Out of Sight, Out of Mind, Out of Touch

ms Amsterdam
July 19, 2013

We are now officially in the middle of nowhere.

Each day about 12:45 pm the captain gives a position and weather report. Yesterday
afternoon he confirmed what we had suspected: no satellite. Period. Can you hear me
now? Uh, no. Good heavens, we've even lost Fox News!

The captain explained that all communication is now by radio. We, along with 14,000
other ships at sea, are being monitored by an agency based in West Virginia of all
places. Should any vessel have an emergency, all other ships in that vicinity are alerted
and will provide assistance. It's sort of a sea-going AAA Roadside Emergency service.

So now we are traveling old school: no Internet, email, CNN or (gasp) ESPN. By
tomorrow we should be close enough to Easter Island to pick up the NFL playoff games
and the Australian Open tennis, and those poor souls who keep wandering around with
iPads or laptops looking for a (non-existent) wifi hot spot can finally get on line.

We do still receive an eight-letter page size New York Times each morning. It contains
summaries of the latest international and national news, stock market numbers, some
sports and a few editorial and opinion pieces and the daily crossword. I don't miss the
TV except for the network evening news but I really miss radio and the local news.
Not quite enough to spend 25 cents a minute to read the Marietta Daily Journal online
though.

It's noon as I type this. We're still sailing on a course of 249 degrees at nearly 19
knots so we can reach Easter Island early Monday morning. (Quick check to confirm
it is indeed Saturday today.) The seas are remarkably calm; the temperature a steady
72 degrees with an apparent wind of 19 knots. It's pretty near perfect in the middle of
nowhere with just enough puffy clouds for spectacular sunsets.

Today's quirky fact: Easter Island is Chilean and stays on Chilean time. So here, in the
middle of nowhere, nearly 1300 nautical miles from General San Martin, Peru, it is still
EST, so sunrise and sunset times get a bit later every day. I'm assuming that as soon
as we leave Easter Island we will be changing time every day until we catch up with the
rest of the world.

In between Easter Island and Tahiti we spend a few hours offshore of Pitcairn Island.
All the veteran travelers say this is so the 40 or 50 citizens of PI can come out in their long boat (note singular) with "stuff" to sell. The pool deck is closed to sunning and
swimming so the islanders can set up a market to sell "stuff." A lot of stuff. Each family
has their own table. I'm imagining the world's oddest flea market.There is no air service
to Pitcairn (it's only 1 x 2 miles) so supplies come by boat four times a year. About 20 or
so cruise ships will stop during the year so this occasion is a Big Deal for the islanders
and from what I hear great fun for everyone.

It's Formal Night #3 tonight so Jim is trying to choose which of his two ties he will wear.
He leads such a complicated life...

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

ms Amsterdam
January 18, 2013

It's 9:30 am EST (we haven't changed time zones yet) and we are sailing along at 18.4
knots, about a third of the way to Easter Island; 1300+ nautical miles to go. No wonder
people thought the world was flat. All you can see is a straight blue line of the ocean
on the horizon. The seas are quite calm. The ship moves a little bit but it's like flying in
a jet; unless you're looking out a window you really can't tell which way you're going or
even IF you're moving forward. That is my excuse for consistently heading the wrong
direction when I'm going from place to place onboard. I'd mark my trail but someone
would be right behind me vacuuming, washing or scrubbing. They must go through
vats of cleaning products. You can't go ten feet without someone squirting Purel in your
palms. Keeping everyone healthy is of primary concern. No one wants to be sleeping
with the roses!

We went to a special dinner at one of the smaller restaurants last night, a recreation of
Le Cirque in NYC. They use the same china and silverware and linens as well as the
same menu. Suddenly it's 1970 and you're scanning the room for Henry Kissinger or
Barbara Walters or Jackie O. The pre-cholesterol-awareness food was delicious -- do
you even remember the last time you saw Chateaubriand on a menu let alone ordered
it? When we returned to our cabin we found a little wooden box embossed with the Le
Cirque logo containing a selection of truffles "as a last Le Cirque indulgence" before
bedtime. Gilding the lily!

In case one should feel a bit peckish after lunch and before cocktails today's High Tea
between three and four this afternoon is a Cupcake Tea. There are some teenagers on
board, all boys, so I'm sure they'll be willing to throw on a collared shirt and some shoes
for a cupcake or two. There's home schooling and then there's home schooling!

They're tweaking the satellite again, so no internet for a while. Although, once again
the personnel in charge of booking future cruises ALways can get a signal. We have
TV reception in the stateroom and so far the most consistent station received is Fox
News! CNN International comes and goes. Ditto ESPN International. There are a few
closed circuit channels so you can watch lectures and programs in your stateroom and
a camera on the bridge that streams the view ahead of us. There is also an information
page that tells our position, course, speed, wind direction, sea depth, distance from
the last port and to the next port as well as total nautical miles traveled so far. It's the
shipboard version of the Weather Channel.

Musings While Waiting to Weigh Anchor

General San Martin, Peru aka The Most Desolate Place On Earth
ms Amsterdam
January 16, 2013

We left the port of Callao, Peru about 5 pm yesterday for a leisurely run down the coast to General San Martin. Jim said when he opened the drapes this morning he was convinced he was looking at the surface of Mars. All you can see is reddish-brown dirt. This port is known for the winds that spring up every afternoon and cover everything and one with a coating of said dirt. One could venture to a small island off shore that is home to all kinds of birds, to an ancient fortress or take the shuttle to a "charming fishing village" which is code for nothing to look at, tour or buy. Or one could go find someone in one lounge or another and just shoot the breeze before one went to the early movie and a late lunch.

And that's how I met Ginger, originally from Chico, CA. Ginger is a character. She has red hair and sports a pin that reads, "Ginger, World Traveler." She knows she's bigger than life and owns it. AND she knows ALL the shipboard gossip which is why Penny, the lady I met days ago who lives across the bay from my childhood home in Newport Beach, was sitting with her. What Ginger didn't know, Penny did. I didn't recognize any of the names in their stories but made a silent resolution to BEhave so I wouldn't make the Ginger Gazette. Then Ginger began the round up of who had to leave the ship in Columbia (stroke), and who had to have a leg set in Ecuador, etc, etc. There is a doctor on board as well as a dentist, but if the ship is in port and a passenger is really sick they arrange for medical attention ashore. So I mused that I guessed with the age bracket and length of the trip it stood to reason that someone would get sick enough to get off. And that's when Ginger told me that they use the big flower frig down below for a morgue when the need arises. "Yup, they put 'em on ice down with the roses and orchids." And people kept asking me before we left, "Won't you be bored?"

Callao, Peru

Callao, Peru
ms Amsterdam
January 14, 2013

There are no flat roofs in Lima. All the roads in Lima are flat. There are no gutters on the houses or along the curbs. No one owns an umbrella. It doesn't rain in Lima. The only recordable precipitation is from the humidity in the air. The Humboldt Current flows up the coast of South America from Antarctica which keeps the sea cold, the coast foggy and the land arid.

It's a 45 minute drive from the port city of Callao (k+eye-yow) to Lima. Having never been there before we opted for a morning tour of the highlights of Lima guided by the charming Rocio aka Rosie. And having never been there before I was quite surprised to find an immense (10 million people, a third of the country's population) city with a small central "old city" surrounded by miles and miles of mostly low-rise buildings. This area is prone to earthquakes so all of the original structures are long gone, rebuilt multiple times. This little fact gives one pause while standing in the former refectory of the Convent of San Francisco and looking way, way up to see the missing ceiling (fell down), fractured frescoes (fell down) and replacement chairs (originals crushed by falling ceiling and frescoes). Being a native Southern Californian I've been well-taught to seek out the safe spot when entering any building in an earthquake zone. Not so easy in a building made of unreinforced brick, covered with "plaster" made from the local dirt.

Lima is made up of 40-something separate districts each with its own city hall, mayor, etc. with a single mayor to oversee it all. Right now that mayor is a woman, the first to hold the job. Quite obviously there are no zoning laws because every neighborhood seems to be a jumble of single homes, tiny restaurants, shops, apartment buildings, doctor's offices, schools and on and on. There are traffic police at every major intersection but mostly for show. Cars, motorbikes and little buses (24 passengers) are zooming, ignoring lane lines, traffic lights and afore mentioned police.

Education through high school is mandatory in Peru. This law applies to residents of Lima more than those in the country where the families are large and the eldest children are expected to drop out and help support the family. Summer vacation is January through the end of February. In Lima there are private, parochial and public schools with good and bad of each. Parents will sacrifice much to afford school fees for the best. Only high school graduates can hope for a government job with well-paying careers saved for college grads. The median income is about $1200-1800 US per month. There are definitely upper, middle and lower classes. The middle income lot seem to spread over most of the city with lovely enclaves for the rich and horrifying hillside shanty towns for the poorest. There is now health insurance for all children but the public insurance for adults provides for little actual health care. Any who can have private insurance, too. All the public hospitals are painted a bright blue. Because of the humidity the skies are never blue but rather a hazy, bluish gray so many of the public and private buildings are painted bright colors.

The Miraflores district of Lima is perched on the cliff overlooking the Pacific. It reminded us of Corona del Mar or Santa Monica where you can look down on the beach from the roads running along the cliffs above. It's a lovely area with major hotels and shopping on the land and throngs of surfers in the chilly water. Four o'Clocks and bougainvillea cover the hillsides. All of the flora are similar to that found from Santa Barbara to San Diego--bougainvillea, jacaranda, eucalyptus and acacia trees, lots of geraniums. Because of the lack of rain Lima is not the greenest of cities but the parks and street medians that are planted are all hand watered and look beautiful.

There are 43 Starbucks in Lima plus lots of McDonald's, Burger Kings, Pizza Huts and KFCs. And casinos! Everywhere! We have some tablemates at dinner who have vowed to play $20 in a casino in every country and/or on every continent. Hey, a goal's a goal! Peruvians love Chinese food and call the cuisine and restaurants Chifu. There is also a strong Italian influence in Lima. People in the city often say ciao instead of good bye.

So, ciao, amigos!

On The Equator

On the Equator
January 11, 2013
ms Amsterdam

We've been aboard almost a week now and this is truly the first free time I've had to myself and that's only because I've sequestered myself in our stateroom to write before I forget where we've been!

We're docked in Manta, Ecuador. Although we are less than one degree below the equator, Manta is a bit of a fluke. It's Ecuador's deep water port (all the big tuna boats and processing plants are here) but it's not that hot and not that humid; it is actually almost arid. Go ten miles up or down the coast though and you are in the jungle.

We took a morning tour to see a little and learn a little. It's one of those countries that has the resources but hasn't really developed the market. Jaime, our native guide who spent his teenage years in New Jersey and California, explained that they grow excellent bananas, plantains, pineapples and cocoa beans but not enough to provide a steady supply to buyers who therefore purchase elsewhere. The city looks pretty low profile with just the occasional multi-story building. Truth be told, it looks dusty and trashy and you probably won't ever see it featured on "House Hunters International!"

It's a quirky place. Construction seems to begin with concrete pillars around the perimeter of the shop or house but the finished building is not the height of the columns. I would say that most of the completed and occupied structures have one or more feet of column extending above the roof line and then another couple of feet of rebar sprouting from top of the column. It's just the oddest thing. I don't know how rebar is cut, but if you had that tool I believe you could make some dollars here.

And in fact the currency is US dollars. A decade or so ago inflation was out of control so the then-president closed the banks (LOTS of corruption here in finance and politics) one Friday, pegged the Ecuadorian currency to the US dollar and on Monday it was so. No namby-pamby congress got in his way! Of course they have had the occasional junta to spice it up. After one governmental overthrow they actually had three different presidents in as many days. Downright Italian of them.

Although we've been gone almost a week, Manta is only our second port of call. First was Cartagena, Columbia and then only for five or six hours. Contrary to what we read beforehand, Cartagena was quite pleasant. It's a mixture of the old town of narrow streets and brightly-colored, balconied two and three story buildings behind the original city wall and the new town of skyscrapers and commerce and taxis and motorbikes.  (Factoid: the motorcycle or scooter driver has his license plate number on the back of his helmet, too.) We climbed up the ramps to the fortress of Castillo de San Felipe de Barajas 135 feet above sea level that once guarded against pirates and other intruders. In past centuries fleets stopped in the harbor to load up gold for convoy to Spain. Cartagena also became a center for the Inquisition and a major slave market. Where once it was isolated from Columbia's interior, now it's a bustling city revitalized by the opening of the nearby petroleum fields. There are a number of big, modern, luxury hotels along the beaches and lots of tourists wandering about. However, it's a bit off-putting that every window on every house, shop, business and dog house is protected by wrought iron bars and most of the buildings are behind wrought iron fences and gates with the occasional gun-toting guard out front in case you didn't take the hint. The pirates may be gone but the bad guys are still lurking about.

In between we transited that Panama Canal. To tell the truth, I missed most of it. First of all, the day-long passage began pre-dawn. I'm talking 4:45 am pre-dawn. In my misspent youth I would have just stayed up the night before but that was long ago and far away. This time I slept through the Gatun Locks on the Atlantic side and was learning to water color as we went through the last locks on the Pacific side. In between I was desperately trying to post a blog alerting everyone to the webcam pictures streaming online. However, shipboard internet is both expensive and exasperating so I either posted it ten times or not at all. In between I did dash out on one of the decks to snap some pictures so at least I'd have photographic proof of the experience.

Fortunately the one place we've been before on this itinerary is the Panama Canal. Everyone else on board has been everywhere. OMG! These are intrepid cruisers. They spend months on ships every year; most have made multiple world cruises, never get seasick ("slight gale force" winds - the captain's exact words - and resultant seas between Cuba and Columbia) and all seem to know each other. And EVERYone knows Dolly. Dolly is not five feet tall, a very senior senior and more or less lives on this ship. Rumor has it that she has over 14,000 days at sea. Rumor also has it that the captain always takes her calls. Dolly has become my role model!

Our fellow cruisers are a mixed bag, probably 99% retired, from all over the world. Because they've cruised so much they have the drill down pat and seem to know every crew member, too. We're on board for 40 days disembarking in Sydney, but the entire trip is 115 days. (I met a lady yesterday who lives across the bay from my childhood home in Newport Beach. She hates to fly so she cruised from San Diego through the Canal to Fort Lauderdale to go on this trip. When this world cruise ends in Fort Lauderdale in April she will board another ship and go back through the Canal to San Diego. 145 days and no airplanes and no one bats an eye at this arrangement) It's one big extended family. The daily list of activities takes up an entire page, single spaced in 10 pt type. While I'm taking a water color class, Jim is at the movies (different one every afternoon with popcorn of course). They have a revolving stream of experts presenting programs (so far) on the Canal, Broadway musicals, stars of the Southern Hemisphere as well as cooking demonstrations, wine tastings, high tea plus dance, Tai Chi, yoga, pilates and Mah Jong, bridge and poker. There is also a group on board who gather every sea day at 10 am to knit and crochet blankets for the Linus Project. If you're bored on board it's your own damned fault.

And let me tell you, on a world cruise (even for those of us going on just part of the trip) every passenger is special. The waiters, busboys, bartenders and room stewards all know your name by Day Two, how you take your coffee, when you like your coffee, every dietary issue, do you want your laundered clothes folded or on hangars (I tell ya, I'd live on a ship for the laundry service alone!), green apples or red in your stateroom fruit bowl and on and on. And did I mention the gifts? Every other day or so when you head to your stateroom for the night (after dinner, music, show, etc) on the bed is the swag du jour! It's like you're six years old and can hardly wait to see what's in the gift bag from little Freddie's birthday party! So far we have received nifty totes, a zippered "Stay Healthy" bag of aspirin, bandaids, Purel, sunblock, etc., windbreaker jackets, lightweight backpacks, passport holders, stationery with our name and stateroom number and of course a chocolate on the pillow each night.

This is turning into an epic so I'll stop for now. Getting it to Blogspot is the next challenge. I'm composing this in our stateroom on the iPad document program. Now I will go to one of the wireless hot spots on the ship to email it to myself as a Word document. If all the planets are in a line I should be able to open that, copy and paste to the blog. If not I will forward the document to my dear son Jay who, bless his heart, will
do it for me.

We crossed the equator last night! It was dark so we couldn't see the line but we felt the bump.

And now it's off to Peru.

Wed, Jan 9 at 3 pm EST

Webcam alert:

go to pancam.com right now and you should see us going through the canal. White up top, dark blue almost black hull.

Panama Canal Transit Webcam

Panama Canal
Wednesday, January 9th

Sorry I didn't know about this earlier but there is a webcam live feed at http://www.pancanal.com. We're aboard the ms Amsterdam. Approx transit times are passing Gamboa at 11:45 am, arrive at Pedro Miguel Locks at 12:55 pm, arrive at Miraflores Locks at 2:15 pm, passing Balboa at 4:15 pm. All times are EST.