June 3, 2015

5:10 a.m.

Moorea, French Polynesia

HAPPY JUNE FIRST!

The Wifi on the ship is crowded now and backed up. I haven’t been able to get online and I have also had several shore days, still to be reported, so there’s a lot to say. At least, I have been doing some more thinking and some more Trivial Pursuit. Also some more drinking. Some new friends (by this time shipboard friendships feel like old friends) have a veranda, and the weather is now very fine, so I taken some of the wine I bought in Australia to share with them “outside.” Last night the view over the water of Bora Bora stunned me with its beauty and serenity – and unbelievable colour.

In fact, Bora Bora delighted us all. Heavenly. Of course, we get the tourist-eye-view through the rose-coloured glasses. Depending on the guide in each of these island paradises that we visit, we get a glimpse of the social and economic problems, or the history, or the educational system. Unless you were Marlon Brando, who married a Tahitian woman and owned 5 or 6 homes, bungalows on stilts over the turquoise water that he gave away to his wife, her family, his lawyer, his long-time best friend and Jack Nicholson, you might have difficulty making ends meet if you were to live there. Or maybe not: A Canadian RRIF or Pension Plan might go far.

The guide in Pago Pago gave us a self-destructive monologue about his personal life with heart-breaking, self-denigrating attempts at humour. He told us he had lost 82 pounds and is now down to 502 pounds. He assured us that if the tour bus had an accident he could supply all the air bag we would need. Similar jokes about his size elicited painful laughter.

Paradise. Really? Even as a retirement plan, living on one of these islands might be difficult. On vacation, we forget how many conveniences we take for granted at home and the cultural amenities that give meaning to our lives. Even the sports buffs and athletes can’t swim with the sharks and kayak forever.

It’s too early in the morning to be so ruminative (chewing my cud?). I still couldn’t get online so I resorted to Word and I’ll paste this strand of thought into my cobweb when I get a line to swing on.

I’m going to swim now…

The waves in the pool offer a real work out these past two mornings. I am amazed at the effort it takes to cross this minuscule sea. It feels good. I feel healthy and trim. One of these days I'm going to weigh myself.

I'm not the only one who looks forward to and relishes Sea Days. I wouldn't have believed how busy one gets and how involved in daily activities. The shore excursions cut into the time! I am also surprised at the depth of friendship one can develop in this unreal shipboard time. It's not summer camp time; that's too short. It's more like boarding school: daily and inexorable and seemingly endless, for good or ill. Mostly for good.

I still get flyers from my favourite grocery stores and recipes from the New York Times but I can't pay any attention because I am not shopping or cooking for myself. I do plan, however. Along with our nightly newsletter, we receive a sheet of menus for lunch and dinner the next day. I study it all day, in spare moments, and figure out what I'll eat, taking into account my plans for the day, with a nod to Weight Watchers and calorie counts. I hope I don't make it sound like work. I enjoy it.

Perhaps, if anyone is interested, I can give some examples of my daily intake and of the delights offered.

More anon.