July 10, 1992--Learning To Snorkel

[While I enjoyed hiking, the snorkeling lesson given us by our son was the beginning of a love of exploring the beautiful world beneath the sea.]

Friday, July 10, 1992

              Dunk Island is covered with a rainforest. We walk the cool, slightly damp, wooded path two kilometers to the top of Mt. Kataloo. Looking down we can see clearly the surrounding reef areas through the crystal water.

              A two-man hobie cat provides an exciting sail around the bay area of the island. To finish a perfect afternoon, we sign out snorkeling gear and Rob gives us our first lesson in snorkeling.

              At first I fight the idea of breathing through a tube. I struggle to breathe. My natural inclination is to hold my breath. A swarm of small colorful fish swim beneath me and, lost in the beauty, I relax, breathe easily, and begin to enjoy the unusual surroundings. Suddenly the sand beneath me stirs and a small stingray skitters off. I never realized how colorful they are.

           

   Certainly God has blessed this place with a special beauty and grace, I think as we watch a glorious sunset together. In the stillness, it seems as if even the wind held its breath in awe.

 

July 9, 1992--Dunk Island

[Thanks to a wonderful Aussie lady who checked us into our small hotel after our Karunda visit, wediscovered that our reservations for the next couple of days had gone awry. She was concerned that we might not have reservations because of the busy holiday season and made sure to check for us. Sure enough our reservation for Fitzroy Island did not exist and we found ourselves spending the night wondering what we could do. Bob contacted the travel agency in California but we wouldn't find out until the morning that they had handled the situation. Now Dunk Island was supposed to be an upgrade. I don't remember why the transportation to the island wasn't but it was quite an adventure.]

Thursday, July 9, 1992

            Our original reservations to Fitzroy Island have changed and we are headed for Dunk Island resort. We drive to Mission Bay to take a water taxi to the island. Our taxi is a small motor boat that backs up to the sandy shore. We roll up our pant legs and wade through the water out to the boat, suitcases on our shoulders. A short trip across the channel to the island and our taxi backs up to the island beach.

              Gilligan’s island comes to mind as we wade through the water again to shore. The island vegetation is deep green with splashes of colorful flowers. It looks like an island paradise.

              Although the resort offers tennis, golf, two pools and countless other activities, we choose to relax on the beach after a short expedition to the gravesite of the Banfields, the original beachcombers.

[A little about the Banfields: Dunk Island has attracted world-wide attention since the end of the 19^th century thanks to E.J. Banfield and his novel Confessions of a Beachcomber. Given only six months to live, the editor of the Townsville Daily Bulletin longed for a more peaceful life. On his first visit to Dunk Island in 1886, Banfield was immediately taken by its pristine beauty and chose to live out his remaining days there. Banfield and his wife Bertha established a small farm that quickly became self-sufficient assisted by the Aboriginal inhabitants. Banfield defied his prognosis and lived for another 26 years. In 1908 he published his novel which quickly became world renowned, establishing Dunk Island as an exotic island paradise. Banfield passed away in 1923, his wife ten years later.]

July 8,1992--Train to Karunda

[We have been back to Karunda a couple of times. Cairns was a place to spend a couple of days before diving in Papua New Guinea. This first trip was less harrowing than when we drove ourselves up there. Sheer cliff on one side of the road. Whew!]

Wednesday, July 8, 1992

              We rise early to a beautiful day. Our tour bus drops us at an old railway station for breakfast. After eating, we board the Karunda Railway Train for a ride through the rain forest to Karunda, a small town at the top of the mountain bordering Cairns.

              At Karunda, we follow the itinerary given us, stopping first to peruse the flea market. Boomerangs, plush ‘roos and koalas, homemade jewelry, Australian opals and lots of t-shirts are available for reasonable prices. We do half of our souvenir shopping there.

              An older Aborigine is selling his boomerangs and offers to show us how to throw them. We step into a clearing across the road. He throws successfully a few times. When one is caught by the wind and does not return, he smiles at us and sends his dog after it.

              Bright colored butterflies flutter throughout the sanctuary and land on those visitors with pink or white shirts on.

              A troupe of Aborigine dancers entertain and inform a theater full of tourists with dance and music from hand crafted instruments. The dijerydoo player is fascinating. The instrument is a large hollow tube that seems to take a lot of lung power. The tones and sounds he makes are intriguing.

              Lunch time gives us an opportunity to taste a popular Aussie dish, pumpkin soup, as well as a variety of BBQ specialties.

              After a quick trip through the Noctarium, a museum of nocturnal animals, we board the coach (bus) for the trip down the mountain. We pass huge waterfalls and lush tropical growth. We stop on occasion to admire the view of sugar cane fields, the city of Cairns and the ocean beyond.

July 7, 1992--Climbing Ayers Rock

[Climbing Ayers Rock is no longer allowed. The reason is a combination of the damage being done and the fact that it is sacred ground for the Aborigines. Uluru or Ayers Rock is still a wonder to see and well worth a visit.]

Tuesday, July 7, 1992

              The challenge: to climb Ayers Rock. The bus drops us off at the base of the large flat topped rock rising 1260’ from the desert floor. From the side you can see the angle of the climb is 45-50 degrees. The only aid is a chain on poles driven into the hard, smooth rock surface but it only goes partially up the climb. There is no safety rail, no trees, nothing to break a fall. We learn five people have died falling from the Rock.

              The challenge is too great for me. I climb it halfway and make the mistake of looking down. The height is dizzying. I wave the boys on and I sit on my behind to scoot back down. At the base, I wait for the guys to finish their climb and get to know an Australian lady a little better. Rob and Bob return in about forty-five more minutes looking victorious, having recorded their names in the book at the top. The book was the only thing up there besides weary people and a spectacular view.

              We tour the base of the Rock, stopping to hear tales of the Aborigine tribes and view their painting on the walls in the cave like areas at the base.

              An hour later, we fly over the Rock and the desert below on our way back to the tropical area of Queensland and the Great Barrier Reef.

July 6, 1992--The Big Rock!

Ayers Rock (Uluru)

 [This was our first visit to Ayers Rock. We returned years later and had booked a sunset dinner. It was a rare occasion but we were "honored" as the tour guide explained when they canceled the dinner. We were among the few tourist ever to see the Rock in pouring rain. It was fascinating to see the waterfalls, etc. but I was really disappointed to miss our dinner. We did get a damp sunrise breakfast though.]

From my Australian journal:

Monday, July 6, 1992

The Olgas

              As the plane passes over the Australian countryside, we see the landscape becoming less green and more red. We are nearing the center of the country—Alice Springs and Ayers Rock.

              We begin our first tour quickly. The large sight seeing bus takes us out to the Olgas. They are a large cluster of huge rocks rising from the middle of the desert. All the earth tones you can imagine are before us—oranges, olives, buffs, browns, ochres. The land is flat. Red sand and greenish scrub surround the Olgas and Ayers Rock.

              We stop to watch the sunset against Ayers Rock. On a good night, the sunset causes the Rock to change colors. Tonight proves to be a bit too cloudy.

July 5, 1992--A Sunday Surprise

[You never know when we may show up no matter where in the world you live. This was a fun surprise.]

Sunday, July 5, 1992

              We surprise our friends who pastor a small church in Croyden Park, a suburb of Adelaide. We are asked to dinner (which I find out later was supplied by someone in the congregation who knew the pastor’s wife wouldn’t have cooked for more than two). While we are visiting, someone from the church calls and insists that we need to return in the evening. They have quickly planned a fellowship and are preparing the favorite Australian dessert—pavlova.

              The evening is filled with an exchange of culture. We learn so much more about the people than we would have as just tourists. The pavlova is scrumptious. Usually a meringue shell with a sweet creamy filling topped with strawberries, mango and kiwi. We discover there are many different versions of the dessert and we have to sample each of them. Thank goodness we aren’t asked which we like best. They were all good.

[My favorite pavlova is a meringue with a berry topping. I found an easy recipe for it on Allrecipes.https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/12126/easy-pavlova/]

July 4, 1992--Kangaroos, Koalas, Emus, Oh My!

[Continuing my journal from our trip to Australia in 1992]

Saturday, July 4, 1992

As we drive southeast to Victor Harbor, we listen to news reports on the radio about Americans gathering for a fireworks and Fourth of July celebration. Apparently there is a large population of Americans in Australia.

              We have heard that this is the time for whale watching at Victor Harbor and a whale was sighted three days before but there is nothing for us to see. We walk out to Granite Island and explore. An Aussie family tell us to watch for droppings on the rocks and then look in the cracks and we will see the penguins. To our delight, we find the little critters nestled in a pile of rocks, one eye peeking out at us.

              The ocean is beautiful crashing against one side of the island. We look out in the direction of Antarctica. It is breezy and cooler here but light jackets keep us warm even though it is winter.

              The countryside on our way back is rocky and hilly, predominantly filled with sheep and dairy farms. We become aware of the eucalyptus trees.

              Hahndorf, the first German settlement in Australia, seems like a good place for lunch. I laugh. We have come half way around the world to Australia to eat German food.

              Just outside of Adelaide we stop at the Cleland Conservation Park. On our way in we buy bags of food to feed the kangaroos and emus. To our delight and surprise, the kangaroos are not the least bit bothered by us. To the contrary. They hop right up and put their forepaws around my waist to beg for food. They are gentle with us but we see some of them scrap with each other. The emus are like ostriches and stand tall enough to look us right in the eye.

              In another section of the park we get to handle a koala. He is every bit as cute as his stuffed polyester version at home.

              I fall asleep listening to Rob and Bob watching TV trying to figure out net ball, the Australian version of basketball.

Tyler's Commencement

Commencement.

While commencement is mostly thought of as the ceremony of conferring degrees on those who have completed their studies, the number one definition for the word is:

              noun

1.       A beginning or start

We were out scuba diving at the commencement of your life, Tyler. We didn’t realize how significant that would be eleven years later when you would begin diving with us. Back in those days (does that make you feel old?) we relied on email and fax. Your dad emailed us that birth picture and we fell in love with our first grandson.

As you grew and matured, so many memories were made. We watched you stand and giggle while the golden you had then licked pizza off your face. The vocabulary and amazing way you used it in those preschool years gave us pause to wonder what was to come. Your Lego skills grew as much as your collection of pieces.

Most precious will always be those weeks we spent diving. It was a chance to grow with you, to see you challenge yourself and win over your fears. Not only that but it was an opportunity to explore a whole new beautiful world together with you.

Needless to say your academic achievements have been enormous but more than that they have come with a maturity that has made you a most remarkable young man. Your tender heart and soft uplifting humor are a gift to us all and will be to everyone you meet.

This end to your school career has not been the one we all looked forward to as the traditional celebration of academic achievement but it is unique, as unique as you are. And really, commencement is not all about the receiving of a diploma. It is a new beginning, a start to a new chapter in your life. There will be many commencements in the future, new starts, new beginnings. Life is full of them. Embrace each one with the same courage and hope that you have this one. We are excited for you!

With much love, Grandma and Grandpa

July 3, 1992--On To Adelaide

[Bob has gotten quite adept at driving on the left side of the road since '92. We've been to several other countries where he has been challenged.]

Friday, July 3, 1992

              A quiet and gentle rain falls as we leave the Colonial Club to begin our trip by air to Adelaide in South Australia. As we land in Sydney to change planes, we can see the opera house that has become so famous. I wonder if we have made a mistake not including the large cities in our tour.

              At the airport in Adelaide, we rent a car—steering wheel on the right. We ad a new phrase to our conversation, “Turn right, remembering to keep left.” Bob does fine and we make it to the hotel in one piece.

              We explore a portion of Adelaide, a smaller city than Sydney (pop. 900,000) but one of the largest Rob has seen since leaving home. We eat at Hungry Jack’s (Burger King). Rob tells us something about BK not being able to use the word King in their name here.

              On the return to our hotel, we pass the old train station which has been renovated and made into a casino. We try to enter to look around but this is not like Vegas. We are not dressed well enough to be allowed in. We have jeans on.

July 2, 1992--Hello Australia!

[Today we have Facetime to see that our son, Drew, who is in Japan is doing well. Back in '92 we only had long distance phone calls--not ideal. It was so good to see Rob in person.]

A familiar face beams a favorite smile at me as we exit the customs area at the Cairns Airport in Australia. It has been four months since Rob left home to begin his year of study at the James Cook University in Townsville. We are greeted with “G’day” by his friend and her father who have brought Rob to the airport to meet us.

              It was ten hours in the air on leaving Hawaii June 30 to arriving in Cairns. It is now 5 AM Australian time on July 2. July 1 lasted about two hours for us before we crossed the International Dateline. Time will be confusing for a while.

              We await our shuttle van to the resort area and watch a glorious red sunrise. Even though this is the winter season, the air is warm and fragrant. We are in the northern area of Australia called Queensland. Opposite of the United States which is in the northern hemisphere, Australia, in the southern hemisphere, gets warmer the farther north you go.

              Arriving at the resort area, we check our luggage with the concierge since our rooms will not be ready until 2 PM. The lobby area is bustling with tour groups being organized. Safari wagons and buses to the rain forest and to large catamarans that take groups out to the Great Barrier Reef line up for the tourists who are on a holiday (vacation). This is a time for school holidays which is why Rob will be free to travel with us for the next two weeks.

              We decide to eat breakfast and find a delightful buffet of fruits (some recognizable others that look like a new experience for us), cereals including rice bubbles (Rice Krispies), coffee, toast and Vegemite.

              Vegemite is the Australian answer to peanut butter. Rob has warned us about it but we need to try it for ourselves. It says on the label “a yeast extract”. I don’t know what they extracted but it is brown, slightly gooey, strangely smelling (not like yeast), and has a semi-bitter taste that makes you want to shiver. Well, we tried it.

              A resort bus takes us to downtown Cairns, a quaint, tropical looking town. One and two story buildings mostly except for the large hotels. The colors are all white, buff or pastel. Palm trees and tropical foliage abound. There is a harbor area where large catamarans, cruising boats and sailboats are leaving to spend the day at the reef. We watch excitedly knowing we will be doing the same in a few days.

              We find a small cruising boat that offers an afternoon cruise of the river and creeks in Cairns and provides lunch. The Terry Too takes us past the shipping area of Cairns and begins hunting the creeks for crocs (crocodiles). Our captain assures us that once the tide goes down, the creatures will come out to sun themselves on the mudbanks. In the meantime, we enjoy a lunch of chicken and prawns.

              Sure enough, on our way back to the harbor, we find a medium sized crocodile sunning himself on a mudbank. He even lifts his head a moment reassuring us that he is real.

              The Colonial Club resort is made up of strips of single rooms which surround two pools and lush tropical gardens. We decide to dine at their new restaurant, Jardine’s. “A bit too fancy for me,” one Aussie told us. But we enjoy the leisure dining and the opportunity to catch up with Rob’s life.

June 29, 1992--Remembering Pearl Harbor

 [This remains one of the most profound moments in all of our travel experiences. For a little nicer story I wrote about it you might want to read: In Living Tribute]

Monday, June 29, 1992

              Pearl Harbor. It has always held intrigue and mystery for me. We visit the submarine Bowfin while we await our time for the visit to the Arizona. The Bowfin is a World War II sub. It amazes us that men could have operated in the cramped quarters let alone lived in them and then to imagine being below the surface of the sea. . . .

              At the prescribed time, we enter a theater to view an informational movie about the attack on Pearl Harbor. As we sit with busloads of Japanese tourists who have just arrived from the airport, still wearing their fresh leis, we listen to the park ranger speak reverently of the monument we are about to visit.

              Discomfort sets in as I watch the movie explain the Japanese plot to attack the American naval base. Sitting in the middle of Japanese tourists, I watch the old movie clips of the bombing, the destruction, the loss of life. Emotions rise in me that I never knew were there. What do “they” feel? Why are “they” here? This is our memorial. I chide myself. It was our fathers and grandfathers who fought this war, not us. This was not our war. The thoughts help a little.

              It is a silent group of people that we leave with to board the small naval boat that will take us out to the USS Arizona. Obviously we have all been touched somehow. On the boat trip we are again told that this is a memorial and we should be respectful of that. Nothing except flowers may be thrown into the water.

              In the memorial itself, I look out over the base of gun turret #3 that is the only part of the ship rising above the water. A buoy marks the end of the bow and another, the stern. Through the clear water I can see the silent tomb below. As I stand, lost in thought, I am suddenly aware again of the Japanese with us. Each is removing the flower lei from their neck and dropping it in the water. Even the little children, without hesitation, are giving up their adornment. Quietly the pastel colored rings of flowers float out over the length of the ship. I brush away a tear. What a touching tribute they have given. My heart warms again.

              We drive and explore more of Oahu, finding an underwater preserve where many are snorkeling and diving. It is actually the base of a volcanic crater. One side has been broken through by the sea. We walk down the steep road to the beach but opt for a trolly ride back up.

              The Benihana is a Japanese steak house. Our companion diners around the table are two brothers from Minnesota just beginning their vacation in the Hawaiian Islands. Their itinerary includes snorkeling, a few nights on Maui, a luau, a helicopter trip over the big island of Hawaii to see the volcanoes, and a deep sea fishing trip. I am almost envious not knowing exactly what lies ahead for us in Australia.

              Bob and I stroll the little shopping mall in the Hilton Hawaiian Village at Waikiki after dinner. We are inside the lobby without even realizing it. There is almost no demarcation between inside and outside. Is the weather always so perfect that they never need protecting walls and doors?

              The sun is beginning to set. This will be our last leisurely evening in Honolulu. I begin to feel nostalgic. Then as if tempting, beckoning us to stay, the sunset bursts forth with a brilliant sensation of yellows, golds, oranges, pinks, reds, purples, all as a backdrop to the black silhouettes of palms on the beach. I am standing in the middle of a postcard—this cannot ne real. But it is. I whisper a quiet “Aloha.”

June 28, 1992--A Little Paradise

[Our goal in stopping in Hawaii on our way to Australia to see our son was to hopefully cut the jet lag a little bit. I loved our time there.]

Journal Entry: Sunday, June 28, 1992

            The skeptic in me has been cured. With the morning comes a beautiful day. Hawaii is truly the paradise people have tried to describe. We eat breakfast outdoors on the restaurant terrace. A warm gentle breeze filled with the freshness of the ocean air makes it seem like a dream that we are here.

              We begin our day with a trip to Diamond Head. Inside the crater, across from the small military installation, we find the beginning to the trail that leads to the top. Signs warn of a steep climb and the need to be in decent physical shape. The trail starts up and bends back and forth. A good breeze cools us every so often but our body temperature is definitely rising from the exertion. About the time we feel we are getting close, a wall of steps appears in front of us. I call “Time out.”

              What an exercise but worth the effort. The ocean is so blue. The sky clear. The city of Honolulu stretches before us. The mountains rise up behind it. Lush greens with patches of bright purples, reds, pinks and yellows are everywhere. We descend, a feeling of triumph from the conquest and renewal from the natural splendor of the view.

              The sun warms us as we drive the scenic road in a little red Mustang convertible. A Hawaiian tan would be nice. We head for Waimea Falls Park at the north end of Oahu. The park is actually a botanical garden. We see giant stems of ginger, heliconia and other large flowering tropicals. Many plants are endangered species being nurtured through the park’s program of conservation.

              Inside the park we see a short program of hula dancers and sit beside the waterfall to watch the cliff divers as they soar through the air dangerously close to the jagged rocks before disappearing into the pool of dark water below.

              We drive the shoreline along the east side of the island enjoying the views of the mountains, the ocean and sugar cane and pineapple fields. We arrive at the Hilton Kahala where we decided to spend the next two nights. It is away from the congestion of Waikiki. Our room looks out over a golf course in one direction and a glimpse of the ocean from the corner window.

              We dine in an open air restaurant partaking of the large variety of seafood offered at their buffet. I courageously sample sushi for the first time. We sip our coffee as dusk fails and the torches along the beach are lit. The strains of Hawaiian music softly float through the air to mix with the gentle rush of the waves touching the beach. Truly feeling like we are in paradise.

              Tired, we return to our room to find the bed turned down and, in place of the usual mint on the pillow, a fresh cut pineapple on the nightstand.

June 27,1992--The Adventure Begins

In 1992, our son Rob became an exchange student at James Cook University in Townsville, Australia. It was not easy for his father and me to let him travel halfway around the world (and to a different hemisphere) but we tried not to let it show too much. It was however the perfect excuse for our first trip to Australia. After all, we had to check up on him and besides, he needed to take advantage of being there to see a little more of the country.

We mapped out a tour with a company in California that specialized in Australian tours and they did most of the booking and scheduling for us. We were not yet seasoned travelers but you could say this was a first step to becoming so.

Now 28 years ago, I was a lot better at journaling than I am today--except for keeping my blog now. As I was doing some COVID cleaning (another name for spring cleaning) I came across my handwritten journal. It was a pleasant surprise and since there is no travel in the near future, I thought I would share that memorable trip here and reminisce. I do apologize for the pictures. We weren't digital yet.

June 27, 1992

              We arrive in Honolulu late, 11 PM. It is raining but not really rain. More a misty wetness. It is very warm and humid. We drive to our hotel, the Hyatt on Waikiki Beach. Bob has earned a free night for us with his travel points. We walk up a few steps and into a mall area and suddenly realize we are in an open air lobby. Immediately I notice beautiful large floral arrangements of ginger, anthurium, orchids and tropical foliage. Gratefully we accept our key and find our room. It has been a long day of travel.

No More Middle Plane Seats?

Maybe for now but I wouldn't count on it for the future. Too many dollars would be lost and/or the price of a plane ticket would skyrocket because they wouldn't be filling the planes to capacity. I know. I sound pessimistic but with the economy as it is right now and the airlines taking a hit, they are going to have to do something to survive and that usually involves higher ticket prices.

Perhaps the good things that may come from all of this "unprecedented" time (I hate that overused phrase) is a better and more diligent cleaning of the planes. That would be very welcome.

Of course it will be interesting to see which airlines survive all of this and how innovative they get in competing for the trickle of passengers. Business travel should pick up a bit as countries are beginning to open up again. I'm not so sure about travel for pleasure. The big question will be how much will travelers who don't need to fly will trust the safety and cleanliness of the airplanes?

So much speculation. Where are all those quality crystal balls?

Remembering Another Difficult Time in History

For many reasons I've been thinking of my mother lately. With our stay-at-home life I've started working again on a project of hers that I inherited and want to finish before my kids end up inheriting it. Mom always seemed to go overboard in the things she did for us. If I liked one sweater she bought me two--one in each color. Meals were always more than we could finish. This project, quilts for all her grandkids (at the start, six, but became eight before she could finish one), was way bigger than she could accomplish. I know because I was always finishing up projects she would start and not finish.

As I think back now with a lot more hindsight and maturity, I realize that all of this overabundance of things, projects, purchases, food, was probably a result of her childhood. Growing up during the Great Depression was an overwhelming challenge at times. As one of seven children, she wore mended clothes until they could not longer hold together with mends. Food on the table was not always a guarantee. Entertainment was whatever they could create on their own.

While our COVID 19 period can in no way compare to the years of desperate times back in the late 20s and early 30s, I can't help but wonder what stories our children will share about this time in their history. Hopefully they will be of perseverance, sharing, caring, and learning to love each other.

Unfortunately, as with all children, I did not listen as well to my mother's stories as I wish now I had. Some of them stuck though and I wove them into the novel that I dedicated to my mother. The novel does not follow her life but is enriched by the stories of her childhood. Ruby, A Novel, is now on sale at Amazon in the Kindle store for 99 cents and the paperback is reduced to $9.99. It
may be a little longer before we all emerge again from our confinements so perhaps you can enjoy another book.

Wordless Wednesday

Help! I'm Caught In The Middle Of A Book Series!

It's my own fault. I admit it. I enjoyed an Anne Perry historical novel so much about a young barrister in London that I decided to start at the beginning of the series that preceded him. Perry wrote a whole series based on the young man's parents. Little did I know when I started the first book and got involved with the characters and the setting and of course the mystery that it was going to be a long trail to follow.

The Charlotte and Thomas Pitt series I discovered midway through the fourth book is 36 books! I am currently on number 13--not even half way, and I can't stop. I have fallen in love with the era and the characters. Charlotte is a bit of a rebel in a very structured and prim London society. She married beneath her when she fell in love with Thomas. Thomas is an inspector with the police department and Charlotte (and her sister who married above her station) often get into his cases and help him with the solutions.

I've become so involved in the stories that I can't help but smile when some things happen to the characters and then say, "Oh no, Charlotte, you wouldn't" when she gets herself into situations. The murder mysteries are always quite different. I can't imagine how Perry comes up with so many different scenarios and plots. Book #12 had me going and ended with quite a surprise.

Looking for some reading indulgence? With real travel curtailed, we can at least travel back in time and to another place. I'd recommend Perry's series for the stories and the characters. On occasion, I find a few writing faults but it doesn't take away from the adventure

Where Have All The Cruise Ships Gone?

Now that all the cruises at sea during the COVID outbreak have finally ended and cruises in the near future are cancelled, what have the cruise lines done with all of their ships?

Ports like Miami and Fort Lauderdale that are home ports to so many meaning that is where many cruises begin and end are full. Many of the cruise lines have reduced their crews to a bare minimum and a lot have positioned them in the Bahamas where their private islands are. As one blog put it, the crew can at least have some free time on the islands.

One of the last ships to put into port was the Queen Mary 2 who had to end their world cruise early. Most passengers disembarked in Australia but a small number who were unable to fly home due to medical conditions stayed onboard as the ship made its way back home to Southampton. It is now spending time in its home port along with another ship, the Queen Victoria. The third ship of the line, the Queen Elizabeth is sheltering in Asia until cruises can again resume. There is quite a nice video on the Cunard.com site from the president of Cunard, Simon Palethorpe. 

Many cruise lines are posting videos of favorite ship entertainers, cooking lessons, etc. to keep their loyal cruisers informed as well as entertained and certainly fueling their desire to return as soon as possible to the cruise life we enjoy. If you'd like to see some of them go to FaceBook and like the pages of your favorite cruise lines or check their blogs from their websites.

The question is, how different will it be? Will there be a reduction in the number of passengers? Social distancing? Masks? Certainly the habits of hand sanitizing  will continue as well as the thorough cleaning of rooms and public areas. I trust that the powers that be are even now planning how they can best serve their passengers.

There is a neat site called CruiseMapper.com if you would like to track the cruise ships once they start moving again.

Through My Lens -- Spring Thaw

I was a little bored this day. At least it was better than watching water boil on the stove. *smiles*

Wordless Wednesday

Credit Limit--A Short Story

[This is a fun little story that was inspired by my stint as a florist.]                                                             
  CREDIT LIMIT

Jack Griggs couldn’t believe his good luck. It was a sign, surely a sign. He had finally turned a corner in life. Good fortune smiled on him. It was the shiny red plastic sticking out from the folded paper that caught his eye. He almost passed it by assuming it to be just another piece of litter on the city streets. Red was his favorite color. It piqued his curiosity. Stooping to pick it up, he immediately recognized the litter as a credit card receipt wrapped around the credit card itself. It was just ten in the morning and the day was immediately promising despite the cloudy skies. Here was his silver lining.

It was amazing how a little find like this could lighten your step and put a whistle on your lips. Jack ducked into a Starbuck’s a few doors down to contemplate his good fortune and plan the rest of his day.

“What can I get for you?” the counter girl asked as he perused the menu of specialty coffees.

“I’ll have a latte,” he said. His hand explored the credit card in his pocket. He could feel the raised numbers. “You know, it’s such a great day, I think I’ll treat myself to one of those big cinnamon rolls too,” he added.

Jack found a seat in the corner to examine his found treasure. Normally, he would rummage through trash cans for carbons or slip a wallet out of a pocket or purse to get hold of a little credit to supply him with the necessities of life, but today it had been right there in front of him on the sidewalk.

Jack was always careful not to take any credit from the customers he met at the garage where he parked cars all evening for a living. A living. That was a laugh. The money he made barely allowed for a roof over his head and food in his belly.

There were other necessities of life just as important. Necessities that added to the quality of life such as a new stereo system, a lounge chair, a microwave (an absolute “gotta have” for a bachelor), some great jewelry and a few other wants and desires not affordable on his income. Jack was very conscientious about his credit spending. Each time he used someone’s plastic, he was careful to keep a low limit to his new credit line. Rule number one, he never assumed there would be more than a thousand left on any credit card account. He’d made that mistake once and was sure he’d been caught when the credit card was denied. And, rule number two, he got his shopping done quickly, before the card could be reported stolen or the bank catch on to unusual activity. He didn’t worry about the owners of the cards. After all, he figured, his “gifted” credit was covered by insurance through the bank. Banks and insurance companies had plenty of money to throw around.

This find was such incredible luck. As Jack examined the receipt, he noticed the buyer had filled in his address and phone number. Here was all the information he needed for identification. The receipt showed today’s date so the card was probably not missed yet. The stores had opened less than a half hour ago. If he hustled, he could get that new entertainment center he needed for the stereo system and maybe a new TV to boot. That might stretch his limit a bit, but, hey, this was his lucky day. He’d take a chance. He drained his cup and headed off for an electronics store in a neighboring town.

Jack arrived at his apartment around lunchtime. He unloaded the entertainment center and new TV from his pickup and fixed himself a sandwich. Between bites of bologna and swigs of beer, he set up the speakers, receiver, CD player and the new TV.  With a second beer in his hand, he relaxed in his lounger and snapped on the TV with a push of a button on the remote. Ah, life is beautiful, he thought.

The remote control in his hand gave him a new sense of power. Flipping through the channels, he suddenly came upon a ridiculous looking bee with bunches of flowers in his hand. He pointed the remote, ready to click again, but stopped, intrigued by the message coming from the oversized yellow and black insect. Sunday was Mother’s Day.

Jack thought about his mom who was half way across the country from him. She was the one who had given him his education on credit cards. All through his high school years, she had worked for a credit card company in the department that dealt with stolen cards and card numbers. It was just the two of them at home. She had shared her work stories with him each night at dinner. Ma had always insisted he be home for dinner each night. His friends had razzed him relentlessly about that, but now he was glad he’d been home. Ma didn’t realize what valuable information she had imparted.

Sure, why not send Ma some flowers? Maybe then she’ll believe I’m really doing all right. He picked up the phone book and searched for a florist across town and in a different zip from the one listed on the credit card receipt in his hand. He dialed the number and got a cheerful, “Flowers by Chris. How can I help you?”

“I’d like to order flowers for my mother. It says in the phone book you wire them. Will she get them today?” He had never sent flowers before and felt a little stupid asking.

“We can call a florist in that area and see if they have a truck going out late this afternoon. If not, they will take them tomorrow and she’ll still have them in time for Mother’s Day.”

“O.K. Can we send that special arrangement with the teapot like in the TV ad?”

“Luckily you called early enough. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Jack gave his mother’s address and phone number. “Just sign the card, ‘your son’.”

“Will you be putting this on a credit card?” the florist asked.

“Yes,” replied Jack reaching for the credit card and receipt. He recited the numbers.

“I also need your zip code and phone number for verification.”

Yessir, it was his lucky day. He had those.

“Excuse me a moment, please.” The voice disappeared for an uncomfortable period of time. Maybe he’d reached the limit on the card. Jack was almost ready to hang up when she returned. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I had to make sure I was right. We have a special contest going on at the shop promoting Mother’s Day and you have won. You are the 25^th person to order the teapot arrangement. If you can come in to the shop, we’ll give you certificates to a free dinner for you and your mother at Chez Restaurant. Of course, if your mom’s out of town you can always take someone else. Can you come in today to pick them up?”

Wow, Jack thought, the luck goes on. Chez was a classy place. What could it hurt? If I get there as soon as possible, everything should be O.K. The card is still working. If it wasn’t, they would have refused my order. “I can be there in about an hour. Thanks.”

“What is your name?”

He didn’t like having to give a name. What should he tell her? He looked at the name on the card, “Wilson, Chuck Wilson..”

Jack arrived at the florist shop an hour later. It was a little store in a strip mall. There was only one girl behind the counter and a man looking through a picture book of arrangements. Probably ordering flowers for his mother, Jack thought.

“Can I help you?” the girl said looking up from her order pad.

“Sure. I called in an order this noon and you told me I’d won dinner out.” Jack beamed. No, there was no limit to his luck today. The girl looked at the man who suddenly closed the book in front of him. He turned to Jack smiling as though someone had told a joke. Jack felt like he’d missed the punch line.

“Let me introduce myself,” he said, “I’m Chuck Wilson, Detective Chuck Wilson.” Two men in uniform appeared from a door behind him.

Jack stood, mouth half open, as the florist explained, “Detective Wilson is a good customer of ours and realized his credit card was missing when he came in to order flowers for his mother this morning. When you gave me the zip and phone number, I recognized it as his. I phoned him when you said you’d come in to pick up your Chez certificates.”

“Guess it’s my lucky day. We weren’t certain you’d show up.” Wilson smiled. “I would have hated to call your mother and ask her how she enjoyed her Mother’s Day flowers that were purchased with a stolen credit card.”

“What about the certificates?” Jack asked the florist and realizing what a stupid question that was the moment it was out of his mouth. It didn’t look like he’d be able to use them now.

“I just made that up. There was no contest,” the florist said sweetly.

As they handcuffed him, Detective Wilson noted, “By the way, you maxed the card out with your flower purchase.” Jack grinned sardonically. Not only had his luck run out, he’d reached his credit limit too. He wondered though, would a mother have turned in a son who sent her flowers for Mother’s Day? 

Through My Lens -- Spring Walk

Pandemic Lessons

Yes. It's a new world. How are you adjusting? I'd like to say I've adjusted well but I'm still a work in progress. This all started while we were still in Florida so the first few weeks for us were not too bad. We could get out in the nice weather and there was even Pickleball still being played although between games we were socially distancing.

The anxiety grew though. As word that Ohio was closing down and more states were considering it, we wondered what the trip home might be like. Would we even be able to travel home? Suddenly, Northeast Ohio weather aside, home was looking good. And once we made it home, there was a sense of relief despite all the changes created by COVID. Lesson One: home is a good place to be in a crisis.

Once we were stocked up on food and yes, I even managed to find a few packages of TP, we hunkered down. While thoughts of places to go and people to see crossed our minds, we realized that those activities that were so near and dear were not going to happen. Lesson Two: friends are precious.

Lesson Three: routine is good but needs variety. When Bob retired we settled into a new routine and now we find ourselves searching for a few adjustments that fit in with the new normal we are all living in. We look for ways to keep that routine interesting. Finding a time slot for at least one walk a day (not always easy when the weather turns nasty as it does around here in spring). Looking for new places to walk--we have some great parks in our area. Going for a drive just to be out. Playing lots of Hand and Foot--our favorite card game. Going out for lunch at a fast food drive thru and eating in the parking lot.

Grocery shopping has always been a chore for me. Yes, I've said it many times. "I'd rather stay home and clean toilets." Lesson Four: shopping for groceries may not be so bad after all even with a mask on. It's a little contact with others albeit from a distance.

Lesson Five: reading while tuning into the Easy Listening channel on the TV is relaxing. I think I may have known this from childhood though. I've always been a reader. In a normal year I read between 30-45 books. I'm already up to 21 and we're only about a third of the way through the year. Of course the reading and relaxing hasn't done much for my writing and my blogging but maybe that's beginning to fall into routine as well.

Lesson Six: Worship, praise, and prayer are essential and can be very creative. We tune into two worship services each Sunday--our home church and our home church away from home in Florida. There's also coffee twice a week with the pastor from Florida and when Easter morning was cold, rainy and cloudy here, we were able to watch the sunrise service on the Florida shore. We even got a brief look at the sunrise service of a third church whose pastor was live on FB from a graveyard. Lots of creative ways have given us inspiration and hope through Zoom choirs and social media.

I'm sure there are more lessons that I could list but as I sit here and watch the snow fall in a mid-April change in the weather, I wonder, what lessons have you learned?

On Sale For The Paperback Readers!

For those who like to hold a book in their hands the price of the paperback editions of Fort Lonesome are reduced. The regular sized copy is now $9.99 (reduced from $12.99).

If you know someone who needs large print and doesn't like the Kindle which can increase the print size, the large print copy of Fort Lonesome is now $10.99 (reduced from $12.99--the best Amazon will let me do on that one).

Here's the back copy:
Ginnie Scott looked forward to the beginning of a new life in Fort Lonesome. She felt a new sense of freedom leaving behind the parents she had so deeply disappointed. She was starting fresh as a preschool teacher where no one knew her past. Little did she expect that the past would catch up with her.

Grant Richards’ life has been through some deep valleys. Just as he thought his heart might mend from the loss of his wife, Becca, he has to cope with his daughter’s perilous brain tumor. Then Bonnie’s new preschool teacher arrives to throw his life into more turmoil. Is she Becca’s ghost? The resemblance is uncanny.

Martin Westfall ruined Ginnie’s life with his rash promises and failures to fulfil them. He’s found her again and this time he won’t let anything come between them, not even a little girl and her cowboy father.

Fort Lonesome, Florida, is classified as a ghost town but the only ghosts in town are the ghosts of the past that come into Grant and Ginnie’s lives. Will those ghosts bring the two together? Possibly, but only if they can overcome their fears and find the hope they need for the future.

For a list of my other books go to my Amazon.com Author Page.

Stay safe everyone and stay home with a good read!!

Day Three Traveling Home

At last we were on the home stretch. A little more than six hours and we would be home. It wasn't long before we were in the Virginia mountains and the sun was shining beautifully. I decided I didn't want to see another egg Mcmuffin for a while though.

Virginia, West Virginiia and then we were at the Ohio border. Our son had teased us that we would have to pay a toll of two rolls of TP in order to cross the bridge over the Ohio River. There were no toll takers.

The day was pretty much like the other two. Finding restrooms at Loves or Pilots and getting food at whatever fast food place was attached.

The only thing that didn't quite work out was my timing of the audio book. We had about 40 minutes left when we arrived. Home. Not a big problem. We listened to the rest of it as we drove around to pick up our mail and get some groceries. I was happy to see shelves stocked just a little better than down in the Keys. Still no TP and cleaning supplies but I had enough of that at home thank goodness.

It's good to be home. We miss the sun and the weather where we could get out a bit more but spring is breaking out all over here and I didn't miss seeing my daffodils bloom. Can the lilacs be far behind? We will all survive this.

Day Two Traveling Home Despite COVID-19

The Hampton Inn did not have a breakfast buffet but they did offer a carry out bag. Since there was no coffee, we opted to go to the McDonald's we knew was just up the road on our way. We used the mobile app again and were pleased that they carried it out to our car (with gloved hands).

Once we caught up on the morning news and reached the highway, we plugged in our audio book and were off again.

Rest stops were made at places like Love's and Pilot's where we were certain to get inside. Usually they had an attached fast food place either in a drive through or carry out. Our lunch stop was interesting at an Wendy's attached to a gas station. They had squares marked off and numbered that were six feet apart and numbered so you moved up as people left being sure to keep only 10 people in the place at a time.

A good book. A mostly sunny day. It was a pleasant drive with only the reminder of the crisis we were in when we made stops.

Around 3:30 we pulled into our Hampton Inn in Dobson, NC. This night was going to be a little more of a challenge since we didn't have a suite and all the tables and chairs in the lobby area had been removed. We were able to order from our favorite restaurant, The Harvest Grill, and they delivered to the hotel.

We pulled the desk over to the end of the bed and ate there. It was comfy. Dinner was good but way too much to eat. We took our leftovers out to a trash can outside so it wouldn't smell in the room. Since there was not brewed coffee in the hotel, we opted to drive to the McDonald's in town for our decaf nightcap.

On the way back, Bob stopped at the DQ for a sundae. I went into the little convenient store next to it to get something to go with my coffee and commiserated with the lady who seemed a little nervous about having to work with people coming and going. She complained about a lady who had been in and was coughing all over the place.

After Bob filled up on gas again, we spent a comfortable night and we on our way early the next morning--seeking a McDonald's for breakfast and that all important coffee again.

Wordless Wednesday