February 20, 2024

Cruising the South Pacific

South of Figi headed to New Zealand

About 1,000 miles away.

Day 46 of 136

Well the signs that presented themselves last night have turned out to be very accurate. Last night there was probably more than one time during the night that I thought one of us was going to get tossed out of bed. While the gentle back and forth is comforting, it is only to a certain degree.

It had just gone five when I woke up, the sun was just begging to appear over the horizon and into our suite as I walked over to the sliding glass door to check on the weather. Not more than two steps into the short journey did it become obvious that there was going to be a lot of swaying, rocking and bouncing today.

The sliding glass wasn’t clear, despite the diligent washing it get from house keeping everyday. The window was covered with those small, although these weren’t that small, rain drops. Looking past the rain drops you could see the whipped up sea. The whipped cream covered blue waters. Oh, oh must be hungry. The white capped waves.

Grabbed a quick shower and shave, then it was off to the coffee connection for my morning cappuccino and brioche. Once there I worked on the Blog and managed to get it posted. Usually when they ship is swaying to and fo the internet connection is lost a lot. This makes posting very difficult.

There were two lectures today. One by Terry Bishop on New Zealand and another by Laney with the Scottish accent. One of the nice things about being on a sea day is that you have an opportunity to learn about where you will be visiting. My appreciation for those that traveled during the age of sail has grown immensely.

They had no idea where they were going. They did it is ships which are minuscule compared to the Mariner. Ships without any of the modern conveniences the Mariner has. No choice of restaurants, probably no choice of food. Little clean drinkable water, and none for bathing. Once the arrived, whereever that was, it didn’t necessarily get any better. The arrived to a potentially perilous location, potentially full of hostile people, no food supplies except what you could forage, and no buildings, hotels, or houses in which to sleep except what you were able to cobble together.

Listening to this, how can anyone be afraid of traveling in this world of multiple travel options. Yes there are hostile people and there are places you should think seriously about before traveling, but you can’t be afraid of everything that could possibably go wrong. To be honest when things go wrong in our travel world, it often ends up being an adventure you wouldn’t have, or a good story for when you get old.

La Veranda was having Indian food night. We were very curious how they would do with that. Could it be possible they might have something spicy? Doesn’t matter I have my Tahitian fire sauces. Turns out they didn’t have much. The most Indian thing presented was Samosas. Jayashree wouldn’t have recognized them; we barely did. The kitchen was able to supply one Thai Chili sauce for me, and there were a couple Indian dipping sauces, although they weren’t identified as exactly what they were.

It was “good” but not great, as usual. The Tahitian fire dosen’t really have any taste. It is just fire. The bottle looks like a combination of pineapple and chili. Unfortunately the Tahitian’s don’t have the labeling laws we have in the US so it is impossible to properly identify the ingredients. Mixing the fire with Thai chili sauce seemed to give the best result for a dipping sauce.

Just as we were finishing the meal, there was a realization what maybe there was something in one of the dishes that wasn’t going to agree with my delicate constitution. At the time the realization of what it was or wasn’t was unclear. The seas were rough, it was raining, at least a little, the the humidity was high. At first I thought it was just the rough sea.

After dinner I met Stuart, the correct spelling, in the connoisseur lounge for a cigar. We exchanged emails and phone number and agreed to have dinner tomorrow night, and play canasta sometime during the day. After one cigar it was time to put myself to bed. It was going to be a rough night.

Buonanotte non sembra proprio. Forse più meglio, Non è male. Ciao, Enrico.