idea of the ceremony is that before before we can be allowed to cross the equator into the southern realms (suspended for a bit the fact that we won't actually cross the equator until much later this evening) those aboard must atone for their transgressions against Neptune. Those transgressors aboard included myself and about 20 other passengers broken up into 4 groups.  

In my group were Nini and Monica, two women from Mexico City. They had excellent English skills and were very friendly, talkative and playful, at one point wedging me between them so they could take selfies. They've been traveling for 2 months straight and love it. I laughed and said they're living my life - and they invited me to join them, it's fun!  I have to say, I can't remember when I saw two people fo full of joy. As we talked more, it turns out they were on the Holland America cruise MJ, Jacki, and Phil were on in April and May! Someone said if you cruise enough you'll eventually meet someone from a previous cruise. Today it happened.  I feel like I've gone through a rite of passage.

About 300 people had applied to participate so some were left out. One of those was a Chinese man who argued at length that he was 4th in line for the sign up, why wasn't he selected? He couldn't understand the concept of randomness - or didn't want to. He wanted to participate and he was wasting the coordinator's time and the timetable, and the risk the smooth flow of the production until he got what he wanted.  The coordinator was eventually forced to capitulate and he signed up the little weasel. The coordinator did the right thing, keep the customer happy.  But in a grander sense, I believe it speaks loudly to the Chinese methods and motivations as displayed on the world stage.  And the answer to that is not capitulation, but a great big middle finger to the face. Many Chinese on vacation are a pain in the ass, as evidenced by my little anecdote, the Chinese whale in the swimming pool, and the real racist at afternoon tea. For those of you who do not know me and happen to be reading this you might be thinking that it is the writer who is a racist. Think what you want, but my wife, whose grandparents were born in China thinks exactly the same, except with greater intensity - Chinese travelers are, by and large, a pain to be around.

Our groups were marched up to the podium, our sins were proclaimed and the punishment administered. I had previously seen staff bring bowls of colorful goop to the stage - kind of like a mix between slime and shaving cream - as well as a large fish, which, rumor had it, someone had to kiss. I was hoping for the fish.  My plan was to sweep up the fish in my arms, turn and dip like the best tango dancers, and plant a big one right on its lips.  It would've been a crowd pleaser, 100%. Unfortunately, I did not get the chance. Instead, when my punishment was meted out, two or more staff start flinging and pouring goop on me. I don't know how many because after a couple seconds I couldn't see anymore. When they finished, we were a laughable mess.  They guided us to a cleanup area which was a stack of towels and a big sheet of plastic on the deck.

I wiped down but was still a mess - this cleanup needed water.  I made my way to the stairs while people snapped photos and laughed.  A few I'd spoken with, Gordon, Andy, and others, called me by name so I'd turn to them to get a better shot. As I approached my room, Denchai was in the hall and, at first, his mouth dropped in horror. He quickly did a 180 though and laughed as he grabbed his camera from the service cart. He later posted the photos with the caption, "Please don't go to my room." He said it got a big response from his friends and family - some of them suggesting I jump on the bed like that. We had a good laugh.

Clothes and body cleaned up well with some water.  Denchai thanked me later because there was nothing left for him to clean. He said that most people would've left pink and green and blue goo everywhere for him to deal with.  Not my style. My mess, my responsibility.

I started to slip on my exercise and health regimen lately but today I got my 12k steps in, focused on drinking more water, and went heavy on the vegetables for my main meal of the day. It was not a big social day and the remainder of the day passed leisurely with occassional brief conversations with loud American spa guy, a couple of New Zealanders heading home, and a woman with dementia. She was lost, she was confused, she wore a dazed and frightened look. I tried to help her but she was so distraught she could not even respond to my questions. I finally gave up and left her with a crew member. Where was her husband or caretaker?  There was no way this woman could travel by herself. Maybe the idea was to take her cruising in hopes she'd fall overboard and vanish in the night. Lost at sea. Sad. So very, very sad.  The lesson? Those things you love, do them now. Those people you love, love them now.

Day Rating: 7

Tuesday, October 17, 2023 - The South Pacific

83 degrees with 74% humidity at 4:30AM. The forecast is for some clouds and wind, along with a rain squall or two. What the weather forecast didn't report was that there was a considerable chop coming from the southeast causing the boat to rock more than usual.  And it was more than a little breeze that accompanied it, in fact, the captain closed the decks over night - first time that's happened on this voyage.

With no moon, Venus was the brightest thing in the sky, like a beacon in a shapeless void that began at the furthest roller visible by shiplight, where the dim bubble of light that surrounds us is swallowed by the blackness - the edge between sea and sky was no more. But even in the darkness things were happening.  As I stood at the balcony trying to find the dim edge of dawn that will surely appear, a silvery white meteor silently sliced through the darkness. Later, a small pelagic bird flitted in and out of the darkness a couple of times and then was gone. Makes one wonder what kind of activity takes place under the waves, at the same moment. Dark things. Scary things. Things that have no name.

Eventually, the darkness gave way to the first pale glow of dawn, but it appeared much higher from where the true horizon lies. As the light spread from the zenith, the backlit edges of the clouds wear the sun would surface appeared and light started to grow from a now defined horizon. A few minutes later, the clouds moved and a sliver of sun shot out a ray from the .  Soon, the entire orb paused on the horizon and continued it's upward ascent - it was the first time we'd seen the entire disc as it rose - clouds are usually lurking at the horizon.

I got some spa time in this morning but it might be my last for a while.  I am usually the first person to jump in after they adjust and test chemicals.  But even at thought, I've noticed a slight rash in a couple of areas on my chest and arm right at the waterline.  I suspect when the water foams, any anti-bacterial action is greatly diminished. Roll in some sensitive skin and voila. The last time I had something like this it took both topical and systemic antibacterials to knock it back.  I've got an early start on this and now, if my suspicions are correct, I'll not be re-infecting so that should help combat it. Always something to be watchful for.

Before my morning stroll, I, along with everyone else, had to hand in our passports to Princess. New country, new rules. Even though I roamed the ship this morning and am on target with steps, I didn't see anyone I knew and I didn't make any new acquaintenances. Perhaps people are bunkered in their cabins.  Even though the Captain opened the decks after sunrise it's still pretty blustery out there and every once in a while the South Pacific gives us a good slap that makes the entire ship shudder. This is not Drake Passage rough but plenty rough enough and I'm surprised a ship of this size is rocking and rolling as much as it is.

At noon we were about 200 miles east of the island nation of Kiribati which, at about 1400 miles, is the longest island archepelago in the world, many of which are coral atolls. We're still over 750 miles from Moorea, our first port of call in French Polynesia. About an hour later, I was in my cabin and from the Lido above I heard the measured clump-clump-clump of a cane being planted on the deck as the owner made their way aft. It reminded me of Moby Dick and Capt. Ahab pacing the decks in the wee morning hours with his peg leg. We know the dark thoughts of the brooding protagonist in that tale, hopefully the person upstairs on the Lido is faring better.

Tonight, there is a sliver of moon, not enough to illuminate the waves after the sun went down. As darkness descends, I again, think of the early Polynesians. Where did their thoughts wander to when the sun went down and the edge between sea and sky disappeared and they became one? Ahh, to know the visitations that addressed them as they drifted in a dark and endless void puncuated only by twinkling points of light that silently sailed through their own inky sea until, one by one, the light of day swallowed them whole.

Something off about today, even the conversations I had were uninspired. Maybe I was uninspired. Maybe I was uninspiring. Maybe I just missed a lot. A great example of the day came during my dinner in the marketplace.  I was just finishing up when two men sat down. The table was actually two tables, a four-top and a two, pushed close to one another.  I sat at the two, they sat at the four.  The older gentleman, an Englishman, who it turned was same age as me although he didn't look it, appeared healthy but he required a walker for navigation. The man traveling with him was, most likely, his aide.

We spoke a bit then the aide excused himself and Ian and I talked for a bit,  I was enjoying my conversation, Ian was quick-witted, soft-spoken and insightful, but when my water was done, I excused myself. Why didn't I stay?  A lively conversation with an interesting person, but my water was done so I left. I wasn't thinking at all. I took a pass on one of the pleasures of travel - good conversation with strangers who could become friends. I hope Ian's path and mine cross again and that I make more intelligent and conscious decisons. Live consciously.

Day Rating: 6

Wednesday, October 18, 2023 - Midpoint of the Cruise

It's hard to believe that this journey, at least the sea portion, is half over today. I'd rather it go on another couple months at least, maybe end in Singapore and meet up with my wife and daughter there. For this Wednesday though, we're still on our way to French Polynesia - we left Honolulu Friday evening.

Venus is rising earlier, at 4:00AM it was already nearly out of view due to the overhanging Promenade.  It's also rising further aft as we plow further south, now just about a day from our second port, Moorea. The sun is rising earlier as well due to our southern trajectory - it began its rise from the sea at 5:41AM . . . and very few were out on deck to see it. I was on deck for well over an hour and I saw only three passengers during that time. 

The sunrise itelf was drab due to a thick cloudbank to the east and south that would soon envelope us with a slow, steady rain - the first significant rain of the trip. It reminded me very much of the ferries from Mukilteo to Whidbey Island that I became familiar with on a near daily basis when I lived in Washington state. The only difference was the temperature - here it was a very balmy 80 degrees.  I found a spot on deck in the lee of one of the wind barriers where it transitioned from 8' to 4' and I enjoyed an unobstructed view while staying dry as the rain literally flew right over me.

And today, so far a Seattle kind of day is a good day to feed the gnawing truth that this trip is a journey of introspection and self-discovery just as much as seeing some amazing sights and experiencing other cultures in one of the more remote parts of the globe. At least it is for the solo travelers, well, at least for this solo traveler. And even though it can induce melancholy it can also provide insight. Self-discovery at this stage of life, what the hell have I been doing these past 70 years? Maybe self-discovery is more akin to developing the courage to act on that which we already know.

I am encountering more and more people aboard ship who are here working and they say it is cheaper to live on the ship than in there homes. And I'm not talking about young entrepeneurs with channels into AI development. No, there was a woman at breakfast today from Washington DC. She works in the billing department of the Washington Post and she struck me as being neither creative nor ambitious. But here she was on an international cruise ship complaining because she had to go to work after breakfast. Wah. This is not good news.  If I stumbled on someone doing it, you can bet it's already a trend. And if the cruise prices are comparatively that "cheap" that means the cruise industry's response will be not far behind - and that'll mean higher prices and/or lower quality of service. Some say it's already started and I tend to agree - where's the smoked salmon? The real question is - how far will price raising and cost cutting go?

There were crew drills this morning. These are usually done on port days but we've been out so long they had to do their drills at sea today to remain in compliance. Everything went well and there were no mishaps, as one would expect.  

What one expects though is not always the case. It was not on a ship, it was on one of the bridges across Lake washington between Seattle and Redmond and it was in the 1990s. The drill entailed a mock raising of that section of bridge that pivots to let boat traffic through that would not fit under the elevated portion of the bridge. The problem was one of the bridgetenders forgot to enter that this was only a drill, the section of bridge raised about three feet, and cars ploughed into it doing 60 miles an hour.  There were injuries, there was death. But it was only a drill.

By mid-morning the rain stopped and we could see the horizon again, but it was under leaden skies above a slightly darker gray ocean. Between the rain and the safety drill, today there was no group Tai-chi, no Zumba, no deck movie. Probably over a thousand people whose routines were upset. So what did they do? No doubt, some stayed in bed, a good day for that.  But it also seemed the Marketplace was much busier than usual.

The rest of the day will be prepping for Moorea and Papeete. I've got a tour planned in Moorea, snorkeling with whales, but I've been looking for spouts all the way down from Hawaii and I've seen none so while the swim will take place, it might be a bust. I still have to be ready with my camera and swim gear though. 

Papeete is a different story. I have nothing booked there. I was encouraged though by the presenter at the Enrichment talk who stated that there will be several locals to greet us at the dock and they will have services to offer.  Payment (I only have US dollars) and to a lesser degree, language (I know no French) could be the only wrinkles but those are usually easy to resolve. One thing I would have done was to go to the Paul Gaugin museum but, unfortunately, it is closed for renovation.

I've got the gear and Plan A and Plan B set for tomorrow, hopefully I won't need to go further than that. I'll be queueing up to get a tender ticket at 7:00 AM tomorrow about the same time we anchor. I put the probability of a whale sighting underwater at 20%. Hopefully I learned some things from the sea turtle excursion and can get some good shots.

One very funny and touching moment of the day came when I was doing my afternoon walk. There's a small group of Eastern Europeans on board along with their wives. These guys are big, burly, hairy, bearded, bear men, better suited to the front lines in Ukraine than on a Princess cruise bound for Tahiti. These are the guys you want on your side in a fight. And when they're out on deck they don't like wearing clothes, but out of some sense of decency they wear Budgy Smugglers. The best one is white with a bright red vertical stripe intersecting a vertical one, and on the back it actually says, "Budgy Smuggler". I met them the other day at the Crossing Ceremony. As messy as I was, as I headed for the cleaning area, they high-fived me and grabbed my shoulders and gave them a shake as I passed.

So, here were the big, burly budgy smugglers out on deck watching the afternoon movie, Walk The Line. And if you remember the movie, Johnny Cash's brother gets mangled in a farm accident and is breathing his last as the red stain on his white t-shirt grows. These guys were touched, The why is unknown. Their eyes darted away from each other, no one wanting the others to see, no one wanting to see the others. They were nonchallantly, scratching itches on their cheeks and sniffing the air. One of them got up and left, he was right in front of me and walking fast, repeatedly wiping his eyes with both hands.

The clouds closed in late afternoon and a steady rain soon followed. At sunset, there was not a hint of color in the sky

Day Rating: 7

Thursday, October 19, 2023 - Mo'orea 

Mo'orea. Moorea, Yellow Lizard, Magical Island. All are acceptable. Created about 2 million years ago, Moorea is the second largest of the windward islands of French Polynesia, Tahiti being the largest. The island was left in the rough shape of a heart after the volcanic forces that created it settled down. Fresh water flows down the jagged volcanic peaks and when concentrated in sufficient quantity, it carves channels in the surrounding coral, making for several good small harbors, Cook's Bay being one of the more picturesque.

The first settlers arrived from Tonga and Samoa, well over 1,000 miles away, between 1,000 BC and 500 AD. The distances between habitable islands was becoming greater and the iconic double-hulled tipairua came into being to enable the Polynesians to traverse such distances. They first landed in Raiatea, the westernmost of the major French Polynesian islands and then gradually moved east to Moorea and Tahiti, and even later on to the Marquesas.

The Polynesians established marae, temples, on the islands and these were fundamental to their society. The marae was a stage and gathering place made of volcanic rocks and in addition to religious ceremonies, it was from the marae that ships were launched. A Naha Stone was the central stone of the marae, it was a religious icon, a focus for ones prayers. When the the Polynesians set sail for new lands they brought Naha Stones with them. These were large monoliths and one was blessed at the marae and transported to a tipairua in preparation for its journey into the unknown. Smaller stones would also be brought from the marae and used to build the marae in the new island, in that way connecting all the marae and all the people of Polynesia. There's a simple beauty in that.

The first European to set eyes on Moorea was Pedro Fernandez de Queros, a Spaniard who noted it in his log in 1606 but never stopped. The Englishman Samuel Wallis was the first European to land there well over a century later in 1767. Word of Wallis's "discovery" got back to England before Cook embarked on his first voyage in the HMS Endeavour and it prompted him to change his route in the southern ocean. He set sail for what he later called the Society Islands where he set up his observatory to view the transit of Venus on the adjacent island of Tahiti.

The missionaries followed those first Europeans and, as in Hawaii, they had a profound influence on the culture, the religion, even the language of the Polynesians as it fragmented into regional dialects dependent upon a missionary's interpretation of the sound and their individual spelling (remember, the Polynesian language was not written) of the sound. They built churches and sometimes, as in the case of the Temple of Papetoai on Moorea, directly on top of existing marae.  In this case in particular, on top of the oldest marae on the island and one of the oldest in the region, dating to 900 BC.

The history of Moorea is basically the same as that of Tahiti, Raiatea, Bora Bora and the other nearby islands. They were "discovered" by Europeans, missionaries followed and brought Christianity to the islands, the ruling family dynasty was outmaneuvered and overthrown, and the Europeans took over. The wrinkle in the colonial conquest of the Society Islands though came about because Wallis arrived in the area in June 1767 and claimed it for King George of England. But Admiral Louis Antoine de Bougainville, sailing for France and supposedly unaware of Wallis, arrived shortly thereafter and claimed the land for France. De Bougainville arrived back in Europe before Wallis and, as was customary of the time, de Bougainville's claim stood and the islands became a French Protectorate. In 1977 the French granted French Polynesia autonomy and in 2004 it was recognized as an overseas country of the French Republic. To be honest, I don't know the distinction between autonomy and being an overseas country of the French republic but it seems that if the French Polynesians don't have absolute autonomy, they have all but.

You can make a strong argument that the French Polynesians have fared much better than their Hawaiian cousins. They both lost their autonomy and their land to foreign powers, victims of the arrogance of colonialism.  The Hawaiians were assimilated into American culture and after 100 years fully became part of the United States.  However, the French Polynesians, although heavily influenced by the Europeans, once again have their autonomy and, at least on paper, are once again in control of their destiny. But there is that nuclear thing . . .

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But for today, it's all about exploration and adventure in and around this beautifully green Magical Island. The day is starting as yesterday ended - overcast skies, light rain, and the temp is down to the low 70s. The forecast is for more rain and if the couds stay, the whale snorkel will probably not be good.  Unfortunately, without good strong sunlight, even photographing or videoing reef fish will need yield colorful results. 

Right now, we're an hour from port and we can't yet see land. The tour, the only tour I signed up for before sailing, leaves at 8:30 AM. We probably won't start offloading before 8:00 so I'll have to be on one of the first tenders, which means queueing up even before we dock to get a tender ticket. 

Around 6:00 AM there was a loud boom, it sounded like a cannon but was probably thunder.  What's odd though, is that we hadn't heard any thunder these 12 days at sea but this morning as we approached Moorea there was the one thunderous BOOM and nothing more.

Later and suddenly, a shadow loomed over the ship. Moorea. A dark gray juggernaut looming out of a lighter gray mist. We were much closer than I thought and it's presence, almost an apparition, was a bit of a shock. Is that what the watch on the Titanic felt when the berg appeared? You could now smell the island and I inhaled it deeply. After several days at sea, the aroma of soil and sand and plants and flowers wrapped you in familiar arms. 

Moorea is ringed by a reef and we were bound for one of those openings carved by the fresh water cascading from the steep cliffs. There are basically only two harbors at that crux of the heart and we docked in the furthest west, Opunohu Bay. 

By the time we were granted permission to anchor the rain was pretty steady. By the time the tenders were accepting passengers it was pouring. I was in line early and got a ticket on the first tender so I arrived half an hour before the meeting time. Other tenders arrived and other snorkelers arrived who'd signed up for the same tour, some through Vacations To Go, some through Viator. There was less than eight in all, a pretty nice number.

Urana! The French Polynesian equivalent of the all-purpose Hawaiian, Aloha! The dock was crowded. Dancers and musicians performed, people sold their handiwork, or the handiwork of others, gardenia flowers were handed out to both men and women. Buses and cars and taxis and 4x4s waited in the parking lot, now a pool of muddy water. And nowhere could we find a vehicle that had the words "Moorea Activities Center" on it. Past 8:30, as tour busses and 4x4s and boats started heading out people started to panic.  Viator did not even provide a local contact for those who bought tickets. My recommendation: do not ever, ever, buy anything through Viator, absolutely no accountability from what I have seen. 

I'd previously emailed my travel agent but in the meantime I'd located the local number for the operator and, fortunately, the woman who answered knew enough English to convey to me the tour was cancelled. We jump in the ocean outside the reef and it was just a bit too rough out there this morning. Although the whales can swim through the breaks in the reef and into the harbors, the lagoons are too shallow for them so they tend to congregate outside the reef.
I had brought all my camera gear in hopes of the rain letting up. It wasn't. It looked as though lagoon tours were still operating but there was still the gray skies which would impair video quality.  I decided to return to the ship and re-group and that's starting to become a trend on this excursion - a quick off the ship to scout things out, then a return with the items needed for the day.

When I got back to the ship they were still calling tender numbers, they were up to 28. I traded off my backpack for my drybag and threw in the wallet, GoPro wannabe, dive mask, fob and phone. I wore my swim trunks and a cutoff swim shirt. That's it. If the rain continued, it didn't matter. Back to the tenders. They were at 31 but I didn't even bother getting a number.
Back at the dock, the lagoon tours had dropped from $50 to $40. It was getting late and the vendors were slitting each others throats. The fare included a stop in a supposedly great snorkeling place to swim with shark, ray, and reef fish, then on to a private island to drink rum punches and buy a lunch for an additional $10. I signed up and rooamed about for 45 minutes until the boat left.

I ran into Rose who had signed up for a 4x4 into the island which was apparently still on despite all the rain. Another woman from the "Sol Mates" sunrise watching crew passed by with her husband and neither was smiling, perhaps something had gone wrong with their car rental. The appointed time arrived, the rains stopped, and the boat took off. It held about 25 and almost half were from the production crew on the boat. The were young and many thought themselves more attractive than they actually were, which is unfortunate because they really were attractive but their need for attention detracted from their beauty. Once you're in the water though, the star of the show is the fish.
The boat navigated through a marked channel to avoid coral heads that might be close to the surface. Eventually we stopped and even though this was another bleached reef there were fish a plenty. They were different colors, different sizes, there were even parrotfish, creating sand for the reef. Occassionally, a ray would hover above the white sand and languidly drift by, it's "wings" fluttering at the outer edges. And there were sharks. I really hadn't intended on swimming with sharks but here I was and there they were so there you have it. 

Everything under the waves seemed so serene I was not concerned about the sharks and I had no need to be.  As the crewman on the boat said, if the fins have a tip, black or white, you're ok, if there's no tip, maybe you should get out of the water. These sharks all had tips, although at one point as I was tailing one shark I looked to my right and another, beefier shark, nearly as long as me, was swimming by my side. He quietly drifted away though as soon as I'd noticed him.  Really, I thought they behaved like dogs and I found them amusing. I recalled salmon fishing days off Whidbey Island and once in a while we'd catch a shark and we did actually call them "dogfish".

After an hour or so we climbed back aboard and headed to the private island. We passed by a resort, bungalows over the water, boarded up and falling into disrepair - another victim of Covid. The people here still haven't recovered from the flow of tourist dollars that was interrupted during the days of travel bans. We conitinued. The private island turned out to be an island in the lagoon and part of a beach, about the size of a city lot, seperated from their neighbors by a makeshift fence of bamboo, worn landscape cloth, and whatever was on hand. The proprietor, an old, wiry, colorful, Rasta-Polynesian with a perpetually loud voice and a toothless grin, advised us against going beyond the bamboo screen at the back of the lot. I didn't ask why.

There were some people at bamboo picnic tables - snorklers who decided to hang out for a while and drink the rum punch which consisted of Tang, melted ice cubes and rum. A thatched nipa hut covered the food offering which was chicken, rice, and fruit. I was hungry but the whole set-up reminded me too much of the Philippines where I've contracted stomach ailments more times than I care to think of so I stuck with the rum punch which, to be honest, was pushing things already. What kind of water was used for those, now melted, ice cubes?
The snorkel boats go back and forth periodically so I got on the next and it brought me back through the channel and to the dock. The dock was still busy with hawkers, barkers, dancers, musicians and tourists, a captive audiance, queued up to get back to the ship and on to Tahiti - although those in the know, opted to spend the night on Moorea and ferry over tomorrow.

At the edge of the carnival, sheltered by a tree, stood the sacred stone brought by the original settlers of this island - a 5 foot tall, lichen-covered obelisk, indifferent to all the activity around it.

Me, not being in the know, got on the next tender back to the ship and got some food in me. It was not the day I had intended, but a good day nonetheless. Perhaps the best of the trip as I'd not in my life ever planned to swim with sharks - sometimes those unplanned events are the best.

I vaguely remember the ship threading through the reef and Moorea fading as darkness set in and I set about to my evening tasks while the ship made the short channel crossing to Papeete.

Day Rating: 9

Friday, October 20, 2023 - Pape'ete

It was another physically demanding day yesterday and the body collapsed after dinner. I passed out without even shutting down devices from the daily photo transfer. When I awoke in the wee morning hours there was light peaking through my curtains, but it wasn't natural light. Oh yeah, we're in the port of Papeete, island of Tahiti. I'd missed the docking completely.
I went to the balcony.  The light was from not only the port but from the street and home lights defining the black hillside. Here in the tight but well-protected harbor, several sailboats and small ships filled the boat slips.

One stood out. In fact, it was moored to the same pier as the Majestic Princess. It was a gray and white, elegantly stark private vessel. Signals identify it as the Andromeda, call sign ZGES2, registered in the Caymen Islands, later confirmed by the name and flag on the stern.
The Andromeda is classified as a superyacht. I can tell you from direct observation, that this superyacht has a helipad as well as a hangar for it's onboard helicopter - no tender waits for those passengers. In case they wanted to leave the ship by boat, in addition to evacuation craft, it had at least nine options, including two that are ocean-worthy in their on right, the largest being at least 40 feet long. It looks like a shortened destroyer and judging from the number and size of the domes above the bridge, there is some pretty sophisticated electronics aboard the ship. It weighs in at 6,000 tons and is 352 feet long. Wow.

Now, who do you think would own such a ship? According to Forbes and several other sources, it was built by New Zealand billionaire Graeme Hart and sold to Yuri Borisovich Bentsionovich Milner in 2017. Can you say, "Russian Oligarch"? A spokesperson for Mr. Milner though denies he owns the ship. Hmmm, someone is paying the deckhands that I see working about the ship keeping it on pristine condition. And those deckhands are in pretty good condition too, broad shoulders, small waists, walk with a purpose, all in identical uniforms.  The whole scene was very 007-ish and you half-expected someone to jetpack onto the helipad as C-4 starts exploding and crew scramble for automaic weapons stashed about the ship. 

As it was though, the only people I saw board and unboard were women, alone. They would arrive and leave, some by car, some on foot, and the gangway would be lowered and raised for them by an unseen finger on a hidden button.
The island of Tahiti is much more crowded and far less attractive than Moorea. Yes, there are still impassably steep slopes covered in jungle growth and when I get out exploring I'll find interesting things. But there's a tremendoes amount of development here and judging by the tower cranes around the port area, maybe a dozen, there is much more to come.  There are traffic lights, there is traffic noise, there is traffic smell. There are flashing blue lights and the very European, pwee-yo, pwee-yo, pwee-yo of emergency vehicles, day and night.

There were no tenders to deal with here, just down and out after swiping your fob. On the dock, there were plenty of hawkers but it seemed like they were all selling bus tours. I turned left and walke on along the shore road. There was a beautiful pavillion done in traditional Polynesian architecture that I thought would make a great museum of cultural center.  It turned out it was the ferry terminal. But a beautiful one.

Beyond that. the area quickly turned industrial though so I backtracked, cutting through side roads, looking for things of interest. It was starting to rain when I got back to the dock area but I stayed out to look at the shops and pick up some literature from their tourist center. I'd brought all my camera gear again and again it looked like I wouldn't be using it as the weather continued deteriorating.  It was back to the ship to re-group.

I shed my gear, pared down to the basics, and shoved them in the drybag. I cannot overstate the value of a properly-sized, well-made drybag. Back on land it seemed a bus tour was the way to go - too bad the Gauguin museum was closed. My body was not yet ready for snorkeling and at least in a bus I'd have some shelter from the rain unless we're out at one of the five stops. 

I gave my money to a Chinese lady and she handed me a stamped piece of paper. She pointed to where I should stand then, surreptitiously, cupped her hand over her mouth and said sit on the X side of the bus - better view. I smiled and nodded, my usual response when I don't hear something. I thought this was maybe too important though so I asked, "Pardon?" in my best French accent. The woman smiled and nodded, Yes!, and continued to the next customer. Well, I still had a 50/50 chance.

It was raining pretty strongly by the time we boarded so the shelter it provided was welcome and I got a window seat on the left side with no one beside me so I had plenty of room to sprawl - a nice bonus. The guide was a 22-year old Tahitiian who studied in England and his Englush was pretty good. He's also 6'9". He claims he's healthy but also didn't say whether or not he's still growing. Genetic abnormality? Certainly seems like it. Related to France's nuclear tests? Who knows. 

The bus ringed the main part of the island and did not take the cutoff to Tahiti'iti. As promised, we made five stops and got out to photograph gardens, waterfalls, a blowhole, and Venus Point. We also got very wet. It was nice to see those things and I was dressed for the weather but it cast a dull palor over everything and made for not-so-great photographs. Still, without these rainy days those beautiful, lush, coloful photos could not exist, not without some serious photoshopping anyway. Aside from the feautured attractions were the abundance of churches we passed on the road. The influence of the missionaries was great 200 years ago and still carries weight today.

Four hours later we were back at the port. My butt was sore. Those seats were molded, but hard and being at the back of a bus with crappy suspension didn't help much either. Even people with considerably more padding on their backsides complained about how sore they were. I agree, first-world problem.

The day was a disappointment, in large part because of the weather. I did learn though that the busload of people tour is just not for me - it's too passive. I'd have much rather been in the water. I stopped at the Tourist Center on Blvd. de la Reine Pomare IV and I asked about snorkeling tours. The young man who helped me was new and unsure but when I said I was from the ship he said there would be plenty of tour operators in the morning. Okay.

That was it for a largely nothing-burger of a day. Even Venus Point was a disappointment, my fault though for not doing my homework. The tall block structure seen in photos of Venus Point is pretty substantial and I was always curious why Cook would build something so big - and how, given the short amount of time he had to prepare for the transit. The answer was simple. He didn't build it. It was built 100 years later in 1867 to commemorate the site. It is tall because it also doubles as a lighthouse. Mystery solved.

Day Rating: 6

Saturday, October 21, 2023 - Out of Sync

In the wee morning hours, out on the balcony, the skies were dark, the cars were few. The streets were quiet except for a few partiers loudly wandering the docks, oblivious to the pains that await them sometime after dawn. A hair of the dog will take care of that, or so they say. The smell of traffic was gone. The sweet, spicy scent of gardenia was in the air, carried by every breath of air flowing offshore from the island. Intoxicating. But the fragrant mirage disappeared too soon as commerce took control of the day.

I hit the shore early, we're leaving this afternoon and I didn't want to get caught in a time crunch. Most of the vendors were just getting set up andthey were offering me their bus tours. I asked about snorkeling and an old, toothless man, (technically, he wasn't toothless, I think he had three) took a puff on his cigarette and said there's no good snorkeling here anymore, you go to Moorea. 

With no tours directly out of Papeete, I could, theoretically, catch the ferry to Moorea and maybe be back by departure. I headed for the ferry terminal, glad I had scouted the area the previous day. By the time I figured out the schedules, destinations, and whiich ferry, it was 7:40AM - the first ferry of the day left at 7:35. Just missed. The next one would leave at 9:00AM. 

Ferry at 9:00. Disembark at 10:15. Catch a snorkel cruise at 11:00. 4 hours on the water, brings me to 3:00. This being a Saturday, the trips are reduced and there are no ferries from 12:30 to 4:10. If I missed the 4:10, the ship would leave without me.  I did the math, I slowly came to accept that it wasn't going to happen. If everything went well, there was time, but one hiccup and I'd be flying to American Samoa. I'm glad I got my snorkeling in the other day.
I roamed the streets and made my way to the market, a large pavillion just a few blocks from the docks. Their seller's mecca was as nice as any I've been in - colorful and clean. Artisans were calmly going about their business, setting up their stalls for the day. The scent of flowers filled the air, as women wove flowers and fronds into headpieces for the tourists. The vegetable sellers were already selling their produce from neatly organized displays and young boys harrassed the flies trying to land on the fishmongers offerings.

I wasn't interested in buying anything, I'd already toured the island - in the rain, and there was no snorkeling. I had little desire to do anything else here. Papeete is cleaner than most island communities I've visited, and the European influence is unmistakable - but not prevalent. 

Just as there is a sameness to all big cities - they have their unique flavors and buildings and languages and values to be sure - but, at least on the surface, it is their city-ness that provides the foundation that the trappings of culture are laid upon. And so it is with these island communities. Papeete, in many ways, is not that much different from Lapu Lapu City on Mactan Island, thousands of miles to the west, a different language, a different history. But the challenges of both the government and the people are the same - pollution, unemployment, poverty, crime.

That's a very broad and basic list that you could rightfully say is true for any community - urban or rural, island or continental. But how they affect island communities is profoundly different. Take pollution for example. Air pollution, except for combustion engines masking the sweet smell of gardenia, is not an issue that islanders have much direct control over (except for limiting vehicles) because there is little or no manufacturing on the island.
But because it's an island, and like any other small island, things that are brought here tend to stay here - like cars. On the continents, someone will tow it away, it will be sold for scrap, it will be stripped down, and some of it will be melted down to make more steel for more vehicles. On islands, the vehicles rust in yards and empty lots as nature tries to camoflage the eyesore with grasses and vines. Car and boat, lead-acid batteries, once their energy is drained, become doorstops. Literally.

And that scenario is repeated for every washing machine, refrigerator, television, you name it, that is brought here. I think on an island like Papeete where so much of the land is so steep and covered in jungle it is even more acute because the amount of useable land to absorb all the trappings of society is just a small fraction of the total island. There must be process or program for disposing of trash but it's obvious that many either can't afford it or are okay leaving the things for nature to reclaim. And so it accumulates, faster than nature can reclaim it.

As I think about it, what they need is a nearby volcano. A place to accelerate reclamation. A place for their island civilization to throw the stuff of their island civilization. The stuff that's outlived it's purpose or cannot be fixed. The stuff no longer wanted. Broken offerings to the Gods who consume it all with indifference.

I was back aboard in the early afternoon and waited for our departure. I can't say I was impressed with Tahiti but maybe it's just because I was out of sync with the island. It rained most of the time here and nothing resonated with me, not even Venus Point. But that's not to say that Tahiti doesn't have anything to offer. The wildness of Moorea, just a dozen miles away, where dancers greeted us at the dock, I found much more defined, much more exciting. For Papeete, the blending of Polynesian and European cultures seems to still be evolving and perhaps that can be a little unsettling.
The best example of me being out of sync here with the island of Tahiti came just before we left.

The Paul Gauguin, a ship that might be the only ship of the cruise line of the same name, was in port with us and was scheduled to leave the harbor before us. I thought that might be nice to see, especially before the setting sun. They hadn't released their moorings yet so I had plenty of time to go downstairs, grab the best camera for the shot, and get back up on deck.
I was on my balcony, getting one last view of the Andromeda when I started hearing loud booms. It wasn't thunder because the rains had been held at bay all day and it was a pleasant evening. I looked to the fore of the ship toward the setting sun and the open sea and just at the edge, I could see a sliver of the Paul Gauguin as colorful showers of fireworks exploded around it as it headed to sea. 

There was no time to get up on deck to get a shot and I had no real shot from where I stood. I missed it. It could have been a great photo, it should have been a great photo, but as with most everything else here in Tahiti, I was just out of sync. 

After the Paul Gauguin cleared port we released our moorings and followed her out.  There were no fireworks for us, just the darkening skies as we made our way around the north side of Moorea, bound for Pago Pago, American Samoa.

Day Rating: 5