Day 52, 53, & 54~ Rounding the Arabian Peninsula

Today, you get three days for the price of one because it took me so long to organize my thoughts and write about Dubai and Abu Dhabi.

March 15^th

Beware the Ides of March, they say. When the ship’s horn sounded for our first pirate drill, I wondered if there was something to the saying. We are entering what they call a “high risk” area, skirting the coast of Oman on our way to the Gulf of Aden and the Horn of Africa. But truthfully, there hasn’t been an incidence of piracy in these waters for years. (I’m thinking the many British and Indian patrol boats plying these waters might have something to do with that!)

The promenade deck on Deck 5 has been closed and security measures in the form of water cannons and other things we aren’t supposed to know about are been taken. A Pirate Drill mostly means we need to return to our stateroom when the ship’s horn sounds, make sure the balcony door is locked, shut the drapes, and sit or lie down on the floor in case the Pacific Princess has to make any sudden evasive maneuvers. 

But Captain Slight, seen in the pic above welcoming Peter, the new cruise director, assures us that no vessel exceeding 15 knots per hour has ever been overtaken by pirates. The Pacific Princess is boogying along at 18!

During our leisurely, rather late lunch, I couldn’t resist photographing these waiters getting ready for the next meal. The tablecloths have all been ironed, but they always spray down the linens to smooth out the last wrinkle before dressing each table with fresh flower. The bridge crew keeps us safe and the wait  staff in the Main Dining Room and Panorama Buffet keep us feeling spoiled rotten.

I promised to share the 5 pillars of Islam as soon as I learned them and what do you know? Our new enrichment lecturer, anthropologist Dr. Pamela Peck, provided them for me during her talk on 19^th century Omani traders. They sailed to the Horn of Africa, taking control of the entire area down as far as Dar a Salaam. They began drawing out ivory from the interior of Africa and, and sorry to have to tell you, slaves. The name of the coastal town Bagamoyo means “Lay down your heart.”

It’s enough to make angels weep and I did, too. Why can’t we look at each other and see the image of God stamped on every face? If we did, maybe we wouldn’t be so heartless.   

Tonight is another formal night. We’ll have 3 on this segment of the world cruise. 

Our friends Kristi and Dave are smiling through their pain. I’m sorry to tell you that they have lost their unborn grandchild, but they are very appreciative of your prayers. Please continue to remember the family as they go through this difficult time.

Just like the DH donned a dhothie when we were in India, Candy and Greg from Milwaukie, Oregon are enjoying the Arabian Nights in their fancy dress! They both sing in the Harmony Choir with us, Candy a soprano and Greg a tenor. For the last passenger talent show they pulled together a quartet and sang hysterical spoof hymn called “Immoral, Impossible, God Only Knows.” The lyrics ponder why the choir that shows up on Sunday morning bears little resemblance to the one that showed up for Wednesday night practice. We snagged a copy of the music for our choir director back home.

March 16th

Sunset off Oman with Venus, the Evening Star

We are cruising southwest about 20 miles off the coast of Oman, coming up on the border that country shares with Yemen. Once we cross that line, we’ll move to about 95 miles away from land. There is still a war going on between the Yemenis and the Saudis and Emiratis, after all. We don’t want to get in the middle of that.

He's gliding in the ship's shadowso he doesn't even look real, does he?

This seabird was hunting right outside our balcony. At one point he flew close enough that I could have reached out and grabbed him (if I’d been fast enough!)  The DH watched him dive into the water below looking for his breakfast. 

We passed a lazy day—port talk, enrichment lecture, trivia, choir, nap—and managed to see Venus and Mercury rising before we went down to supper. (Venus is the brightest star. Mercury is much fainter and can be found at about 1 o’clock in relation to Venus). There seems to be a haze on the horizon at both sunrise and set. I think it must be sand from the Empty Quarter of the Arabian Peninsula.

That's Kadek, our junior waitor, photo-bombing Emily and David

As you know we lost Kathie and Vaughan, our delightful Aussies, at Table 60 when they disembarked in Dubai. But we have some new table mates—Emily and David. They live in Canada now, but she’s Irish and he’s English. They met in Africa, studying in Uganda and then teaching in Kenya. When Emily told her family she was getting married, her mother left Ireland and flew down to Kenya to meet her intended. After her mother returned home, the family had questions:

“Is she marrying an African?”

“It’s worse,” her mother said. “He’s English.”

 Before we went to bed, we sneaked out to our balcony to look at the stars. I say sneaked because we’re running without lights on the balconies now that we’re in pirate waters. Our bridge crew is ever vigilant and we’re not a bit afraid. And having no lights means the stars are much brighter. Just before we turned in, a shooting star streaked across the sky.

Arabia was saying goodnight.

March 17th

We’re in the Gulf of Aden now—Yemen off the starboard side (where our cabin is located) and Somalia to port. Djibouti is dead ahead. We’ll turn north there and enter the Red Sea. Tomorrow, I think. Point of interest: Our enrichment lecturer told us that Yemen, along with Eritrea and parts of Ethiopia, made up the ancient kingdom of Sheba.    

The sea continues to be calm and I haven’t needed to put on another scopolamine patch since Esperance, Australia, not quite a month ago.

Today would have been my dear Uncle Rick’s 70^th birthday. We lost him a few years ago and a St. Patrick’s Day never passes without me remembering and missing him. He was an excellent journalist who was the editor of the Des Moines Register, and then the Washington Post, ending his career as a professor at Drake University. I think of him often when I’m writing my books. Especially when I’m self-editing, I almost hear his voice admonishing me not to use six words when three will do.

The Pacific Princess always goes all out for holidays.

When I got to Table 60, Raj didn't think my dress was green enough so he draped a bright green necklace of shamrocks around my neck!

After supper, we usually sit around Table 60 laughing and talking, but tonight David had a surprise for Emily. Since she’s Irish and he has a fine tenor voice, he sang a modified version of When Irish Eyes are Smiling to her, changing it to Emily’s eyes. And then he asked the DH and I to sing the regular words with him. Conversations died out around the dining room as we were singing and we got a great ovation afterward. Several people came over later and thanked us all for the song.

For a couple of years before my NSIP was diagnosed, I was coughing constantly and couldn’t sing a note. Looking back, I suspect I suffered from a spot of depression over it, but now with the right mix of meds, the condition is stable and I’m not coughing nearly as much. I feel more like myself again.

I always feel more alive, more vibrant and connected when I sing. It was a lovely way to end the day.