April 20
It has been a while. Not the ship’s fault, but mine. I lost my Add-a-Post command in my cowebblog and could only write through an Edit order, so that my readers, if/when they logged in, had to read through back reports till they got to the new one. I hope I am caught up now, thanks to my friend and mentor, Jennifer, who straightened me out from afar. I will write a blog-by-blog missive and hope it lands safely….
It has been a busy time. I told you about the fabulous dolphin expedition and the poetry-in-motion of the most promiscuous creatures on earth (or water), next to humans. They live in the moments, as we have been doing on this ship. We had a triple whammy on a glass-bottom boat out of Bora Bora when we experienced not only a feeding frenzy among the fish beneath us but also an intimate encounter with a stingray/ stingrays. I think I told you about that, and the cartoon-like face presented when our diver turned one upside down to show its mouth and eyes. Yes, I think that’s where I left off.
In Raiatea I had been on the same expedition last year and I still don’t want to buy a black pearl or eat coconut. But it was nice to sit there in an AC bus on a tropical island and bask and gaze, two activities I seldom indulge in. My leg was still swelling and aching after walking so it was good to sit. In Rangiroa June wanted to take a sentimental journey. We took the tender to shore and walked briefly to a place (restaurant? cafe?) where we bought cool coconuts with straws set into drilled holes, to drink coconut water. It was a photo op to commemorate a similar excursion June enjoyed last year. I took a picture, she took a picture, a stranger kindly took a picture of t he two of us. I’ll try to send you one, but don’t count on it.
I had a pedicure and a manicure in the spa on the ship, another indulgence that I should enjoy more often. I keep thinking of Scarlett O’Hara when she went to ask Rhett Butler for money when he was in jail. Remember? Mammy made her a lovely dress from the green velvet curtains at Tara but she forgot her poor, abused hands. (Scarlett O’Hara, you look like a field hand! I am a field hand!) Well, I look like a pampered traveller.
Fat, too. I haven’t been as careful this time and there are special foods I want to enjoy during this brief cruise. I mean 18 days is brief compared to the 109 days I had last year. I find, too that I’m in a different mindset. The last two and a half months have been grueling and I seem to be – no, I am – very lazy – no, tired – and lackadaisical (lack-a-daisy-me, this is none of I). So, lacking daisies, I am now sniffing the flowers as I go by.
We went to one island, an atoll, really, that we skipped last year, at the eastern end of French Polynesia. No excursion was laid on (not much to see) but tenders took us over so we could say we set foot on Fakarava. Four swivel-hipped dancers with thick leis around their pelvis stepped and swayed to the rhythms of drums. One of them, a little older than her companions, kept losing her way and glancing at the others to catch up, smiling all the while. We smiled too.
Two Sea Days brought us to Pitcairn Island and I began to touch base with my homework: a harder look at the screenplay I’ve been working on. I think my mind has turned to coconut water.
Pitcairn Island touched and astounded us in many ways. I’m going to have to write a whole blog devoted to it, and an essay for publication (?). More anon.
June talked to a seatmate on her flight from Portland (Oregon) to Hawaii and he showed up on our ship. He’s rattling around in the Owner’s Suite. His wife had to work; she’ll go with him on a later cruise, also in the Owner’s Suite.) So he’s a little lonely. We had dinner with him a couple of nights ago and we’re dining together again tonight, with drinks and nibbles each night before going to one of the specialty restaurants. The Owner’s Suite is palatial, comprising the entire stern of the ship on the ninth level. The décor, by Calvin Klein, is custom and capricious and dazzling, like something out of a Hollywood film set – circa the 30s and 40s when they made those madcap movies. It’s so big, no wonder he’s lonely. He says he’s been watching a lot of movies. He has not one but two butlers who insist on bringing him afternoon tea, and who look after our pre-dinner goodies. And by the way, June and I don’t have a butler, as I had thought; we have a concierge we share with our neighbours.
So here I am, hoping I can ADD A POST and catch up with my faithful bloggers.