Feb 18-19
Sea Days
Days 1 and 2 out of five. Nothing too special to report home about. The other sax player came out of quarantine only to say he was never sick, just sea sick. I’ve been trying to get some decent practicing in on this ship, which would be a nice change from my other ship habits. But this ship doesn’t let me get online as easily (by easily, I mean I can’t find a way to beat the system and make internet usage free), so I’m trying to get some quality work done on my horn that I can’t otherwise accomplish at home. The shows have been the usual. The production shows seem like boiled down versions of the RCCL shows, but the show I played on the 19th at least allowed me to see what was going on and make my usual outbursts, which are still being found as humorous. But that aside, we’re still in code red and can’t go into passenger areas for our meals, and nothing more has happened. We’ve had some decently rough seas though, and with this being a smaller ship, the movement is felt that much more; Nothing too bad and I still have yet to get seasick on one of these ships! But I still have 3 days across the Atlantic to deal with, so let’s hope for the best and I’ll be writing again from the other side. Thanks!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Madeira
Feb 17
Madeira
Today was another return to an old favorite port, one problem though…massive amounts of rain. That being said, I had a rehearsal at 11, meaning I missed a large part of the rain, which then starting to hold off as soon as the band got off the ship, but it still didn’t make for the sun-shiny island weather I was hoping for. I had nothing planned and decided to go out with the band to a restaurant they frequent for a decent meal before we left for a 5 day crossing.
The restaurant was small, but really classy considering it’s hole-in-the-wall appearance from the street. They brought over a huge platter of fish for today’s special, and after having decided on the way there to go for a steak, the red snapper that was presented on this platter looked too fresh to pass. Why get a steak that I could get anywhere when I have a shot at a really good, really fresh fish? The only problem is that anyone who knows my eating habits knows that I don’t like fish, and that I say I only like “good fish”. I was hoping this snapper was going to cross that line and land in the “good fish” category (and for 18 euro, it better be good). Meanwhile my friend ordered one of the other special fish, a parrot fish, something I’ve never seen served in a restaurant before (though I’ve seen them many times diving).
The service was a little slow for such a tiny restaurant, but I was with the band and it was a good hang. The music director ordered an appetizer of sardines, which were the biggest sardines I’ve ever seen in my life. When my fish eventually came, it came as one side of the fish, head to tail, which makes me wonder what they did with the other half when the place was too small to have a huge demand for Snapper halves. Regardless, I did enjoy my fish, maybe not 18 euro worth, but still a good fish experience which are few and far between. Apparently I didn’t know how to eat it though, and when the waiter came over to take my plate, he pointed out a small little packet of meat that resided on the fish’s cheek/eye area, supposedly the “best part”, that I had forgotten and was required to eat before he cleared my plate. Was it the best? I didn’t notice a difference, but I did find the eye ball which I decide to eat out of curiosity and it’s neighboring status to the “best part”, which ended up being slightly crunchy and salty.
Following the meal, we went to a grocery store to pick up supplies for our approaching sea days before parting ways to head back to the ship on our own time. The rest of my day was spent trying to find free internet, which didn’t quite pan out as planned. McDonalds supposedly had it, which turned out not to be true, and I couldn’t get the local system to work by the time the rain started up again and I was forced back onto the bus.
My one disappointment for Madeira was that I couldn’t find my name painted on the dock. Maybe you remember, but way back in 2007 when I was visiting here with the Navigator, I had my name painted on the dock along with two of my friends. I couldn’t find it today! Maybe I just didn’t look hard enough because of the rain, and I couldn’t remember off the top of my head exactly where I should have been looking, but it’ll be worth further investigation when I come back here in 6 weeks. I pulled up my old pictures, so I know exactly what I’m looking for.
The show that night was for a classical violinist performing the usual repertoire. My sax player was still out, which meant that I got stuck covering two parts. The other thing my devoted blog readers might remember is that I don’t have a good relationship with my clarinet. This guest performer didn’t care and wanted me to stand up before a song and perform an un-accompanied clarinet cadenza. Luckily, I could improvise a cadenza within my abilities and still make it sound good, but the whole act of me playing totally solo for a minute worth of cadenza isn’t quite my within my clarinet comfort zone. But everything went well, the band thought I played great, and there weren’t any other scares for that show.
And now it’s off for 5 straight days at sea, can’t wait!
Madeira
Today was another return to an old favorite port, one problem though…massive amounts of rain. That being said, I had a rehearsal at 11, meaning I missed a large part of the rain, which then starting to hold off as soon as the band got off the ship, but it still didn’t make for the sun-shiny island weather I was hoping for. I had nothing planned and decided to go out with the band to a restaurant they frequent for a decent meal before we left for a 5 day crossing.
The restaurant was small, but really classy considering it’s hole-in-the-wall appearance from the street. They brought over a huge platter of fish for today’s special, and after having decided on the way there to go for a steak, the red snapper that was presented on this platter looked too fresh to pass. Why get a steak that I could get anywhere when I have a shot at a really good, really fresh fish? The only problem is that anyone who knows my eating habits knows that I don’t like fish, and that I say I only like “good fish”. I was hoping this snapper was going to cross that line and land in the “good fish” category (and for 18 euro, it better be good). Meanwhile my friend ordered one of the other special fish, a parrot fish, something I’ve never seen served in a restaurant before (though I’ve seen them many times diving).
The service was a little slow for such a tiny restaurant, but I was with the band and it was a good hang. The music director ordered an appetizer of sardines, which were the biggest sardines I’ve ever seen in my life. When my fish eventually came, it came as one side of the fish, head to tail, which makes me wonder what they did with the other half when the place was too small to have a huge demand for Snapper halves. Regardless, I did enjoy my fish, maybe not 18 euro worth, but still a good fish experience which are few and far between. Apparently I didn’t know how to eat it though, and when the waiter came over to take my plate, he pointed out a small little packet of meat that resided on the fish’s cheek/eye area, supposedly the “best part”, that I had forgotten and was required to eat before he cleared my plate. Was it the best? I didn’t notice a difference, but I did find the eye ball which I decide to eat out of curiosity and it’s neighboring status to the “best part”, which ended up being slightly crunchy and salty.
Following the meal, we went to a grocery store to pick up supplies for our approaching sea days before parting ways to head back to the ship on our own time. The rest of my day was spent trying to find free internet, which didn’t quite pan out as planned. McDonalds supposedly had it, which turned out not to be true, and I couldn’t get the local system to work by the time the rain started up again and I was forced back onto the bus.
My one disappointment for Madeira was that I couldn’t find my name painted on the dock. Maybe you remember, but way back in 2007 when I was visiting here with the Navigator, I had my name painted on the dock along with two of my friends. I couldn’t find it today! Maybe I just didn’t look hard enough because of the rain, and I couldn’t remember off the top of my head exactly where I should have been looking, but it’ll be worth further investigation when I come back here in 6 weeks. I pulled up my old pictures, so I know exactly what I’m looking for.
The show that night was for a classical violinist performing the usual repertoire. My sax player was still out, which meant that I got stuck covering two parts. The other thing my devoted blog readers might remember is that I don’t have a good relationship with my clarinet. This guest performer didn’t care and wanted me to stand up before a song and perform an un-accompanied clarinet cadenza. Luckily, I could improvise a cadenza within my abilities and still make it sound good, but the whole act of me playing totally solo for a minute worth of cadenza isn’t quite my within my clarinet comfort zone. But everything went well, the band thought I played great, and there weren’t any other scares for that show.
And now it’s off for 5 straight days at sea, can’t wait!
Vigo/Sea Day
Feb 15-16
Vigo/Sea Day
I’ve been excited to stop at Vigo since finding out about this ship, because as some of your readers might remember, I have a friend in Vigo that I meet up with when I’m in town, and today was no exception. I had to stay on the ship all morning for In Port Manning (that safety policy where a certain number of crew have to be on the ship at all times), but then met up with Anna around 1:30. We decided to go for lunch at a traditional Spanish tapas restaurant that she was familiar with. We ended up ordering and cheese and sausage plate, all unique to Spain, croquettes (fried up “white sauce” balls with small pieces of ham), a Spanish tortilla (like an omelet with potatoes), a green been/ham dish, and calamari. Everything was absolutely great and reminded me why I like getting the inside story from the locals, she knew just where to go and what to order.
We spent over 2 hours there, which unfortunately left me with no time for anything else before heading back to the ship. I made a quick stop at a supermarket, but otherwise I went straight back to the ship where I was the last crew member to return.
But it was nice to see Anna again, especially when I wasn’t exactly sure that I’d ever be back to Vigo. The part that’s always funny with her is that she notices everything that makes me American. We never know how to greet each other, because me being American, I’m inclined to give her a hug, which in Spain is something reserved for close family members or boy/girlfriends. She always wants to give me the traditional cheek kiss, of which I still have no idea of what rules apply. So the hello was awkward, goodbye as well, but it’s always great to see her, listen to the Spanish language (which sounds much better than Mexican Spanish), and pretend like I’m a local.
Back at the ship I had a guest entertainer to play for, nothing worth writing about.
And as for the next sea day, everything was pretty standard. The only news though is that we had a break out of Norovirus (or I think that’s how they say/spell it). It does happen on ships and we’re prepared for it, it just means that I can’t go everywhere and do everything I’d otherwise like to do. They try to keep the chance of spreading the virus as small as possible by quarantining people to certain areas, like keeping the crew in the crew areas.
The other sax player however got seasick on the 16th right when they were announcing the outbreak. By regulation, we’re required to send him to the nurse, who has since quarantined him to a separate room for 48 hours, of which he can’t leave and has no contact with any one. He was only seasick and was better that afternoon, but the ship can’t realize that, so I get to cover his parts and compensate for the smaller horn section while he sits in a room all day feeling totally fine.
The show that night was a production show, of which I didn’t like as much as my other ships. The band isn’t incorporated into the shows here as much as they were on RCCL, which doesn’t make my job all that exciting. Instead, we were hidden behind scenery where no one could see us. I still made my usual outbursts to bring some energy to the show, which my band continues to give me a hard time about (in a good way), but it’s just not the same level of entertainment as RCCL, but at least I enjoy the people in the band.
And that’s all for now, tomorrow is Madeira and then a string of 5 sea days while I cross the Atlantic. Thanks for reading!
Vigo/Sea Day
I’ve been excited to stop at Vigo since finding out about this ship, because as some of your readers might remember, I have a friend in Vigo that I meet up with when I’m in town, and today was no exception. I had to stay on the ship all morning for In Port Manning (that safety policy where a certain number of crew have to be on the ship at all times), but then met up with Anna around 1:30. We decided to go for lunch at a traditional Spanish tapas restaurant that she was familiar with. We ended up ordering and cheese and sausage plate, all unique to Spain, croquettes (fried up “white sauce” balls with small pieces of ham), a Spanish tortilla (like an omelet with potatoes), a green been/ham dish, and calamari. Everything was absolutely great and reminded me why I like getting the inside story from the locals, she knew just where to go and what to order.
We spent over 2 hours there, which unfortunately left me with no time for anything else before heading back to the ship. I made a quick stop at a supermarket, but otherwise I went straight back to the ship where I was the last crew member to return.
But it was nice to see Anna again, especially when I wasn’t exactly sure that I’d ever be back to Vigo. The part that’s always funny with her is that she notices everything that makes me American. We never know how to greet each other, because me being American, I’m inclined to give her a hug, which in Spain is something reserved for close family members or boy/girlfriends. She always wants to give me the traditional cheek kiss, of which I still have no idea of what rules apply. So the hello was awkward, goodbye as well, but it’s always great to see her, listen to the Spanish language (which sounds much better than Mexican Spanish), and pretend like I’m a local.
Back at the ship I had a guest entertainer to play for, nothing worth writing about.
And as for the next sea day, everything was pretty standard. The only news though is that we had a break out of Norovirus (or I think that’s how they say/spell it). It does happen on ships and we’re prepared for it, it just means that I can’t go everywhere and do everything I’d otherwise like to do. They try to keep the chance of spreading the virus as small as possible by quarantining people to certain areas, like keeping the crew in the crew areas.
The other sax player however got seasick on the 16th right when they were announcing the outbreak. By regulation, we’re required to send him to the nurse, who has since quarantined him to a separate room for 48 hours, of which he can’t leave and has no contact with any one. He was only seasick and was better that afternoon, but the ship can’t realize that, so I get to cover his parts and compensate for the smaller horn section while he sits in a room all day feeling totally fine.
The show that night was a production show, of which I didn’t like as much as my other ships. The band isn’t incorporated into the shows here as much as they were on RCCL, which doesn’t make my job all that exciting. Instead, we were hidden behind scenery where no one could see us. I still made my usual outbursts to bring some energy to the show, which my band continues to give me a hard time about (in a good way), but it’s just not the same level of entertainment as RCCL, but at least I enjoy the people in the band.
And that’s all for now, tomorrow is Madeira and then a string of 5 sea days while I cross the Atlantic. Thanks for reading!
Chicago to Southampton
Feb 11-14
Chicago to Southampton
As of about 2 weeks prior to the 11th, I had no idea I’d be starting up the blog again, but I received a phone call from an agent offering me a contract that I didn’t want to pass up. I’d be working for P&O (an English cruise line), be committed to just a 2 month contract, get to go to the southern Caribbean, and get paid more. And with this being a slower season at home, the opportunity couldn’t work out better.
So I flew out on the 11th with British Airways direct to London Heathrow. The flight was usual, aside from everyone having a British accent. I was able to watch the new X-Men movie until my movie screen froze up on me and prevented me from watching anything else for the final 5 hours of the flight.
I was greeted at the airport by a sharply dressed man who held a sign with my name on it, as if I was someone extremely important. He took me to his new Audi A6, and let me know (in a very thick accent) that I was his only pickup. I was feeling pretty special having my own private driver with a British accent…special till I tried to get in the car on the American passenger side, only to confuse the guy when he saw me heading straight for the English driver’s side.
He drove me to the hotel and we had an interesting conversation about something I no longer remember, I just remember thinking that the driver looked young when he said he had kids my age. When I got my keys and entered my room, my roommate was already there. John was from the St. Louis area and was the other sax player signing onto the ship with me. Turns out that he’s a retired band teacher, and actually reminds me of my own highschool band director, but I thought it was kind of cool for someone to retire from teaching and go on a ship, of which he’s done multiple. He was trying to rest though, so I left the room to go find a decent lunch in Southampton, and was pointed by the hotel receptionist towards a place called “The Slug and Lettuce”, which turned out to be considerably upscale considering the creature it’s named after. And after eating way too much humus and BBQ chicken sandwich (not at the same time), I went to the mall to blow time at the Apple store before returning to the hotel to collapse. I woke up briefly for dinner, cleaned my horns, and went back to sleep for the rest of the day.
The 13th was my first day on the P&O Oriana. It was a usual first day filled with training, briefing, rehearsal, and meeting more people than one should be expected to remember. But it doesn’t take long to get a feel for a ship and how it’s different from what you’re used to.
First, the nice thing about this ship is that I can eat in passenger areas as long as I’m dressed somewhat nicely, something that would never fly on Royal Caribbean. The band also seems great. Unlike my other ships, this band all signs on and off together, so aside for me and the other sax player, the entire band has been playing together for a couple contracts. The musical director is also great, super laid back, and unusually normal for an MD.
The drawbacks though are in the vibe, where in the English company makes everything seem a little stuffy. And even though I have deck privileges, the musicians are put on a similar level to the rest of the crew and aren’t allowed in officer areas, which I usually would be able to get into on RCCL. The dancers however receive that privilege, which makes for a really strange disconnect between the dancers and the musicians that play their shows. When the most outgoing guy in the band doesn’t know all the dancer’s names, I get concerned. However, I do know one of the singers from when I was on the Queen Victoria, so that’s a nice surprise. This ship also has “In Port Manning”, meaning I have to stay on the ship at certain times while I’m in port as a safety precaution, which is when I’m writing this blog.
The first show was a welcome aboard show where I quickly established the fact that I like to cheer on the dancers with arguably unnecessary hoots and hollers. The band thought it was hilarious, started joining in, and a couple people came up and introduced themselves to the unusually vocal saxophonist. So at least I’m getting a decent vibe there, which will make the shows a lot more fun for everyone.
And finally the 14th was just a sea day. I spent it figuring out how to go online, doing some further ship explorations, and a little practicing. There was a Valentines Day party that evening that I went to, but in true English stuffiness, it was the worst attended party I’ve seen and I left fairly early. And that brings my to my first port of call for tomorrow, Vigo Spain!
Chicago to Southampton
As of about 2 weeks prior to the 11th, I had no idea I’d be starting up the blog again, but I received a phone call from an agent offering me a contract that I didn’t want to pass up. I’d be working for P&O (an English cruise line), be committed to just a 2 month contract, get to go to the southern Caribbean, and get paid more. And with this being a slower season at home, the opportunity couldn’t work out better.
So I flew out on the 11th with British Airways direct to London Heathrow. The flight was usual, aside from everyone having a British accent. I was able to watch the new X-Men movie until my movie screen froze up on me and prevented me from watching anything else for the final 5 hours of the flight.
I was greeted at the airport by a sharply dressed man who held a sign with my name on it, as if I was someone extremely important. He took me to his new Audi A6, and let me know (in a very thick accent) that I was his only pickup. I was feeling pretty special having my own private driver with a British accent…special till I tried to get in the car on the American passenger side, only to confuse the guy when he saw me heading straight for the English driver’s side.
He drove me to the hotel and we had an interesting conversation about something I no longer remember, I just remember thinking that the driver looked young when he said he had kids my age. When I got my keys and entered my room, my roommate was already there. John was from the St. Louis area and was the other sax player signing onto the ship with me. Turns out that he’s a retired band teacher, and actually reminds me of my own highschool band director, but I thought it was kind of cool for someone to retire from teaching and go on a ship, of which he’s done multiple. He was trying to rest though, so I left the room to go find a decent lunch in Southampton, and was pointed by the hotel receptionist towards a place called “The Slug and Lettuce”, which turned out to be considerably upscale considering the creature it’s named after. And after eating way too much humus and BBQ chicken sandwich (not at the same time), I went to the mall to blow time at the Apple store before returning to the hotel to collapse. I woke up briefly for dinner, cleaned my horns, and went back to sleep for the rest of the day.
The 13th was my first day on the P&O Oriana. It was a usual first day filled with training, briefing, rehearsal, and meeting more people than one should be expected to remember. But it doesn’t take long to get a feel for a ship and how it’s different from what you’re used to.
First, the nice thing about this ship is that I can eat in passenger areas as long as I’m dressed somewhat nicely, something that would never fly on Royal Caribbean. The band also seems great. Unlike my other ships, this band all signs on and off together, so aside for me and the other sax player, the entire band has been playing together for a couple contracts. The musical director is also great, super laid back, and unusually normal for an MD.
The drawbacks though are in the vibe, where in the English company makes everything seem a little stuffy. And even though I have deck privileges, the musicians are put on a similar level to the rest of the crew and aren’t allowed in officer areas, which I usually would be able to get into on RCCL. The dancers however receive that privilege, which makes for a really strange disconnect between the dancers and the musicians that play their shows. When the most outgoing guy in the band doesn’t know all the dancer’s names, I get concerned. However, I do know one of the singers from when I was on the Queen Victoria, so that’s a nice surprise. This ship also has “In Port Manning”, meaning I have to stay on the ship at certain times while I’m in port as a safety precaution, which is when I’m writing this blog.
The first show was a welcome aboard show where I quickly established the fact that I like to cheer on the dancers with arguably unnecessary hoots and hollers. The band thought it was hilarious, started joining in, and a couple people came up and introduced themselves to the unusually vocal saxophonist. So at least I’m getting a decent vibe there, which will make the shows a lot more fun for everyone.
And finally the 14th was just a sea day. I spent it figuring out how to go online, doing some further ship explorations, and a little practicing. There was a Valentines Day party that evening that I went to, but in true English stuffiness, it was the worst attended party I’ve seen and I left fairly early. And that brings my to my first port of call for tomorrow, Vigo Spain!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Rarotonga, At Sea
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!
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!
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!
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