Australia

March 25, 2026
Two kayaks on a calm lake, with mountains and cloudy sky in the background.

 The yellow pilot boat is approaching. A pilot will be brought onboard to guide our ship through the harbor. As we progress, a stretch of islands pass us on the left then, the coastline, on both sides. Sailboats, white triangles against the dark blue water, shine in the distance.  Cliffs drop sheer from the pastureland to the tan beaches. Dark green groves fill the crevasses. We cruise along under the dome of the sky. Soon we will be docked at Port Melbourne, Hobson's Bay, Australia. 


 Living life onboard, traveling around the world, I feel like a spirit watching the living as they go about their activities. I am a temporary exhalation, undetected then gone. But their doings remain in my mind. Humans are so very busy, especially the young adults. It takes significant aging to bring on stillness and reflection. My obscurity can make me sentimental. I feel a general affection for anyone who passes. I saw a baby watching sea gulls eat the French fries that someone had tossed to them. I imagined her forming her own impressions of  everything around and not yet named. I wished her well and hoped that the war would end soon.

Two people paddle a wooden boat on a body of water.

I want lives to continue, plans and hopes to be realized. I want her to be spared the knowledge of war. People are just starting to get used to their new connectivity in our Worldwide Web. (Or is it even called that anymore?) They are learning quickly from each other and can amuse and educate each other from great distances. All the economies are linked now. A string plucked in Australia can be heard in Canada. We wear, use and eat things that come from thousands of miles away. We are just getting to know each other, to be interested and adjusted to other solutions, other ways of living. We know we don't want wars. Even the nation's leaders, so far, are refusing, at this time, to get involved. “This is not our war.” 


 The ones who want to break things are very loud. They jump onto the Internet using anger and insults to get attention, temporarily disorienting society. The expression of interesting thought, occasions for useful discussion that can enforce agreed upon law, these are more scarce, take time and frustratingly they follow in the rubble of destruction. It is easy to break things, putting them back together takes a long time.


 There is a lot going on. For the most part the profound structuring that International Economics has accomplished, over the past 100 or so years, is not understood by most of the population, but its results are clear to everyone. Approximately 20% of oil flow, stopped at the Strait of Hormuz, raises oil prices worldwide. It is a fair trade item. The companies that control the price per barrel are not humanitarians. They are opportunists and not expected to behave compassionately. The subject of oil is discussed in all the news. The Strait of Hormuz is controlled by Iran. Oil is the blood of the Economy. Everything that is manufactured, transported and traded country to country has been disrupted. “What can we do?”, “When will this end?”, “How will it end?” These are the questions asked, over and over. Is this war building to a third world war? Are nuclear weapons being considered? How unhinged has this all become? No one was consulted. The decision to go to war was made by a handful of people. We are stopped in our tracks, hesitating, looking around nervously, like a silent herd of deer. But one important thing that we all can see is that the International Economy is stronger than any country or leader. The final result, that no one can predict, is quietly resolving itself, alignments are moving into place, responding to the demands of the market, the demands of economics, and meanwhile we are adjusting. A pattern has not yet been finalized, but nothing will look like it did before. At this point in history society is starting to understand that the Economy is our World Government.

Children playing near a boat, next to a wooden building. One child jumps, others sit or stand.

Money works as an organizer. If distributed equally, it can result in a shorter work week, less production for profit only, more renewable energy, an emphasis on efficient basic needs production and distribution. Humanity would benefit, Nature would benefit. AI can help, robots can do menial work. Job sharing, and remote work would be the norm. But presently money is elusive, running like water, out of your wallet, out of your bank, always being called back to its source. And no one can predict the timing of these movements. It is constantly mutating toward where it finds profit.


 I see the effects of 16th to 18th century colonialism wherever we go, in the design of the governments, the architecture, the religious options, education, healthcare, what is for sale, what you can buy, their commercials, their food and their shelters. International economics has continued this trend by enforcing a kind of Worldwide Colonialism. Its for profit emphasis encourages homogenization and enslavement that encompasses anywhere and everyone. Any dictator, colonialist, president, prime minister, king, emperor, etc, who thinks he or she can control this is mistaken. 


 I can't help seeing that people suffer. I have watched the freedom and grace of young skateboarders under a bridge in the knowledge of how short this exhilaration will last.

Making a living is our powerful necessity and distraction. It occupies us through most of our lives. The suffering is more obvious in the poorer countries, less hidden. People sense that they are rushing past something; something valuable, fleeting, maybe wonderful. This is a silent loss, and takes a toll. Most people can't stop making a living, instead of living, until they are too weak to work. Very few have the free time a monetary legacy at birth would bring. Free time should be everyone's birthright. It is where innovation, creativity and philosophy are developed. Things that help society mature and survive.

We were invited as a small group to visit the ship's bridge. That place where all points are taken into account, the depth under the hulls, the satellites above, our speed, our course, other ships out there, distance to land on port and starboard, the effects of weather, the balance of the ballast, the leap of our bow and the disappearance of our wake. A brilliant young woman described the functions of the instruments that record and announce these things and we all felt well taken care of and safe afterward. All is well on our good ship Odyssey, for now.

We generally stay 2 or 3 days at each port. Just long enough to get an impression. Like the joke about the blind men trying to decide what an elephant is by touching only one place on the animal's body, I try to form an impression of each place. What is surprising is how similar they are! I can extrapolate from my experiences and observations during my own long life. I recognize familiar things and begin to understand the human behaviors and evolutions of the environments that I am seeing. My gut feeling is that we will make it. We will go beyond war, we will not need so much oil in the future. We will have shorter work weeks and more free time. And I'm not even an idealist!



 The lines are being thrown to the hands on the dock. We have arrived in Melbourne.

March 12, 2026
The most important thing we have to do, now that we have re boarded our ship in downtown Sydney, is to increase the number of pages in our passports. Most countries will stamp a whole page and sometimes two. Our passports, though new, only had twenty eight pages. This will not be enough to get us around the world! So we made an appointment with the US Embassy, along with 50 other passengers, to address this issue by purchasing larger passport books which have 52 pages. The Embassy was new and modern, the employees good natured and efficient, considering that we descended on them all at once. We conducted our business in an orderly manner under the watchful eyes of the US President, Vice President and Secretary of State, whose framed photographs dominated the far wall.
February 23, 2026
After all our planning for Jeff's next operation and waiting out the days till we arrived in Cairns, Australia, we finally flew to the Sydney airport. It was evening when we got there and both of us were exhausted. We both thought why call an Uber, there are a bunch of taxis hanging around, just take one of them to the motel. That was a mistake. We ended up paying $100 for a 20 minute trip in no traffic. Uber would have been half, I found out later. Since then we have taken several Uber rides in electric cars. And they have been excellent experiences. Australia has been importing Chinese made electric cars. We got to ride in a BYD and Uber drivers like to talk. We conversed with a Japanese driver and an Indian driver, both men. Both had been in Australia about 15 years. They seemed to like being in the big city. Both agreed it is generally too expensive. The driver from Japan, his wife works in the hospital and they have children, he likes the flexibility of the job so he can be involved with school and activities. The Indian driver has a son and would like to return to India so his son can experience his homeland. We are resting at our motel and I am outside watching the wild cockatiels.
February 11, 2026
We have several sea days before we arrive again in Cairns, Australia. This means we will not see land for a while. The rhythm of sea days is very different from shore days. There are a variety of activities you can participate in. Almost anything you can imagine is being invented as a result of the variety of people onboard, some of whom want to duplicate the entertainments they enjoyed where they used to live.  This is a residential cruise ship so a lot of the passengers are onboard long-term, meaning many months or years or the rest of their lives. The longest stay, if you “buy” your cabin, is 15 years. When Jeff and I bought our cabin that was all that was offered. Now you can buy a cabin for 5 years. Each circumnavigation takes about three and one half years. We are going to try to stay onboard for at least one circumnavigation. Before the sea days began, we visited two of the islands of Tonga. At the first stop, people scuba dived over a reef right next to our ship
January 27, 2026
The float of cloud drifts and encircles a mountain leaving just the very top, a pointed witches cap poking through. These islands have the most magnificent mountains. They brood around the harbors, snagging the clouds that pass. No doubt they have inspired fantastic stories. The cloud shadows create chameleon-like changes on mountain surfaces, making them even more expressive than oceans that amuse themselves by hiding what they contain; mountains are hysterical by contrast. Always looking for attention. “Look. Look again!, what about this?” They may hold a pose for a while seeming docile, then you look up and they have disappeared. White mist covers just a grey suggestion, then suddenly black silhouettes like broken giant teeth rise defiantly. So much animation, millions of years after volcanic upheavals shook these mountains from the sea depths.
January 13, 2026
Medical emergencies all have a similar feeling. Intensity, urgency, a changed perception of time; only events and human encounters progress, time seems warped, unimportant. After several sleepless nights because Jeff was having difficulty peeing and he was beginning to have pain, he went to the onboard clinic to get catheterized. There were three attempts with successively larger catheters. This was painful and distressing for him, though he kept joking about it, “this is not good sex!” The attempts were unsuccessful. He was given pain killers and an ambulance met us at the dock for a 10 minute ambulance ride to the hospital. Jeff is an 80 year old man with an enlarged prostate so he normally has trouble peeing. But this time it stopped altogether and there was blood. We are waiting at the hospital for the urologist. Nurses and a general practitioner have spoken to us in English. Very kind, polite, casual and patient. The urologist arrives and talks with Jeff. He is going to get the operating room ready and put Jeff out. Then he can do the operation. We wait in our curtained off cubicle Jeff is lying on a bed. A woman who came with her husband, who has high blood pressure, is behind the curtain to the left of us. He had collapsed. She is reciting the Lord's Prayer and Hail Marys over and over in an emotional whisper. She is crying. A young man is in the cubicle to our right. He seems to have broken his arm. It is all wrapped up in white gauze. Earlier a man had been stung by something and ointment was applied. A pregnant woman has come in. This is a modest hospital, very basic, two floors. They have what they need. A few flies buzz lazily around, but most are killed by the electric device on the wall. A very slight smell of urine is in the air. We arrived here about 8:30. It is now 2:00. Jeff has had an ultrasound, blood pressure checks and an EKG. Now he is in a wheelchair waiting for the nurse to take him to an operating room. The waiting room has about 10 people waiting. About 50 chairs in all. Not terribly busy for a Saturday. Light and darker coffee colored skin, attractive, rounded features and large expressive eyes set apart the native population. They are only a little curious about us. There is no rushing here.
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