…because, in the words of Meat Loaf’s crazy song from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, we went to bed on Friday night and woke up on Sunday morning, thereby deleting forever Saturday, October 15th 2016 from our lives. It wasn’t so bad for us, just another day, and we had been putting our clocks back every other night all the way across the Pacific, but in the room next to us, a Canadian couple should have celebrated their Golden Wedding anniversary on that very day!
Five days later, as we docked in Pago Pago, American Samoa, the ship was met by a couple of screaming ambulances, and sticky-beaking from our veranda, we saw two stretchers taken on board. About ten minutes later a woman was stretchered out, paperwork resting on her lap, into the ambulance and whisked away, sirens blaring. We never found out what happened to her, or to the other stretcher, or whether she stayed on the island in hospital or was flown home from there. Best not to ask, as we seriously reckoned that on a long cruise like this – originating from Vancouver, Canada – the on-board morgue was more than likely half full by now!
We finally left American shores as we sailed out of Pago Pago – a bit of a lacklustre place, but the natives we met were friendly, and we took a taxi ride along the coast line of this tropical island, littered with churches of all denominations. Unlike its sister Island, Western Samoa, it has not been developed as a tourist destination. But it was devastated by a tsunami caused by a powerful submarine earthquake in 2009 that rolled along the ocean gaining momentum like an unstoppable express train, apparently delivering a 25-ft wave to its shoreline in the early morning, silently engulfing sleeping residents, homes, schools and anything else in its deadly path. Bewilderingly, much of the affected area has not yet been re-built.
And so on to Suva, Fiji – well remembered from an earlier cruise as being a rather dreary city, with not much offered excursion-wise more than we’d seen before. So we holed up at the best hotel in town for the day, took over a desk in their business centre and wallowed in the luxury of all-day free internet connections (in between morning coffee, lunch and tea!) as well as the stunning ocean-front views and tropical gardens. On our way back to the ship, the heavens opened, the heavy downpour dampening our shopping trip and soaking our clothes and shoes. We eventually thanked the Lord for the sanctuary of our floating home!
From then on, Islands were coming up fast and furious. Next in line a delightful stop by tender at a small Fijian island called Dravuni where the water was warm and clear and the swimming and snorkelling was good. A couple of days later we re-visited Port Vila in Vanuatu, and once again, based ourselves at a lovely resort on an island not far from the shore. We did the predictable bit of shopping as well as paying a visit to the local post office where we posted another four postcards to our grandchildren. Although Red Bear has been ours and their mascot, we’ve also been sending postcards from our destinations so that the children can find the place on their world maps, and pinpoint our journey – like a treasure-hunt geography lesson!
One of the best small islands we visited was Lifou, in French New Caledonia. Once again, tendering ashore, we climbed way up a steep kilometre-long bumpy path to the isolated white-painted church that dominated the skyline. The weather was still hot and humid, but a dip in the crystal-clear ocean refreshed and revitalised. The following day, we were to dock at Noumea, also in New Caledonia, for a return to a little French sophistication and a fast catamaran ride to an Island called Amedee, for a delightful lunch, swimming, dancing, and drinking real French wine.
A rather implausible French territory stuck in the middle of Pacific Melanesia, New Caledonia proudly flies the French and European flags, speak French as their first language, and has a mix of cultures that appear to work beautifully. The islands are well developed, and driving through Noumea town one could imagine actually being en France, from the ornate architecture with shuttered windows and decorative awnings. But as we left port, we were also leaving behind forever the South Seas islands we love so much, and preparing ourselves for a return home, albeit for just a few stops, as we sailed through suddenly worsening seas towards a triumphal entry at sunrise, to familiar shores via magnificent Sydney Harbour.
