Bay of Islands in Photos

 Bay of Islands, The Winterless North

When you live in the northern hemisphere, north means cold. South of the equator, the northern part of land masses are warmer than southern. So beautiful Bay of Islands doesn't have to worry about snowfall.

Here's the DH's photo montage of our visit:

Crew contract on Viking run 6 months on, 2 months off. They work 10 days, 7 days a week, yet they are unfailingly cheerful and fascinating to talk to. This is Tabeth, our excellent senior server at The Restaurant. She is leaving us in Auckland to return to her home and family in Zimbabwe.

Godspeed, Tabeth. You made every meal an event for us! Thank you.

Waitangi--Bay of Islands

 "Haere Mai" ~ "Welcome" in the Maori tongue

January 28, 2025

If we look happy, it's because we are! Today is the first day in a long time that we don't have matching high 90's temperatures and humidity. Here on our initial New Zealand stop, we're expecting a high of only 73 degrees and negligible humidity. Lovely exploring weather!

Bay of Islands, where the Sky dropped her anchor this morning, is dotted with 140 islands, islets, and rocks that have permanently poked their heads above water. In 1769, Captain James Cook charted both the nothern and southern islands of New Zealand and gave Bay of Islands its name. 

We had to ride a tender in to the pier to catch our excursion bus, and in an abundance of caution, we went early. The nearby little town of Paihai runs a shuttle bus to their business district every twenty minuts, so we hopped on and went in search of cough drops. I still have plenty, but it's always good to keep up our stock of consumables. Unfortunately, the girl who helped me look in the pharmacy said she'd never heard of sugar free cough drops, which I need to use. Oh, well... I'll check again in Sydney. 

 

The DH loves waterfalls, so we were delighted when our first stop was at Rainbow Falls. It is aptly named because on this sunny day, the DH was able to snap a photo of the bow near the base of the falls. To reach the falls, we enjoyed a leisurely walk through a forest that was alive with bird calls and redolent with the sweet breath of flowers and green growing things. I'm sure the DH will include his rainbow shot in the photo montage he's working on. 

Built in 1822, the Stone Store, shown to the left of the white clapboard Mission House, is the oldest structure in New Zealand. The picturesque river rollicking in the foreground is very unique, above the row of rocks that bridge the stream, the water is sweet. Below the rocks, the water is brackish because the river feeds into the sea and tide reaches its salty fingers inland. 

I find New Zealand very similar to our Ozarks as far as topography goes. We too have green rolling hills, are surrounded by deep forest and have sparkling clean spring-fed streams. The difference is the type of flora and fauna. I have yet to recognize tree species and many of the flowers in New Zealand.

Our last stop was at Kawakawa, an unabashedly touristy town whose claim to fame is this public toilet designed by Austrian artist, Friedensreich Hundertwasser. He avoids straight lines at all cost which leads to undulating walls and floors. I defy anyone to locate a 90 degree angle in the place. 

Not sure what I think about it. I wish Kawakawa would invest in a custodian to keep the place cleaner. But if you've ever wanted to relieve yourself in the middle of a modern art installation, this is your chance! 

More soon...

Rarotonga Thru The DH's eyes

 I have traveled a fair amount, and I have visited some great cities. I love architecture and museums and castles and ruins and central markets and even double-decker bus tours. But, I am a sucker for a tropical beach.~ Chelsea Cain

One of the things that allures me to the South Pacific is the concept of "island time." We have an approximation of it in the Ozarks. Being punctual for anything is the exception rather than the norm. But in these islands, the "timelessness" of life is on steroids. If it doesn't get done today, tomorrow is coming. 

There's no need to hurry. Nothing is so urgent that you can't slow down and enjoy the moment.

 

I feel my blood pressure lowering just thinking of the blossom-soaked air and light breeze on these islands...

Unless of course the tide is out. Then it's tainted by sad trapped sea creatures who didn't quite make it back to the open ocean. One of the photos in this montage is of a wild dog chasing fish in the shallows. We did enjoy watching the dog pounce and splash around until it caught its lunch. 

Sadly, that dog may be someone else's lunch eventually. I remember our guide on Bora Bora in 2016 asking us not to hate him, but sometimes, he just got hungry for dog. He was quick to say that the feral dogs that run wild in the South Pacific are no one's pets, so it's not like eating my Charlie or Albert (though truth to tell, at 5 pounds, Albert wouldn't make a mouthful!) 

I still think dogs are what Hugh Ross, a noted astrophysisist, calls "soul-ish" animals. They feel. They think. They dream. 

And I'm so thankful never to have been hungry enough to eat one.  

Rarotonga, Cook Islands

 Jan 22, 2025

"Kia orana" ~ Means "May you have long life."

Rarotonga is the first "new-to-us" port on our itinerary. We were supposed to visit it in 2016 on our 30 day HAL cruise, but the ocean was too rough for tender service. We had to settle for "scenic cruising" around the entire island, but weren't allowed to set foot on this little patch of English protectorate, the largest of the Cook Islands. Our previous islands have been decidedly French, but for a bit going forward, all our stops will have a British past.

You can tell the Brits have been here. Everyone drives on the left, and we saw at least one "roundabout." (We call them traffic circles in the States.) English is spoken as well as the Maori  tongue. 

Like all the islands we've visited since leaving Hawaii, the geography is strikingly similar. The interior is ruggedly mountainous and any roads cut through the dense undergrowth are not generally traversable by less than a four X four filled with stout hearted folk! Most people use the coastal road that rings the island to get from one place to another. There is a flat plain of arable land where most people choose to live. 

And where they bury their dead.

Homes tend to remain within families because it's likely that grandma and grandpa are entombed in cement vaults in the front yard. There's not enough topsoil to allow anything other than above ground burial. 

Tender service to the island was an adventure. The waves heaved with a three to four foot swing between the Sky and the tender boat. Fortunately four able crewmen were on hand to tell us when to step and to steady us as we made the transfer. Still, I was thankful for a fresh scopolamine patch while we rocked and rolled!

Our excursion took us to a little museum where we were treated to the most thorough explanation of how the ancient seafarers migrated from Asia and Africa. They didn't just row the double hulled canoes. They had twin sails which they used to sail tacking against the prevailing wind and current. That way, if they traveled far enough without sighting land, they could turn around and be fairly assured of being able to make it home with the aid of those natural propulsion devises. They made use of studying the apparent location of our nearest star--the sun--to navigate, along with studying cloud formations (which tend to pile up over land masses) and of course sighting seabirds.

The museum lecturer also posited much lower ocean levels in the ancient past, which allowed for land bridges from Asia to Australia and some of the nearer islands. 

This double hull canoe was highly ornamented with carved sides. While possessed of lovely lines, it certainly showed the ancient Polynesians had to travel light!

In 2016, our Polynesian Cultural guide told us that a muumuu was like a bank. A man knows what's in it. He's just not sure how much.  

Our tour included some beach time, so I'd dressed in a muumuu over my swim suit. Unfortunately, the tide was out, making this beach unsuitable for swimming or wading. And more than a little odiferous. Heavy sigh...

So we headed back to the lovely Sky and spent some time in the spa. 

Are we spoiled rotten or what?   

      

The Body Remembers...

 Jan. 21, 2025

"It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve." MyGriefAssist.com.au

I woke feeling very low on the 21st. I was listless. Unmotivated. My back ached and my throat felt tight. I didn't even feel like going to passenger choir. 

I suspected it was because the anniversary of my dad's death was looming. He died a year ago on January 22nd. But on the 21st, we knew he was "transitioning," as his hospice nurse told us. There was nothing more we could do. The tumor that would steal him from us was running its course, as inexorably as a boulder rolling down the side of a mountain.   

We could only keep vigil at his bedside, holding his hand, speaking our love to him though he was unable to respond, trying to sing songs he loved, reciting the 23rd psalm that he'd been repeating over the previous weeks as he struggled to put on his socks. Into the dark hours just after midnight, I waited and watched in helpless sorrow as the first man I ever loved slipped away. He taught me so much. The last lesson was how to die.

We were all entirely spent. Drained to the last dregs. 

As if my body remembered, it was that same feeling that held me fast this year on the 21st. My DH and Dad had become very close, so he understood how I felt. So we declared a day in. After lunch, we retreated to our cabin and watched a movie that had captivated Dad's imagination--The Life of Pi. It's a quixotic tale of action and adventure with spiritual overtones. It's beautifully shot and I enjoyed  seeing it again, remembering how it pleased Dad so that I'd watched it with him. There's no romance, so Mom was not a fan, but Dad enjoyed stories that made him think. 

He also loved sci-fi, so while we ate our room service supper (excellent, BTW) we watched The Martian, another favorite of Dad's.  He loved stories that rewarded hard work and determination, traits he exhibited all his life.

By the time we turned out the lights, my spirit had lifted. I reminded myself that Dad was on the greatest adventure of his life. He is with his Savior and if ever he remembers his life here with us, it must seem like a dream. We feel the separation, but he doesn't. I told him in his final days that he will look over his shoulder and there we'll be, right behind him.

On the 22nd, we visit Rarotonga, our first new-to-us port on this itinerary. So I'll be sharing our doings for that day soon. 

  

Tahitian Photo Montage

 Jan 21, 2025

The DH has put together a short collection of photos from our 2 visits to Tahiti. We really only expected to see it once on this trip, so the extra day was a gift! 

 

Yes, this part of the world really is just this gorgeous! 

More soon...

Tahiti Redux

 Jan. 20, 2025

Our return to Tahiti gave us a chance to explore Pape’ete, the capital city of French Polynesia. Pape’ete means “bowl of water”—a precious thing to seafaring people. There are 180,000 residents on the island now. When British Captain Cook arrived on the island in 1769, he estimated there were over 200,000 on the island of Tahiti alone.

Our guide, Erik the Viking (His favorite way of describing himself) led us through the congested streets to the royal palace. There is no royal family now but the lovely building is available for weddings. Our next stop was the market place. The lower level was filled with fishmongers, fruit and vegetable sellers, pearl merchants, and flower stalls. I didn’t go upstairs to the “knickknacks and scarcities” section because I don’t collect anything and I feel bad looking at handicrafts and not buying something.

Then we walked to the big Catholic church in the center of town. Polynesians were animists with a dash of ancestor worship prior to the coming of missionaries. English missionary Henry Nott had to learn the language, devise an alphabet for it, translate the scriptures into the new written language and then teach the Tahitians how to read. This happened around 1840. Now about 95% of Polynesians identify themselves as Christians. 

Talk about successful evangelism!

French Polynesia is a semi-autonomous territory belonging to France. It’s made up of 5 archipelagoes—the Society Islands, Tuamotu Archipelago, Gambier Islands, the Marquesas, and Tubuai Islands. It’s around 130 islands altogether, not all of them inhabited. They are allowed to send 5 representatives to Paris to serve in the governing assembly, but they are not French citizens. 

Check out the eel among the koi fish in the pond in the private garden. Tahitians revere eels and do not eat them. 

As Eric led us into the private garden behind the government house, he told us no one wants to be an independent country. Unlike New Caledonia (another French possession in the south Pacific) that is in political upheaval now because they are seeking independence, French Polynesia needs the protection and patronage of France to enjoy the standard of living they’ve achieved. New Caledonia has plentiful nickel deposits so they have something to build an economy on besides the very fragile tourist industry. 

Pape’ete is a modern city. They have a university, a hospital, air service to several continents. To be honest, when you think about the fact that this people group has catapulted from the stone age to the 21st century in a little over 200 years, I think they’ve accomplished something quite remarkable. 

The tour was supposed to be 1 ½ hours long, but at 2 ½ hours with no sign of slowing, we tipped Eric and found our way back to the ship. The matching temperature and humidity really exhausted me. To be fair, we often have high 90’s with high 90’s humidity in the Ozarks, but we believe in air conditioning there! 

Plus Percival (my purse sized portable oxygen concentrator I wear in a back pack) was down to 14 minutes worth of supplemental O2. The DH was carrying a spare battery in his backpack, so I was never in any danger, but it’s nice to be able to make it back to the ship on one battery. 

More soon…or, as often as the DH can bend the Viking wifi to his will! 

Bora Bora in Words

Jan 19, 2025

Technical note: There has been a flurry of technical difficulties getting my posts up. Evidently my 5 year old computer is too old to deal with the Sky's wifi updates. DH to the rescue. He's set my blog up on HIS computer, but everything still moves with the alacrity of a sea cucumber. I promise to write my impressions and gather up the photos, but I can't promise my blog posts will be regular. (Insert sad face here)  

Hope you enjoyed the DH’s photos. Bora Bora is an enchanting place. 

As usual when we travel, I want to learn more about the lives of the people who call the place home. Our delightful captain for our lagoon cruise introduced himself as Mana, whose name means “power.” He was a mean ukulele player and a fount of information. 

He was candid about Bora Bora’s struggles due to decreasing tourism. The island is dotted with several failed resorts, some that have been closed since the economic downturn of 2008. Some kept a skeleton work force just to care for the property while others have allowed the island to reclaim the buildings with its lush vegetation. More than a few have been scavenged for building material.  Other hotels reopened only to be crushed when covid shut down the island to all visitors.  Now Bora Bora is adding to its available “over-the-water” bungalows because 80% of the island’s guests are on their honeymoon.

Raiatea is a one hour ferry ride away from Bora Bora

The island visible in the distance is Raiatea. It’s the second largest island in French Polynesia, after Tahiti. High school aged students on Bora Bora used to have to take the hour long ferry to this sister island for the higher grades. But they didn't take the ferry every day. The kids stayed on Raiatea for two months while class was in session, then they’d be home on Bora Bora for a month throughout the year. Mana was proud to point out that Bora Bora has its own high school now. To attend university, they’ll have to go to Tahiti.

One last fun fact about Mana’s name. It turns out the DH’s name means “Strong & Powerful.” Pretty close to Mana’s meaning. I wonder how many other male names around the world mean “power.”  

More soon…

Bora Bora in Pictures

January 19th, 2025 

After a mad scramble all morning, the DH has finally wrestled all our photos into one of his montages. These are from Bora Bora, the island we were supposed to miss. But once you see these, I'm sure you'll agree it would have been a terrible shame! Enjoy, please.

Ch-ch-ch-Changes

January 18, 2025
80 degrees

"We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words — to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” ~ C.S. Lewis

When I first glimpsed Mo'orea in 2016, my chest constricted strangely. Even though the day was overcast, and the sun struggled to break through, the island was achingly beautiful. The jagged peaks rising from the waves made me weep for joy that God had blessed me with sight. 

Mo'orea in 2016

Now it appears we will not be calling on Mo'orea during this voyage, but I'm okay with that. So often when we visit a place that affects us deeply, we find on returning that the experience is not repeatable. And I suspect it's not because the place has changed. It's because I have. 

Evidently there was a groundswell of pushback over missing Bora Bora, so Viking has rearranged the itinerary so we could double back to "Bali Hai" after we deliver our ill shipmate to the hospital in Papeete. Today, we'll be in Tahiti, tomorrow Bora Bora, and then back to Tahiti so the Sky can be reprovisioned while we spend another day on this capital island of French Polynesia. But that leaves no room for Mo'orea in the schedule.

No matter. I still carry the memory in my heart.

 

Today, we reached Papeete around 9 AM. After the initial customs inspection of the Sky, a trio of crewmen wheeled out several suitcases and carry-on bags to a waiting taxi. The patient was brought down the gangway by EMT's from the Tahitian hospital. The woman who was disembarking with the ill man was escorted to the hospital in the taxi by our hotel manager. The man who supervises over 400 of the nearly 500 crew members on board, dropped everything to take care of this emergency and help them negotiate the scary prospect of seeking medical care in a far off land.  

It makes me feel even more satisfied with our choice of cruise line. Anyone can deliver an exciting itinerary, excellent meals and entertainment, but when there's a serious complication, it matters who's by your side. 

Last time we were in Tahiti in 2016, we made a stop at the museum of Polynesia. As usual, there wasn't nearly enough time for me to read all the placards and soak up all the exhibits of art and artifacts. So today, we joined an excursion that made the museum its sole focus. 

Even though our guide Greg was not a native--he moved from CA some 30 years ago--he was  knowledgable and passionate about French Polynesia and telling the story of the migration of the people. Just as the Atlantic has the Bermuda Triangle, the Pacific has its Polynesian Triangle, stretching from Hawaii, to Easter Island, and then to New Zealand. It's a large enough area to fit most of the continuous United States inside it. 

Greg claimed the Polynesians had a "six hour work week" because food was so readily available on Tahiti, but a people who carved iron wood (a wood so dense it will not float!) and volanic rock with stone tools cannot have been without a serious work ethic.  

Often the migrating ancient polynesians are portrayed as couragous and intrepid, but Greg's opinion is that they were the "losers." As the population grew on various islands, more wars and battles arose between competing factions. Greg suggests that those who lost were banished, rather than being killed outright. At least on the open ocean, there was a chance.

But what a slim one! It sort of reminds me of my own family who came to America in the 1600's. Clearly, we were in trouble in the old country. Or the vikings who were mostly second sons and couldn't inherit any of the miniscule plots of arable land in Norway.  

Still, you have to admire the ingenuity of the South Pacific seafarers. They packed everything they thought they'd need to transplant their culture on a distant shore. These stone age people managed to spread over the entire Pacific, from the island of Taiwan to Easter Island. Without any metal tools, they managed to build double hull canoes. They didn't weave cloth, but they discovered how to pound certain plants into sheets of something resembling it.  They didn't fire any pottery, but made use of stone tools to carve out gourds. They developed no written language, but retained a vibrant oral tradition of their animistic religion. 

I'm sorry not to offer more photos. The flowers around the museum were spectabular and plumeria trees were in riotous bloom. Unfortunately the band-width is making the internet pretty slow on board. But the DH is working on his montages and we'll upload them as soon as we're able. 

 

More soon...

Back to the Future...

 January 16th, or maybe 17th, no, wait! It's the 16th again!

Tho' the future's most uncertain

I'm sure of this one thing...

That when I'm in the bathtub

The telephone will ring!

~The Cheerful Cherub, Rebecca McCann

I'm unsure of the date because it's supposed to change a couple of times today. Yesterday, we crossed the equator and had the requisite Appeasement of the Neptune ceremony. This involves ritual shaming of "polywogs"--those who've never crossed the imaginary line that belts the earth before. It's all in good fun and involves the symbolic debasement of crew and willing passengers. Eventually, after much splashing about in the pool, everyone is pronounced a "shellback" and it comes down to a stylized food fight. 

Not my cup of tea, so we retreated to our cabin to do a little reading for pleasure. So far, I've read MM Kaye's Trade Winds, set in 19th century Zanzibar during the height of the slave trade, and I'm almost finished with Hillbilly Elegy, the autobiography of JD Vance, our next vice-president. His escape from poverty and a deeply disfunctional family is compelling.  Being able to read without feeling guilt over the things I should be doing instead is one of the big perks of an extended voyage.

Today, the Sky is hopscotching over another imaginary line--the one that separates today from tomorrow. Unlike the equator, which is a straight line girdling the planet, the dateline meanders through the Pacific in an effort to keep widespread island nations all on the same calendar date. 

In the screenshot to the left, the Sky is the glowing blue dot. As you can see, we have strayed into tomorrow, but as we continue southward, we'll go backward into yesterday. Um...or maybe I should say today. 

As the rock group Chicago famously asked, "Does anybody really know what time it is?"

We've also had a change to our itinerary. There has been a medical event onboard that is beyond our ship's doctor and staff's ability to deal with. One of our fellow passengers needs a hospital and the nearest one is Papeete, Tahiti. 

So, we are highballing past Bora Bora and the captain has put the hammer down. We'd been lazing along at 16 knots. When the big engines kicked in, I could feel the difference in the Sky. She seemed to lift a bit in the water as she streams in a beeline to the nearest haven. But it's not for nothing that the Pacific Ocean is called the largest feature on earth. Even with the increased speed, we won't reach Tahiti till early on the 18th. 

Some passengers are disappointed over missing Bora Bora and I sympathize. It's a magical island and we were blessed to visit it in 2016. Here's a link to my blog post of that port stop. But even if we hadn't already seen it, I wouldn't want our captain to make any other choice than the one he's made. He puts the safety and welfare of the passenger in need above all else. God bless him.

This also gives me a chance to encourage would-be travelers to buy trip insurance. Whatever health insurance you have in your home country, it likely will not cover you internationally. And if you need to be medically repatriated, that can be financial trouble you have not known if you don't have insurance. That's why we have travel health insurance as well as a policy with Fly Me Home. Yes, it's spendy, but it's worth it for peace of mind. Pretty good for a purchase I hope we never have to use. 

 

   Whatever else we fill our days with, they all start with Bible study in Torshavn. The DH is doing a great job leading us through the gospel of Mark and our numbers increase almost daily. It's a wonderful group from lots of different flavors of Christianity represented. The participation and discussion have been thought provoking and engaging.  

I think we've found our tribe!

More soon...                              

Worth a Thousand Words...

 The DH has assembled his Hawai'i photo montage and we finally caught enough band width to get it to upload. The Sky has pretty good wifi, but when there are so many users at once, it slows to the speed of a three-toed sloth. 

But here it finally is! Enjoy!

Kauai ~ The Garden Isle

 Hawaii is paradise born of fire~ Rand McNally

Among the islands in the Hawaiian chain who have managed to poke their heads above the waves, Kauai is the oldest. Kauai is situated at the northwest end of this string of green jewels. The hotspot that formed it is still in the same place but the techtonic plate all the islands have sprung from continues to move westward.

Being the firstborn comes with some perks. Kauai has had time to develop more topsoil than the other islands, making it uniquely fertile and agrarian.   

Our excursion took us to Kilohana Plantation, a 23,000 acre farmstead owned by Gaylord Wilcox, whose original crop was sugar cane. Now it's a mishmash of tropical fruits and traditional farm animals, along with a hulu show, an artisan center in the tudor-style manor house, and a narrow gauge train that allowed us to ride around the orchards and fields. 

Chickens were one of the subsistence animals brought to the islands by the ancient Hawaiians in their big double hull canoes. A major hurricane in 1992 upset chicken coops over the entire chain, and the birds literally "flew the coop!" Now they wander at will as free range birds. If you can catch one, you can eat it if you want. However, the natives say the best way to cook them is to boil them in a pot with a lava rock. As soon as the rock is soft, the bird is done! 

The Ancient mariners, probably from the Marchesa's, Samoa or Tahiti, also brought pigs and, I'm sorry to say, dogs, to fill their pots with meat. There were no other land animals on the islands to greet them, so no predators. Not even a snake to raid birds' nests. The Hawaiian's herds and flocks thrived.  

The original "poy dog" breed has faded into extinction.    

On an uninhabited island, if you don't bring it with you, it's likely not there. So the original migrants brought taro (for making poi), bananas, coconuts, and breadfruit as their "canoe plants." To add flavor, they also included sugar cane, kukui nuts and salt to their early manifests. 

Kauai has rich soil and plenty of rain. Things grow well here. Our guide was unhappy that so many new plants have been introduced to the island, things like pinapples, sweet potatoes,  coffee, mangoes, and papayas. But didn't the ancient Hawaiians do just that when they brought their dietary staples? Personally, I think the original "canoe plants" might keep body and soul together, but they sound pretty boring with repetition. 

And as much as our guide maligned the coming of industrial farming in the form of this huge plantation, she had to admit the family that owns it all now allows her to conduct native-style farming on a plot of land on the property without charging either rent or water fees. 

The train stopped long enough for us to feed some of the animals on the plantation. There were a couple of horses sharing the pasture with a large herd of pigs and the ubiquitous chickens. We used to have horses when we lived in Wyoming and my heart leans toward these lovely, sometimes fearful, often silly creatures. I so enjoyed having a moment with this gentle gelding. To be fair, he was mostly interested in the "horse cakes" I fed him, but he also seemed to enjoy being spoken to softly and having his cheek stroked. He liked to hear that he was a "good horse."

Hawiian hogs are very different in appearance from our midwestern pigs. The snouts are longer, and they are covered with thicker hair. The big boars were terrible bullies and if a piece of tortilla was tossed between the alpha and a small pig, the big guy squealed like a tasmanian devil and acted as if he'd be happy to make his rival the second course at his banquet. The smaller hogs defered to the big ones. But the newborn piglets were proof positive that baby "anythings" are too cute!

This young man called us to the hula show with a conch shell. He displayed amazing breath control. Sort of reminded me of the time the DH sang Mozart's Tuba Mirum without breaking a single phrase to grab a breath. Honestly, I could swear the man had a hollow leg filled with air! 

The Wilcox family built this elegant 16,000 square foot manor house in the 1930's. We were allowed to wander through the rooms and marvel at the way the outside was invited in through several lanai's. It hasn't been a single family home for many decades. Now it serves as a venue for events and each little nook and chamber is a gift shop or gallery for local artisans. 

But there are a few items of furniture that tease a glimpse into the house's elegant past. This wardrobe is inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Soon it was time to head back to the bus and our waiting ship. 

We had a short ecumenical church service before it was time for supper. There are at least two retired ministers on board, so they seem to be sharing the responsibility of organizing our little floating church. 

I never say goodbye to Hawaii. It's because I always hope to see it one more time before I'm done. So I'll just say, "Mahalo nui loa" as we sail away. 

Humuhumunukunukuapua'a

"It's a large hole and we place the urn through and then you can kind of feel it release...I tell the family, when I feel that pull, it's the ship accepting one of its own back" ~ NPS Dive Team Member for the USS Arizona Memorial

Diamond Head off the starboard bow 

There's a special kind of joy when you first sight land after many days at sea. Your heart skips a bit and you find within yourself, after dancing with the ocean, a strong desire to rest your foot on solid ground. This is especially true when you're returning to a place you've loved before. We've been blessed to visit Hawaii six times in our life, starting back when we were in our early 20's and could only afford to do so because the DH's job took him there. We were young and strong and swam in the ocean and I learned to surf on Waikiki. 

I may not be able to do those things now, but the island still calls to my heart.

Diamond Head at dawn

As we sailed in, we glided past Norwegian's Pride of America. In 2012, we took my parents and our daughters on a 7 day 'round the islands cruise on this ship. It was such a wonderful family time and I treasure those shared memories, especially since my Dad is no longer with us. It all went by so fast. (The trip, the years past, the way the islands and we have all changed, our life and our relationships, take that in any of the above meanings.) 

I think that's part of why I value travel so much. The experiences we share become part of us and also part of the places we visit. When I visit Hawaii, I'm seeing my Dad here, too. 

We tied up at Pier 10, very near downtown Honolulu and waited for our 10:15 excursion to Pearl Harbor. We've been there three times in all, but it's felt right to pay our respects each time.

The memorial structure built over the sunken USS Arizona features clean, pure lines and protects without distracting from the ship submerged beneath it.

The Arizona is still weeping oil after all these years, though there was no visible slick this time as I've noted at other times. The deteriorating hull is the watery tomb of over 900 sailors and marines who gave their all on December 7, 1941 and whose bodies were never recovered. Over the years, survivors of the sinking have instructed their families to have their ashes returned to rest with their shipmates. The quote at the start of this post describes how the divers who interr those remains feel about their sacred duty. 

Crewmembers whose remains were returned to the Arizona have had their names inscribed on these shorter walls. I wonder if these kids were looking for a great-grandpa's name...

The main portion of the memorial is America's Wailing Wall, where the names and ranks of the dead are carved in marble. There are 38 sets of brothers, at least one father and son, and one young man who had lied about his age to enlist. He celebrated his 17th birthday on December 6, 1941.

The Mighty MO is at rest near the USS Arizona. The USS Missouri was the site of the signing of the unconditional surrender of Japan.  

There were some hiccups with this excursion. We were surprised by how "Disney-ized" the USS Arizona periphery had become. In addition to several new museums (all available for an extra charge of $99 a piece!), we discovered that we should have booked a time to take the ferry out to the memorial itself. Fortunately, the DH retired from Google so he was able to use his tech skills to get us on a "standby" list and we made the very last ferry out and back. Not everyone on our bus from the Viking Sky did.

After returning to the ship for lunch, we set out on our Walmart run. When flying to meet a ship it's impossible to bring all the "consumables" a person needs for a 4 month cruise. Think about liquids specifically...toothpaste, mouth wash, laundry stain remover, etc. 

We also managed to try out Uber for the first time. It worked like a charm and we should have no difficulty with it in other places that have Uber. Lots of Asia does not, I'm told.  

Walmart used to run a free shuttle to and from the Aloha Tower, seen above from our balcony. Sadly, no more shuttle, which is why we had to leap into the 21st century and use Uber.

Because Oahu's volcanoes are not making any more land, Honolulu has built vertically. And what a lovely jewel of a city it is!

We're off to Kauai, the "Garden Isle" tonight. More soon...

PS. For 50 points toward the grand prize of a rubber cookie with cement frosting, what is a humuhumunukunukuapua'a?

Who You Travel With...

 "In life, it's not where you go, it's who you travel with."~Charles Schulz

One of the joys of extended travel is meeting other travelers. These kindred spirits become our companion as well as shipmates and our shared experiences make for fast friends. 

Viking arranged a reunion of the 2022 World Cruise because there are 80+ of us on board. We remember daily covid tests, and mandatory masking. We remember remaining in the "Viking Bubble" while ashore to avoid either infecting the port we visited or bringing the virus back on the ship with us. We also remember the true adventure of not knowing exactly where our voyage would take us, but trusting it would be amazing.

And it was...in large part because of the people we traveled with.

Meet Don. He was on the Pacific Princess with us in 2018 and the Viking Star on 2022. We're delighted to see him again on the Sky! He's no longer playing bridge, but he's still a chessmaster!

The DH and I are text-book introverts. We're happy and comfortable with each other's company and if we're honest, the idea of mingling, especially in large groups, is a little stressful. But once we get over the natural reticence, we discover that half the world is waiting for the other half to say hello.  

So we're trying to say hello first. 

Tomorrow is our first port of call--Honolulu! After rocking and rolling across the Big Blue, everyone is breathing a sigh of relief. 

More soon...

The Sky Speaks

 

NAUTICAL TERM OF THE DAY

"By guess and by God"

This early form of navigation  relied upon experience, intuition, and faith.
Now it means, "inspired guesswork."

We're more than halfway to Hawaii now, too far from land to be able to see many seabirds. I'd love to report sighting pods of dolphins or whales breaching off the port bow. No such luck. The Pacific is about 2.7 miles deep here, so most of the creatures who call the ocean home have more appropriate places to be than up on the surface with us. 

But the sea itself and the vault of the sky provides us with plenty to enjoy.

 I often refer to our planet as being "unneccessarily beautiful." But I'm coming to believe that it's deliberate and God loves beauty for its own sake. Why else would the whole water cycle system that keeps our planet well-watered and teeming with life also produces some of the most achingly beautiful actual "watercolor" vistas? 

Our days are falling into predictable rhythmns. We usually breakfast on the fantail so we can also relish the rising sun over the cobalt waves. I often feel overwhelmed by our great good fortune, but this morning we managed to do 3 loads of laundry before we hit the World Cafe. Maybe we deserve this pampering just a little bit. (wink!)

After breakfast, we have Bible study in Torshavn. The gospel of Mark travels at a breakneck pace, so it's a change from our leisurely crossing of the Big Blue. Then we sat in for a lecture on "The gods of Polynesia" with emphasis on the Hawaiian pantheon since that's our first destination. Mostly, the myths and legends seem to indicate that Polynesian men had a healthy respect for the ire of their women. Why else would they decide the volcanic deity was female?  

After lunch we had choir rehearsal. So far we're working on SAB (Soprano, Alto, Baritone) settings of "The Sound of Silence" and "Don't Go Breakin' My Heart." At first I was really excited because there was a stack of "Do You Hear the People Sing?" from Les Miserables up front. When I picked one up, our Cruise Director Matt had to pry it from my hand as he said, "No, I don't hear the people singing just yet." 

Bummer. Maybe he'll add it later.

As a kid, did you ever lay in the grass and imagine sky animals in the clouds? I can't decide if this one is a dragon or a pegasus. What do you see?

Before supper tonight, we'll have a 2021-2022 WC reunion in the Wintergarden. There are over 80 of us on board and more than a few survivors of the "Bus 10 Fiasco." Check out this link if you want in on the joke! 

We're planning to have supper with Earline and Steve, two new friends of ours, and afterward, it's off to the Sky Theatre for the first production show from our entertainment staff. Viking always hires such talented people. I'm sure it'll be a real treat.

More soon...

Sea Days Doings & Specialty Dinings

 January 7, 2025

Where after all, would be the poetry of the sea were there no wild waves?” – Joshua Slocum

So glad we stepped out on the balcony at precisely the right time to catch this rainbow.

We're finally out of the California Current, so the swells are no longer battering us broadside. The DH is blessed with viking genes. He's never troubled by heaving seas. Not so for me, but as long as I have my trusty scopolamine patch, I'm good. However, since we are in a cabin located amidships this time, the wave motion is much less noticeable. In the past, we've opted for forward cabins because they are less expensive. They're also like riding the nose of a dolphin in high seas. We were upgraded to the cabin we're in now, so we're enjoying the more premium location for the price of our usually wilder ride. 

Part of an extended voyage is discovering our "tribe," a group of people with similar interests who will become our circle of friends. The best way to do this is to join in with lots of activities. We started our morning with a Bible study on the gospel of Mark led by my DH. He hadn't intended to do it, but the group organized on FB asked for a volunteer and he stepped up. It was such fun to fill up Torshavn, the Sky's nightclub, with folks looking to learn more about Jesus. (Another couple asked if we'd like to have supper with them on Thursday evening, so seems like our "tribe-building" scheme is working!)   

Then we scooted as quickly as possible to the aft of the ship to join the watercolor class. As you can see from our labors below we're more about process than product! But it's a fun activity and so relaxing I could feel my blood pressure dropping as I noodled away.

We're thinking "aloha" thoughts with our hibiscus renderings. Hawaii is bursting with flowers and is the first place I've been encouraged to pick any blossom I liked. Another would appear in its place the next day.

We filled our afternoon with a lazy visit to the Nordic spa. This time the stone lounges were slightly heated, which meant a 15 minute or so semi-nap while we soaked up the heat. 

Next we showered and dressed for dinner. There's no formal night on Viking, but we do like to elevate our look a little for the evening meal. After all, every night on board is "date night."

We had a reservation at The Chef's Table thanks to Godie's recommendation. (You've met him in a previous post.) Dinner in this specialty restaurant is long on flavor and excellent service, but light on actual food. It's a 5 course tasting menu and paired with small glasses of 4 different wines, so the helpings were just right. 

First course--Amuse Bouche (read: entertains the mouth)

Yes, you're right. It's a single sweet potato chip garnished with apple, rosemary & creme fraiche. The dish might be little, but the effect was mighty. When paired with a sip or two of light sweet Garganega wine, my lips were definitely amused. 

First Course- Crab Cake

California style crab cake with avocado, orange, fennel, shallot, dill and blood orange paired with a Chilean Sauvignon Blanc. I overheard the guy at the table next to ours asking for, and receiving, seconds.

Granita--An Uptown Shave Ice

This Moscow Mule inspired palate cleanser was made of ice, ginger beer, lime juice & vodka. At first bite, I tasted no alcohol but when my lips and tongue started tingling I handed the cup over to the DH to finish. I still remember how a deceptively innocent fruit salad infused with tequila laid me out early on our 2022 cruise. 

Main Course- Seared Halibut

Dressed with California olive & herb viniagrette, crumbled roasted cauliflower and buttered panko hiding under this probably 2 oz sized piece of fish. But hey, when you wash it down with a Chilean Chardonnay, it's plenty. 

Dessert--Ojai Mandarin Parfait

Last but not least, this orange treat was garnished with candied ginger and roasted almond slivers. Add a few sips of a truly beguiling Italian Moscato and I didn't even mind that it didn't have a speck of chocolate in it. 

The evening show featured Rachael Tyler, a singer with a high belt that could give Liza Minelli a run for her vocal cords. She's performed on both Broadway and the West End in London, and when she switched up to sing a ballad or two, revealed herself to be a real vocal stylist. She'll return to the Viking stage in a couple of days in a program that features standards from the American Songbook. All the old favorites my mom used to play while we gathered around to sing them. 

I'm looking forward to her next show. 

(Which is more than I can say for tomorrow night's performer. It's a...shudder...ventriloquist. Some people are creeped out by clowns. I have an irrational dislike for anyone who makes obligatory junior high jokes about where his hand is inserted to animate his "partner." Sorry, folks. Sometimes the heart doesn't want what the heart doesn't want!) 

More soon....