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We Sail the South Pacific on HAL’s Newest Ship – the Queen Mary


SailorJack
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This is our second trip on HAL and those of you who may have read my review of our cruise on the Noordam can readily understand my confusion over HAL’s maritime nomenclature. This time SailorJill has suggested that we take a cruise to the South Pacific and Australia on a ship called the Oosterdam. However, contrary to what I initially suspected, “dam” is not a swear word , but is actually, I am told, the Dutch word for “bunny.” Now, as you can well imagine, it takes a person secure in his own masculinity to actually book a cruise on a ship called the Oosterbunny, but it is far, far preferable than sailing on the Oosterdijk! Lest you think I may be making this up, let me quote from Wikipedia.org, “the first vessel with the "Ooster" prefix launched … as the 8,251-ton, one-prop Oosterdijk. She sailed between Rotterdam and Savannah, Georgia for Holland America… ” Living in Georgia as I do, I think one can understand why the Savannah papers never reported on the comings and goings of this particular ship!

 

Still, as SailorJill had her heart set on this cruise I was preparing to set aside my apprehensions and book the cruise – until I learned that “Oost” was actually Dutch for “East.” No way was I going to sail on a ship called the “Easterbunny!” I mean, how does anybody come back from a cruise and, with any shred of dignity, tell someone “yes, we had a good time on the Easterbunny! We even did a Hop On-Hop Off tour in one of the ports.” This nearly killed the deal.

 

But SailorJill, knowing just what buttons to push, said “But Jack, you have always wanted to visit Tahiti.” She was right of course. Tahiti has been on my bucket list for years and this, apparently, was a chance to fill that particular bucket. And I would love to see Australia again. So with severe reservations, I conceded the point and we booked our cruise to Tahiti and Australia.

 

Pre-Cruise

 

For this cruise, our ship departs from Seattle and we have arrived in the Emerald City in the middle of the city's annual Rain Fest, which runs from January 1 to December 31, except for a brief hiatus on February 9 - when Seattle celebrates its annual Sno-Fest - which runs from about 2:00 to 2:45 PM. As it has been quite some time since we have visited here, we came in a few days early in order to see the sights and visit with some friends who have just moved to a community outside of Tacoma known as Fox Island. However, after a full day here I am disheartened to report a grievous misnomer as I failed to see a single fox – either of the miniskirt and stiletto heel clad type or of the four footed variety. As a result I have significantly lowered my expectations for Babe’s Landing – which is one of the stops on our second day here.

 

We did, however, visit the famed Pike’s Fish Market – home of the renowned flying fish. Well, actually, the fish don’t really fly – they (and I swear I am not making this up) are actually TOSSED across the market from one fish monger to the next. Nobody knows for sure the origin of this practice, but some speculate that it is a tradition handed down from the ancient Toltecs – whose national pastime probably translated as something like “Pass the Bass.” Others argue that it is simply the emergence of suppressed rebellion from being told as youngsters not to play with one’s food. Whatever the origin, it is quite a spectacle to see 20 pound fish flying across the aisle to the accompaniment of various maritime type shouts such as “Here, catch my Cod piece”, “Holy Mackerel”, “Here comes the Sole food”, and “Catch the Grouper trooper. Or, in the case of some cellophane wrapped crawdads - "Bag of Bugs!"

 

For dinner on our last night in Seattle we decided to splurge and have dinner in the rotating restaurant atop the Space Needle. As luck would have it, however, we arrived without a reservation and were informed that without a reservation there was no way they could fit us in. Apparently there was no space in the Space Needle, so we returned to Pike’s Fish Market and enjoyed a delicious Sole Food dinner.

 

Day 1 - Seattle, Washington

 

We boarded the ship at 1:30 PM, ate lunch and set about the arduous task of unpacking. However, the TV in our cabin was already turned on and someone was demonstrating how to use the life vest. As I felt this was very important, I opened up a beer to watch and told SailorJill I would let her unpack my stuff. The demonstrator showed how to pull the vest over one's head, grasp the bottom set of tempered Lock-Tite fasteners and click them together - and repeat the process with the upper set of tempered Lock-Tite fasteners. At that point we were to grasp the Kevlar reinforced Mylar straps and pull them until they fit snuggly about one's body. The process seemed very efficient and I mentally repeated it until I was confident that I could quickly perform the maneuver in a crisis.

 

Then, at 5:15 PM we went down to deck three for a lifeboat drill - an extremely important function as we will be sailing nearly 8,000 miles over treacherous and uncharted seas (well, at least uncharted to us.) At the start of the lifeboat drill the Cruise Director announced over the loudspeaker that it was important to wash our hands. To be honest, up to this point I had not realized the importance of washing one's hands before boarding a life boat. But, it turns out, however, that norovirus is spread not through the air, but by contact and therefore we should wash our hands and avoid touching any of the other 149 people in the lifeboat. How we were to wash our hands on the way to our lifeboat station was not explained.

 

He then announced that the Texas Hold-em tournament would commence at 10:30 this evening and last until 12:30. A number of people wondered what Texas Hold-em had to do with getting into a lifeboat, but as a seasoned international traveler I was easily able to read between the lines. Texas Hold-em is an important revenue stream for the ship and by telling us it would not end until 12:30 the CD was subtly letting us know that if (God forbid) anything should happen to the ship, it wouldn't happen till after 12:30.

 

Finally, the Captain came on the air and had the crew demonstrate how to put on a life vest. It was at this point that I became extremely concerned. The vests for our lifeboat station did not have tempered Lock-Tite fasteners or Kevlar reinforced Mylar straps like the TV promised, but just two little frayed cotton straps that we were told to wrap around us a few times and then tie them off with a knot! Apparently our station had last year's model! Nervously, I glanced up at our lifeboat and was relieved to see that it had the same kind of propeller as the other boats, but was somewhat disconcerted to note that it also had a set of oars strapped to the side.

 

After the demonstration, the Captain came back on the air and announced that in the interest of safety, two additional crew members were being assigned to each boat and that they would be bringing the tools of their trade with them. For example; the navigators from the bridge would bring their charts and navigational equipment to ensure that we reached a safe haven. The ship's mechanics would bring their tools and spare parts in the event that a boat had mechanical problems. Likewise, the doctor and nurses would bring medicines, resuscitators, and other medical equipment with them in the event of an emergency.

 

It was at this point that I realized that I need not worry about our second-hand life vests - the two crewmen assigned to our boat were bar tenders!

 

Day 2 – Vancouver, British Columbia

 

After a long night of hard sailing we have finally reached our first port - Vancouver - which lies 141 miles (642.6 1/2 kilometers) north of Seattle. We will be glad to finally get back on land and stretch our legs. Actually, we are looking forward to this port as Vancouver is my home town and it has been several years since I was last here. Living as I do in the South, I rarely speak of my home town because I am loathe to say the actual words -“British Columbia.” There is something about that name that leads people to picture some postage stamp size country somewhere in the middle of a South American jungle where a lonely, tattered, and faded Union Jack flutters limply from a dead banana tree. Not only that, but during dinner on cruises I have found that once I mention “British Columbia” I am often complemented on my mastery of the fork and knife and asked if I will be wearing my tribal costume on formal night.

 

But I digress.

 

For the uninitiated (or for those who have not been on an Alaskan cruise) British Columbia is the first Canadian province on the left. Vancouver is the province’s largest city and it has a long and distinguished history. In what has to be one of the most amazing coincidences in the annals of exploration, Vancouver was actually discovered in 1792 by a British navigator by the name of... George Vancouver! Now often has some place been discovered by someone with the same name!

 

Since this most fortuitous discovery, Vancouver has grown to be the third most populated metropolitan city in Canada and is certainly one of the most ethnically diverse - as English is not the first language for 52% of the city’s inhabitants. It is also the first city in the world to have been ranked in the top ten “most livable cities” survey for five consecutive years (#3 for 2012). On the other hand, Vancouver averages nearly 170 days of some form of precipitation a year which is why our official flower is mold.

 

For our day in Vancouver, SailorJill wants to visit the Capilano Suspension Bridge – which, of course, makes absolutely no sense to me. Back home, should she happen to step out onto our back deck and imagine the slightest possible movement she wants to call the Army Corps of Engineers and every handyman on Angie’s List to eliminate even the slightest perceived movement. But here, perched nearly 300 feet over a roaring river with Class III rapids, she wants to venture out onto a suspension bridge that swings more wildly than the balance in my 401(k) account – and pay $30 each to do it!

 

Bowing to the inevitable, however, I fork over the $60 dollars and we make our way down to the bridge. As I stare at the extremely narrow foot bridge – which stretches nearly 500 feet to the other side of the gorge – the guard at the entrance warns us that it is against the rules to run on the bridge. Right! Like I am going to actually run on this architectural version of the thong! I am more concerned that there may be a rule against crawling. I am also informed that there is no throwing things off the bridge. Who does she think I am – Billie Joe McAllister? After the lecture on the rules I looked around for the life preservers in the event that something should happen and I fall into the river. “Jack, you won’t need a life preserver as there is no chance of you drowning in the river – the fall will kill you.” OK, that explains the lack of life preservers and a muster drill.

 

Now that the moment was at hand, I have to admit I had some growing apprehension about actually stepping out onto the bridge, but was motivated by the fact that I had already shelled out $60 and by SailorJill’s subtle exhortation – “Jack, do you think that refreshment stand on the other side sells beer?” Taking my first tentative step onto the bridge I find that it is not as bad as I had first thought. Sure, there was some movement, but nothing we couldn’t handle. We had actually made it about half way across when a gaggle of giggling teenagers rushed by us causing the bridge to begin swinging more widely than the pendulum on a grandfather clock. I desperately tried to maintain my balance but found myself swaying and bouncing about more than a one-legged Go-Go dancer. Didn’t those kids know that it was AGAINST THE RULES TO RUN on the bridge! They needed to be punished. And I knew exactly what I had to do to exact the proper punishment. ! (It is amazing how lucid one’s thoughts can be in moments of great stress.) Once home I will buy the company that makes Clearasil and stop production!

 

As I clung to the guide rope and regained my balance I had to admit the view was pretty spectacular. The roaring river below, the sheer granite cliffs, and the thick forest that bordered the river made for a magnificent vista. After taking the requisite photos, we continued on and reached the far side of the bridge without further incident - only to be confronted by something called the Treetops Adventure. Some enthusiast (Canadian for “Idiot”) had built a rope bridge amongst the forest canopy by tying ropes to Douglas Firs. And these weren’t faux firs, but huge ancient trees that rose hundreds of feet into the air. Of course SailorJill had to try out this excursion - so there we were - walking on some ludicrously old wooden planks suspended 100 feet over the forest floor. I suppose it wouldn’t ordinarily be so bad, but as my left hand was engaged in maintaining a firm grip on my Labatts Blue I only had one hand to hold onto the swaying guide rope. I don’t know if you have ever tried to drink a beer while swinging back and forth on a rope bridge, but about half of it sloshes out of the can before you can drink it. If I hadn’t had another one in my pocket I could have died of thirst up there. As it was, we successfully completed the Treetops Adventure and, from what I remember of the walk, it was pretty impressive - especially the part where you get back on the ground.

 

Later, safely back on the ground after experiencing what Jill referred to as “the forest primeval” we were faced with the prospect of once again having to cross the suspension bridge. I am happy to report, however, that we made the crossing without incident and preceded to town in order to engage in that most hallowed of cruise activities - shopping.

 

Day 2 – At Sea

 

Today we had some rough seas but the day was actually a very languid one and we spent the morning on deck around the pool enjoying the fresh air. As our Meet and Greet was scheduled for 11:00 we returned to our cabin to shower and change. SailorJill put on a white nurse’s micro miniskirt, a matching halter top with a little red cross on it, thigh high white stockings, 5” white stiletto heels, and a cute little white cap on top of her jet black hair. Wait! That is actually my new screen saver – sorry. She is actually wearing shorts, sandals, and a T-shirt that reads, “That Guy the Village is Missing? I Married Him” – a gift from her mother on the occasion of our 11th wedding anniversary.

 

At our meet and greet we met a number of very interesting cruisers – including people with whom we would be sharing some excursions. We also met a couple from Alabama. The gentleman turned out to be a nice young man who was actually wearing shoes and who had a diamond stud earring in his left ear. He was on the cruise with his fiancé (who was deep in conversation with SailorJill) and in the course of our conversation it became apparent that he was having some commitment issues as he expressed some doubts about whether or not he was ready for marriage. “Of course you are ready for marriage,” I assured him, “you are more prepared than most men” - nodding at his pierced ear and earring – “you have already experienced pain and purchased jewelry!”

 

Day 8 - Hilo, Hawaii

 

What a gorgeous day! This is our first port after leaving Vancouver and SailorJill has signed us up for a tour to explore this exciting island. One of our first stops was to visit the Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park. As excited as I was to finally see a Hawaiian volcano, I was extremely disconcerted when we were handed a very important document than read, "VISITOR ALERT: High amounts of dangerous poisonous sulfur dioxide gas may be present in areas of the park."

 

As we drove through the park we could see tremendous rents in the earth where the poisonous steam was racing upwards from vents that extended deep down into the beds of molten lava. Stopping near one of these steam vents we had an opportunity to experience the powerful updrafts created by the super-heated steam. We could detect the strong odor of the sulfur dioxide from 200 feet away, and as far as I was concerned, that was close enough. That's when SailorJill suggested that I should go over by the vent and pose for a picture; but I knew she was kidding because I had not purchased trip insurance for this cruise. I could not say the same, however, for the couple next to us:

 

Sarah: "Phil, go pose for a picture by the steam vent."

Phil: "Sarah, that gas is poisonous."

Sarah: "So hold your breath."

Phil (now standing near the steam vent): "What's taking so long?"

Sarah: "I ran out of film."

Phil: "It's a digital camera!"

Sarah: "Oh, I meant I ran out of memory. I'm putting in another memory card."

Phil (now with perspiration streaming down his face): "Well hurry up, I'm roasting over here and the gas is really starting to get to me."

Sarah: "Come on Phil, Man Up! Think how disappointed the kids will be if Dad comes home without a picture of him standing by a steam vent!"

Phil: "I'd like to think they would be more disappointed if Dad didn't come home."

Sarah: "OK, I'm ready. Now stick your head over the edge of the vent and look down like are trying to see how deep it is."

 

It was at this point that SailorJill and I quickly moved on as we did not want to have to return to Hawaii to testify as to what we had seen.

 

The highlight of the tour, however, was our visit to Akaka Falls. Readers familiar with my writings know that I eschew low brow humor and that my professional pride and integrity will not permit me to further comment on the word, "Akaka." So moving on....

 

The walk down to the falls may be one of the most spectacular we have ever taken. The narrow path wended its way through a thick tropical forest composed of giant ferns, throngs of exotic broad leafed flowering trees, thickets of strangely colored bamboo, and hanging vines the likes of which we had never seen before. Not only was the flora breathtaking, but from deep within the forest came a veritable cacophony of cries from unseen birds and beasts. No wonder scenes from Jurassic Park were filmed here! As we passed by shaded streams flowing over moss covered rocks one could almost imagine an enraged Tyrannosaurus Rex, or its close cousin, (based on fossils recently discovered in eastern Canada) the Torontosaurus Rex crashing through the jungle to gobble us up piecemeal - leaving behind only bits of our broken bones buried in a mound of steaming Akaka!

 

Day 9 - Honolulu, Hawaii

 

After a strenuous morning of sightseeing it was finally time for lunch and after 5 days at sea I had a craving for a nice juicy Cheeseburger (with extra cheese, of course). Unfortunately, SailorJill had a different craving. “Jack, we are in Hawaii and I think we should have something Hawaiian.” “Fine, I’ll have them put a pineapple ring on the cheeseburger.” Alas, it was not to be. So we visited a restaurant that advertised authentic Hawaiian cuisine. Seated at a nice window table and with drinks on the way, SailorJill put down the menu, called the waiter over, and requested two orders of something called “Lau Lau” - which turned out to be some kind of steamed fish and pork wrapped in taro leaves. I had always thought that taro was a kind of fortune telling card, but apparently it can also serve as a food. We were also served a bowl of something called ‘poi” which tastes a lot like sour milk that has gone bad. Despite what you may think after tasting it, “poi” is not made from fermented poison berries, but comes from the fermentation of the same plant that gave us the aforementioned leaves and fortune telling cards.

 

As we were about to eat, I glanced about the table and mentioned to Jill that someone had forgotten to provide us with the necessary cutlery. Apparently overhearing our conversation, a gentleman at the table next to ours leaned over and with a wide grin whispered, “They didn’t forget the silverware; tradition calls for you to use your fingers – just like you do at home.” Well maybe at his home, but certainly not at mine! I called the waiter over and asked him to bring me a spoon. His response, besides a very pleasant smile, was that this restaurant did not have any spoons. My suggestion that he hurry over to the restaurant across the street and get me a spoon only elicited another pleasant smile. Apparently tradition wins out over propriety.

 

Well, to make a long story short, you eat poi by dipping your finger into it, scooping some up, sticking your finger into your mouth and then sucking off the poi. (This may be one of the reasons you never see poi served at High Tea.) Anyway, I was extremely apprehensive about this maneuver, but when in Rome...

 

Pulling my finger out of the poi, I was pleasantly surprised to see that it still looked much like the other four fingers on my hand except now it had a healthy pink glow about it – which I attributed to the fact that the lactobacillus in the poi had eaten away the outer layer of my epidermis. Now this was not an altogether bad thing and I began to speculate as to whether or not it would have the same effect on my chapped and darkened elbows. Apparently SailorJill sensed where I was going with this and pulled the bowl out of my reach. I wonder if the Spa knows about this stuff! By the way, the Lau Lau was really pretty good and would make an excellent meal if you could put some cheese on it!

 

Day 9 - At Sea

 

Today we are having another lazy day at sea, so while SailorJill is off to the Spa to look at their offerings, I am taking a few extra spins around the walking deck wearing my new “Oosterdam” hat that SailorJill picked up for me in the Gallery.

 

“Nice hat.” I turned to the fellow who had fallen into step with me:

 

SailorJack: “Thanks, my wife just bought it for me, but, frankly, I feel a little silly wearing a hat that says “Easterbunny.”

Fellow Passenger (quizzically): “Excuse me?”

SailorJack: “I was told that ‘dam’ is Dutch for ‘bunny’.”

Fellow Passenger: “I don’t think that’s right. ‘Dam’ isn’t Dutch for ‘bunny’ - it’s Dutch for ‘bonnet’.”

 

Oh great! Now I’m actually parading around deck wearing an EasterBonnet! The way things are going I wouldn't be surprised if we made an unscheduled stop at Ooster Island!

 

One of the problems of being at sea for extended periods of time is that one is cut off from news about current events. However, HAL has addressed this problem by publishing a newsletter each day in several languages - such as English, German, Chinese, and Australian. Not only that, but they will deliver the newsletter each day to your stateroom - just like your paper at home.

 

For this service, I am deeply indebted to HAL as I otherwise would have missed perhaps one of the most important technological articles to be published during my lifetime. The article, entitled (and I swear I am not making this up) "Cows Send Texts to Alert They're in Heat." explains that when a cow goes into heat its body temperature rises. By implanting a sensor (attached to a SIM card) into the cow, the increase in body temperature is detected and a message is sent out that basically says. "Bring me a big, bad Bull...NOW!" In essence we have introduced "sexting" to the animal kingdom.

 

As interesting as this is, the potential of this new technology to better the lives of all mankind is simply staggering. For example; assume that I am comfortably seated in my favorite recliner chair watching Monday Night Football on my 55" flat screen TV when the sensor implanted in me detects not an increase in body temperature, but a decrease in blood alcohol level. It immediately sends a message to SailorJill that says "Jack needs another beer." The sensor could also detect a drop in my sodium level and amend the message to say "and bring more potato chips and beer nuts." Clearly, the advent of this technology could be the greatest improvement in TV watching since the invention of the remote control!

 

Day 14 – Apia, Samoa

 

We have arrived in Samoa, an island nation which lies half way between Hawaii and New Zealand and which became independent from New Zealand in 1962 - and is one of the most beautiful tropical islands we have ever visited.

 

That said, I know what a lot of you are wondering – does Samoa have a national beer? The answer is YES! Vailima may be some of the best beer in the South Pacific. The beer is so good that local legend has it that it is this beer that may have given rise to the country’s name. It is said that when sailors, after months at sea, landed on the island they would head for the local tavern for some, ah, convivial socializing. Then, after consuming several large flagons of the ice cold, amber hued, full-bodied Vailima beer they would hop up on the table and drunkenly exclaim, “Blimey, thass gud stuff – barkeep bring me samoa!”

 

Not only, according to legend, may this have accounted for the islands name, but could the action also have been the ancient precursor of the modern practice of table hopping during social events? I’m just saying.

 

One of the cool things to do in Apia is to slide down the waterfall that is located just outside Apia. One climbs to the top of the falls, sits down on the semi-smooth rock and then lets the water push one down the sloping waterway for approximately 2 miles (.011 ½ Kilometers). I forget the name our travel book gave to the falls, but the Samoans call it “O lea maua e i latou o loo tautua i le matata” – which, based on personal experience, probably translates into something like “place where ship people shred their bathing suit bottoms.” At the bottom of the falls there is a little “o tau tau fale” (modesty station) where you can buy something to cover what is left of your swim trunks. While the ride down the falls was exhilarating, my matata was somewhat sore afterwards. Should future travelers wish to visit the waterfall slide I suggest first enjoying several large bottles of Vailima beer to enhance the experience.

 

Another “must” in Apia is to visit the home of the late Robert Louis Stevenson (Treasure Island, Kidnapped), which has been converted into a very nice museum. His home is on a hill located just outside Apia and is an easy taxi ride from downtown. After touring the museum, visitors are encouraged to visit his gravesite which is situated at the top of the hill – a monumental trek that lasts longer than our daughter's explanation on how she came to miss her midnight curfew. Our daughter Alexis (we named her that because if we hadn't had her we could be driving one) has inherited her mother's ability to make everything look like it is my fault. Her explanation on the curfew violation involved pointing out that she was a very responsible and mature teenager and that if I, an overly protective male parental unit, had requested a more reasonable curfew hour - say, 1:00 AM then she would not have missed the curfew. I explained to her that the curfew was not a request , but...wait a minute, I am getting off message here - sorry.

 

Anyway, upon reaching the top of the hill one can visit the gravesite and also look down upon the city of Apia and its 34,000 residents – which is about equal to the number of stairs one had to climb to get up here. Based upon personal experience I would suggest that those wishing to actually walk up the hill might consider first enjoying several large bottles of Vailima beer to enhance the experience.

 

After seeing the sights we descended the hill, found our taxi and went souvenir shopping in Apia - where we found a little store that featured Samoan artwork.

 

Salesperson: “Welcome to our store, what ship are you on?”

SailorJack: “The Oosterdam.”

Salesperson: “The Rooster n' Ram? You are sailing on a British Pub?

SailorJack: “No, (although I have to admit the concept sounded appealing) it’s the “Oooosterdam”.”

Salesperson: "The Gooosenmaam?"

SailorJack: No, but you are getting closer."

Salesperson: “I’m sorry; this name is very confusing -could you say the name of the ship just one more time?”

SailorJack: “The Queen Mary.”

Vendor: “Oh, nice ship.”

SailorJack: “Thanks

 

Day 15 - At Sea

 

This morning the Captain made a startling announcement: We were lost! Just kidding - it was actually worse. We had no internet! Not only the internet, but all forms of communication had been lost - telephone, cell phone, satellite phone, texting, radio, and television. We were in a very isolated part of the earth where there was no satellite communications of any kind. We were completely cut off from the outside world. To compound the problem, the ship's satellite equipment had mysteriously crashed. In an effort to reassure us, the Captain said he had a "special" way of communicating with Seattle and that they were working on a solution.

 

Up until that moment the day had been going well - with calm seas and no wind. Now we were struck by the realization that we were actually in a dead area where there was little noticeable movement, minimal activity, and absolutely no communication. Married people often refer to this area as " the bedroom", but at least in the bedroom there is television!

 

For members of the younger generation it was the first time in their lives that they had been so cut off. Many of them went into painful withdrawal - with thumbs sporadically twitching as they vainly sought to text and eyes glazed over as their tablets refused to respond.

 

This afternoon the Captain came back on and said that they had failed to rectify the situation and that the loss of communications could last for days. I don't know what happened to his "special" means of communication - perhaps the string broke - but one couldn't help but wonder if we were doomed to become the lost Flying Dutchmandam - occasionally glimpsed by other ships, but never heard from again.

 

Day 17 – Nuku’alofa, Tonga

 

As we approached land, I hurried up to the top deck to get a first look at the island of my dreams – Tahiti. As we neared shore, I turned to SailorJill and commented, “This doesn’t look like the pictures of Tahiti in the guide book.” Whereupon a gentleman standing next to us turned to me and said, “This is Tonga. We aren’t going to Tahiti on this cruise.” I slowly turned to SailorJill only to hear her reply, “Jack, if you recall, I never actually said this particular cruise was going to Tahiti, I just mentioned that you always wanted to visit it.”

 

She was right of course. But she had certainly implied that we were going to Tahiti. SailorJill is very good at implying. In fact if I had to list some of her top skills “implying” would be right up there near the top! As I stood there trying to comprehend what I had just learned I wondered if I could make the argument that the “I do” I said at the altar so many years ago could actually be considered as implying “I’ll think about it?” Probably not. Oh well. It’s not Tahiti, but it looks like a neat little island.

 

Once ashore SailorJill asked if there was anything in particular we should do. Now, unlike many of you, Nuku’alofa had never been very high on my bucket list of things to see and there just haven’t been that many news stories coming out of Nuku’alofa, Tonga lately, but I did have a couple of ideas.

 

SailorJack: “I would love to see the Tonga Toy factory. I’ve told you how I had enjoyed their bright yellow dump trucks as a child and now we have a chance to see where they actually originated.”

SailorJill: “Jack, those were Tonka toys, not Tonga toys, and they are made in Minnesota.”

SailorJack “OK. Let’s at least see if we can find the place where the famous line dance originated.”

SailorJill: “Jack, that’s the Conga Line and not the Tonga Line!”

SailorJack: “Drums?"

SailorJill: “Bongo .”

 

Well that pretty much took care of my suggestions as to what I wanted to see in Nuku’alofa!

 

About that time we were approached by a taxi driver who asked "you want I could teach you Tonga? I take you see famous blowholes of Mapu Mapu." Never one to pass up a straight line I was about to respond when SailorJill's elbow found my ribs. I held my tongue and the driver continued, "I also take you to hanging bats of Kolovai." Another jab to the ribs prevented me from taking advantage of a second straight line! It was then, with a broad smile, the driver concluded his sales pitch by announcing that we conclude the tour by seeing "where are the royal boobies." My God! "Tonga" must mean "land of straight lines!" You can certainly understand why I just couldn't pass this one up, but my brilliant repartee was halted when SailorJill's elbow landed in the approximate area of my spleen. The driver, apparently noticing my sharp gasp and indrawn breath, looked to SailorJill. With an innocent looking smile, she answered his unspoken question; "it's a custom amongst certain married couples in America - used when we are excited about something. As you can see, my husband is so excited he is having a little trouble catching his breath. Of course we will take your tour - let's go!"

 

Recovering somewhat, I managed to squeak out "Cost! How much is it going to cost?" "Get in the car, Jack." I got in the car.

 

The tour turned out to be spectacular. The blowholes turned out to be holes in the coral reef along the coast where the force from powerful waves blew plumes of water as much as 60 feet into the air. The hanging bats, also known as "flying foxes" were most unique and interesting and the "royal boobies" turned out to be "royal bodies" - the burial site of ancient kings. Not only was this a great day of exploration, but when it came time to pay I learned that while I had been somewhat, ah, distracted, SailorJill had negotiated a great rate!

 

After our tour we went into town to do some shopping. The first store we saw featured works by local artisans and as we were admiring the intricate carvings we were approached by a smiling salesperson:

 

Store Owner: “Welcome to my store, may I ask what ship you came on?”

SailorJack: “The Oosterdam.”

Store Owner: “The Hoover Dam?”

SailorJack: "It's a Dutch word - Oosterdam."

Store Owner: "Ghosterdam?"

SailorJack: “No, the name is just a little difficult to explain.”

Store Owner (looking a little nervous): “ What kind of name is that. Did you really come here on a ship?”

SailorJack: “Yes, the Queen Mary.”

Store Owner: “Nice Ship.”

SailorJack: “Thanks.”

 

Day 20 – Noumea, New Caledonia

 

We have arrived at the picturesque island of Noumea, New Caledonia - a place I have wanted to visit ever since first seeing the island on a World War II documentary entitled “McHale’s Navy.” The documentary chronicled the contributions of PT Boats to the war effort and it was here in New Caledonia that Commander McHale and Ensign Parker would bring the crew of PT 73 to recoup from the rigors of fighting in the Pacific theatre.

 

The fact that the Navy was able to use New Caledonia as a base illustrated how far our relations with this country had come since a much earlier unfortunate incident where the crew of the American ship Cutter were killed and eaten by hungry cannibals -which may have been the first documented use of the term “Yankee Pot Roast.”

 

Be that as it may, I had hoped to see if “Frenchie’s Bar” was still operating as I would love to have a beer there. Alas, while we failed to find the bar, we did, however, have a delightful tour which featured stops at marvelous breaches, sweeping mountain vistas, marvelous beaches, fantastic museums, and marvelous beaches. Did I mention that the beaches were topless? No? Well they were!

 

Day 23 - Sydney - Australia

 

Our cruise is sadly over, but we have two glorious days to spend in Sydney before heading back to the States so once ashore we looked for the car that our hotel said would be waiting for us and espied a liveried driver holding a small sign displaying our name.

 

Driver: "Welcome to Sydney, which ship did you just come in on?"

SailorJack: "The Queen Mary."

Driver: "Nice Ship."

SailorJack: "Thanks."

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Sailor Jack - I always love your reviews - but this one I think, is the very best so far:):):) I was laughing out loud so hard I think I scared my dogs:rolleyes: Wonderful review - thank you so very much:)

 

and welcome home from the Queen Mary;)

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