Her Name Was Lola - October 29

The sea was angry that day, my friends.

                            — George Costanza

There had been a few announcements yesterday evening, warning us that it was going to get bad, and explaining that there was no way to avoid the bad weather. It was, said the Captain, the “remnants” of Cyclone Lola, and we had to go through it to get to New Zealand. If you want to know the difference between a cyclone, a typhoon, and a hurricane, click here: Difference between cyclone and hurricane 

By the time we went to bed last night, it was starting to get very bumpy - so bumpy you just wanted to get into bed as fast as you could. It was too hard to walk or stand or try to put things away.

When we woke up this morning, the water was furious; the waves were heaving and churning. 

Normally the drapes are back against the wall, but every time the ship rolled, the drapes would swing out several inches. In other words, the drapes remained vertical when the walls tilted.

We are up high, so it’s hard to get a good sense of the scale of these waves.
The Captain later said 6.5 meters (about 20 feet).

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel nauseous, but I did feel uncomfortable and unbalanced. It was hard to do anything in our cabin. Because we were on the aft and on a fairly high deck, the motion was more extreme in our cabin than in other parts of the ship. Our best strategy was to leave the cabin ASAP and hunker down nearer to the center of the ship on Deck 6 or 7. 

We went to breakfast (no problem eating 😋) and then I went to Knitters and Knatters, where we talked about all the different times we had been on cruises during hurricanes and typhoons and we gamed out all the possible new itineraries that might be announced. 

Originally we were scheduled to dock in Auckland on October 30, in Tauranga on October 31, and in Bay of Islands on November 1. A woman who lived in Tauranga thought we would skip Auckland and go straight to Tauranga, where the storm was not so bad. Most of us thought the ship would make every effort to stop in Auckland, because it was a turnaround port. At a turnaround port passengers end or begin a cruise. In this case, 750 passengers were to disembark at Auckland, and 800 were to join the ship. That’s about 25% of the passengers.

Not too much later, more details were announced:

• The Port of Auckland was currently closed. 
• We would proceed to a sheltered anchorage near Auckland, arriving there some time after midnight tonight, and we would anchor there until the port reopened and we were permitted to dock. 

We decided to spend some time in the Concierge Lounge because it was closer to the center of the ship. I thought it would be a nice quiet place to read. Not so much.

Darko was rushing about, getting ready for the Ocean Theme Party this evening. When we experienced an especially strong wave, I heard the sound of shattering glassware. Darko peeked inside one of the glassware cabinets and I could see glittering shards of martini glasses and other cocktail glasses on the floor of the cabinet. He closed the door very quickly. I don’t think he wanted me to see it. And he certainly didn’t want to risk any glasses falling out. He called someone and asked them to send some of the bar staff up to help.

I decided it was a good time to leave and give Darko and the staff some privacy to clean up the mess. Besides, I had to go back to our room and put on something blue or aqua, in keeping with the ocean theme of the party. As if we needed to be reminded about the ocean.

A short digression to provide context for the next event: One or two nights ago, we heard a comedian tell a story about dropping a big bottle of shampoo while in the shower, making a loud crash. About a minute later his wife sticks her head in the door and asks if he is ok. He says to her that she is 58 seconds too late. That was the joke. It’s not important whether it is funny or not.

Back to the storm: When I got back to our room, Ken says he is  going to take a shower. He starts the shower. A big wave hits the ship. I hear a big crash in the bathroom. 

I wasn’t going to see if Ken was ok because he usually gets annoyed by that type of thing. Then I remembered the joke, so, as a joke, I rushed over to the bathroom and stuck my head in and asked if he was ok. He was ok, but it was a near miss and  he was in shock. The wave had caused the ship to lurch suddenly, and Ken was thrown against the shower door. The door opened and he slid completely out of the shower, managing to stop himself with his hands against the counter by the sink.

We made it to Darko’s Ocean Theme Party. All the glass had been cleaned up, and you never would have known anything happened. The blue-themed party was a lot of fun. Here’s a cute video Darko made of us - 7 seconds:

These are the blue drinks the bartenders concocted

At dinner, the dining room was much emptier than usual. Even some of the waitstaff were out sick. After dinner we went to the theater because it was better than going to our room, The theater was only about 20% full. The show turned out to be good - we saw a “vocal impressionist” named Tricia Kelly. She was a good singer and did a good job imitating famous singers.

Finally, we went back to our room and jumped into bed as quickly as possible. Somehow I fell asleep, though I woke up several times during the night. The wind continued to blow and the boat rocked, even after we anchored in the sheltered cove.

Today’s fabric is Fall Fantasy Flannels Storm, by Moda.

Onward to the Antipodes - October 28

Captain Jack Sparrow’s cappuccino

Now that we have crossed the Equator and the International Date Line, we are starting to hear the word “antipodes” rather often. It is the plural of “antipode,” and it means (according to Merriam-Webster) a point on the earth that is diametrically opposite. It can also mean “the exact opposite.” “Antipodes” is often used in reference to Australia and New Zealand, the assumption being that those places are at the opposite point on the earth from Great Britain, which is considered ground zero (of course). People in Australia and New Zealand do not, as far as I know, refer to Great Britain as the Antipodes, although it would be equally correct to do so. 

This lopsidedness leads me to suspect that there is (or was) a slightly pejorative innuendo to the word, a suggestion that the Antipodes is an uncivilized place, because it is the opposite of Great Britain. But, when “Antipodes” is used by Australians and New Zealanders to refer to themselves, there is a rather “in your face” sense of pride that can be detected.

Now, an interesting question is what is the opposite of “antipodes?” It is not “podes.” I looked that up. 

So, is the opposite Great Britain? Well, obviously it was at one point. Now, the term can mean the exact opposite of wherever you are, so an argument can be made that the opposite of Antipodes is “here.” 

By the way, according to Wikipedia the major cities most nearly antipodal to Auckland are Seville or Malaga, in Spain. London doesn’t really have an antipode that is a major city. London’s antipode is a patch of the Pacific Ocean. Probably near Tahiti. Anchorage’s antipode is in the ocean, south of Africa, but much closer to Antarctica than to Capetown.

But wait, there’s more. Merriam-Webster says that two opposite places or things can be described as the antipodes of each other. In other words, both places or things are antipodes. You can’t have one without the other. So, if the opposite of an antipode is an antipode, then the word “antipodes” has no opposite? Because it means “opposite?” I’m starting to feel confused. I think I’ll go watch the water drain out of the bath tub and maybe that will restore my sense of balance.

This is what law school did to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of the perks of being a Most Traveled Passenger on Princess is an invitation to a fancy luncheon with the Captain and other officers. Only the top 40 MTP’s will be invited.  We got to sit at table number one, with the Captain, because we were in the top three. Number One Most Traveled was a nice enough woman from California. Number Two was a German man who could have filled in for one of the “Wild and Crazy Guys” from that old skit on Saturday Night Live. I have never seen so much jewelry on any man or woman. Fortunately, Captain Steve is a talker.

One of the things Captain Steve talked about was the poor weather forecast, although he didn’t seem overly concerned. (If this were fiction, you would call this foreshadowing. I don’t know whether that term applies to non-fiction.)

I do have a photo of Ken and me with the Captain, but it is not accessible at this time. However, I can share some pictures of the food - which delicious!

“The Voice of the Ocean” was an unabashed copy of the TV show, “The Voice.” The contestants were passengers and the coaches were cast members and solo entertainers traveling with the ship. We found out that one of our new shipboard friends was going to be a FINALIST in the Voice of the Ocean today, so we just had to go and root for him. I’m glad we went. It was a lot of fun. I would never have gone if I hadn’t known someone in the show. Our friend did well, but he did not win. The prize was a large trophy that probably doesn’t fit in most suitcases.

I thought it was interesting that two of the six finalists sang Frank Sinatra songs. I wonder if they are told what to sing. I am a little bored with all the Frank Sinatra songs on cruise ships.

Today’s fabric is Ocean, by Kaffe Fassett Collective.

Time Travelers - October 27

There will be no post for October 26, because it didn’t exist. If that was your birthday, too bad for you. 

A bad news bear?

We crossed a line, again. As you may have guessed, because I discussed it in the October 25 post, the line we crossed is the International Date Line. We went directly from Wednesday to Friday. Did not pass “Go.”

Dinner with Larry and Amanda

Losing a day does not require a big mental adjustment, but it’s more of a shock to your psyche than you might expect. Your subconscious keeps telling you it is Thursday, while the official onboard time deems it to be Friday. Is this how time travelers feel?

Shabbat shalom!

Today’s fabric is Steampunk Adventures - Steampunk Toss - Gray, by Dan Morris for Quilting Treasures.

Misadventures in Paradise - October 25

American Samoa is a Territory of the United States. Most residents of American Samoa are “U.S. Nationals.” They have U.S. passports, but they are not U.S. citizens and they don’t get to vote in U.S. national elections.

Samoa is an independent country, having gained independence from New Zealand in 1962. It was called Western Samoa until 1997, when it adopted the name Samoa.

Before 1899, the Samoan Islands existed as one political entity. Most of the residents of Samoa and American Samoa share their culture and their language.

In  2011 Samoa moved to the western side of the International Date Line to better align itself with New Zealand and Australia for purposes of communications, trade, and travel.

Map from Polynesian Cultural Center

Here is a close-up map of the Samoa Islands. (The International Date line bends in the opposite direction on this map. What’s that about?)

Map from Wikipedia

We docked in Pago Pago, on the island of Tutuila. It’s pronounced “pango pango.”

“Talofa” is similar to “Aloha” and means “welcome.” Singers and dancers welcomed us at the dock.

We were signed up for a tour with a local company called Best Tours. This tour was not arranged through Princess. Our tour involved a visit to a small island called Aunu’u.

Our guide met us and led us to a bus. The guide’s name was possibly Fa’a. I couldn’t hear him very well when he introduced himself and I forgot to ask him later.

Many of the buses in American Samoa are made out of wood. Our bus was no exception. We sat on uncomfortable wooden seats made out of plywood. 

Fa’a told us this was his first time leading this tour. I thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. He started reading out loud from a sheet of paper listing the important dates in the history of American Samoa. After no more than three minutes of driving we began to notice a fishy smell. We were approaching the Starkist Tuna cannery, one of the largest employers here. We also began to notice a loud noise - some type of siren. Our bus stopped behind a line of cars. We found out there was some kind of tsunami drill going on at the cannery and the road was blocked off for 35 minutes. By this time I was beginning to realize how uncomfortable it was to sit on a piece of wood.

We drove along a road that hugged the coast. The seaward side surprised  us with beautiful scenes of rocks and ocean, lush vegetation, and an occasional sandy beach. The inland side consisted of steep mountainsides and dense jungle. Every so often there would be a ravine tucked between two steep slopes, or a little point of land jutting out into the sea. if there was enough flat ground, there would be a cluster of houses there - maybe 10 or 20. The houses were usually modest, square one-story cinderblock structures. Sometimes the houses were tidy and well-kept, but many of the houses were dilapidated and looked abandoned. There was often some rusting junk in the yard. 

Many houses had graves of family members within a few steps of the entrance. Many of the headstones looked very expensive. I guess people here don’t ever sell their houses.

I noticed that most of the vehicles I saw were fairly new, large American pickup trucks. I saw shiny new trucks on the road, in front of prim little houses, and in front of falling-down houses. Pickup trucks seemed to outnumber cars about 4 to 1. Most of the cars were 4WD.

Every cluster of houses had a church and a fale. The church was always the nicest building in the neighborhood. It was hard to believe that such small settlements could each support a church. The fale was a sort of community hall. It was always open on the sides. Some were nice, some were run down. 

A typical fale in Pago Pago

Occasionally a settlement would have a school or a small store.

I did not notice any tourism infrastructure, such as hotels and restaurants. The famous Tisa’s Barefoot Bar, which we passed on the way to Aunu’u, appeared to be closed. We didn’t see any botanical gardens or gift shops or statues or scenic lookouts.

I did notice a LOT of trash on the ground, especially when we got to Aunu’u. More on that later. But for the trash and junk cars, Tutuila was a gorgeous, unspoiled island.

I also noticed that everyone was very warm and friendly, and many people waved at our bus. It could be they were waving at our driver. This seems like a place where everybody knows everybody else. But it did seem to me as though they were actually waving at us.

When we arrived at the place where we would board our ferry to Aunu’u, we were in for a shock. The “ferry” was a miserable little  piece of scrap metal and scrap wood. Actually, there were two ferries, as our group of 14 was too large for one ferry.

The water was very rough and it was challenging to board the ferry because there wasn’t a proper dock. The boat pitched up and down as we stood on a stone wall and tried to leap on board in synch with the boat. There were little wooden benches to sit on. Some of the benches were not actually attached to the boat. I clung to a pole to keep from falling off the boat every time we hit a wave.

We were inside a small breakwater and the operator of the boat had to wait for a certain point in the wave action to gun the motor and try to get out into the unprotected water before the next wave came along. Once out into the ocean we rode up and down the troughs between the waves, making slow and frightening progress to Aunu’u, where another breakwater was entered and the risky boarding process was repeated in reverse. At least we had life jackets, but I would have liked a whitewater rafting helmet, as well.

After jumping from the bobbing boat onto the shore, we fell to our knees and thanked God for getting us there safely. Well, that didn’t actually happen, but I’m sure somebody thought about it.

We walked a short way to a place that seemed to be a small town square. It was deserted and the houses there looked like they had been hit by a bomb. There were piles of rubble everywhere. Upon closer inspection I could see that a lot of the “rubble” was broken coral, so maybe that was the natural surface material here. 

We found out that the island had endured a major tsunami in 2022. perhaps the damaged buildings resulted from the tsunami. Perhaps all of the trash on the ground was also a testament to the force of the tsunami. But I wondered why nothing at all appeared to have been done to clean up afterward.

We walked to another town square where a man was sitting on a plastic chair in front of a small building. It wasn’t a house; it may have been a storage shed or a chicken coop. The man was, presumably the village chief. I don’t know if he told us his name. A young man translated as the chief gave us a traditional welcome in Samoan. Chairs were brought out for us and the chief explained to us the process of cooking in a traditional underground oven.

We were shown how baskets and trays could be woven out of palm fronds and we saw a breadfruit tree and learned about how breadfruit was used.

The chief gets ready to weave something with a palm frond

A breadfruit

We were shown a well that served 4 or 5 houses in the square. It was an uncovered cistern that was apparently fed by an underground spring. Several hoses came out of the well and supplied the nearby houses by means of a sump pump. The water didn’t look that good and a young woman who was showing us around said there were small fish in the water.

Can you guess what happened next? Ken and I both decided we did not want to eat the lunch that the nice women in the village were making for us.

Before lunch Fa’a took us down a pleasant path to show us the island’s taro fields. Apparently this is the only place in American Samoa where taro can be grown.

Taro field

It seemed like Paradise. Papayas, bananas, breadfruit, and coconuts seemed to be plentiful. The taro seemed to grow without any effort. Chickens wandered around, happily laying eggs. Fish would swim right into the nets of the fishermen. One of the young Samoan women who showed us around was asked if Samoans had vegetable gardens. She said they were too lazy to grow vegetables. Checks from the U.S. Government flowed freely, too, we were told.

Papayas

Coconuts

We then walked a short distance farther and came to a beach where there were robust waves and rusty metal.

Then we walked back to the village, past the school. The children were thrilled to see us. They posed for photos and waved and told some of the ladies in our group “We love you.”

One of the nicest houses in the village

The elementary school

While on a path through the jungle, when we had fallen behind a bit, we heard a sudden great thrashing overhead and then a big crash. We realized that a coconut had fallen from a tree a few yards a away. It was large and hefty. It could have killed someone.

The ground was covered with trash almost everywhere on this island.

Trash

I never learned if this was a result of the tsunami, or if this is just how things are. Paul Theroux visited American Samoa decades earlier, and it was his impression that the trash was a part of the culture here. In the old days, all trash was compostable, and throwing it on the ground was not a problem.

This was not an issue on Aunu’u alone. I saw many junkyards and derelict buildings on Tutuila. The islanders clearly knew how to bring new cars to the island, but they hadn’t developed a system for disposing of them. This is not surprising, considering the cost of removing junk cars from Samoa. There is no space for a landfill here.

Back near the well, we gathered on the porch of a house for lunch, prepared by some of the village “aunties.” It smelled delicious, but Ken did not eat anything. I only ate an orange. We did, however, try the delicious coconuts. The liquid inside had a sweet, fresh taste.

The lunch consisted of grilled breadfruit, grilled plantains, taro, grilled chicken, a fish stew, some greens, fresh fruit.

Loving that fabric!

Everyone else in our group loaded up their plates and ate heartily. I never saw anyone else from that tour for the rest of that cruise. That is not unusual on a ship of 3,000 - but I couldn’t help wondering whether they were ok after that lunch.

While we ate (or didn’t eat), a couple of teenage boys fanned us to keep flies away. This is their job when the elders eat, we were told.

We never saw a bathroom this whole trip - though, to be fair, we never asked for one. I think there may have been one in the house where our lunch was cooked.

Of course we had to return on the same “ferries.” This time, Ken and I ended up on the other boat. We were the last to board - although we had not been the last in line - and I had to sit on a wooden box that was not attached to the boat because the fat Americans from the waka nui (cruise ship) had to man-spread all over the benches - benches which were attached to the boat and were near poles you could hold onto - and they each took up one and a half seats without apparently realizing it. Ken squeezed in uncomfortably between two fat, sweaty men, and we both thought the other two gentlemen were going to move over and make room for me, but it soon became clear that chivalry was dead, and I was damned if I was going to ask them to make room for me. I did a pretty good imitation of a martyr, telling Ken he should stay in his seat, and I would be just fine sitting on that box over there where I could watch the engine, and breathe some fumes, but the point was lost on most of our fellow tourists.

Such a lovely box

It was while I was watching the engine that I realized that it was not possible for the driver to see where we were going. The young Samoan man standing on the front of the boat must have been signaling to him somehow.

This has gone on far too long, so I am going to just stop here. We are alive. We survived both ferry trips, and didn’t even get wet. We dodged food poisoning and water-borne illnesses, and we were not bonked by coconuts. Hallelujah! 

Today’s fabric is Monstera Leaves - Earth, by Michael Miller Fabrics.

Why Chocolate Is Better than Champagne - October 24

Here are our cappuccinos this morning - a cute koala bear and a strange animal (no one knew what to call it).

At Knitters and Knatters, Susan showed off a wonderful shawl she crocheted. I don’t think I would ever wear this style of shawl, but I am intrigued by the pattern.

We had lunch with Bill and Fortunée, one of the Canadian couples we met at the first Shabbat service. They are so interesting - and nice. We don’t seem to intersect with them on the ship very much. They came with a group of friends, and they do things together and eat together. Ken and I spend a lot of time in our cabin because it is so nice and because we don’t want to get Covid. At least two members of this Canadian group have already come down with Covid on this cruise.

Bill and Fortunée told us that a member of their group, Evan, was a finalist in the The Voice of the Ocean, and would be singing on Saturday afternoon. Because we know Evan (a little), we will go on Saturday and cheer for him.

After lunch, I sent an email to the Entertainment Director onboard about the comedian’s show last night. He responded immediately. 

Am I satisfied? It’s hard to say. I believe the Entertainment Director understood my concerns. I believe he spoke to the comedian about it. I believe the comedian flouted Princess’s policies. I think this is a problem that requires constant vigilance from passengers, staff, and management, and it will probably keep happening. I don’t know if I made a difference. Probably not. Yet, I am satisfied with myself for taking action. As Rabbi Hillel famously said: 

If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?

I thought about whether to put my email to the Entertainment Director into this blog. I decided not to include it because my blog is about travel, not politics.

We were invited to the Captain’s Circle Cocktail Party in the evening. This is a party for passengers who have completed 5 or more Princess cruises. The Captain comes to the party and makes a short speech. The Future Cruise Consultant usually talks about some new itineraries that have just become available. The whole thing lasts no more than 45 minutes. Toward the end, the Loyalty & Events Co-ordinator announces the number of passengers at each level, and then the top three “Most Traveled Passengers” are given a gift such as a bottle of champagne. 🍾

There are 3,023 passengers on board now. The capacity of the ship, at 2 per cabin, is about 3,600 - so there is a little elbow room! 😀 There are over 800 passengers at the “Platinum” level - 5 or more cruises with Princess. There are slightly over 600 passengers at the “Elite” level - 15 or more Princess cruises. This particular cruise has attracted a significant number of very loyal repeat passengers.

We were lucky to be the third Most Traveled, so we go to go up and have our photo taken with the Captain. We chose a box of chocolates instead of the champagne. When you open champagne, you have to drink it all at once. When you open chocolate, sometimes you eat it all at once, but you don’t have to. It will be just as good the next day.

Here we are with Captain Steve, and with Maja, the Future Cruise, Loyalty, and Events co-ordinator.

The entertainment this evening is a vocalist named Patrick McMahon. We found out he is an Aussie who sings (American) country western. We decided not to go. It’s not worth going to the theatre and being coughed on for an hour, unless it is a show we are really interested in. We listened to some of the live music that was being played in various lounges around the ship. 

Today’s fabric is Tonga Beach - Pool, by Timeless Treasures.

Lenticular Soup - October 23

Less happened today than yesterday. Eventually, we will get to a day where nothing happened at all. Just sayin’.

I don’t mind. This is very relaxing. There are lots of things to do. I just don’t feel like doing something all the time. At home I seem to be rushing from one appointment or chore or errand to another, with little time in between to process and plan.

Besides, Covid and other nasties are starting to show up. We have been on board for two weeks and a day. It usually takes about two weeks for a virus to incubate and spread around a ship. There are 3,023 passengers onboard, and about 1,500 crew members. People gotta breathe. Viruses happen.

I don’t know very many people on this ship, but I already know at least 5 souls who have been diagnosed with Covid and have been asked to isolate. We haven’t actually met the couple next door, but they appear to have Covid, too. The telltale signs include room service deliveries by waiters wearing masks and PPP. There seem to be a lot of other passengers who are obviously sick and who are obviously not isolating themselves (or even masking). One of our wellness strategies is to spend more time in our cabin and less time in crowded spaces. I really don’t like being in the Princess Theater when it is full. We can watch recordings of the lectures in our cabin.

I went to a book club meeting today. We had a very good discussion about the author and what he thought about our next port. I am starting to like the idea of discussing the same book over several meetings. It probably wouldn’t work for every book, but it’s a good way to deal with Paul Theroux’s lengthy book.

As I said before, it is very difficult to take decent photos of the stairwell art. The lighting is bad and the glare is worse. Because the art is always on a landing, it isn’t possible to stand in a spot that will allow for a good shot. I do apologize for how unsatisfactory these photos are. It is really quite enjoyable to walk up and down the stairs on board and see the art in person.

This is a continuation of our October 19 tour of the art in the aft starboard stairwell. 

Untitled, by Lauri Sing
Digital prints on paper

This is one of a series of unlabelled items. Each piece was a slice of a rock or geode approximately 1/4 inch thick and highly polished. 

Shoreline, by Heather McAlpine
Limited edition on paper

Heather McAlpine works from a studio in Cornwall, UK.

London, Marian Westall
Original oil on canvas

Marian Westall owns Hot Pepper Studio in LA. The studio specializes in custom art.

Shutters Movements in Verona, Italy
Lenticular printing

I have heard of “lenticular clouds” but not “lenticular printing.” Wikipedia has this to say about “lenticular printing”:

Lenticular printing is a technology in which lenticular lenses are used to produce printed images with an illusion of depth, or the ability to change or move as they are viewed from different angles. 

And that completes the aft starboard stairwell. I need to go back and take another look at that lenticular picture to see if I can observe any movement. 

After dinner we went to a show by a comedian named Matt Bergman. I was very disappointed that he chose to use unflattering racial and ethnic stereotypes in his show. And his show wasn’t particularly funny.

Today’s fabric is Bali Elements Dots Batik - Navy, by Benartex.