Never Have I Ever on a Cruise Ship...

I've done several things on this cruise that I've never done on a ship before. For example:

1. I sent clothes out to be laundered. I've used the self-serve laundromat on cruise ships before, but the Westerdam doesn't have one. Hence, the need to let someone else fold my undies.
2. I sang karioke.  Yes, I have a music degree and all, but I've never stood up in front of a bunch of strangers with a microphone and tried to sing to a taped accompaniment without at least one practice run through. Until this trip.
3. I found out first hand where the infirmary is.  

Yep, I made a trip to the shipboard doc yesterday. But it wasn't for me. My DH developed a bad cough and when his eyes started looking red and infected, I insisted that he visit the infirmary. The doc fixed him up with antibiotic eye drops and a stronger decongestant than we'd brought with us. He's resting well and feeling better now.

And the fourth thing I've never done on a cruise ship:

        4. I decided not to go ashore to protect the natives. 

When Captain Cook first visited the Hawaiian Islands in the 18th century, he estimated there were almost a million inhabitants. Within 70 years, there were only 88,000. The English brought new diseases for which the islanders had no immunity whatsoever.  

Before the captain cancelled our call to the remote island of Tabuaeran, the DH and I had already decided we'd remain on board ship. If we're bearing viruses, we want to keep them to ourselves.

That goes for our fellow passengers too. A ship is sort of a floating petri dish. We've been keeping to our cabin while this cold virus works its way out of our systems. When we do venture out, we take pains not to touch anything and make frequent use of the hand sanitizers. 

Of course, I do that anyway since my immune system is suppressed by the meds I take. But now I'm doing it to protect others instead of feeling precious about myself. 

That's actually a nice change. 

Fanning Island, Almost...

After leaving Hawai'i, we turned our noses south and cruised for two days, before we finally fetched up alongside Fanning Island early this morning.

It's real name is Tabuaeran and it's part of the very small country of Kiribati (pronounced "Kee-ree-bahs"). The island is a thin cusp of land around the edge of an atoll (read: extinct, eroded volcano) with a fifty foot deep lagoon in the middle. It roughly forms the shape of a footprint, which is what Tabuaeran means in Gilbertese, the language spoken by the 2000 souls who live there. The highest point on Tabuaeran is only 12 ft. above sea level, which makes it one of the most vulnerable places for human habitation in the whole wide world.

There is no electricity. No public water works. People rely on rain catchment systems. 95% of the folks who live there have never worn shoes, even though walking is the main way of getting from point A to point B. We were told to expect to see grass huts. People farm kelp and fashion handmade crafts to earn an average wage of $10 a month. The grocery store is a simple building. No one goes into it. They simply meet the grocer at the dutch door and tell him what staples they need. He takes the Spam or other canned goods from the shelves and hands them over the half door. The island receives supplies by ship four times a year.

As a result, there are no services on the island for visitors. If we want something to eat or drink, we must bring it from the ship. We can't take what little the residents have, even if we can pay handsomely for it. What good is our money to them if they run out of supplies before the next ship comes?

Holland America brings extras to the island--building materials, school books & supplies, medicines, clothing, toiletries, and dry goods. And with the influx of tourists who will snap up shell necklaces and distribute goodies, the day when the cruise ship comes turns into something of festival with singing and dancing and fun in the sun.

But this morning when the Westerdam arrived, the sky was lowering. Rain came down in buckets and a squall broke over the island, blasting us with 40 knot winds. The visibility dropped to zero. Tabuaeran is a tender port, which means there's no pier for our ship to tie up on. We'd have to board the small tender boats and ride the waves in, pitching and rolling. Instead, our captain ordered the anchor raised and we pulled away without setting a toe on the atoll. He came over the loud speaker and apologized for cancelling the port of call, but the safety of the passengers and his crew is his first priority.

There was a good bit of belly-aching around the ship, but I appreciated the captain for making that choice. Seeing people living as Hawaiians did 300 years ago would have been fascinating, but it's not worth life and limb. Besides, the fact that we sailed away without stopping is much worse for the islanders, who were expecting a windfall, than for us, who were merely hoping for a National Geographic moment.

And anyway, the DH and I had already decided we weren't going ashore. I'll explain why in my "Never Have I Ever..." post.

Finding the Strawberry in the Situation

I try to look on the bright side. I really do.

And why shouldn't I? Here I am on a luxurious ship, traveling to places I've only dreamed of. But sometimes, lugging around Herkimer (my portable oxygen concentrator) gets a little tiresome. My POC makes my mobility possible, but he's also awkward in tight places and in a crowd I live in fear that someone will trip over his rolling cart.

It helps that when we leave the ship for the uneven ground of a shore excursion, my DH wears Herkimer on his back. Of course, this means we're tethered together by my 7 ft. cannula, but fortunately, we enjoy each other's company. Occasionally, we get tangled up and have to do a few pirouettes, but then we soldier on.

So, there's the strawberry in the situation. I may be dependent on Herkimer for the extra O2 I need, but I'm so tremendously blessed to have a husband I can count on to help lighten my load.

I need him like I need my next breath. And because of him, even with this lung disease, I'm the luckiest woman alive.

When You Don't Say "I Do..."

We all know the magic words that clinch the marriage vows. It's those lovely two syllables--"I do." (Of course, my dad always warned that you should be very sure before you say "I do," because you surely will!)

But I learned that not all wedding ceremonies are the same. In fact, the right word to seal the deal in a Polynesian wedding is "no!" Let me explain.

In the Tahiti village at the Polynesian Cultural Center, my DH and I got to attend a traditional Tahitian wedding. First, this lovely couple performed a beautiful stylized courtship dance.

Then the bride's mother chased the groom away with a broom! After that, the priest called the wedding party to enter the sacred space. Those shiny circles on his headdress and pectoral are abalone shells with the mother of pearl side out to reflect light.

Instead of asking "Do you take this woman/man to be your wedded wife/husband?" a Tahitian priest asks "Will you ever leave your husband/wife?" And the newly weds answer, "No." After the vows, the couple is wrapped in a single colorful blanket to symbolize that they two are now one.

As they went through the ceremony, all the married observers were invited to renew their vows. So the DH and I promised each other a happy, tearful "no" along with the newlyweds. Since we're celebrating our upcoming 40th anniversary, it was a precious moment indeed.

_________

More pics from the wedding...

So I Married a Tonganese Warrior...

Yesterday, we visited the Polynesian Cultural Center on Oahu. It's a fascinating place laid out in half a dozen little villages, each representing a different island people. Sponsored by the LDS church, most of the kids who work there are students at the Hawaii campus of BYU. They were all unfailingly polite and the dancers were incredibly talented.

But dance wasn't the only skill on display. In the Samoan village, we watched a young man shinny up a coconut tree as easily as if it had a ladder attached. I have no idea how he did it.

And barefoot, no less!

We were treated to fire making demonstrations, basket weaving with banana leaves and island games.

By mid-afternoon, we'd been walking a long way. One of the guys in our group was wearing a Fit-Bit, and it pegged out at 10,000 steps. So we took a break and watched a flotilla of costumed performers on double hull canoes. The dance steps looked tricky enough on dry land, but to dance well on a bobbing raft took some real skill.
The dancers on the Fiji boat were so energetic, the craft started rocking  out of control. The kid manning the rudder lost his balance and fell into the lagoon!

But the best part of the day was when my DH was called up to drum for the presentation in the Tonga village. Of course, he was fitted for a grass skirt, but I discovered that he had the camera in his pocket so I couldn't get a picture, doggone it! Anyway, I snapped a pic of him and the fellow running the show afterward. As you can see, he's got the banana leaf crown to prove it happened.

First, the Tonga warrior leaped to center stage, waved his arms and loosed a growling string of words that went something like "OodaBloggaMowmowRhutabega." (At least that's what it sounded like to me.) Then he pointed to my DH and told him to do the same.

Being a good sport, my DH leapt to center stage, waved his arms wildly and shouted "What He Said!"

The crowd ate it up with a spoon.

Then it was time for a drum duel. I think my DH surprised the warrior because he kept up with him pretty well. Guess it pays to be a percussionist in college! But finally the rhythms got too wild for him to follow, so my DH slowed down to a steady boom-boom-cha, boom-boom cha, leaned into the microphone and sang, "We will, we will ROCK YOU!"

He totally stole the show! And he already has my heart, so it was great day to be him. In case you can't tell, we are having a blast!

More to come, m'dears...
_________________
A few more pics from the Polynesian Cultural Center

 

A Taste of Hawaii

As you probably know, trying out new foods is a big part of the cruising experience. I always like to choose things I wouldn’t make at home. So far, I’ve had escargot, rack of lamb with mint jelly and calamari fritti.  And part of the fun is in the presentation of the food.

Here are the beef medallions my DH had for an appetizer one night. I swear the meat was sliced thin enough to read a newspaper through, but he says it was seasoned so well, he didn’t mind that there wasn’t much of it. After all, an appetizer isn’t supposed to fill you up.

According to Kainoa, our native island guide, food has always been important to the Hawaiian people. When the first immigrants from the Marchesas wandered north in their gigantic double hulled canoes, some of the most important things they brought with them was food—poi, yams, breadfruit, and their favorite meats, chickens, pigs and (I’m sorry to have to tell you) dogs.

I’m mildly adventurous in the dining room, but I won’t be trying anything remotely canine.

One of the activities aboard ship is cooking classes at the Culinary Arts Center. Today we watched one of the chefs prepare SWEET & SPICY SEARED PORK CHOPS WITH ISLAND SLAW.

Here’s the recipe. Brace your feet. There’s a ton of ingredients, but it’s so worth the effort. I plan to give it a whirl myself when I get home.

Ingredients for Island Slaw (serves 4)

½ cup cider vinegar

2 TBS honey

3 TBS soy sauce

½ cup vegetable oil

¼ cup sesame oil

1 TBS crushed red pepper

2 TBS ground cumin

¼ cup chopped cilantro leaves

¼ cup scallions, finely diced

1  jalapeno, seeded and finely diced

Salt & pepper to taste

1 cup julienne carrot (about one large carrot)

5 cups thinly sliced red & green cabbage

1 cup julienne red bell pepper (about one pepper)

2 cups diced pineapple

¾ cup toasted, chopped macadamian nuts

Whisk together the vinegar, honey, and soy sauce. Drizzle in the oils in a steady stream, whisking to emulsify. Whisk in the crushed red pepper, cumin, cilantro, scallion, and jalapeno. Season to taste with salt and pepper. In a large bowl, combine carrot, cabbage, red pepper, pineapple and nuts and mix well. Add the dressing to the vegetables and mix well again.

Place some slaw on a plate. Top with chops and drizzle with a bit of the reduced marinade.

For the chops marinade

½ cup hoisin sauce

¼ cup soy sauce

2 TBS sesame oil

2 TBS rice vinegar (can substitute cider vinegar)

1 TBS minced garlic

1 TBS minced ginger

½ Teaspoon red pepper flakes

2 (1/2 inch thick) pork chops

¼ cup honey

Vegetable oil

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees

In a large bowl, combine the hoisin, soy sauce, sesame oil, rice vinegar, garlic, ginger and red pepper flakes. Add the pork chops and turn to coat. Remove the chops from the marinade.

Save the marinade and combine with honey in a medium sauce pan. Bring the honey marinade mixture to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for 10 minutes.

Heat an oven-proof skillet over high heat, coat bottom of skillet with vegetable oil and sear the chops until golden brown on both sides, about 4 minutes per side. Pour the reduced marinade over the chops and bake for 10 minutes.

Remove the chops from the oven and set aside a few minutes to rest. After plating the chops, drizzle with a little of the marinade.

Sounds good, right?  

Yeah, but it also sounds like more time on the treadmill to me. Fortunately while we're on board, I get a mile on the machines in the gym. And another couple of miles just walking from our cabin to the dining room twice a day. That ought to count for something.

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking with it!

Note: On Thursday, we make landfall in Honolulu. The DH and I will be at the Polynesian Cultural Center pretty much all day, so I probably won't post again till Friday. See you then!

My Life as a Regency Lady on the High Seas...

When I used to write Regency set romances as Mia Marlowe, I was amazed at how often ladies of that era changed their clothes during a normal day.

They’d rise and take their breakfast en dishabille, an outfit suitable for only family or receiving very close friends. Then if they wished to take some exercise, a lady would don her riding habit and head for the stables. After that, it was time for a morning dress, though it might well be afternoon before she slipped into it. This was the ensemble for paying calls or remaining at home to receive callers. Later, a dressing gong would sound, reminding the regency lady that she had only an hour to change into her evening finery for dinner.

I’m sort of feeling like that now on our cruise.

I start out by changing from my jammies to my colorful mumu so I don’t embarrass the server who delivers our in-cabin breakfast. Some days we go down to the dining room for more choices and to visit with our fellow travelers, but having breakfast in the room is very relaxing and takes less time. 

After the meal, I’m ready for some exercise, so it’s time to switch into my jogging pants and tunic and head for the gym. There is a long bank of elipticals and weight machines, but I try to snag a treadmill that looks out over the bow of the ship. The rolling blue deeps stretch on forever as I pound out my daily mile.

And I do mean deep. The ocean bottoms out at over 14000 ft right now!   

After a shower, I put on one of my “resort casual” outfits—capris, a comfy top, sandals and sun visor. This blue & gray number is appropriate for lunching in the main dining room, going to an art auction, or learning to dance the hula!

Yes, that's right. I'm learning a few steps of the hula and let me tell you, it is much more difficult than it looks. My hands go one way while my feet go another and all the while my hips have to look like they have someplace to go too. 

Sometime in the afternoon,  I’ll don my swim suit and cover up so the DH and I can go to the Thermal Suite. There’s a huge hot tub filled with mineral water and submerged lounges. Then after we prune up in there for a while, we move to the heated stone beds for a nap.

I know it sounds really weird to think about sleeping on stone, but trust me, it’s heaven!

Then finally, like the Regency lady who obeys the dressing gong, we get all spiffed up for supper too. Not every night is a formal night on board. In fact, Holland America calls them “Gala Nights” now so no one feels obligated to rent a tux. I’ll be wearing this long purple gown with a diaphanous throw over it. The necklace is handmade of Hawaiian kukui nuts. The DH is sporting a lavender shirt (coordinated with my outfit so it looks like I’ve marked my territory!) and suit pants with matching vest. No jacket. He’s on vacation!

So that’s a peek into my fashion day on board the Westerdam. I’ve never changed clothes so often in my life, but with the diverse activities available, it sort of makes sense. Now I just have to hope I’ve packed enough different outfits (mixing & matching, of course!) to get me through the next 27 days!