Two Sides of a Day: Honolulu

“Hawaii is not a state of mind, but a state of grace.” - Paul Theroux

With a mere 13 hours on Oahu, the choice of what to do should have been difficult, but for me it was not. My long-time friend Ruth, once a member of the AILA Board who, like me, has moved on to other things but maintains a membership nonetheless, lives in Honolulu. So getting together with her was the obvious choice. We enjoyed a leisurely beach-side lunch at the Moana Surfrider, spending a few hours catching up, then she helped me complete an errand in the last U.S. port we will see until late April.  It is always great to see Ruth, and yesterday was no exception.

The evening was devoted to a special “shoreside event” put on by the cruise ship for the 360-ish of us going on the full world cruise. We were bussed to Pearl Harbor where we boarded the USS Missouri—aka “Mighty Mo”—for a fascinating evening.  It was on the Missouri’s deck where WWII ended with the signing of the terms of surrender by the Japanese in Tokyo harbor.

The placement of Mighty Mo in Pearl Harbor is no accident.  Docked across from the site of the USS Arizona (the watery grave of the sailors who died on that ship on December 7, 1941, now a solemn monument), the two ships are bookends of the beginning and the end of the United States’ involvement in World War II.  The photo below shows the juxtaposition of the Missouri and the monument atop where the Arizona lies (apologies for the glass reflection—the best shot was from a bus window).

The evening began with news clips from the attack on Pearl Harbor, followed by a ceremonial lowering of the flag by three Hawaiian military veterans. The beat then went up with a “USO show,” with the music and costumes of the era, and some dancing and fun.  Then it was time to tour the Missouri, where we visited the deck where the surrender took place, the area in which the ship was hit by a kamikaze attack during the battle of Okinawa, and the gunnery and some operational areas.  The guides were excellent, providing the stories and color that brought to life the part that this ship played in history.

Just one of the stories told was how, despite the dead-on hit of the kamikaze attack, no American sailors died in the attack. However, the remains of the kamikaze pilot were found on the deck. On the captain's orders, rather that desecrate those remains, the 19-year-old pilot was given a full burial at sea. Fifty years later, his family heard of the story, and came to visit the Missouri and give their thanks for the respectful treatment of their relative.

An interesting aside was the story of how it was that the Missouri became the ship on which the surrender took place.  When the Mighty Mo was first commissioned, a Congressman from Missouri named Harry Truman was the one who christened it. When surrender time came, that congressman, now President, chose “his” ship for the honor.

This was one of those evenings that truly did end too soon.  I could easily have spent another hour exploring the Missouri, but it was time to go back to our own ship. Then came the thing that you would think I’d have done a lot,, but in fact this was the first time since boarding I had done it—sat out on our balcony and enjoyed the view and the pleasant weather.

And, with that, we sailed away from Honolulu at 1:00 am, and are now back at sea. 

Our next stop:  Fanning Island, Republic of Kiribati.

At Sea: Life Aboard a Cruise Ship

“The goal of each civilization, all religious thought, all that sort of thing, is simply to have a good time. But man gets so solemn over the process that he forgets the end.”  Don Marquis

The point (at least for me) of a lengthy sea voyage is visiting a multitude of places without having to deal with logistics. But it can take some time to get to those places.  As in crossing an ocean: starting a 102-day voyage to Asia from the U.S. means four straight days at sea in the Pacific Ocean without land in sight.  Then a couple of island stops, and then a few more days at sea.

I have been asked, "Doesn’t all that time aboard a ship get boring? “

Well, yes.  Sort of.

The other thing about a cruise ship is that, on those days at sea, an army of people work to ensure that you have plenty to do.  Exercise classes.  Classes on a multitude of skills (knitting, writing, photography, computers, etc.). Lectures. Movies. Shows.  Or poolside seats with a book.

OK, that last one hasn’t worked out so well so far. The waters have been rough, meaning the pool is closed, and the temperatures chilly.  So make that sitting in the observation deck with a book.

And today starts a new twist:  the “World Cruise Games.”  The opening ceremonies were last night, and an "eternal flame” was "lit."  Said flame being a ripped sheet with underlighting and a fan keeping it blowing--open flames are forbidden on a ship for obvious reasons.  The "flame" is surrounded by the flags of the countries represented on the ship. 

The games run the gamut: golf, paddle tennis, shuffleboard (yeah, you’d have been disappointed if that weren’t in there, wouldn’t you?).  Not to mention team trivia, scrabble, bridge, and other non-physical games. 

These games will run thoughout this segment, which ends in Sydney.  It’s a nice way to keep things interesting.

So, all that being said, why did I say “yes, sort of” to the question of boring?  What is good about sea time is that, when on a long voyage with lots of exploring in every port, you need a vacation from your vacation.  And sea days offer that.  But when you start your voyage with sea days, you are (or perhaps more accurately, I am) ready to start the exploring, but have nothing but the ship itself to explore. This is where I am happy with the choice to have added another cruise just prior to the official world cruise.  I already started the exploring, and so am not as antsy as I might otherwise have been.  And thus have been able to enjoy the ship’s activities on their own terms.

But I am more than ready to step on land again. And just in time: we arrive in Honolulu tomorrow.

And the World Cruise Officially Starts: San Francisco

“The Bay Area is so beautiful, I hesitate to preach about heaven while I’m here.” Billy Graham

Having added a Panama Canal cruise to the beginning of our “world cruise,” we had a 19-day head start.  Our ship took some bumps and lumps heading into San Francisco, with the roughest seas we’ve seen to date.  At one point, just as we headed into SF waters, a large wave hit the ship, with the result that the dishes in the Bistro (the ship’s coffee shop) all went tumbling. Fortunately, I was able to lift my glass of wine (yes, the coffee shop serves wine) in time to avoid spillage.

The sail-in under the Golden Gate Bridge was lovely, as was the approach to the city. 

But, alas, arrival in San Francisco meant departure of most of our fellow passengers (and a few favorite crew members), from the Panama Canal.  I still keep looking for our friends from that cruise on the ship. And our “social director”—a bar waiter who has adopted us—doesn’t know what to do when we arrive for pre-dinner drinks, as he is accustomed to immediately letting us know where to find our friends. 

But with the departure of that group came the arrival of the new passengers.  On Sunday, those who are on for the full world cruise boarded.  There are 368 of us. That night was the opening gala for the world cruise, a spectacular event that consisted of cocktails, dancing and a gigantic balloon/confetti drop, followed by dinner and then an opera-themed show. 

Our time in San Francisco was primarily spent with friends. The first day, we had lunch with friends Ken and Shirley, and on the second day with Suzanne and Mark.  It was a great time catching up, and a great feast at both restaurants.

On Monday, the passengers who are aboard for part of the world cruise (primarily the segment ending in Sydney, Australia) embarked.  Now with a full contingent, we are on our way to Honolulu.

The City and the Stars: Los Angeles

 “It’s [Los Angeles] mostly full of nonsense and delusion and egomania. They think they’ll be young and beautiful forever, even though most of them aren’t even young and beautiful now.” - Christopher Hitchens

We were in LA for 8 hours, so I opted to take a tour of the homes of the stars.  Pretty hokey, so of course there I was!

Riding around Hollywood and Beverly Hills in a 12-passenger, open-air bus, of course we could not see very many actual homes.  It was more like: that’s Paul McCartney’s chimney; that gate leads to a neighborhood with multiple stars.

What was clear from what we could see, and rather surprising, was how close together these homes are.  Even the sprawling mansions had neighbors only a few feet away.  The attached photo is of Tyler Perry’s home—note how close the next mansion over is.  

 Indeed, many homes on such storied streets and Coldwater Canyon or Sunset Blvd are as close together as the ones in my own neighborhood, which many a house hunter had decided against because of that very factor.

And some of the homes were not as big as one might have expected.  But, thinking about real estate prices here and the high population density, the closeness and relative modesty of some homes makes sense. 

Some juxtapositions of homes are sweet or ironic.  Sweet:  Carrie Fisher lives right next door to her mother, Debbie Reynolds (and their houses are barely a foot apart).  Ironic:  Elvis’ last home in LA is directly across the street from the house where Michael Jackson, briefly the husband of Elvis’ daughter, last lived.

OK, so it was an afternoon-killer at a brief port stop. Today, we are en route to San Francisco, where our “pre-cruise cruise” will come to an end. Tomorrow, we will say goodbye to many of our friends from this cruise, and the approximately 350 people who will be on the “world cruise” will board.  About 35-40 of that group are already on for this Panama cruise.

PS: to my east coast friends and family: please stay warm and safe.  I’m thinking about you (and not even gloating).

Up next: San Francisco

Two Approaches to Tourism: Huatulco and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico

"And it is an interesting biological fact that all of us have, in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch it, we are going back from whence we came. " — President John F. Kennedy

From about 400 BC until somewhere around the early 1520s, the Mixtec and Zapotec cultures lived and thrived in what is now the state of Oaxaca, including a town of more then 2,000 people at the mouth of the Rio Copalita near the modern-day city of Huatulco (pron. wa-TOOL-co). 

About 30 years ago, the Mexican government decided that the Huatulco location, on nine bays on the Pacific coast, would be an ideal location for a resort.  So they displaced the inhabitants of the tiny fishing village located there, and set about to build an eco-friendly resort very different from the likes of the ones in Cozumel, Cancun or Puerto Vallarta.   No building can be more than five stories, and all must respect the environment.

In the course of building that resort, they uncovered what was soon recognized as the ruins of a town.  In came the archaeologists, and eventually what emerged from the jungle was the ancient town of Copalita. The dig at this 200-acre site continues, and about 10% of it has been opened to the public as the Eco-Archeaologic Parque Copalita. 

 What is most interesting about the civilization here is that, while they had a writing and calendar system, and a complex social and religious structure, they had no wheel, iron or horses—items all quite typical elsewhere in the world, including in Central America—during the time frame of their inhabitance. 

Part of their religious and social structure was the “ball park” (pictured).  Here, an elaborate game involving vertical rings and a heavy rubber ball was played. The prize for the winner was the opportunity to offer himself to the gods—he’d be put to death in an elaborate ceremony that would enable him to go to live with the gods.  Only the very elite could participate or observe, and of course, no women were allowed.

Perhaps every civilization has its own forms of martyrdom.

Other buildings unearthed include a temple and a home for the priests, built over the course of several generations. Since there are no signs that this civilization had the wheel, the mere fact of building such elaborate structures seems an accomplishment of great proportions.

One of the unsolved mysteries is why the town was abandoned.  Given the timing—around the early 1520s—it is generally thought that the disappearance was caused by the appearance of the Spaniards. Either a violent attack by the Spaniards, or a retreat in fear by the townspeople upon seeing wagons, men on horses, and armor—all things new to them and, it is theorized, seen as the arrival of the gods. The kind of gods one wants to avoid.

This whole area—the city of Huatulco, the eco-archaeological park, the beautiful bays—seems well-thought out and is astoundingly clean.  Downtown Huatulco features a church, shops and restaurants, and a town square that are inviting and reflective of Oaxaca’s arts and culture.  The resort seems more popular among Mexicans than North Americans, though the Mexican government is trying to publicize it more to its northern neighbors. One barrier is the unrest in recent years within Oaxaca, making North Americans reluctant to visit. We could see the visible security while we were there, though perhaps more for show than anything else.  Still, it was interesting that there was a U.S. Coast Guard ship docked next to us while we were they.  I was told that it always arrives the day before a cruise ship does, and leaves shortly after the cruise ship departs.

Our next port was Puerto Vallarta, one of the more traditional and better-known (at least in the U.S.) resorts.  A pretty area with comfortable temperatures (something we haven’t had in a while), it was nice for walking around and just enjoying the day. I will admit, as a site for several of AILA’s mid-winter conferences over the years (and given that this is the week of said conference this year), I kept half-expecting an AILA member at every turn (even though the conference is NOT in PV this year).

Next up: Back in the U.S. (at least for a bit)

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble: Nicaragua

“From the beginning of Nicaragua's conquest, the Spaniards referred to the Masaya Volcano as “The Mouth of Hell” or simply “Masaya's Hell.” José G. Viramonte, Jaime Incer-Barquero , Journal of Valcanology and Geothermal Research

I rode a bus for over two hours each way—from the port of San Juan del Sur on the coast to a volcano near the Nicaraguan capital of Managua—to spend 15 minutes looking into the mouth of hell.  It was worth every second of the trip.

You see, I love volcanoes. Live ones, dormant ones, ones that have been sleeping for years.  Each has its own character, and its own results.

This one looks like the caldron of hell.  The caldera is deep—so deep that a photo (at least on my camera) cannot capture it. And smoky—that is not clouds in that pit, it is the smoke of the volcano.  And it would clear enough from moment to moment that you could see to the bottom of the pit—way, way down there.

The last major eruption was in 1776, yet the lava from that eruption looks surprisingly fresh.  There have been small eruptions since then.  In fact, there was a school trip on which some children were on the top, and felt a rumbling. Next thing you knew, they were covered in ash.  They have since started warning people that if you feel something, get out of there.  Smart advice.

Why only 15 minutes?  That’s about as long as most people’s lungs can stand the fumes.  One big puff of sulphur, and everyone was coughing.  But we all agreed that it had been worth it.

Nicaragua is trying to build a tourism industry, seeing the success of its neighbor, Costa Rica.  The volcano is part of it.  San Juan del Sur, a pretty ocean-front city, is another part. It is largely considered a surfer’s paradise, and the number of shops and bars catering to the surfers seemed to confirm this.  However, it is going to need to approach its neighbor’s political stability and handle on crime to get there. But it is interesting to see that they are trying.

Next up: Huatalco, Mexico

Rocking the Crocs: Costa Rica

“Pura vida” is the most commonly used phrase in Costa Rica.  The literal translation is “pure life,” but the saying goes beyond its simple translation: it’s about enjoying life and being happy.

_________

One of the few Latin American countries without gold to mine, Costa Rica has been spared some (but not all) of the strife that has beset its neighbors over the years. Christopher Columbus gave it its name, which translates as “rich coast” because he mistakenly believed that what he was seeing here was gold. And that was his idea of rich. Costa Rica has no gold, but he had the name right for another reason:  it is rich in natural beauty. 

Occupying a land mass that is a tiny fraction of one percent of the earth’s land surface, Costa Rica contains six percent of the planet’s flora and fauna. In recent years, it has built itself as a major tourism destination, primarily for the Americas, but also from around the world.  And it has done so by striving to protect the nature that gives it its beauty, while the people preserve the spirit that makes them some of the most hospitable in the world.

Alas, our ship was in this harbor only for 13 hours, so we needed to choose activities carefully, as few were near the small container port where we docked.  Beth and I opted for a “crocodile safari” on the Tarcoles River.  Fortunately, on this hot day there was a nice breeze on the river and thus a pleasant journey.

The crocodiles were not easy to spot—they matched perfectly the soil on the banks of the river.  So they were easier to see in the water.  I had gotten—I thought—a great photo of a baby on the bank, but see if you can find it in the photo above.  It was, according to our guide, about three years old, and looked to be less than 2 feet long.  Compare this to the adult in the photo below.

Also according to the guide, crocodile mothers remove their babies from the nest at about one week, drop them in the water, and disappear.  From that point, it is each croc for him or her self. They must figure out how to find their own food and protect themselves from predators, which include other crocs who may attack them to lessen the competition for food.  This is one reason crocodiles can be so aggressive—they find it necessary from an early age in order to survive.

Another phenomenon is taking hold now. The gender of a crocodile is determined by the air temperature at nesting time. Below a certain temperature, and you have females; above the temperature and you have males.  As the climate warms, there are fewer and fewer females being born, creating a shortage of mates for the males, who have been increasingly attacking one another—fighting over women.  The scientists studying here realized this as they started to see more and more blinded crocs. At first they thought it was some form of pollution causing it, but after some croc autopsies came to realize that it was other crocs doing it, and then noted the growing shortage of females.

During this trip, we spotted a number of other wildlife, primarily birds (including the stunning macaw) but also iguanas and “Jesus lizards”, so named because they appear to walk on water. Alas, none that we saw were demonstrating their name at the time.

Next up: San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua

The Main Event: An Engineering Marvel

 “Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory or defeat.”  ― David McCullough, The Path Between the Seas

Well, this was why I signed on to this “pre-cruise cruise”: transiting the Panama Canal.  It was so well worth it.  On the ship as a speaker is a gentleman who was a senior official of the canal during the days of American control.  The transit itself was fascinating. The details and color he added made it all the better.

It’s all done with gravity. Upon entry to the canal, the ship must rise 85 feet.  This is done in three chambers at the first lock, Gatun.  While there is a mechanical “mule” helping the ship move, the key is movement of water from one chamber to another. When the ship approaches, the water in the chambers ahead is higher than the water where the ship is. Water is then released from the forward chamber to yours, until the water levels in the two chambers are equal.  The ship moves forward into the next chamber, where the process is repeated, until the ship reaches Gatun Lake, which, at the time of its formation, was the largest man-made lake in the world.  It takes 26 million gallons of water from Gatun Lake to raise a ship to its level.

The photo attached (at least I hope it’s there—cruise ship internet can be challenging) shows a lower chamber filling from the next chamber.

The transit then takes us to two more locks, Pedro Miguel and Miraflores.  Through these locks, we then begin the descent, with Pedro Miguel lowering us by 31 feet (it had only one chamber) and Miraflores by 54 feet to Pacific Ocean level (it had two chambers).  The lowering process was as interesting as the raising process, with water flowing down from our level to raise the next level—the reverse of the Gatun process.

The building of the canal was quite a process.  The French first made an effort starting in 1882, headed by the individual responsible for the building of the Suez Canal. Unfortunately, he tried to use the approach for building a canal that were used for a flat, desert terrain in an area with a mountainous, jungle terrain. Namely, he went about trying to flatten the land to sea level rather than building a canal that would raise and lower ships to the land’s level.  After about six years, some 20,000 deaths (primarily from yellow fever and malaria), and ultimate bankruptcy, the effort was abandoned with only a short portion of a canal completed.  The below (I hope) photo shows what remains of the French effort—the little branch off to the right.

 

In 1904, the Americans picked up the effort, completing it 10 years later.  That effort also cost lives—5,600 in all.  The numbers were lower than the French effort because one of the early managers was determined that living conditions of the workers be acceptable before work progressed, and because by then it was understood that mosquitoes were the bearers of the deadliest diseases.

The canal today runs much the same way it did in 1914, relying primarily on gravity.  An expansion is being built that will enable the canal to handle today’s larger ships.  The estimated opening date is April of this year, but others are suggesting that it likely will be another year before it is ready.

The Old and the New

“It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.” Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Cartagena is very much a city that has entered the modern world, with its towering skyscrapers and active commerce. Situated on the Caribbean Sea and surrounded by protective topography, it is not prone to hurricanes unlike so many other locations on the same sea.   And since the government and FARC reached a form of peace a few years back, the city has begun in earnest to build a tourist trade, just as the country has been building a strong economy (rocked somewhat by declining oil prices—petroleum is a major export).

This is a city with a rich (and sometimes horrifying) history. It was home to a thriving indigenous culture before the arrival of the Spaniards.  Once the conquistadors arrived, it became the most important port in the Caribbean for the Europeans, as it was a nice, protected place to ship back the treasures found in South America and/or looted from the native populations. 

But with the launch of those ships came the activity of the pirates.  There were two types of pirates: buccaneers, who pillaged for their own profit, and privateers, who pillaged on behalf of their governments. One such privateer was Sir Francis Drake, whose home is in the old section of Cartagena and is now worth an estimated $7 million.  Nothing like acquiring wealth, prestige and a title by pirating.  Aaarrggh.

Cartagena’s fortifications were strong—I saw today the main fort that protected the city—and were only penetrated once, by a French attacker.  One failed attack was by the British admiral, Edward Vernon. His forces, which outnumbered the Spanish forces appreciably, were defeated not by cannons or strategy, but by their arrival in April, the apex of the hot, humid mosquito season.  More than 1,000 of his sailors died from malaria that spring.

Given the loss of the battle, and the loss of so many men, Vernon was unwilling to return to England, so he instead visited the parents of one of his men, Lawrence Washington, George Washington’s half-brother.  Vernon was embraced by the Washington family, so much so that his name became that of the first American President’s estate:  Mt Vernon.

With the conquistadors and pirates came two other scourges to the local populations:  disease and the Inquisition.  It is well-known what European diseases did to indigenous populations in the Americas.  What I had not known was that Spanish priests and missionaries decided to “convert” the people in what is now Colombia by means of torture, gruesome executions, and enslavement as punishment for worshiping a different deity and other lesser blasphemies.

But that was then. Now Colombia is growing, and Cartagena is an example of its modern presence. In addition to the home of Francis Drake, we also saw the homes of the likes of Julio Inglasias and Gabriel Garcia Marquez in the modern sections of the city.

Cartagena is a city that owns its past and is making its future.

Next up: the Panama Canal

Liberation

“Colombians! My last wish is for the happiness of the patria. If my death contributes to the end of partisanship and the consolidation of the union, I shall be lowered in peace into my grave.” Quoted in Man of Glory : Simón Bolívar (1939) by Thomas Rourke

Santa Marta: the oldest surviving city in America, founded  in 1525. In Latin American history it seems best-known for being where Simon Bolivar, El Libertador in  Laid up  by tuberculosis, he went to the sugar plantation, Quinta de San Pedro Alejandrino (owned by a Spaniard who was both friend and enemy to Bolivar) to await transport to Europe to seek treatment for his condition.  And it was here he died not long after he arrived.

seven countries’ fights for independence from Spain, died at the age of 47.

Today’s visit was to the quinta, which was built in 1608 and is now a museum.  We saw the bed in which Bolivar died, the bakery table on which his autopsy was performed (in addition to his TB, he had kidney stones---just in case that ever turns up as a trivia question), and such niceties as the bathroom that he used.  The estate itself is a botanical garden, filled with plant and animal life, including some surprisingly frisky iguanas.  In the courtyard, dancers performed some of the traditional folk dances of the indigenous people, with a dance routine that starts as something slow and elegant and some 20 minutes later becomes a lively boogie.

 

This estate is also an art museum in the newer buildings (circa 1930), today including an installation that addresses the transformation of Colombia over the past decade or so from a cartel battleground to a state trying to live in peace and convince the world to come visit.

Next up: Cartagena, Colombia.

Splashdown!

It was quite a day. I don't know what you can say about a day when you see four beautiful sunsets… . This is a little unusual, I think.

—   John Glenn, American Chronicle, 1962

Our first port of call was Grand Turk in the Turks and Caicos. We shared the port with two monster cruise ships. Given that I’ve been here before, and the crowds from the two behemoths seemed daunting, I decided that, rather than go ashore, I’d stay on the ship and take advantage of its amenities while most of my fellow travelers were away.

So instead of physically exploring, it was time to mentally explore.  From a U.S.-centric view, two historic events are of note here. One was Columbus’ landing on what is now Turks and Caicos in 1492.  So I scoured the view of the island, imagining that encounter with the island’s residents, and their encounter with him and his crew.

But the event that was most in mind happened in February 1964, when John Glenn splashed down in his space capsule off the coast of Turks and Caicos, after completing the first orbit of the earth by an American.  My father’s early career involved technical writing for space program contractors, so that program was a frequent topic of interest in my home while growing up.  I sat on the ship wondering if perhaps we were anchored in the spot where he came down, and how he must have felt to accomplish such a seemingly impossible task. 

Next up: Santa Marta, Colombia

And We're Off

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.  Explore. Dream. Discover." -Generally attributed to Mark Twain

And so the adventure begins.

Boarding the ship was an easy, efficient, and friendly affair.  They let us on at noon, even though our rooms wouldn’t be ready until 3:00.  But there’s plenty of ship to occupy us, particularly as they made provision to check our carry-ons.  So a leisurely lunch was in order, where we began to meet shipmates, some of whom, like us, would be staying on for the full “world cruise” (the cruiseline calls it a world cruise, but it is actually a Pacific cruise).  

By the time we reached our room, our luggage was there. Two women on a 4-month cruise.  Which translates to 3 suitcases and one carry-on each, plus an extra bag filled with the toiletries we’d purchased at a nearby CVS before boarding the ship, for a tally of 9 bags in a fairly small area. Our first challenge was to find enough space to unpack, as well as a pathway to walk to put things away.  That evening was daunting, and by bedtime I was sure we were going to have to tape things to the ceiling.

By morning (thankfully, a day at sea so we’d have more time to settle in), we awoke refreshed enough to get things organized.  By the time we finished, and with the help of our room stewardess who took away anything in the room we thought we wouldn’t need (really, two bathrobes apiece?) as well as most of our suitcases, everything was stowed, with space to spare.  Yep, we’re pretty proud of ourselves. 

In between, there were classes, lectures, exploring the ship, chatting with people, and a touch of relaxing.  I took the knitting class, knitting being one of those things on my “want to try once I’m retired” list. Let’s just say it’s good that I never tried to make a living with my hands.

With another 120 days on the ship ahead of us, we’re scoping out favorite venues.  A lovely shaded area near the pool. The Bistro (where I am sitting to write this), a nice place for a good coffee.  The Crystal Cove, a bar off the lobby (as a 30-year AILA member, I do gravitate to lobby bars).  The Avenue Saloon, with its great pianist (who, alas will not be on for the world cruise). 

Each morning the cruise director does a show on the on-ship television channel called “Good Morning, Crystal.” I feel so honored to have a show aimed just at me. 

Dinner is at a set time and with an assigned group—something that I’m not accustomed to in cruising, but am adapting. Fortunately, we have a pleasant group. There is a show almost every evening after dinner. Last night’s was the resident troupe performing British singers’ songs from the 1960s and 70s.  Good in parts, not so much in others.

And that’s what the first day at sea looked like.  Next up: Grand Turk.

All My Bags Are Packed. Am I Ready to Go?

 “You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely.” ~Ogden Nash

I've long prided myself on my ability to pack light. But when you are going to be away for four months, and on a ship where one dresses--to one extent or another--for dinner, that gets a little complicated. So, here I am with two large suitcases, one medium, and one small filled with stuff. Oddly, if you don't count shoes, the clothing probably could have all fit in one large suitcase.  It's all the other paraphernalia of living in a 269 square foot (including balcony) cabin for 121 days that bulks you up.

Fortunately, the cruise line reimburses for airline excess baggage fees up to $500.

Am I ready to go?  Well, the decorations need to come off of that tree, and the tree taken down and out, and the needles cleaned up.  Plus a few odds and ends needed when you're going to be away for a while.  But, yes, apart from that, I am ready to go.

My next check-in will be from aboard the Crystal Serenity.

















                                                                                                      What packing for a 4-month cruise looks like.