April 18th-19th
Rarotonga, At Sea
Rarotonga, in the Cook Islands, was a nice change from five straight sea days. I got off the ship with the two new musicians who just joined last Sydney, Josh and Eric. We left the ship looking for a good place to grab lunch, and after asking some locals and finding out that there’s no where to get authentic local food, we ended up at some tourist place (Trader Jack’s I believe) where I had a very local, extremely authentic, completely untouched by the western world…Cheeseburger. But hey, it was delicious, absolutely perfect for that place and time, and I was stuck singing Jimmy Buffet for the rest of the day.
We left that place to find a beach that the waitress told us was about 30 minutes back towards the ship, which we did eventually find 60 minutes later. It was a nice walk through the island though, you get a completely different vibe and you feel like you’re somewhere different. We came across a cove with a vacant beach and tried to force as much enjoyment into the 15 minutes I’d allotted the group before I figured we needed to start walking back to the ship. I immediately jumped in the water and just tried floating around for a while. This was going wonderfully till a small fish, enticed by a small mole on my side, actually bit me and invoked a paranoia that encouraged me to get out of the water as soon as possible…stupid fish. And it’s not that it hurt, but being startled by a fish just meant that I couldn’t possibly continue enjoying floating in the water. We were out of time though, so we packed up our things and began walking back and eventually returned to the ship without further incidents.
The sea day that followed was uneventful. I just continue fighting whatever decided to make it’s home in my sinus cavity. Thanks for reading!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Sea Days
April 14th-17th
Sea Days
I’m about 2 weeks late writing out this one...but there really wasn’t much going on. We crossed the international date line on the 16th, meaning we had two 16th’s in a row, which was interesting. This was accompanied by a few too many Groundhog’s Day jokes, of which I enjoyed telling people about where that movie was filmed. Otherwise the only other news is that I’d been sick for these sea days. I’ve been fighting something for a while, but it wasn’t till now that it really took hold. The 14th I had absolutely no voice and was extremely congested. I ended up going to the ship’s doctor, something I’ve never done, and was given a nebulizer (I think) for my voice and some antibiotics. My voice came back slightly on the 15th, but even two weeks later I’m still noticing certain weaknesses in my voice.
So the five sea days passed and I fought whatever disease was waging war inside my sinuses. Tomorrow we’ll be stopping at our first island, Rarotonga.
Sea Days
I’m about 2 weeks late writing out this one...but there really wasn’t much going on. We crossed the international date line on the 16th, meaning we had two 16th’s in a row, which was interesting. This was accompanied by a few too many Groundhog’s Day jokes, of which I enjoyed telling people about where that movie was filmed. Otherwise the only other news is that I’d been sick for these sea days. I’ve been fighting something for a while, but it wasn’t till now that it really took hold. The 14th I had absolutely no voice and was extremely congested. I ended up going to the ship’s doctor, something I’ve never done, and was given a nebulizer (I think) for my voice and some antibiotics. My voice came back slightly on the 15th, but even two weeks later I’m still noticing certain weaknesses in my voice.
So the five sea days passed and I fought whatever disease was waging war inside my sinuses. Tomorrow we’ll be stopping at our first island, Rarotonga.
Sydney
April 13
Sydney
Turnaround day and I’m fighting a decent cold that my roommate happened to give me. I’ve actually been fighting it for a while now, but after a perpetual sore throat my ailment has decided to shift focus to a lovely sinus infection and is starting to take my voice as well. Regardless, I helped my roommate move out this morning and got a new guy, Eric, from Portland. I left the ship for a quick phone call home, quick because I forgot to charge my computer, and then grabbed lunch off the ship. The big plan for today was to meet up with my Sydney friend, Belinda, and sign her onto the ship, something I’d organized a few days ago. So I tried to grab a quick lunch at a café, but after it took 45 minutes for them to serve me my sandwich I came to the conclusion “quick” and “café” are not always synonymous. Also, I was lucky enough to have a bird share the fully digested half of it’s lunch with me all over my arm while I waited for mine…yay. Anyway, I took it all with good humor, ate my lunch quickly, and met my friend at the ship about 5 minutes behind schedule.
I signed Belinda on with no difficulties and gave her a tour. She used to be a spa girl so we spent a lot of time looking around the spa, along with all the other crew areas that brought back a number of memories for her. It was funny to see her walking through the ship and her reactions to things I’ve been taking for granted but that she’d forgotten about since she left ships. She bought me a chocolate bunny as a thank you, I eventually walked her off the ship and we said farewell for the last time this cruise. It’s been nice being able to meet up with her though, and as I’ve said, probably my favorite part of working on ships.
I then tried to get the local tax refunded on my didgeridoo, something customs is supposed to do in Australia. So I found the customs desk, brought my receipt, and was instantly turned away because of my crew status. They’re afraid that crew members will take advantage of this policy, getting refunds at each port, which could easily be remedied with a stamp or hole punch to the receipt, but that’s the policy and it lost me a potential $70, no fun.
Back on the ship I took over as the MD for band rehearsal and the replacement MD did just as he said he would: simply played without saying a word (which is for the better cause I think he’s totally clueless anyway). The shows went fine and I spent most of the day and night thinking about schedules and watching the new band that signed on (because we hadn’t yet clarified what exactly I’d be doing).
And I guess that’s about all. We’ve now left Sydney and Australia for the final time, we’re heading for the Cook islands and French Polynesia, and then Hawaii. I’ll be directing the band from today till when I depart the ship and I’m really excited for the opportunity. Thanks for reading!
Sydney
Turnaround day and I’m fighting a decent cold that my roommate happened to give me. I’ve actually been fighting it for a while now, but after a perpetual sore throat my ailment has decided to shift focus to a lovely sinus infection and is starting to take my voice as well. Regardless, I helped my roommate move out this morning and got a new guy, Eric, from Portland. I left the ship for a quick phone call home, quick because I forgot to charge my computer, and then grabbed lunch off the ship. The big plan for today was to meet up with my Sydney friend, Belinda, and sign her onto the ship, something I’d organized a few days ago. So I tried to grab a quick lunch at a café, but after it took 45 minutes for them to serve me my sandwich I came to the conclusion “quick” and “café” are not always synonymous. Also, I was lucky enough to have a bird share the fully digested half of it’s lunch with me all over my arm while I waited for mine…yay. Anyway, I took it all with good humor, ate my lunch quickly, and met my friend at the ship about 5 minutes behind schedule.
I signed Belinda on with no difficulties and gave her a tour. She used to be a spa girl so we spent a lot of time looking around the spa, along with all the other crew areas that brought back a number of memories for her. It was funny to see her walking through the ship and her reactions to things I’ve been taking for granted but that she’d forgotten about since she left ships. She bought me a chocolate bunny as a thank you, I eventually walked her off the ship and we said farewell for the last time this cruise. It’s been nice being able to meet up with her though, and as I’ve said, probably my favorite part of working on ships.
I then tried to get the local tax refunded on my didgeridoo, something customs is supposed to do in Australia. So I found the customs desk, brought my receipt, and was instantly turned away because of my crew status. They’re afraid that crew members will take advantage of this policy, getting refunds at each port, which could easily be remedied with a stamp or hole punch to the receipt, but that’s the policy and it lost me a potential $70, no fun.
Back on the ship I took over as the MD for band rehearsal and the replacement MD did just as he said he would: simply played without saying a word (which is for the better cause I think he’s totally clueless anyway). The shows went fine and I spent most of the day and night thinking about schedules and watching the new band that signed on (because we hadn’t yet clarified what exactly I’d be doing).
And I guess that’s about all. We’ve now left Sydney and Australia for the final time, we’re heading for the Cook islands and French Polynesia, and then Hawaii. I’ll be directing the band from today till when I depart the ship and I’m really excited for the opportunity. Thanks for reading!
At Sea
April 10-12
At sea
The 10th was supposed to be a stop at Isle of Pines, another beach island, but due to high winds and our need to tender, the port was cancelled and we simply left for Sydney. The remaining two sea days were as usual.
I’ll take this time, however, to fill you in on the situation on the ship. The Musical Director (MD) signs off on the 13th and needs to be replaced. The original plan was to have the Pianist fill in, but after a few weeks of doing the assistant MD work, the pianist opted out leaving one cruise to find a solution to the problem. I was asked about the opportunity and expressed interest, which was passed on to the head office in Miami. The new drummer who just came on the ship this cruise actually has years of MD experience but considers himself retired from the position…this info was also passed to the Miami. The verdict is that the drummer was supposed to become MD regardless of his preference and I was to assist. However, in speaking with the current MD and the replacement, it was turning out that I was going to end up doing all the work, which originally sounded great, till I found out that I wasn’t getting any extra money or privileges. Regardless, I did the training and learned what the job entails, even acted as MD for the first couple days of the next cruise (April 13th and 14th), meaning I scheduled all the bands, ran rehearsals, dealt with emails and notifications, everything. But seeing as I was doing everything without being MD and had no authority to back me up while the MD was being left in the dark, we decided the situation just couldn’t persist in such a way. I sent out a strongly worded email to the office about my demands to do the job properly and my concerns about my treatment and how this effects all the music on the ship. Long story short, we worked it out where I’ll be the AMD, file timecards (busy work) and direct the band, things that the actual MD doesn’t need to do. Meanwhile, the actual MD gets hit with all the heavy office work I’d been doing – I’m just going to have to bring him up to speed with everything I’d already done (6 full days of schedules by day 2) and teach the experienced band leader how the system works…right. Am I getting more money now...not quite. Due to the previous guy backing out last minute and having been paid for almost nothing, the office is reluctant to hand out any more money. What I do get though is the experience of directing the band, free internet access because of my timecard work, and two stellar reviews from the replacement MD and the cruise director, my division head. This should mean I get employed as an MD on another ship, or at least as an AMD, which either way, is a step in the right direction. So that’s the deal, I will be leading the band and I’ll be introduced as the musical director, but I won’t actually have the responsibility and busy work just yet.
That’s the abridged version though, this has been a situation almost 2 weeks in the making. Email me with questions if you have them, otherwise thanks for reading and stay tuned as I make the crossing! Thanks
At sea
The 10th was supposed to be a stop at Isle of Pines, another beach island, but due to high winds and our need to tender, the port was cancelled and we simply left for Sydney. The remaining two sea days were as usual.
I’ll take this time, however, to fill you in on the situation on the ship. The Musical Director (MD) signs off on the 13th and needs to be replaced. The original plan was to have the Pianist fill in, but after a few weeks of doing the assistant MD work, the pianist opted out leaving one cruise to find a solution to the problem. I was asked about the opportunity and expressed interest, which was passed on to the head office in Miami. The new drummer who just came on the ship this cruise actually has years of MD experience but considers himself retired from the position…this info was also passed to the Miami. The verdict is that the drummer was supposed to become MD regardless of his preference and I was to assist. However, in speaking with the current MD and the replacement, it was turning out that I was going to end up doing all the work, which originally sounded great, till I found out that I wasn’t getting any extra money or privileges. Regardless, I did the training and learned what the job entails, even acted as MD for the first couple days of the next cruise (April 13th and 14th), meaning I scheduled all the bands, ran rehearsals, dealt with emails and notifications, everything. But seeing as I was doing everything without being MD and had no authority to back me up while the MD was being left in the dark, we decided the situation just couldn’t persist in such a way. I sent out a strongly worded email to the office about my demands to do the job properly and my concerns about my treatment and how this effects all the music on the ship. Long story short, we worked it out where I’ll be the AMD, file timecards (busy work) and direct the band, things that the actual MD doesn’t need to do. Meanwhile, the actual MD gets hit with all the heavy office work I’d been doing – I’m just going to have to bring him up to speed with everything I’d already done (6 full days of schedules by day 2) and teach the experienced band leader how the system works…right. Am I getting more money now...not quite. Due to the previous guy backing out last minute and having been paid for almost nothing, the office is reluctant to hand out any more money. What I do get though is the experience of directing the band, free internet access because of my timecard work, and two stellar reviews from the replacement MD and the cruise director, my division head. This should mean I get employed as an MD on another ship, or at least as an AMD, which either way, is a step in the right direction. So that’s the deal, I will be leading the band and I’ll be introduced as the musical director, but I won’t actually have the responsibility and busy work just yet.
That’s the abridged version though, this has been a situation almost 2 weeks in the making. Email me with questions if you have them, otherwise thanks for reading and stay tuned as I make the crossing! Thanks
Port Villa, Vanuatu
April 9
Port Vila, Vanuatu.
After having such a great time yesterday, I wasn’t sure that today was going to compare, but when a ton of people tell me to go to the “waterfalls” and that it’s worth it, I start to get my hopes up.
I got off the ship after rehearsal with Alex (the same guy who I went with yesterday), and a couple other friends knowing that this would make the cab ride cheaper. We walked through the stalls set up in the pier and were greeted at the gate by about a dozen different drivers all trying to give us the best price. I actually don’t think I’ve ever seen such a group of drivers being so aggressive. We ended up going with the guy who said $3 each, by far the best deal, even if he started hustling us….which he did.
The first problem was that one of my friends in our group of five backed out last minute, after we’d already negotiated a price, not making the driver very happy. We said we’d pay $15 anyways (3x5), and after waiting for the driver to do some basic math and figure out we were being honest, we left. That’s when he said it’s $3 one way, or $15 there, $15 back…but that was still a deal so we were ok and continued on through the city to the waterfalls. When we got at the waterfalls, we expected the driver to wait for us, which is the norm in places such as these, but this also was going to cost us. We didn’t want to pay the fee, which angered the dude. We were then swore at, verbally assaulted, what have you, it was almost surreal that this was actually happening. My friends in the front seats decided to go with an extra $20 for waiting, I wanted to find a different cab, but being outvoted and knowing I would still have the ride for about $10, it wasn’t too bad. So we left and entered the park.
After the $20 admittance fee (one of the first places I’ve been to that charged a fee) we started wandering the trails along a large number of small, unimpressive waterfalls, all having an unusually blue tint. A ways deeper into the jungle it got more impressive as you found yourself looking out over huge ravines. And then at the end all the recommendations proved themselves true as you came to the base of a 200+ foot waterfall, the largest I’ve ever had the chance to swim in (yes, swim in). So we spent a good 40 minutes just checking out the different waterfalls and pools that were caused by this massive falling wall of water, again being able to pretend that none of the other tourists were around. I wanted to take some pictures, but as you know, the camera didn’t quite make it through yesterday, so I’m stuck having to take pics from friends. But we eventually all left and went back to the cab who returned us to the ship with no further hassle, and as we were out of time for the day, that’s all I have to write, thanks!
Port Vila, Vanuatu.
After having such a great time yesterday, I wasn’t sure that today was going to compare, but when a ton of people tell me to go to the “waterfalls” and that it’s worth it, I start to get my hopes up.
I got off the ship after rehearsal with Alex (the same guy who I went with yesterday), and a couple other friends knowing that this would make the cab ride cheaper. We walked through the stalls set up in the pier and were greeted at the gate by about a dozen different drivers all trying to give us the best price. I actually don’t think I’ve ever seen such a group of drivers being so aggressive. We ended up going with the guy who said $3 each, by far the best deal, even if he started hustling us….which he did.
The first problem was that one of my friends in our group of five backed out last minute, after we’d already negotiated a price, not making the driver very happy. We said we’d pay $15 anyways (3x5), and after waiting for the driver to do some basic math and figure out we were being honest, we left. That’s when he said it’s $3 one way, or $15 there, $15 back…but that was still a deal so we were ok and continued on through the city to the waterfalls. When we got at the waterfalls, we expected the driver to wait for us, which is the norm in places such as these, but this also was going to cost us. We didn’t want to pay the fee, which angered the dude. We were then swore at, verbally assaulted, what have you, it was almost surreal that this was actually happening. My friends in the front seats decided to go with an extra $20 for waiting, I wanted to find a different cab, but being outvoted and knowing I would still have the ride for about $10, it wasn’t too bad. So we left and entered the park.
After the $20 admittance fee (one of the first places I’ve been to that charged a fee) we started wandering the trails along a large number of small, unimpressive waterfalls, all having an unusually blue tint. A ways deeper into the jungle it got more impressive as you found yourself looking out over huge ravines. And then at the end all the recommendations proved themselves true as you came to the base of a 200+ foot waterfall, the largest I’ve ever had the chance to swim in (yes, swim in). So we spent a good 40 minutes just checking out the different waterfalls and pools that were caused by this massive falling wall of water, again being able to pretend that none of the other tourists were around. I wanted to take some pictures, but as you know, the camera didn’t quite make it through yesterday, so I’m stuck having to take pics from friends. But we eventually all left and went back to the cab who returned us to the ship with no further hassle, and as we were out of time for the day, that’s all I have to write, thanks!
At Sea/Luganville
April 7-8
At sea, Luganville
The sea day was nothing to write home about…so I won’t
Luganville, a major city in Vanuatu (though you wouldn’t guess it), turned out to be one of my favorite days on ships. After asking around I found that the place to go was the “Blue Hole”, a cove in a water system that comprised of amazingly blue water. And I don’t mean blue like the Caribbean, I mean as in the water looked to be dyed blue. I think if you drank enough of this water you’d likely urinate blue (if it didn’t kill you first). I have no idea why the water was as blue as it was, certainly some sort of mineral, but it made for a gorgeous area and a great place to swim!
But before I get there, let me start out with transportation. I ended up getting off the ship with a couple friends and we were greeted by some cab drivers at the gangway. We told them we wanted to see the Blue Hole, were directed to a guy and we worked out the price, $40 AU round trip and he’d wait for us (much better than their original offers). After we’d agreed on the price our driver showed us his car…or should I say pickup truck. There was one, maybe two seats in front and theoretically unlimited seating in the back (if you saw some of the local people in these trucks you’d know what I mean). But the point is, this wasn’t your usual taxi as they never are in ports like this. So me and the other guy jumped in the back while the girl of the group sat up front. We then made a 40 minute drive deep into the island though palm tree fields and down dirt roads, all in away that made you really feel like you weren’t apart of a cruise ship, you felt as if it was a safari, and mind you I was standing in the back grabbing on to some rail that ran up and behind the cab. An many pot holes and dirt roads later we arrived at tourist central in the middle of a forest.
It took some time to bypass the old white tourists that made this place feel like it was less special than it was, but as soon as we got around them and to the main swimming hole, you were suddenly in another world. The water was a bright blue, slightly chilly, and surrounded by huge, gorgeous trees. The best part however was just a short swim away to the other side of the swimming hole where about a dozen local teens were climbing in the trees and swinging off a huge rope swing. Here was the magic.
I swam over and was instantly greeted by all the locals and the few younger tourists brave enough to make the swim over. Looking up you saw a huge rope swing hanging off this large branch that stretched far over the water. This single branch was purpose built by the Vanuatu God(s) for a rope swing, that’s how perfect it was. The first half stretched out parallel to the water, about 20 feet up. That lower half came to a ledge where the upper portion continued out off, shooting at a 45 degree angle into the air, ending just far enough away and just high enough for a rope swing. A younger local sat at the top of this branch swinging the swing back after each attempt to swing out of this tree.
The locals would walk the branch with unbelievable ease, get to the swing with out hesitation, and beautifully execute every maneuver during their flight. Then there was me… The carefully approached the tree climbing along side this root system that lead up from the water, stepped onto the branch and found it amazingly slippery. I quickly abandoned any hopes of walking the branch and opted for the straddling technique, though not very flattering, much less likely to kill me. Slowly I made my way out and stood at the ledge of the branch where the local guy swung the rope to me. There was another kid one step further towards the ledge watching and helping and a third one relaxing hanging onto the ascending limb telling me not to jump and to simply relax. Well, I tried the relaxing thing as best I could, stepped off the branch, swung 20 feet down and pretended my body was a skipping stone as my grip failed me directly at the bottom of my decent. Fail… I tried again, climbed the tree, straddled the branch, was told to relax, and again, Fail. Third time, was the same outcome. My friend at this point had already managed a successful swing, and me not willing to leave the Blue Hole until I succeeded took his advice for my next swing. Apparently my problem was that I was holding onto the swing in a half pull-up position, where as he figured if I swung down with my arms fully extended I’d have better luck. And believe it or not, the next four swings were all blazingly successful, each consisting of at least one full swing, and even with some culminating with my attempt at back flip dismount, which can only lead to me falling head first into the center of the lake with the most awful form imaginable. And that, my friends, was the rope swing.
This was followed by the next extreme event, high diving. We achieved the “high” half of high diving by climbing the most amazing tree I’ve ever seen. This tree seemed to be a collage of roots making a mock-ladder all the way up the trunk. The elegance of the vines winding everywhere around this tree seemed nothing short of mystical. Anyway, my friend and I climbed the tree, caught our breath, and then stared down at what must have been a 40 foot jump. Directly below us sat our spectators, maybe not the most intelligent positioning, but I guess it only added to the event. As a side note, the “Blue Hole” is called a hole because it gets considerably deep immediately after entering the water, so there was no fear of hitting the bottom with even a jump of this height. My friend jumped with not problems and signaled for me to come down. I took a deep breath, pushed off the slippery limb I was standing on, and again with everything but grace, made my way into the water and landed slightly sideways. I came up from under the water to cheers from the locals and the other cruise ship people, yet another part of the camaraderie this location created within each of us.
We were starting to run out of time and I realized that I hadn’t yet taken pictures so I swam back to where I’d left my backpack, grabbed my waterproof camera and jumped back in the water to take some pics of the blue water and trees. But as soon as I jumped in the water and turned my camera on I discovered a problem…the display screen wasn’t displaying anything! I couldn’t figure out why, and instead of fighting with it while I treaded water, I swam back to the trees for a closer look. I found that the camera did appear to be turning on and even seemed to take pictures and video, but still wasn’t showing anything in the display. Eventually, and unfortunately right when I wanted video of myself, it stopped taking pictures all together and even fell asleep to never be awaken again. More on that later.
Disappointed by the water damage to my waterproof camera, I finished up with the locals and we all returned to the taxi who was waiting to take us back to the ship. We all hopped into the back of the truck this time and had a nice ride home reflecting on what we’d just done and how great the day turned out. Oh, and all the while waving at every one we passed, who always initiated the waving because three white tourists standing in a truck bed isn’t a daily site for them. But you couldn’t ask for a friendlier people, despite the fact the area is so third world-ish.
We returned to the ship and with some time to spare picked up a local drink at a pub, enjoyed our last few minutes of Luganville. Back on the ship I did a diagnoses of the camera of which I’m giving a DOA (Dead on arrival). Opening the battery case I found water, opening the USB port I found water, and just looking at the display screen showed water had gotten under the screen. I’ve been letting it dry out but it still doesn’t want to turn on and may never be revived again. Good news however is that I have the warranty, meaning I get a new camera from best buy when I get home…bad news is that home is a month away. Well, at least I still have my iPhone for some pics. But that’s the day – certainly in my top 5 of all my days on ships. The experience was just so perfect and to be able to hang with the locals and feel so welcomed made today what I always imagine traveling should be – about the people and what they do. Thanks for reading and thanks to all my new friends in Vanuatu!
At sea, Luganville
The sea day was nothing to write home about…so I won’t
Luganville, a major city in Vanuatu (though you wouldn’t guess it), turned out to be one of my favorite days on ships. After asking around I found that the place to go was the “Blue Hole”, a cove in a water system that comprised of amazingly blue water. And I don’t mean blue like the Caribbean, I mean as in the water looked to be dyed blue. I think if you drank enough of this water you’d likely urinate blue (if it didn’t kill you first). I have no idea why the water was as blue as it was, certainly some sort of mineral, but it made for a gorgeous area and a great place to swim!
But before I get there, let me start out with transportation. I ended up getting off the ship with a couple friends and we were greeted by some cab drivers at the gangway. We told them we wanted to see the Blue Hole, were directed to a guy and we worked out the price, $40 AU round trip and he’d wait for us (much better than their original offers). After we’d agreed on the price our driver showed us his car…or should I say pickup truck. There was one, maybe two seats in front and theoretically unlimited seating in the back (if you saw some of the local people in these trucks you’d know what I mean). But the point is, this wasn’t your usual taxi as they never are in ports like this. So me and the other guy jumped in the back while the girl of the group sat up front. We then made a 40 minute drive deep into the island though palm tree fields and down dirt roads, all in away that made you really feel like you weren’t apart of a cruise ship, you felt as if it was a safari, and mind you I was standing in the back grabbing on to some rail that ran up and behind the cab. An many pot holes and dirt roads later we arrived at tourist central in the middle of a forest.
It took some time to bypass the old white tourists that made this place feel like it was less special than it was, but as soon as we got around them and to the main swimming hole, you were suddenly in another world. The water was a bright blue, slightly chilly, and surrounded by huge, gorgeous trees. The best part however was just a short swim away to the other side of the swimming hole where about a dozen local teens were climbing in the trees and swinging off a huge rope swing. Here was the magic.
I swam over and was instantly greeted by all the locals and the few younger tourists brave enough to make the swim over. Looking up you saw a huge rope swing hanging off this large branch that stretched far over the water. This single branch was purpose built by the Vanuatu God(s) for a rope swing, that’s how perfect it was. The first half stretched out parallel to the water, about 20 feet up. That lower half came to a ledge where the upper portion continued out off, shooting at a 45 degree angle into the air, ending just far enough away and just high enough for a rope swing. A younger local sat at the top of this branch swinging the swing back after each attempt to swing out of this tree.
The locals would walk the branch with unbelievable ease, get to the swing with out hesitation, and beautifully execute every maneuver during their flight. Then there was me… The carefully approached the tree climbing along side this root system that lead up from the water, stepped onto the branch and found it amazingly slippery. I quickly abandoned any hopes of walking the branch and opted for the straddling technique, though not very flattering, much less likely to kill me. Slowly I made my way out and stood at the ledge of the branch where the local guy swung the rope to me. There was another kid one step further towards the ledge watching and helping and a third one relaxing hanging onto the ascending limb telling me not to jump and to simply relax. Well, I tried the relaxing thing as best I could, stepped off the branch, swung 20 feet down and pretended my body was a skipping stone as my grip failed me directly at the bottom of my decent. Fail… I tried again, climbed the tree, straddled the branch, was told to relax, and again, Fail. Third time, was the same outcome. My friend at this point had already managed a successful swing, and me not willing to leave the Blue Hole until I succeeded took his advice for my next swing. Apparently my problem was that I was holding onto the swing in a half pull-up position, where as he figured if I swung down with my arms fully extended I’d have better luck. And believe it or not, the next four swings were all blazingly successful, each consisting of at least one full swing, and even with some culminating with my attempt at back flip dismount, which can only lead to me falling head first into the center of the lake with the most awful form imaginable. And that, my friends, was the rope swing.
This was followed by the next extreme event, high diving. We achieved the “high” half of high diving by climbing the most amazing tree I’ve ever seen. This tree seemed to be a collage of roots making a mock-ladder all the way up the trunk. The elegance of the vines winding everywhere around this tree seemed nothing short of mystical. Anyway, my friend and I climbed the tree, caught our breath, and then stared down at what must have been a 40 foot jump. Directly below us sat our spectators, maybe not the most intelligent positioning, but I guess it only added to the event. As a side note, the “Blue Hole” is called a hole because it gets considerably deep immediately after entering the water, so there was no fear of hitting the bottom with even a jump of this height. My friend jumped with not problems and signaled for me to come down. I took a deep breath, pushed off the slippery limb I was standing on, and again with everything but grace, made my way into the water and landed slightly sideways. I came up from under the water to cheers from the locals and the other cruise ship people, yet another part of the camaraderie this location created within each of us.
We were starting to run out of time and I realized that I hadn’t yet taken pictures so I swam back to where I’d left my backpack, grabbed my waterproof camera and jumped back in the water to take some pics of the blue water and trees. But as soon as I jumped in the water and turned my camera on I discovered a problem…the display screen wasn’t displaying anything! I couldn’t figure out why, and instead of fighting with it while I treaded water, I swam back to the trees for a closer look. I found that the camera did appear to be turning on and even seemed to take pictures and video, but still wasn’t showing anything in the display. Eventually, and unfortunately right when I wanted video of myself, it stopped taking pictures all together and even fell asleep to never be awaken again. More on that later.
Disappointed by the water damage to my waterproof camera, I finished up with the locals and we all returned to the taxi who was waiting to take us back to the ship. We all hopped into the back of the truck this time and had a nice ride home reflecting on what we’d just done and how great the day turned out. Oh, and all the while waving at every one we passed, who always initiated the waving because three white tourists standing in a truck bed isn’t a daily site for them. But you couldn’t ask for a friendlier people, despite the fact the area is so third world-ish.
We returned to the ship and with some time to spare picked up a local drink at a pub, enjoyed our last few minutes of Luganville. Back on the ship I did a diagnoses of the camera of which I’m giving a DOA (Dead on arrival). Opening the battery case I found water, opening the USB port I found water, and just looking at the display screen showed water had gotten under the screen. I’ve been letting it dry out but it still doesn’t want to turn on and may never be revived again. Good news however is that I have the warranty, meaning I get a new camera from best buy when I get home…bad news is that home is a month away. Well, at least I still have my iPhone for some pics. But that’s the day – certainly in my top 5 of all my days on ships. The experience was just so perfect and to be able to hang with the locals and feel so welcomed made today what I always imagine traveling should be – about the people and what they do. Thanks for reading and thanks to all my new friends in Vanuatu!
Mystery Island
April 6
Mystery Island
Mystery Island is a tiny little island pretty much designed for cruise ships. I tendered ashore with Terry and we set off to do some exploring and swimming at this tiny little place.
The island was gorgeous though, absolutely picture perfect and just what you might imagine the south Pacific to be. There wasn’t much on the island aside for a few stands that get set up specifically for ship tourists. Terry and I walked around the entire island, stopping at a couple places to swim, just a nice lazy sort of day. The highlight, however, was when we came across the Caribbean band from the ship who were sitting down at the water cracking open coconuts on the rocks and eating them (talk about a stereotype). Well that’s just the sort of thing that I was interested in doing, so I went with one of the guys, helped him bring back some coconuts after he climbed a tree and knocked them down, and went to the beach for some fresh coconut water. They showed me how to crack it the proper way (of which takes almost no skill) and I was soon enjoying my local drink. It was just another of those classic/authentic moments that I really like having that made everything perfect right then.
This was followed by another beach stop. Terry hung around for a bit but I wanted to stay and hang on that beach as long as possible and enjoy the area. There’s not much you can really say about sitting on a beach to make it sound interesting, but the one thing that was really cool was that as soon as Terry left and I laid quiet for a few minutes, a dozen little crabs emerged from the sand thinking no one else was around. It was almost Zen-like watching these crabs go to work on their little holes. They’d continuously go in and out of the holes, and with each exit, throw as much sand as their legs could hold out and away from their humble abodes. Then, a large wave would come, which they’d see immediately, and at lightning speed they’d run back to their hole, the wave would go over, and they’d pop back out and start throwing sand all over again. This made me contemplate the origin of the word “crabby”, to which I figured if my home was basically washed away every couple minutes, I wouldn’t be in such a great mood either. This stupid conclusion humored me and I continued watching. I eventually changed position and stood over a gigantic hole where I’d seen the Daddy of all sand crabs going in and out of. After another couple minutes of waiting, the small crabs decided to reemerge, but Poppa Crab who I was so eager to see up close, would do nothing more than pop his head out of his hole and immediately duck back in after seeing a large figure positioned directly overtop of him. I figure that’s the reason he got so big…caution.
Anyway, enough about the crabs. I made my way back to the ship thoroughly amused, hopped on the tender and said good bye to Mystery Island. All in all it was a nice relaxing day, one where you didn’t have a choice but to just sit down and enjoy just being where you were. Thanks for reading!
Mystery Island
Mystery Island is a tiny little island pretty much designed for cruise ships. I tendered ashore with Terry and we set off to do some exploring and swimming at this tiny little place.
The island was gorgeous though, absolutely picture perfect and just what you might imagine the south Pacific to be. There wasn’t much on the island aside for a few stands that get set up specifically for ship tourists. Terry and I walked around the entire island, stopping at a couple places to swim, just a nice lazy sort of day. The highlight, however, was when we came across the Caribbean band from the ship who were sitting down at the water cracking open coconuts on the rocks and eating them (talk about a stereotype). Well that’s just the sort of thing that I was interested in doing, so I went with one of the guys, helped him bring back some coconuts after he climbed a tree and knocked them down, and went to the beach for some fresh coconut water. They showed me how to crack it the proper way (of which takes almost no skill) and I was soon enjoying my local drink. It was just another of those classic/authentic moments that I really like having that made everything perfect right then.
This was followed by another beach stop. Terry hung around for a bit but I wanted to stay and hang on that beach as long as possible and enjoy the area. There’s not much you can really say about sitting on a beach to make it sound interesting, but the one thing that was really cool was that as soon as Terry left and I laid quiet for a few minutes, a dozen little crabs emerged from the sand thinking no one else was around. It was almost Zen-like watching these crabs go to work on their little holes. They’d continuously go in and out of the holes, and with each exit, throw as much sand as their legs could hold out and away from their humble abodes. Then, a large wave would come, which they’d see immediately, and at lightning speed they’d run back to their hole, the wave would go over, and they’d pop back out and start throwing sand all over again. This made me contemplate the origin of the word “crabby”, to which I figured if my home was basically washed away every couple minutes, I wouldn’t be in such a great mood either. This stupid conclusion humored me and I continued watching. I eventually changed position and stood over a gigantic hole where I’d seen the Daddy of all sand crabs going in and out of. After another couple minutes of waiting, the small crabs decided to reemerge, but Poppa Crab who I was so eager to see up close, would do nothing more than pop his head out of his hole and immediately duck back in after seeing a large figure positioned directly overtop of him. I figure that’s the reason he got so big…caution.
Anyway, enough about the crabs. I made my way back to the ship thoroughly amused, hopped on the tender and said good bye to Mystery Island. All in all it was a nice relaxing day, one where you didn’t have a choice but to just sit down and enjoy just being where you were. Thanks for reading!
Noumea
April 5
Noumea
Today we were in Noumea, New Caledonia. I got off the ship with Tina (yeah, the same person who got me lost on the mountain) and we went walking (after our original plan to bike failed) through the city hoping to eventually find a beach. We started out by going to some lookout, which was fine, then began walking through the back roads of the city in the direction of water, or so we thought, and maybe an hour later we found it. Today was fairly windy, thus bringing out all the wind surfers and kite boarders. Windsurfing has been on my to-do list for too long so I figured I’d look into it.
We walked down the beach that seemed to be wind-surfer-central and came across a hut that was renting out the boards and sails. To clarify, windsurfing is basically a surfboard with a sail attached in the center to use the wind for propulsion. I’ve seen wind surfers forever and never had a decent opportunity to try it – I was excited that today might just be that day. I approached the hut and asked about renting a board, to which they looked at me with a dumbfounded look. Problem was that New Caledonia is a French speaking island, yeah, go figure, and no one at the shop spoke fluent English. I tried talking with one guy who knew a little English and all I really got out of him was that the winds are too high for a beginner. Not that that would have stopped me, but the fact I couldn’t quite get any instruction if I spent the next hour floundering with a sail over my head did offer enough reason to further postpone my goal. We moved on.
The next stop was a beach where we could actually swim, as opposed to the windsurfing only area. The water was a little cool but nice, and there was a dock that stretched out into the water from which I tried (unsuccessfully) doing front flips off of. Next to this beach was another small cove overrun by Kite-boarders. Kite Boarding is where you strap a board to your feet and hold on to a big kite which then pulls you through and out of the water, a pretty cool thing to do (and also on my list). So we spent some time swimming at our beach watching the kite boarders getting pulled 30 feet out of the water by kites over at their beach, pretty cool actually. We checked them out for a bit, and not sure about how long it would take to walk back, we turned and left.
We ran across a few people from the ship as we were walking back, leading us to believe we weren’t too far from the pier, little did we know they took a bus to that beach. Anyway, we kept walking, around one cove and over another hill and past another beach, always thinking we were going to see the ship as soon as we turned the corner. This went on for over an hour, all of which bringing us closer to the last shuttle time, yet another nail biter walking through a foreign area with little knowledge of how long it would actually take to return. But hey, at least we weren’t running down anymore mountains.
But we did made it back on time, got to see a good deal of the city and do some swimming. Another successful day in my book…Thanks!
Noumea
Today we were in Noumea, New Caledonia. I got off the ship with Tina (yeah, the same person who got me lost on the mountain) and we went walking (after our original plan to bike failed) through the city hoping to eventually find a beach. We started out by going to some lookout, which was fine, then began walking through the back roads of the city in the direction of water, or so we thought, and maybe an hour later we found it. Today was fairly windy, thus bringing out all the wind surfers and kite boarders. Windsurfing has been on my to-do list for too long so I figured I’d look into it.
We walked down the beach that seemed to be wind-surfer-central and came across a hut that was renting out the boards and sails. To clarify, windsurfing is basically a surfboard with a sail attached in the center to use the wind for propulsion. I’ve seen wind surfers forever and never had a decent opportunity to try it – I was excited that today might just be that day. I approached the hut and asked about renting a board, to which they looked at me with a dumbfounded look. Problem was that New Caledonia is a French speaking island, yeah, go figure, and no one at the shop spoke fluent English. I tried talking with one guy who knew a little English and all I really got out of him was that the winds are too high for a beginner. Not that that would have stopped me, but the fact I couldn’t quite get any instruction if I spent the next hour floundering with a sail over my head did offer enough reason to further postpone my goal. We moved on.
The next stop was a beach where we could actually swim, as opposed to the windsurfing only area. The water was a little cool but nice, and there was a dock that stretched out into the water from which I tried (unsuccessfully) doing front flips off of. Next to this beach was another small cove overrun by Kite-boarders. Kite Boarding is where you strap a board to your feet and hold on to a big kite which then pulls you through and out of the water, a pretty cool thing to do (and also on my list). So we spent some time swimming at our beach watching the kite boarders getting pulled 30 feet out of the water by kites over at their beach, pretty cool actually. We checked them out for a bit, and not sure about how long it would take to walk back, we turned and left.
We ran across a few people from the ship as we were walking back, leading us to believe we weren’t too far from the pier, little did we know they took a bus to that beach. Anyway, we kept walking, around one cove and over another hill and past another beach, always thinking we were going to see the ship as soon as we turned the corner. This went on for over an hour, all of which bringing us closer to the last shuttle time, yet another nail biter walking through a foreign area with little knowledge of how long it would actually take to return. But hey, at least we weren’t running down anymore mountains.
But we did made it back on time, got to see a good deal of the city and do some swimming. Another successful day in my book…Thanks!
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Sydney/Sea Days
April 2-4
Sydney/At sea/At sea
After a night out at sea we were back in Sydney and I was ready to get back to the didge shop. I’d rounded up my friends the previous night and made plans for our excursion to the store 2 blocks from the ship. Involved was my friend Moody from Virginia (a sound engineer on the ship), and Marie from France (a dancer accompanied by her boyfriend). We hung out at the store for a while and to get straight to the point, I sold Moody my old didge, Marie bought a $350 AU didge, and I bought a $500 AU didge, the best one in the store.
Ok, Ok, settle down for just a second. I actually got it at 10% off, so $450, and will get another $70 back in taxes when I go to customs, bringing it down to $380. And convert that to US dollars and you’re looking at about $250, almost nothing when compared to the many saxes, flutes, clarinet, keyboards, what have you, that I’ve had to buy over the years. And this was not only an instrument but is a piece of the culture, made and painted by an Aborigine (Kym Willis), and an amazing sounding horn. I’m gonna be famous when I come home, just you wait and see!
After that big excitement, I left the shop with both my old didge and the new didge along with my backpack to use my computer again at the nearest free internet signal. This was followed by a quest to find a new pair of headphones and ear plugs and a stop at the Apple store. It wasn’t till about then that it hit me it was 3 something and I hadn’t eaten all day (the didge store just took all my food worries), where in I stopped at a crummy sushi place, got a cheap lunch assortment, and made my way back to the ship, still carrying 20 pounds of eucalyptus wood over my shoulder.
Nothing too exciting back at the ship, we just received our new group of passengers and left Sydney for New Caledonia.
The next two sea days are nothing worth mentioning. I’ve been practicing my didge, but only for 15 minutes out of fear for cracking it (like I did to my first one by playing it too much). Thanks for reading and keep checking back!
Sydney/At sea/At sea
After a night out at sea we were back in Sydney and I was ready to get back to the didge shop. I’d rounded up my friends the previous night and made plans for our excursion to the store 2 blocks from the ship. Involved was my friend Moody from Virginia (a sound engineer on the ship), and Marie from France (a dancer accompanied by her boyfriend). We hung out at the store for a while and to get straight to the point, I sold Moody my old didge, Marie bought a $350 AU didge, and I bought a $500 AU didge, the best one in the store.
Ok, Ok, settle down for just a second. I actually got it at 10% off, so $450, and will get another $70 back in taxes when I go to customs, bringing it down to $380. And convert that to US dollars and you’re looking at about $250, almost nothing when compared to the many saxes, flutes, clarinet, keyboards, what have you, that I’ve had to buy over the years. And this was not only an instrument but is a piece of the culture, made and painted by an Aborigine (Kym Willis), and an amazing sounding horn. I’m gonna be famous when I come home, just you wait and see!
After that big excitement, I left the shop with both my old didge and the new didge along with my backpack to use my computer again at the nearest free internet signal. This was followed by a quest to find a new pair of headphones and ear plugs and a stop at the Apple store. It wasn’t till about then that it hit me it was 3 something and I hadn’t eaten all day (the didge store just took all my food worries), where in I stopped at a crummy sushi place, got a cheap lunch assortment, and made my way back to the ship, still carrying 20 pounds of eucalyptus wood over my shoulder.
Nothing too exciting back at the ship, we just received our new group of passengers and left Sydney for New Caledonia.
The next two sea days are nothing worth mentioning. I’ve been practicing my didge, but only for 15 minutes out of fear for cracking it (like I did to my first one by playing it too much). Thanks for reading and keep checking back!
Sydney
March 31-April 1
Sydney
This visit to Sydney was slightly different than the usual. Instead of docking for the day, exchanging passengers and leaving again, we had two overnight charters. This meant the passengers from our last cruise left the ship, a company sent rented out the ship for the evening and then left in the morning. Luckily for the crew, the first charter didn’t want to leave the port (as opposed to sailing to nowhere), giving the crew another overnight in Sydney, always a welcomed event.
I had big plans for Sydney on the 31st. First there was the matter of getting my hair cut, where in a friend showed me a place where you get a decent hair cut in record time and for $12 AU, or about $8 – just my style. It was just as promised, I chopped off my now overgrown mop, and am now sporting my more streamlined look.
This was followed by a trip to get money exchanged. I believe that I put this in the post last time I was in Sydney, but my goal for this Sydney was to win back the money I lost in the casino last time I was in town. To do this I was going to play roulette, bet either red or black, and double my bet every time I lost (not an entirely original idea, but mathematically much more in my favor). The trick is going in with enough money that you can double your bet multiple times, thus increasing your odds. So I changed over a decent amount of money, more than I’d like to admit to my family, and went to meet my destiny (and take some revenge for the $50 the casino owed me).
I met up with Terry, the original bad influence who took me to the Casino, and we made our way over. I sat down at one of the rapid roulette tables, put my money in the machine, and began implementing my strategy. Well, let’s put it this way…I had my revenge. I left the table with $300 more in chips than I started with, enough to compensate the prior loss and then some. 300 was the magic number for me so I stopped, cashed in my chips, and have now retired from casinos (till a better strategy hits me).
I returned to the ship at that point to play my first set of the evening, a 40 minute big band set to a room full of people who couldn’t have cared less. This was followed by hanging out in my room till the next set, a repeat of the first. It wasn’t till the end of the second set that the night could begin.
I got off the ship and met some friends at the Opera Bar, named after the famous Opera House and located on the pier just beneath it. We hung out there for a little while listening to a local duo before heading out for the infamous “World Bar”, a place one of my friends swore was guaranteed to be a good time. My group of 5 grabbed two cabs and made our way to the red light district – aptly named “Potts Point” (I wish I was kidding).
My friend described the area as a very tame Red Light district, “one you could bring your Grandma to” he told me (no wild ideas grandma!). And though it was packed with adult entertainment, it was surprisingly clean and inviting, not scummy at all. Anyways, the cabby dropped us off somewhere in the area where we then found our way to the World Bar to see what was in store.
After the guy at the gate checked our ID’s we were let into a packed club spread out over three levels (actually the top level was closed, but three sounds more impressive). Now I’m not a big club guy, nor do I go bar hopping, but you could tell this was the happening place, especially for a Tuesday night. But again, I’m not big into clubbing, and managed to have a couple drinks, talk to a couple of Swedish girls, and spend the rest of my time worrying about the escalating risk of permanent hearing loss…sorry, I kind of need my ears. It was a good vibe though so I enjoyed myself, but we left within an hour in search of a better scene.
This is where the night got weird. It started with us all getting in two cabs again, and telling our driver to take us to a bar back down town. I should have been tipped off that things were going to go downhill when I saw my cabby wearing a white hardhat with “kick me” written all over it in sharpie marker. He was an interesting guy though, older German dude from what I could gather, who I think was more interested in finding a party for himself than for us. He took us where we requested, only to find that it was past admittance hours, wherein he suggested we go to a bar of his choosing, another $10 back to where we came from at Potts Point. His bar was empty, and with the group still not satisfied, he took us somewhere else, and yet another dive. My friends in the cab with me had him talked into not charging us for the cab rides by means of buying him drinks at whatever bar he finds us. However, after three failed attempts, two of my friends (the more responsible ones) decided they had had enough and broke off from the group, and staring at either going with my responsible friends or the crazy ones with the head-geared-cabby we named George, I took the more conservative route and left the cabby.
From here we split, My friends and I found some food from one of the many joints set up along the street, ran into another group of Swedish girls (go figure), and caught a cab back to the ship, returning us at about 4 am. I concluded the night in a buddy’s room playing Mario cart for Wii, maybe not the most exciting ending, but a far better result than ending up who knows where with a crack-pot cabby with two guys that couldn’t see straight.
The next day was completely off so I left the ship when I managed to wake up (around 1:30) and tried to get some internet time in. I only had till 5 when we were scheduled to leave with the next charter so I was kind of pressed for time. My other goal for the day was to find a decent Didgeridoo shop to check out seeing as my interest had sparked the interest of two friends of mine, both of whom I’d love to see playing the didge. I figured I’d ask the aborigine playing didge on the pier where I could find a shop, a good idea, and he directed me back towards the ship to a small souvenir shop with a good deal of didges in the window. Sydney is packed with souvenir shops, all o which have didgeridoos in the windows and this place looked no different, but when a guy in a loin cloth and body paint tells you to check something out, you do it.
I walked in the shop, grabbed a few didges, was fairly surprised at the quality, and spent the next 90 minutes talking to the retailer about his horns. Let me also add that the owner was quite impressed with my playing and almost fell over when I told him I’d been playing for just over 2 weeks. But I was running out of time and told the guy I’d be back the next day with some friends to check out the didges again. I left, hopped on the ship and waited for the second charter to finish so I could get back to the didge store.
And that’s it for the day…keep reading for the continuation of this nail biter (yeah, maybe not quite, but thanks for hanging in there).
Sydney
This visit to Sydney was slightly different than the usual. Instead of docking for the day, exchanging passengers and leaving again, we had two overnight charters. This meant the passengers from our last cruise left the ship, a company sent rented out the ship for the evening and then left in the morning. Luckily for the crew, the first charter didn’t want to leave the port (as opposed to sailing to nowhere), giving the crew another overnight in Sydney, always a welcomed event.
I had big plans for Sydney on the 31st. First there was the matter of getting my hair cut, where in a friend showed me a place where you get a decent hair cut in record time and for $12 AU, or about $8 – just my style. It was just as promised, I chopped off my now overgrown mop, and am now sporting my more streamlined look.
This was followed by a trip to get money exchanged. I believe that I put this in the post last time I was in Sydney, but my goal for this Sydney was to win back the money I lost in the casino last time I was in town. To do this I was going to play roulette, bet either red or black, and double my bet every time I lost (not an entirely original idea, but mathematically much more in my favor). The trick is going in with enough money that you can double your bet multiple times, thus increasing your odds. So I changed over a decent amount of money, more than I’d like to admit to my family, and went to meet my destiny (and take some revenge for the $50 the casino owed me).
I met up with Terry, the original bad influence who took me to the Casino, and we made our way over. I sat down at one of the rapid roulette tables, put my money in the machine, and began implementing my strategy. Well, let’s put it this way…I had my revenge. I left the table with $300 more in chips than I started with, enough to compensate the prior loss and then some. 300 was the magic number for me so I stopped, cashed in my chips, and have now retired from casinos (till a better strategy hits me).
I returned to the ship at that point to play my first set of the evening, a 40 minute big band set to a room full of people who couldn’t have cared less. This was followed by hanging out in my room till the next set, a repeat of the first. It wasn’t till the end of the second set that the night could begin.
I got off the ship and met some friends at the Opera Bar, named after the famous Opera House and located on the pier just beneath it. We hung out there for a little while listening to a local duo before heading out for the infamous “World Bar”, a place one of my friends swore was guaranteed to be a good time. My group of 5 grabbed two cabs and made our way to the red light district – aptly named “Potts Point” (I wish I was kidding).
My friend described the area as a very tame Red Light district, “one you could bring your Grandma to” he told me (no wild ideas grandma!). And though it was packed with adult entertainment, it was surprisingly clean and inviting, not scummy at all. Anyways, the cabby dropped us off somewhere in the area where we then found our way to the World Bar to see what was in store.
After the guy at the gate checked our ID’s we were let into a packed club spread out over three levels (actually the top level was closed, but three sounds more impressive). Now I’m not a big club guy, nor do I go bar hopping, but you could tell this was the happening place, especially for a Tuesday night. But again, I’m not big into clubbing, and managed to have a couple drinks, talk to a couple of Swedish girls, and spend the rest of my time worrying about the escalating risk of permanent hearing loss…sorry, I kind of need my ears. It was a good vibe though so I enjoyed myself, but we left within an hour in search of a better scene.
This is where the night got weird. It started with us all getting in two cabs again, and telling our driver to take us to a bar back down town. I should have been tipped off that things were going to go downhill when I saw my cabby wearing a white hardhat with “kick me” written all over it in sharpie marker. He was an interesting guy though, older German dude from what I could gather, who I think was more interested in finding a party for himself than for us. He took us where we requested, only to find that it was past admittance hours, wherein he suggested we go to a bar of his choosing, another $10 back to where we came from at Potts Point. His bar was empty, and with the group still not satisfied, he took us somewhere else, and yet another dive. My friends in the cab with me had him talked into not charging us for the cab rides by means of buying him drinks at whatever bar he finds us. However, after three failed attempts, two of my friends (the more responsible ones) decided they had had enough and broke off from the group, and staring at either going with my responsible friends or the crazy ones with the head-geared-cabby we named George, I took the more conservative route and left the cabby.
From here we split, My friends and I found some food from one of the many joints set up along the street, ran into another group of Swedish girls (go figure), and caught a cab back to the ship, returning us at about 4 am. I concluded the night in a buddy’s room playing Mario cart for Wii, maybe not the most exciting ending, but a far better result than ending up who knows where with a crack-pot cabby with two guys that couldn’t see straight.
The next day was completely off so I left the ship when I managed to wake up (around 1:30) and tried to get some internet time in. I only had till 5 when we were scheduled to leave with the next charter so I was kind of pressed for time. My other goal for the day was to find a decent Didgeridoo shop to check out seeing as my interest had sparked the interest of two friends of mine, both of whom I’d love to see playing the didge. I figured I’d ask the aborigine playing didge on the pier where I could find a shop, a good idea, and he directed me back towards the ship to a small souvenir shop with a good deal of didges in the window. Sydney is packed with souvenir shops, all o which have didgeridoos in the windows and this place looked no different, but when a guy in a loin cloth and body paint tells you to check something out, you do it.
I walked in the shop, grabbed a few didges, was fairly surprised at the quality, and spent the next 90 minutes talking to the retailer about his horns. Let me also add that the owner was quite impressed with my playing and almost fell over when I told him I’d been playing for just over 2 weeks. But I was running out of time and told the guy I’d be back the next day with some friends to check out the didges again. I left, hopped on the ship and waited for the second charter to finish so I could get back to the didge store.
And that’s it for the day…keep reading for the continuation of this nail biter (yeah, maybe not quite, but thanks for hanging in there).
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