Shared Experiences Make Fast Friends

We were assigned to a dining table for evening meals at the beginning of our cruise. This is always a crap shoot. Sometimes you get compatible and interesting table mates, like the time we were seated with a pair of WWII vets. Sometimes you get people who try to coerce you into their interests, like the fellow who was obsessed with something called "pickle ball" and wouldn't rest until the DH met him on the sports deck for a game.

This time we were fortunate to be placed with Bruce and Judy from California. 

Between the four of us, we've solved the world's problems over dinner several times and often linger over our desert for the joy of continuing our pleasant conversations. So we decided to meet on Nuku Hiva, our last port of call, for a walk-about together.  

I was a little leery about this island because of its head-hunting past and not-so-distant incidence of possible cannibalism. (In 2011, a German tourist went missing and was later found dead under very mysterious circumstances.) But I was pleasantly surprised when we stepped off the tender. The islanders were friendly and the town of Taiohae clean and well-kept.

Still, we kept within sight of the Westerdam...

But this was mostly because it was so very hot and humid that walking too far in those conditions was difficult for me. My portable oxygen concentrator has to work overtime to provide the support I need when there's so much moisture in the air. But we managed to make it far enough down the beach to find a monument to French sailors who died in a battle in those waters in the early 1800's. They must have felt like they'd come to the end of the world. I know I feel a fresh appreciation for the monumental size of the Pacific and I have the benefit of a state of the art cruise ship under my feet instead of a 19th century tall ship.

The waterfront is dotted with numerous carvings. They're so primitive, they appear strangely modern. 

And since I started this post talking about dinner companions, I'll end it with a pic of one of the unique entrees I've enjoyed on the cruise. This is Nasi Goreng, an Indonesian dish. It's pork satay, spicy chicken and beef Sumatra on a bed of fried rice. It's garnished with scallions, red onion, cucumbers and a julienne omelet. The thing that looks like a fried pig's ear is actually a prawn cracker. Yum!

If you haven't already, let me invite you to sign up for my author newsletter. Once I get home, my newsletter readers will be receiving a number of recipes I've collected from the Cuisinary Arts Center on board. I'll also be sharing more pictures from our trip once I'm back on our home wifi. 

It takes F-O-R-E-V-E-R for photos to download here on the ship. 

Thanks for coming along with me on the voyage!

Sacred Spaces

As long as humans have lived on this planet, we've looked up into the night sky and longed to talk to the One who made the stars. Like Jacob, who set up a stone after he dreamed about a ladder reaching to heaven, we tend to mark certain places that have given us a sense of special connection to the divine.

Since it's Sunday, I thought I'd share a few pics of this sort of place from several of our very soggy shore excursions. We'll be island hopping a bit.

This first picture is of St. Benedict's from the Big Island of Hawai'i. The church structure was built around 1899 and then a Belgian missionary priest painted the interior scenes (with house paint of all things!) There are idyllic scenes of creation and, in stark contrast, a truly nightmarish depiction of hell on the opposite section of the walls. All the painting has been recently touched up, except for the view of the underworld. Evidently, its purpose is fulfilled without additional embellishment.

Belshazzar's feast--Note the handwriting on the wall...

A closer view of the altar (without anonymous heads in the way!)

Jesus rejecting the temptations of Satan

Hell (Sort of needs no explanation, doesn't it?)

The church is still in use by an active congregation. There is a a sweet stillness about it and the green gardens around it add to the peacefulness of the place.

Also near Kona, there is a special place of refuge called Pu'uhonua o Honaunau. If someone broke a kapu, such as letting your shadow fall on the chief's land, there was no trial. The ancient Hawaiians had no prisons. The punishment for any infraction was death.

Unless...

If you could reach a pu'uhonau, you could be forgiven and after 3 days released without further punishment. Of course, this particular pu'uhonau was bounded on all landward sides by the chief's land, so there was no walking to it. An offender must take his chances in the shark infested surf in order to escape his death sentence.

When Christian missionaries came, most of the places of refuge were torn down, but this one survived fairly intact. Several members of the Hawaiian royal family are buried there.

More lava than sand on this beach

The carved posts guarding the place of refuge were fierce-looking.

Ancient double hull canoe

Between the surf, the sharks and the lava that would slash a swimmer's feet once he staggered to shore, finding refuge was not for the faint of heart. But the site was dedicated to life, so human sacrifice was not performed on the grounds.

The same cannot be said for other marae. We saw these volcanic rock open air temples on nearly every island we visited, but the one on Tahiti, the main island of French Polynesia, was the largest and most complex.

This marae was guarded by large male and female tiki figures. The statues are not worshipped as gods, but are thought to hold mana (power) during the rituals. The ancient Tahitians had many gods and the rites performed here were to placate them and urge them to aid the people in some special undertaking--a war with a neighboring tribe or a migration to a new island. Only men were allowed inside the marae, but lest we ladies feel put upon about that, remember that the person chosen for sacrifice was picked from those inside the stone walls.

Clearly, this was not a time to be on the outs with the priests!

Tiki figures were not worshipped. Instead they were thought to hold mana or power, which could be tapped into.  I'm sad to report that some of my fellow passengers made fun of the figures by taking pictures of themselves imitating the posture and expression of the statues. I had to wonder how they'd feel if a Tahitian visited their hometown, went to sites that were dear to them and laughed at their culture or beliefs.  

Now most Polynesians are Christian, about 80% Protestant and 20% Catholic. We were delighted to hear the same table prayer we use sung in Hawaiian. While we're loving this trip and totally enjoying the ship, I have to admit I miss my church. But God, a personal, eternal, omnipotent God, is here in the middle of the Pacific. And however imperfectly we understand Him, however inadequate our worship, He's already reached down to us.

He's just waiting for us to reach up.

Something Cancelled, Something Gained

This morning we learned that our Glass Bottom Boat excursion on Bora Bora was cancelled due to bad weather (read: occasional torrential downpours!) and poor visibility. However, we refused to let a little thing like that get us down. Who knows when or if we'll ever see this island again? As long as the ship's tenders were running, we were bound and determined to have an adventure!

On shore, we found a nice young man named Bruce who offered us a circle of the island tour in his air conditioned Land Rover. He was born on Vanau (the real name of the island of Bora Bora.) His father is an American who came here to run one of the fabulous resorts, and ended up marrying a Tahitian woman. Bruce speaks English, French, Spanish, and Tahitian. He's married and has two beautiful kids.

We learned that formal education ends at age 16 here in the islands and there is no university on Bora Bora. Many people used to work in the tourism industry, but since 9/11, the number of visitors has dropped considerably. There are easily a half dozen resorts standing empty and employing only enough groundskeepers to keep the vegetation from taking over the buildings.

Bruce says that other than needing to pay for water (which is provided by the French government through an expensive desalinization plant) and electricity (also through the government) many people have few bills. The government provides health care, including medications. The residents grow their own fruit and vegetables. They raise chickens and hogs. They fish in the abundant waters around the island. And, I'm sorry to have to tell you, they also enjoy eating wild dog. We saw dozens of these miserable creatures slinking around the island. But this is the culture and I can only thank God I've never been hungry enough to eat dog.

The island is spectacular, lush and heavily overgrown. Multiple waterfalls cascade down the steep mountainsides. The lovely, calm interior bay is actually an ancient caldera, the remains of the volcano that gave birth to the island.

During WWII, the US military had a strong presence in French Polynesia. There are still man-made caves that housed cannon to defend the harbor. And in what seems to us today an astonishing disregard for the environment, the harbor was made easier for destroyers to enter by blowing up part of the reef.  Of course, it also made it easier for our cruise ship to visit, too.

As wonderful as the scenery is, the people are even more lovely. We stopped at one road-side shop operated by a family. They offered us samples of fresh coconut, breadfruit and grapefruit. I passed on the grapefruit, but the breadfruit was amazing--like nothing I've ever tasted before. A truly unusual texture as well.

Here's the DH taking a sip of extremely fresh coconut milk. The natives use every bit of the plant, from fiber to weave into necklaces and use as tinder to fermenting the shells into coconut oil for use in skin treatments. We also watched the natives use flowers and other plants to create dyes for the sarongs the island women wear.

The welcoming committee

Bruce prepares fresh coconut for us.

WWII canon cave

This older resort was once owned by Marlon Brando!

There's a reason the island is so lush and green. Liquid sunshine falls in abundance!

We also visited Bloody Mary's Bar (think Rogers & Hammerstein's South Pacific!) and walked along a stretch of golden sand, letting the warm waters of the ocean caress our calves. The tour was so much better, so much richer an experience than riding in a Glass Bottom Boat.

Today reminded me that it's foolish to be upset if your plans have to change. Life is filled with moments when things don't go our way.

But it doesn't have to mean things can't be even better than we'd planned. We had a ball on Bora Bora!

Taking in the Local Culture...

Last night we tied up to the pier on Raiatea and for the first time in over 10 days, slept without the pitch and roll of our "water bed." This morning we wakened to a veritable anvil chorus of roosters--each of them trying to out-scream each other. Evidently, the birds roam freely, like on Kauai.

After breakfast in our cabin, we hurried off the ship to see what we could. Because of the rain and worsening conditions, ALL the Holland America excursions were cancelled. But that didn't stop the Raiateans from giving us a very warm welcome just a few blocks away from the ship. Part of the charm of travel is seeing how other people live, how they celebrate what makes them unique. Here's just a taste of what we experienced:

We were so glad we braved the rain! 

In Praise of Travel Insurance

This is the first time we decided to buy travel insurance for our cruise. Even though we hope not to use it, I have to admit it gives me real peace of mind. Especially after what happened this morning...

We've been at sea for a number of days (Read: Since we left Kona, Hawai'i and breezed past Fanning Island without stopping, I don't remember the last time the floor wasn't rocking under my feet!) But as we came alongside the windward side of the beautiful island of Rarotonga, I didn't hold out much hope. There's no pier here, so the cruise ship has to drop anchor, lower the tenders (which double as life boats) and ferry passengers to shore in groups of 120 or so.

The captain did his best. He tried several different times to situate the Westerdam so she wouldn't drift in the rolling swells. The anchor wouldn't hold. The tenders were pitching so violently alongside, there was no way they could allow non-crew members to make the leap from the platform near the waterline into the open tender hatch. One misstep and someone could be crushed between the tender and the ship. So the captain cancelled the port of call.

However, the crew of the Westerdam put half a dozen tenders into the water to ferry in the donations the ship had intended to leave at Fanning Island. The Red Cross on Rarotonga was happy to meet them at the dock to receive the goods and promised to try to send some of it to Fanning. Then one of the passengers, who's medical situation was more than the ship's infirmary could deal with, was lifted carefully on a gurney and taken by tender to the waiting ambulance, and an emergency medical airlift to Australia. 

Let me be quick to say that cruising is one of the best ways for someone with health challenges to travel. There are a number of guests who, like me, require supplemental O2. There are many wheelchairs and motorized scooters on board. There are even a few blind passengers. The crew bends over backward to help. And the fact that there is a fully staffed medical center with doctors and nurses, x-ray machines and all sorts of bells and whistles, means they can take care of lots of things that come up.

But when they can't, the Holland American line moves heaven and earth to get their guests to on shore help. And that's where travel insurance comes in. 

If, God forbid, something happened that required Brian or I to need to be airlifted home, the insurance we bought will spend up to a million dollars to get us there. Since we're sort of in the middle of nowhere, (the Pacific Ocean is the largest geographic feature on the planet, after all!) emergency medical flights from here might just run up to that. It's comforting to know we've got it covered just in case.

So now we're on our way to Raiatea and real pier. It's almost time for another splendid supper in the Vista dining room and the show tonight is an Elton John impersonator. We should recognize a lot of the songs. 

Even if we haven't been able to walk the beaches on Rarotonga, life is good. And we feel very safe on the Westerdam. 

No day at the Raratongan beach

But it's all good. After missing two ports in succession, Holland America has offered us all a credit toward a future cruise equal to 15% of what we paid for this trip! The cruise line can't be held responsible for poor weather conditions, but they want to keep their passengers happy and loyal. So we're splurging on a Signature Suite for our September 2017 Alaskan cruise on the Eurodam! 

Hope you'll check out my North to Alaska! blog.

Welcome to the Westerdam

Well, we've been at sea since . . . oh, Monday, I think. The days are starting to run together and weeks seem kind of fluid when you cross the international dateline, lose a day and then regain it, ending up with TWO Fridays. The crew is kind enough to remind us what day it is by changing the carpet in the elevators, but which Friday we were on was anyone's guess!

Anyway, I thought I'd give you a tour of our floating resort, the Holland America Westerdam. I love the ship. It always seems as much a destination as any of the ports of call. Like a small town on the waves, it has everything you might want. For example, there's a library in case you've left your e-reader behind. There's even an on board book club.

For people who like to gamble, there's a casino. I usually avoid it when I can because it's the one place on the ship where smoking is allowed. Since I'm on supplemental O2, cigarette smoke is not recommended. But, if you enjoy slots or blackjack, you can lose money any time we're not in port.

I adore art, so the gallery is a favorite haunt of mine. There are several auctions scheduled for various times during the cruise. So far, I've resisted raising my bidding number, but the cruise isn't over yet. There's another one scheduled for this afternoon, so we'll see if I can keep from adding to my collection. I'm afraid to pick a bright hues for my walls or furniture, but my artwork serves as wild splashes of color in my home. The signed print shown here is a Chagall--far more expensive than anything I'd try for, but it's fun to see a fine work like this up close and personal. Just imagine! If only I were willing to sell a kidney, it could be mine!

The chefs on board are gracious enough to do culinary demonstrations almost every day. And they share their recipes too! In case you missed it, I posted a Sweet & Spicy Pork recipe earlier, and plan to share a great one for Shrimp Kabobs on my newsletter once I get home again. (Hint! This is your cue to sign up for my newsletter in the form to the right!)

Those of you who know me, know that I am the Anti-Shopper, but the ship makes picking up nice things for family and friends easy. There's a clothing shop, and a very spendy jewelry shop that we have to walk through each time we make our way to the Vista Dining Room. They change out the stock as often as most folks change their socks, so if you see something you want, you need to nab it.

Of course, the ship has a big pool and hot tubs on the Lido Deck. But the DH and I have made the spa and Thermal Suite our home away from home. This is a private section of the ship with a large whirlpool and heated stone lounges. We nap on them almost every day.

Then there are the card clubs, trivia games, lectures and classes available. Speaking of which...our native guide Kainoa is about to give a talk on Papeete, Tahiti and it pays to arrive in the theater early if you want a good seat.

More to pics from around the ship...

Kainoa, our island guide

One of the many towel animals that greet us each evening

The ladies at the spa--our happy place!

The DH on the deck

His Viking heritage insures that he never suffers from mal de mer. I however, am a member of the Scopalamine Patch Club!

The crew is wonderful--always cheerful and so very helpful.

We are HERE.