Sea days
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
When we walked into the village we didn't go further than the excellent farmers market where we bought local bananas and limes, two items the ship often runs out of. At the second island, a large city was accessible by foot. We spent the first day observing people, many of their garments were adorned with traditional belts of woven grass and the ‘man skirt’ was popular.
The next day we walked to the government building. Because it was right there as we entered the city. Jeff thought maybe we could float our idea of the Parallel Currency to the Finance Minister, and get some feedback. This almost became an international incident. Our first challenge was to find where in the huge complex was the finance minister’s office. Every guard we encountered sent us in a different direction. Finally we came back to the first place we were directed to and asked again. This time the guard indicated the 3rd floor and he let us into the elevator. When we stepped out we found we were at the Prime Minister's office! An elderly receptionist greeted us kindly and Jeff said, “This is even better!” We were ushered into an elegant reception room and someone went off to find an official to speak with us. We introduced ourselves as an NGO. We were joined by a pleasant, slightly suspicious lady, who took a few notes and accepted our website card for further reading. Jeff gave her a summary of how the Parallel Currency could help the local population, (which is mostly poor and depends on the Catholic Church for schools and curriculum). She listened politely, then asserted that everyone is already provided food, shelter, education and healthcare in Tonga. But the students do pay a fee to the Church to attend the schools. “Very affordable,” we are told. Previously we observed some of the young girls dressed for school in uniforms with blue or yellow ribbons in their hair to differentiate the schools. They were lovely with long black hair and talking excitedly. One girl asked me if we were going to the reggae concert happening that evening at an outdoor venue nearby. I said “No, but you should go. It is for young people.” She answered, “We can't go, we are poor.” Turns out 100 passengers from our ship were planning to attend. Our conversation with the representative of the prime minister wound down and we were given bottles of water to take (it was a very hot day) and as we turned to go a young agitated woman appeared (also beautifully dressed in traditional garb) and said to Jeff and I that we were disrespecting them with our unannounced presence. We had not made an appointment! And to leave immediately! Which we were already in the process of doing. The nice elderly receptionist led us to the elevator and pushed the down button.
When we reached the ground floor the agitated lady was already there berating the guard that let us into the elevator. “He had nothing to do with it.” Jeff said, “We were looking for the Finance Minister's office.” She turned abruptly toward Jeff and said, “I’m not talking to you!”
At the end of these five sea days we will be in Cairns, Australia. Where Jeff and I catch a flight to Sydney and meet his doctor. Then an operation on Jeff and his recovery for 10 days and we reboard the ship if all goes well. We both have anxiety about this and try to not think too far ahead.
Meanwhile I have been amusing myself by sitting on the deck watching and listening to the ocean. I wrote down this observation.
The sound of our ship cutting through the ocean, parting swells, pushing them aside from the bow, reminds me of my Cocoa Beach childhood, the hollow rustling of waves coming in and flattening on the sand. This experience, began my consciousness of a larger world.
Now I sit on this ship traveling across the Pacific on our way to Australia. I am not a child sitting on the beach with my arms around my knees, listening to a wave withdraw, watching the periwinkles dig into the wet sand. I am an adult in the last quarter of my life.
I am circumnavigating the world. That larger place I sensed as a child. And I find it too large. I think I had a better idea of it then. When I first understood vastness and content. Now it exceeds my grasp. But hearing the sound of our ship parting the ocean comforts me and I let go.
