Poppies in Brisbane

Nov. 10

I finally, after 45 days, figured out why some of my posts have incorrect dates. I’m often dating the posts off my computer which is running on Seattle time, the time the computer last set itself automatically. Meanwhile our time on ship is way ahead by at least 14 -16 hours depending on where we are. Duh. Right now my computer says November 9, but it is November 10 in Australia.

Today we are at sea on our way to Brisbane and it is a bit bumpy and getting cooler out as we head toward the South Pole. This is my last night with June so I will take my bottle of Champagne to the dinner table. We are also celebrating Veterans Day, or Remembrance Day as it is called in Australia, Canada and the UK, Poppy day in Malta and South Africa and Armistice Day in France and New Zealand, and, as it is a formal night tonight the ship will salute our veterans with a glass of champagne at dessert. And tomorrow we will all wear a poppy lapel pin in remembrance of all who sacrificed for their country’s freedom. God bless all our veterans.

Yesterday we had our Mariners Brunch. If you have sailed with Holland America over a certain amount of days you are considered a Mariner and are invited to a special champagne brunch hosted by the captain. As the captain was giving his toast, (it lasted no more than 90 seconds), I noticed a woman at the next table  about 45 seconds into the toast look down at her i-phone and start sliding her finger around checking messages. She must be newly on the ship from Australia otherwise her phone wouldn’t have worked. I realized I have been almost 7 weeks without a cell phone, as have almost all the people on board. The world has not stopped spinning. I haven’t missed my phone calls, my text messages or my unlimited e-mails.  We have only a phone in our cabins and mine rings to wake me up in the morning and maybe 10 other times this whole cruise. Our internet is expensive, so we limit ourselves accordingly. In these seven weeks we have become human beings who use technology, not automatons who respond to the bits and bytes around us. And do you know what happens then? We start to feel. I have felt sad, empathetic, content, elated, lonely, wistful, creative, happy, friendly, sympathetic, spiritual, thoughtful, joyful, melancholy, blessed and on and on.  And I have been able to attend to those feelings, to pay attention to them, to think and give them time to become a part of me without either sublimating them or overreacting to them. You, on the other hand, dear reader, are being pushed and pulled and propelled and repelled and dictated to and about all day and night by the tiny little gizmo in your pocket. And because you always have to check what you may have missed or what you need to get to, you miss the most important thing: now; the present. And you get to the end of your day and wonder what you did. Check your phone! Kidding, but not really because that’s what some of you would do.

I have had the gift of time and the perspective it allows. Being present to ourselves and our thoughts and feelings is essential to our well being. We cannot BE if we are in a constant state of noise and lack of inner presence. It is why all religions stress meditation and contemplative time alone. Wise men have always known we cannot fathom God and what is important with distraction. It is why I knew I needed to go on this trip alone; to cull the inessential from my life. I didn’t realize how much of that distraction was on my phone and computer. Beware. These wonderful tools also hold the key to the destruction of your SELF. If you don’t think so, try a day without them and you will find you are just as agitated, nervous, and jittery as an alcoholic without a drink. Nothing that can do that to you is good for you. And I don’t care how good you think you are at it, reading your cell phone while driving is BAD. Just thinking you can do that shows you how far away you have come from the reality of the situation. We all think it. We all do it. We all reach for that phone, just like the lady at the luncheon, instead of being present to the moment and the people around us; we reach out of the present, the presence of being, and into a manufactured world of what might have been or might yet be. Missing perhaps the essence of now: the sun on my face while munching a warm bean roll on a busy street in Tokyo, the long walk and talk with a young black market boy in Shanghai, the sigh in your daughter’s voice that means something is not quite right, the peace of a cricket’s chirp on a Summer night. God gave us the ability to create and to control what we create, and the free will to choose to use that control. Choose wisely or be a slave.

This is pretty heavy so I will cut it off now, but will return sometime soon because it’s interesting to see how many people are uncomfortable with me going alone on my trip, and why they are uncomfortable, especially the New Zealand part.

Nov. 11

Brisbane is the third most populous city in Australia and home to my dear June who left the ship today. A little bit of light has gone out of my life today. Our performer last night closed his show with a tribute and impression of Louis Armstrong singing “What a Wonderful World.” And June hooked arms with me and we held hands and I got all teary eyed and emotional. I just won’t know what to do after dinner each night and who will share my 2-for-1 drinks? What a special blessing to have found such a friend and companion on this journey. She has agreed to adopt me. I’m pretty good with the Aussie accent.

Well, I did sign up for one last tour (can you believe it’s almost been 50 days?) and I didn’t shoot myself in the head –they have pretty strict gun laws Down Under. I did make sure it was an adventure tour and not a city/museum bore-athon. It was the Rain Forest Adventure tour and went as follows.

We were picked up at the ship by 4wheel drive vehicles that held 10 people and drove out of Brisbane and ascended a rough dirt track straight up Mt. Tambourine’s bush track. We bumped up through a eucalyptus forest, of which there a several hundred types, not one kind, looking for sleeping koalas. We didn’t find any, but it was a fun ride. We reach the peak and had a terrific view of the Gold Coast in all directions. Then we stopped and had a spot of tea with fresh scones and cream and homemade rhubarb jam. Yum. Next we took a walk into the rainforest down to a waterfall while learning about the flora and fauna and what makes a rainforest different from other forests. I spotted a big, flat black lizard/snake- thing the guide told us was a Mullet lizard, Australia’s largest lizard. Then I saw a wild turkey and later pointed out a small scampering lizard. I then offered to take over as guide. Without pay.

The best part of the rainforest walk was the little old lady I’ll call Dot. I’ve gotten to know her and she’s in her 80’s and very game about everything. Today she came along with her walking shoes and back pack and as we were starting down into the forest she came walking toward me and I heard this noise like a really loud zipper being unzipped. I looked at her gear to see what was coming apart, but nothing seemed amiss and she just kept walking past me as the noise continued. And continued for, like, 15 seconds, and I kept staring until I realized she was releasing excess intestinal gas. And it was Olympian in duration! She was either unaware or unfazed. Either way, I was impressed but had no one to relish the moment with as June was not with me. On the way back up from having enjoyed this pristine waterfall we had climbed down to see, I was again behind Dot.  I was reminded of the times you go on those horseback rides where everyone follows the horse in front of them and you are riding up a hill and inevitably one horse gets the farts and goes “ bltss,bltss,bltss” with every step. Then everyone giggles uncontrollably. Well, I was right behind Dot as we neared the top of the mountain and the zipper unzipped again, only now we were all sort of close together and it was pretty loud and you couldn’t really tell where it was coming from. And it was not odorless. And it didn’t stop. This is a tiny woman who could power our ship! I was getting really worried people were thinking it was me so I finally turned my head to the side and whispered out of the side of my mouth to the man behind me “It’s not me!” I heard him whisper back “I know, she does it all the time.”  We finally broke into the sunshine and quickly moved apart as if nothing had happened.

Next we were onto Spring Gully ranch for an Aussie barby – barbecue lunch. In a beautiful setting tucked in a valley alongside a river we ate barbecue chicken, steak and fish with all the fixens, fine Australian beer, wine and soda. After lunch we had a lesson on how to use real whips. It was so much fun! We had to put on hats so we wouldn’t whack our ears off with the whip and they taught us the proper technique to try and make them really snap loud. When it snaps you are actually breaking the sound barrier so it is quite an accomplishment.  It was hard and I kept whipping my legs and arms and hurting myself. A lot of the people wouldn’t even try. Finally, with their guidance, I got it figured out and was able to make that whip talk, not crack, just talk loudly. I can’t wait to buy one and do it at home. One man never could get the hang of it but the guide went up behind him and would crack his whip at precisely the same moment the man tried and the man really thought he was doing it himself. It was hysterical. The man was really proud of himself. Then we tried the boomerang. Dangerous and difficult --- best left in Australia. On our way out of the valley we saw wallabies and kangaroos – finally, the real Australian wild marsupials munching grass and hopping around. Lastly, we stopped at O’Reilly’s Winery and tasted 7 Australian wines. Then we drove back through downtown Brisbane along the river, saw a cool looking lizard sitting on the cliffs overlooking the city, a kookaburra sitting on the old tension wire, a purple building that reminded me of June because that is her favorite color, and our mighty ship, the Amsterdam.

As anxious as I have been to leave, I am now feeling sad. This has been home for seven weeks and every need has been foreseen and attended to. I have lived in luxury and safety, cocooned in comfort with many varied and new friends and acquaintances. I have come to look forward to quirky Loris and Peter from Australia on many of my tours, my new, tall Norwegian friend Yan who I can actually understand, twinkle-eyed Hazel from Nova Scotia who LIVES for every daily activity on the boat, and the sweet married couple at mass who love to look at the fun photos of June, Hazel and myself in the photo gallery each night. These are people who have become the framework of this weird, little floating society we have formed out here on the sea. I know I will probably never see them again, yet they are good people who have touched my life in a fine way. To be so blessed allows me to overlook the few passengers who complain or make problems. Those are the people I feel sorry for, those who cant find joy when it slaps them in the face.  Those people need our prayers for they are truly unhappy. But my prayer tonight is one of thanksgiving for the incredible gifts of this cruise, the eyes to see the wonders God and man have put on this earth, the body to have physically experienced these creations, and the heart and soul to recognize the joy we bring to one another simply by smiling and saying hello.

P.S.

My next few days will be busy packing, disembarking, moving to a hotel, flying to New Zealand and picking up that backward car and driving wrong side of the road. Not sure when and where I will have internet access or time to write, but will do my best.