It hardly seems possible, but it is just a week short of four years since I last wrote on this blog. Where does the time go, life really is so very short?
The years between have been eventful to say the least our family has both grown and realigned itself. Two divorces a marriage and three new grandchildren have brought tears of joy and sadness to the family group. Redundancy has also come calling, as it has for many throughout the country, throwing shadows of uncertainty over the lives, dreams and plans of our kids as they struggle to make their way in new homes, with children both young and not so young of their own to raise. Fortunately the families’ mutual support system has withstood the test and all seem reasonably settled.
Our Grandchildren now range in ages from two to twenty with two having been adopted from America and one born in Germany. The eldest is now at university, the youngest soon to start playschool. In between there are CSE’s and A. level’s to be taken and hopefully more university’s to be found and entered. Keeping up with that lot and their progress is a full time job for Anne and myself.
Anne herself has fought hard against the ever-encroaching Arthritis, but the constant pain sometimes proves almost too much, even for my brave lady and depression is a constant threat. Sunshine and the visible love of our grandchildren along with numerous pills and potions, combine to keep the dark days to a minimum. As we muddle along together happy in our own little world.
Anne as ever delights in the TV soaps and dramas, whilst I am a sport junkie and have taken to blogging on a site Called Arsenal Arsenal whose name says it all. The constant supply of televised Cricket, Tennis, Golf and football has turned my den into a miniature sports bar where coffee and Coke’s are the main attractions for the many visitors we are so lucky to get.
Today we took the dog to the vet early and on the way back saw a number of barn owls hunting, along the roadside ditches and riverbanks Anne loves these owls. To her great delight I managed to get the car within ten yards of one perched on a fence post and it spent five minutes watching us, watching him, we had neither camera or phone with us so a chance was missed, we wont make that mistake again.
So that’s it for a start hopefully I will keep this up to date as we muddle along, blow the dust off the camera and welcome spring.
Tuesday 1 March 2011
Monday 5 February 2007
Home at last
Woo, what a month it has been since we returned, We arrived home as I have said, in the in the pouring rain to find that we had lost three segments of the back garden fence to the gales and the roof felt from the garden shed, had also blown off. The gardens front and back were filled with debris from the trees; the whole place is a tip. Have gathered it up for now, but will need to get an incinerator and burn it. . Now it’s just a case of e waiting for the tradesmen to come and repair the other bits...
We have made the decision that we no longer want to have dinner parties or feed our families en bloc at home, with all the organising and cooking that entails, restaurants do it so much better. Accordingly we have shared much of our Dinning Room Furniture, Decanters, Glassware, Dinner Service and Cutlery out among the kids, thereby at a stroke doing away with a dinning room and providing a convenient location for my new den
. As a result of this we have cleared the shelves and cupboard of books and ornaments etc. and have about ten boxes full of stuff we intend to take to our first ever car boot sale in the spring.
Anne’s daughter has been in with her brushes and pots of paint to completely redecorate the room, and a splendid job she has done. Telephone lines and sky TV have been run in, a large desk purchased and assembled to take the computer, printer etc, and all the gear for my photos. A man sized TV for watching football, along with my stereo units and speakers, have also been installed. We await the delivery of the new furniture and blind, then hey presto a den at last.
Anne’s 16 year old grand daughter Helen had a leading role as the evil stepmother in the village Pantomime, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs this year. She did very well and soon had Anne in tears. As support we had taken ten tickets for the matinee and all my family adults and children turned up and thoroughly enjoyed themselves booing and hissing Helen, as she tried to do away with poor Snow White needless to say the good guys won and Helen came unstuck.
Afterwards all ten of us plus baby Laura, adjourned to a Chinese restaurants for a super banquet, a sort of late Christmas dinner as we had been away over the festive period. As a trial for our new direction it worked well and was a great success with everybody having a good time. Including Anne and I, as we had nothing else to do but eat and enjoy the families company.
Chinese meal
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
As an aside, at least the insurance company has coughed up without complaint, the money we spent on Anne’s medical expenses on board.
Happy days
We have made the decision that we no longer want to have dinner parties or feed our families en bloc at home, with all the organising and cooking that entails, restaurants do it so much better. Accordingly we have shared much of our Dinning Room Furniture, Decanters, Glassware, Dinner Service and Cutlery out among the kids, thereby at a stroke doing away with a dinning room and providing a convenient location for my new den
. As a result of this we have cleared the shelves and cupboard of books and ornaments etc. and have about ten boxes full of stuff we intend to take to our first ever car boot sale in the spring.
Anne’s daughter has been in with her brushes and pots of paint to completely redecorate the room, and a splendid job she has done. Telephone lines and sky TV have been run in, a large desk purchased and assembled to take the computer, printer etc, and all the gear for my photos. A man sized TV for watching football, along with my stereo units and speakers, have also been installed. We await the delivery of the new furniture and blind, then hey presto a den at last.
Anne’s 16 year old grand daughter Helen had a leading role as the evil stepmother in the village Pantomime, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs this year. She did very well and soon had Anne in tears. As support we had taken ten tickets for the matinee and all my family adults and children turned up and thoroughly enjoyed themselves booing and hissing Helen, as she tried to do away with poor Snow White needless to say the good guys won and Helen came unstuck.
Afterwards all ten of us plus baby Laura, adjourned to a Chinese restaurants for a super banquet, a sort of late Christmas dinner as we had been away over the festive period. As a trial for our new direction it worked well and was a great success with everybody having a good time. Including Anne and I, as we had nothing else to do but eat and enjoy the families company.
Chinese meal
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
As an aside, at least the insurance company has coughed up without complaint, the money we spent on Anne’s medical expenses on board.
Happy days
Thursday 18 January 2007
The Last Lap
Are you still with me, or has the non stop food, inclement weather, graft and general incompetence got to you, it has me. Can’t wait to get off this bloody ship, I think the same bloke who arranged the deckchairs on the Titanic is at it again on here.
Anne and I had expected this tour, of part of the world we had not previously seen, to provide plenty of sun for her and grand photo ops for me, it hasn’t been that way. The sun has at least; shone for the past few days, whilst we have been at sea, to such an extent that even Anne is peeling. But the crap weather ashore has meant that photo ops have been severely limited.
We had arrived at Male, capital of the Maldives in good weather, but of course 2hrs late, meaning we would not now disembark untill about 10 AM and were still expected to be back on the ship by 3PM. People already less than happy when they set off for shore by Tender, reacted badly to find on arrival that it was a religious holiday again and everything was closed or would be closed at 11.30 AM, wonderful.
Now the Maldives are made up of about 2000 magical coral islands grouped together in atolls, only ten percent of them are inhabited. Most have white sands, coral reefs, coconut trees and coves, populated by millions of fish, snorkeling havens, idyllic and everything you could dream of for escaping to……
A.O. Male. Maldives
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
.
Except Male of course, this has an airport with the runway sticking out to the sea, and banks, banks and more banks, factories, traffic, oh, and banks. All the roads have sleeping policemen built in every few yards. We asked a taxi driver to take us for a tour, and as he passed over each hump the floor of the cab lifted as it scraped on the road. He never once went over 20MPH and still managed to complete the tour in 20 minutes. The thing of most note, he asked us to look at, the man made beach, everything else was closed. Anne dashed into a shop got her magnet and then we were done.
Islam is the only permitted religion here, so religious holidays tend to be observed. Any working boats had been taken up by the tours booked in advance from the ship, so we called it a day and made our way back to Artemis.
Now had the ship stayed a night in Cape town all the subsequent woes of Sunday and Holiday landings would have been averted, as well as providing us passengers with sufficient time to have a better look at the lovely city, The dissent and unrest generated would have been avoided and P & O would have reaped the benefit in the future. Especially as a number of other large cruise companies will be operating out of Southampton from this year on. Unfortunately they didn’t and will, I fear, pay the price.
Cruising is definitely changing, driven by the Americans, bigger ships are coming, with cheaper smaller cabins, more entertainment facilities on board, everything chargeable and the major dollar earner the Casino, given Vegas style pride of place, meaning you will pass through it to get to other parts of the ship. Good luck to them they can keep it.
It is just after lunch on Sunday Jan the 7th, the captain has been on the tanoy, It seems we are still fighting the current and will be late at our next port, how late he can’t tell us yet. Also Bangkok because of the recent bombings has been removed from the itinerary and we won’t be visiting, however this means two days instead of one in Singapore for the ship and an overnight stay in Vietnam, they are both improvements. But as we leave the ship in Singapore won’t do us much good.
Lousy weather, no sunbathing, so we have packed our cases and dispatched four of them to the hold, to be picked up when the ship gets back to Southampton,
Kuala Lumpur some time tomorrow, we have a long tour booked, depends on what time we get in, whether we go or not.
9. Am on the 9th, we should be tied up at the terminal in KL. But that is at least two hours away, the humidity is high, so high my lenses have still not cleared after an hours exposure to the air.
At least the Norovirus seems to have been contained and all the restaurants are open and working, makes for a more comfortable experience in these humid conditions, the air conditioning in the main restaurant is patchy to say the least.
11.30 Ashore at last, long walk in the humidity to the coach, the ship leaves at 7pm meaning our tour has been cut back a bit, we have a 90 minute ride each way to KL. Plus a booked lunch, leaving us about 3.5 hours for the city, not enough of course but the best we are going to get.
The ride in is bumpy, the new road has been carved from mango swamps, and unsurprisingly is prone to shrinkage and sinking, high rise social housing seems to be the order of the day, built by the government and rented cheaply to the lower earners, after twenty years if they are still sound (they too suffer from shrinkage) they are offered at very cheap prices to the tenants. If not sound, the tenants are eventually re-housed, the apartments demolished and rebuilt for the current, generation of low earners to rent.
The Chinese inhabit the road running into the city; these are low rise livers, the shops, restaurants, stalls, businesses and homes, no different to so many Chinese quarters, in countless cities around the world.
The traffic thickens as you approach the city hemmed in by an imposing mix of colonial buildings of many influences, both Eastern and European and vast modern office blocks and skyscrapers, looming over the business centre. Here is one of the highest building in the world the Petronis Twin towers, with its sky bridge joining the two at the top; the fourth highest viewing tower is also here. We jumped a lift and rode to the top, stupendous views across the city and out to the hills in the distance. From here can be seen the marvellous mix of building styles that reflect KL’s colourful past. A headset with a full commentary is available in the ticket price for those who have the time, unfortunately we didn’t, so down again and off to a hotel for lunch
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
What a lunch, KL was long under Dutch control and is of course part of Malaysia, from this mix comes, Satay’s subtle, delicate and delicious, a million miles from those available at home, served alongside Chinese and European dishes. We gulped them down and were soon on the move again.
Visits to a museum, a demonstration of local Batik cloth printing and a war memorial followed, topped by the beautiful Independence Square. Here the Sultans Palace stands and is still used on important occasions. Of Indian design with a working clock it glows a soft pink even under the cloudy sky that accompanied us. Cars and mopeds buzz around it like angry wasps, but its timeless calm transcends all this, a remarkable building.
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Across the road is the square itself, originally just a cricket ground, which sits there still, a green manicured oasis with a wicket marked out in the middle ready to go, bet the ball swings in that humidity, if you can get a grip on it that is.
A black and white timbered building alongside it could easily be a club house straight from the Home Counties, flower beds, a water fountain, and the Cathedral, all conspire to make this a must visit spot
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Here also, present day east met west, a class of young Muslim women chattered to us and happily posed for photos, whilst a young European man tattooed and wearing a Mohican's Haircut scowled and muttered at the cameras, an interesting absurdity, that amused this traveller.
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Time caught up with us, this is a place to return to, and we boarded our bus and headed back for our last night on board.
Anne’s birthday was two days away, but as a surprise I arranged for our dinner table to be decorated with balloons and streamers, at the end of the meal, waiters gathered, produced the cake I had ordered and sang happy birthday to her. She enjoyed it in the company of dinner companions, who amidst the chaos that has been this cruise have become friends. We adjourned to the lounge for a few drinks, said goodbye to many, although half the passengers are leaving the ship tomorrow with us.
So what is my overriding memory of this trip, well, anger really, angry skies, angry seas, and most of all angry passengers, the average age on this trip is around the mid sixties, these people have seen it all, a lot of them are very successful and are by and large, slow to rise, this time they did. They reacted to being treated like mushrooms, kept in the dark and fed bullshit, they reacted to the bad planning the constant lateness and on days that we were early, the damn places been shut for whatever reason. P and O should have known and planned for this. The general impression is that P an O under the auspices of the new owners Carnival are cutting corners and lowering standards. One night and an extra day spent in Cape Town would have avoided all these problems, but it would have cost and that I believe is the answer, bottom line for the new American masters
The Captain most certainly didn’t help, only venturing from his bridge to the Captains Dinner. Most cruise ship Captains circulate amongst the passengers on a regular if not daily basis, this one’s refusal to do so, served to fire the resentment and increased the feeling that he didn’t want to know.
So will we go again? Not without studying the itinerary much closer, more overnight stops are crucial on long voyages, but Anne loves the life so I expect like most wimps I will give in.
To add insult to injury it rained for the three days we were in Singapore, good job we had a lovely hotel, and a good friend to meet us there, Witty is a native Singaporean an attractive young lady with an infectious giggle, a delight to be with. Hopefully she will visit us this year. The flight home was a typical BA. Cram em in job, lasting 14 hours.
On arriving home. It was still raining and blowing a gale, the back garden fence had blown over and the felt blown from the roof of the garden shed.
Happy Days
Anne and I had expected this tour, of part of the world we had not previously seen, to provide plenty of sun for her and grand photo ops for me, it hasn’t been that way. The sun has at least; shone for the past few days, whilst we have been at sea, to such an extent that even Anne is peeling. But the crap weather ashore has meant that photo ops have been severely limited.
We had arrived at Male, capital of the Maldives in good weather, but of course 2hrs late, meaning we would not now disembark untill about 10 AM and were still expected to be back on the ship by 3PM. People already less than happy when they set off for shore by Tender, reacted badly to find on arrival that it was a religious holiday again and everything was closed or would be closed at 11.30 AM, wonderful.
Now the Maldives are made up of about 2000 magical coral islands grouped together in atolls, only ten percent of them are inhabited. Most have white sands, coral reefs, coconut trees and coves, populated by millions of fish, snorkeling havens, idyllic and everything you could dream of for escaping to……
A.O. Male. Maldives
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Male from the sea
.
Except Male of course, this has an airport with the runway sticking out to the sea, and banks, banks and more banks, factories, traffic, oh, and banks. All the roads have sleeping policemen built in every few yards. We asked a taxi driver to take us for a tour, and as he passed over each hump the floor of the cab lifted as it scraped on the road. He never once went over 20MPH and still managed to complete the tour in 20 minutes. The thing of most note, he asked us to look at, the man made beach, everything else was closed. Anne dashed into a shop got her magnet and then we were done.
Islam is the only permitted religion here, so religious holidays tend to be observed. Any working boats had been taken up by the tours booked in advance from the ship, so we called it a day and made our way back to Artemis.
Now had the ship stayed a night in Cape town all the subsequent woes of Sunday and Holiday landings would have been averted, as well as providing us passengers with sufficient time to have a better look at the lovely city, The dissent and unrest generated would have been avoided and P & O would have reaped the benefit in the future. Especially as a number of other large cruise companies will be operating out of Southampton from this year on. Unfortunately they didn’t and will, I fear, pay the price.
Cruising is definitely changing, driven by the Americans, bigger ships are coming, with cheaper smaller cabins, more entertainment facilities on board, everything chargeable and the major dollar earner the Casino, given Vegas style pride of place, meaning you will pass through it to get to other parts of the ship. Good luck to them they can keep it.
It is just after lunch on Sunday Jan the 7th, the captain has been on the tanoy, It seems we are still fighting the current and will be late at our next port, how late he can’t tell us yet. Also Bangkok because of the recent bombings has been removed from the itinerary and we won’t be visiting, however this means two days instead of one in Singapore for the ship and an overnight stay in Vietnam, they are both improvements. But as we leave the ship in Singapore won’t do us much good.
Lousy weather, no sunbathing, so we have packed our cases and dispatched four of them to the hold, to be picked up when the ship gets back to Southampton,
Kuala Lumpur some time tomorrow, we have a long tour booked, depends on what time we get in, whether we go or not.
9. Am on the 9th, we should be tied up at the terminal in KL. But that is at least two hours away, the humidity is high, so high my lenses have still not cleared after an hours exposure to the air.
At least the Norovirus seems to have been contained and all the restaurants are open and working, makes for a more comfortable experience in these humid conditions, the air conditioning in the main restaurant is patchy to say the least.
11.30 Ashore at last, long walk in the humidity to the coach, the ship leaves at 7pm meaning our tour has been cut back a bit, we have a 90 minute ride each way to KL. Plus a booked lunch, leaving us about 3.5 hours for the city, not enough of course but the best we are going to get.
The ride in is bumpy, the new road has been carved from mango swamps, and unsurprisingly is prone to shrinkage and sinking, high rise social housing seems to be the order of the day, built by the government and rented cheaply to the lower earners, after twenty years if they are still sound (they too suffer from shrinkage) they are offered at very cheap prices to the tenants. If not sound, the tenants are eventually re-housed, the apartments demolished and rebuilt for the current, generation of low earners to rent.
The Chinese inhabit the road running into the city; these are low rise livers, the shops, restaurants, stalls, businesses and homes, no different to so many Chinese quarters, in countless cities around the world.
The traffic thickens as you approach the city hemmed in by an imposing mix of colonial buildings of many influences, both Eastern and European and vast modern office blocks and skyscrapers, looming over the business centre. Here is one of the highest building in the world the Petronis Twin towers, with its sky bridge joining the two at the top; the fourth highest viewing tower is also here. We jumped a lift and rode to the top, stupendous views across the city and out to the hills in the distance. From here can be seen the marvellous mix of building styles that reflect KL’s colourful past. A headset with a full commentary is available in the ticket price for those who have the time, unfortunately we didn’t, so down again and off to a hotel for lunch
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Twin Towers
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The View from the Top
What a lunch, KL was long under Dutch control and is of course part of Malaysia, from this mix comes, Satay’s subtle, delicate and delicious, a million miles from those available at home, served alongside Chinese and European dishes. We gulped them down and were soon on the move again.
Visits to a museum, a demonstration of local Batik cloth printing and a war memorial followed, topped by the beautiful Independence Square. Here the Sultans Palace stands and is still used on important occasions. Of Indian design with a working clock it glows a soft pink even under the cloudy sky that accompanied us. Cars and mopeds buzz around it like angry wasps, but its timeless calm transcends all this, a remarkable building.
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Palace Clock
Across the road is the square itself, originally just a cricket ground, which sits there still, a green manicured oasis with a wicket marked out in the middle ready to go, bet the ball swings in that humidity, if you can get a grip on it that is.
A black and white timbered building alongside it could easily be a club house straight from the Home Counties, flower beds, a water fountain, and the Cathedral, all conspire to make this a must visit spot
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Fountain
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Cricket Ground and Club
Here also, present day east met west, a class of young Muslim women chattered to us and happily posed for photos, whilst a young European man tattooed and wearing a Mohican's Haircut scowled and muttered at the cameras, an interesting absurdity, that amused this traveller.
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Last of the Mohicans
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Class is Out
A.O.Kuala Lumpar
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Time caught up with us, this is a place to return to, and we boarded our bus and headed back for our last night on board.
Anne’s birthday was two days away, but as a surprise I arranged for our dinner table to be decorated with balloons and streamers, at the end of the meal, waiters gathered, produced the cake I had ordered and sang happy birthday to her. She enjoyed it in the company of dinner companions, who amidst the chaos that has been this cruise have become friends. We adjourned to the lounge for a few drinks, said goodbye to many, although half the passengers are leaving the ship tomorrow with us.
So what is my overriding memory of this trip, well, anger really, angry skies, angry seas, and most of all angry passengers, the average age on this trip is around the mid sixties, these people have seen it all, a lot of them are very successful and are by and large, slow to rise, this time they did. They reacted to being treated like mushrooms, kept in the dark and fed bullshit, they reacted to the bad planning the constant lateness and on days that we were early, the damn places been shut for whatever reason. P and O should have known and planned for this. The general impression is that P an O under the auspices of the new owners Carnival are cutting corners and lowering standards. One night and an extra day spent in Cape Town would have avoided all these problems, but it would have cost and that I believe is the answer, bottom line for the new American masters
The Captain most certainly didn’t help, only venturing from his bridge to the Captains Dinner. Most cruise ship Captains circulate amongst the passengers on a regular if not daily basis, this one’s refusal to do so, served to fire the resentment and increased the feeling that he didn’t want to know.
So will we go again? Not without studying the itinerary much closer, more overnight stops are crucial on long voyages, but Anne loves the life so I expect like most wimps I will give in.
To add insult to injury it rained for the three days we were in Singapore, good job we had a lovely hotel, and a good friend to meet us there, Witty is a native Singaporean an attractive young lady with an infectious giggle, a delight to be with. Hopefully she will visit us this year. The flight home was a typical BA. Cram em in job, lasting 14 hours.
On arriving home. It was still raining and blowing a gale, the back garden fence had blown over and the felt blown from the roof of the garden shed.
Happy Days
Wednesday 17 January 2007
Christmas and New Year Tales
Christmas Eve on a cruise ship is different, no last minute preparations here, and being a childless ship no kids to worry about either. Artemis is decorated throughout, Christmas trees, baubles and all, abound. Alongside the dining room, the chefs have built a nativity village from gingerbread, marzipan and smarties. It is lovely and looks good enough to eat.
Anne has had her hair done and is feeling better. Dinner is an understated meal tonight, casual dress the order of the day, given the debacle ashore in Port Elizabeth earlier, it needed to be. Passengers feel cheated, having paid good money onboard to P and O for shore tours, only to find in reality, everywhere closed. Disquiet is apparent among the passengers over our itinerary; and the resentment appears to be gaining momentum. Where it will lead, who knows, can passenger’s mutiny or is it just a common old protest, they hang mutineers don’t they?
Upstairs and out on deck, the ship looks fantastic, she is lit up overall, with a string of lights running from bow to stern via the mast heads. A helicopter comes out to meet us, hovers overhead and Father Christmas appears on deck, don’t know how he got down, could have sworn he looked like Malcolm, the head of security, must have been the Buds and Gin and Tonics, I have been slurping. Anyway he leads us in a rendition of jingle bells, and then it’s down to the big lounge for some more liquid refreshment and a disco party. Around midnight we stagger off to bed.
Sleep wont come for a while, I feel guilty, restless, wondering, what these smiling citizens of the third world, whose countries we invade for a day, really feel about the well heeled hordes that pour ashore, from cruise liners. Descending like locusts, some pointing cameras at all and sundry, clicking away claiming another scalp, another place visited. Others scour the stalls and souvenir shops, spending more money on the mundane and useless, than the average local sees in a month. What does that guy standing on the cliff top, who also has a Christmas tomorrow and a family too provide for, what the hell does he think as he watches the ship, itself, lit up like a Christmas tree, turn and sail away, those same passengers now back on deck, often with a glass in one hand and waving with the other. Does he wave back with a smile, would I, bet your sweet life I wouldn’t
CHRISTMAS DAY
An early breakfast up in the conservatory, as we watch the sun rise, then it’s off to get Anne settled in her place on deck, where she will spend the day soaking up some rays, we dispense with lunch knowing what lies ahead 3 o’clock see us returning to our cabin to bath, and dress for dinner, it’s the white jacket, black shirt, red bow tie tonight, god how I hate it. Anne looks good in her finery and like most women enjoys it, so what the hell.
Before dinner the ships officers sing carols, the pianist, a very talented lady, late twenties, I would guess, who not only plays faultless piano whilst sight reading, but is also the ships Senior Doctor, and goes from here shortly, to organise the hospital onboard P & O’s new super liner, Ventura, that will carry three thousand passengers, she is incidentally, also extremely attractive with a superb figure and an easy laugh. She is also married, to a bloody great South African guy, wouldn’t you just know it.
Dinner is superb; the courses keep coming. First a choice of half a dozen starters, then there is Salmon as a fish course or alternatively, one of three soups, Champaign Sorbet comes next, then the main course, Turkey, Ham, Sausage, half a dozen different Veggies and all the trimmings or, if you didn’t fancy that, the Salmon or three other choices including Steak. Several different sweets, including Christmas pudding flamed with brandy, followed by Stilton steeped with Port, or the cheese board with its many choices, Then Christmas Cake, Mince Pies, and chocolates. All washed down by some very nice Merlot, Phew it was a sensational meal.
Dinner over there is a show to watch, or drink to be had, while the pianist plays a Christmas selection, we stayed a while then stuffed and tired we fell into bed and slept.
BOXING DAY
P & O have done it again, we dock in Durban, Billed as the playground of South Africa, because of its stunning beaches and the life alongside them. The tours are booked solid, and coaches line the quay as we arrive. Unfortunately its boxing day, the day the authorities, bus in black South Africans from far and wide, this is there day in town, beaches are no go areas for whites, all streets leading to them are blocked off, road blocks manned by police bar the way. The Indian market, another prime location for tourists is also crossed off the list as being too dangerous, so we end up having a ride around Durban seeing all the statues, visit the Botanical gardens which were lovely. Finally being dropped of at the sea world aquarium for a couple of hours, where we browsed, supped a couple of beers and headed back to the coach and the ship.
People are getting angry two destinations in a row that were not worth visiting on the days we were there, whilst we could have easily have spent three days in cape town, the feeling is that P & O won’t pay the port charges for overnight and mooring fees, also they want us on board spending money rather than ashore, Mutterings that the American parent company Carnival is behind it begin to arise. Where is the planning, who did the research. Worse is yet to come
Discussions over dinner are heated, people are not happy. Dinner itself was great I passed on all the sumptuous dishes on the menu, asked for and got a plate of cold turkey, ham and stuffing with new potatoes, Large English pickle onions and Branston sweet pickle, delicious and just like home, wonderful, the other guys on the table were all sick they didn’t have it,
We now have three days at sea until we reach Mayotte part of the Comoros Islands, Madagascar; again it will be a Sunday, what waits there I wonder.
More trouble the Captain has been on the tanoy, we have the dreaded Norovirus on board. Diarrhoea and sickness is spreading, the main self service restaurant has been closed, all meals have to be taken in the main dinning room, as this will only seat half the passengers at one time, the queues are hopeless, we are only bothering with an evening meal the rest we miss. Toast and marmalade or croissants in your cabin are an alternative but eating on your lap was never my forte. Any one struck down with this sickness is supposed to report in immediately, for a free injection and then are confined to the cabin for 48 hours, needless to say many don’t bother. Where this will lead we do not know, it is the bane of cruise liners, and some ports refuse to have them dock if they are carrying it.
Oh dear Mayotte was the pits, awful, rubbish everywhere, rats were seen on the quayside, the buses were antiques, no air conditioning, ninety percent plus humidity and 32 degrees, A French Catholic country, so being Sunday much was closed. We went to see the monkeys, no monkeys as the trees that housed them had been cut down, the Vanilla museum, was two small rooms, another disaster, went to see the fruit bats but they weren’t there, after two hours of this torture, we arrived at a hotel for a drink, we were allowed one. They didn’t take Dollars, Stirling or credit cards, only Euros, so nothing else could be purchased, god bless the French.
It looked and felt like rain Anne and I headed for the bus, just before we got there the heavens opened. We were the lucky ones, this was monsoon plus. A cyclone was moving through, I have never seen rain like it; it was even raining inside the bus, the bloody roof leaked right over my seat. We stuffed handkerchiefs in to try and stop it. Outside instant rivers were forming literally, running down the road in torrents, water everywhere, the buses windscreen a waterfall. The hotel steps became rapids. Unreal, it beggared belief, half the passengers still sheltering in the hotel, the ship due to leave and you could hardly see across the street for rain.
Still, it gave us time to talk to our guides, they were a French couple living on a yacht with there 13 year old son, and together they had sailed three times round the world. The yacht was uninsured, insurance companies wouldn’t touch them because they couldn’t say were they would be at any time, meaning typhoons, monsoons, cyclones, rainy seasons, etc. couldn’t be built into the risk by the companies The lady had educated the lad thus far and now he was doing correspondence courses, which they could pick up and get marked and appraised in any of the French protectorates around the world, what an education.
The rain eased, the hotel produced some umbrellas, the rest of the passengers appeared, many were soaked, Lightening flashed, jumping from cloud to cloud, lighting up the sky, thunder cracked and echoed around, huge bangs, prompting the heavens to open again as the coach set off. Visibility again reduced to nothing, no blowers on the windscreen, condensation like we hadn’t seen since our courting days. Narrow roads, numerous roundabouts, the locals having removed there tops and shoes paddling along the road, difficult to see in the poor light, not much fun for the driver. A bleeper in the coach’s dashboard sounded continuously, driving us passengers up the wall. We passed a recreation ground where 14/15 year old youths played football naked in the rain, oblivious of their nakedness.
Eventually we reached the quayside, Artemis lay out in the bay, we had come ashore by tender and now we had to return. Still the heavens fell, even the swell travelling across the bay, was pressed down by the weight of the falling water, its crest not breaking into white horses as normal but, pushed back into itself as it rolled, lifting and dropping the moored boats it passed on its way. Anne with her stick has only one speed, but the guides worried about there son needed to get home, so we left the bus and headed for the tender, we were soaked through in yards. Luckily my camera bag is a good one and incorporates a rain cover which I had deployed; otherwise it would have probably meant the end of the cameras electronics. Eventually we reached the moored tender were helped aboard and headed for the ship.
All the tenders are driven by ships officers, in this case a female, she is about 25 and the third officer on the ship, she took us out, visibility was impossible through the windscreen with its small wiper, two ratings peered out through the open sides of the tender, giving course instructions as we went, we reached Artemis and with some difficulty lined the tenders disembarking point, up with the ships gantry and steps. The young officer asked Anne to let the other passengers go first which she did, and then we stepped onto the stairs and began to climb. Moments later an extra big swell, hit the tender lifting and pushing her hard into the gantry, Anne by now almost at the top, leaning on her stick as she climbed, was taken unawares and thrown heavily to the ground, hurting her hip. Her stick dislodged in the fall slid down the stairs and over the side, joining Neptune at the bottom of the sea. I got her to her feet and into the shelter of the ship, where she was put in a wheelchair and taken to the hospital. Nothing broken, but badly bruised and reduced to being pushed by me in the wheelchair, she was not happy, nor was I with another £50 bill, including a tenner for a new stick.
Again we dressed for dinner it being new years eve, I had managed to speak to my youngest as it was his birthday, thirty years old, god is doesn’t seem possible.
The New Years Eve dinner was a big one like Christmas except this time it was haggis to start, this was piped in and the traditional Robbie Burns verse to the Haggis, was spoken by a young cadet and a right good job he made of it. Course followed course and this along with funny hats, streamers, clackers, whistles etcetera made for a fun time, Anne was in a wheelchair and not really up for it, so we went back to the cabin for a couple of hours before, joining some friends in there suite and seeing the new year in.
Trouble is brewing the passengers have just found out, that they have been debited twenty pounds for a visa for the dump we visited yesterday, no one was warned in advance, and a petition has been raised down at reception and everyone has been asking to have there name included. The captain has given in and we have all got our money back. People are still going down with the Norovirus despite all the precautions we are taking.
We are travelling a route between two cyclones, this has caused us to be caught in a unfavourable current and we are two hours late arriving at the Seychelles. The humidity is terrible when it is not raining; the islands are shrouded in mist and look more like the Scottish islands than the Indian Ocean paradise they are supposed to be. My camera had to stand for an hour, outside in the air, before the condensation clears from the lenses, so humid is the atmosphere. We go ashore and as we reach the end of the gangplank we meet Richard Digance the entertainer who is waiting to board. I ask him if he has had a good flight, “no”. he says “They have lost my bloody guitar, I am stuffed” he looked at Anne and said “Bloody hell you got a lovely tan,” Anne replied no its rained all the way this is rust. He grinned and replied “Bollocks” Anne loved it, and has been telling all who will listen.
We grabbed a cab, did a deal for the day and set of with a list of things to see, provided by my Daughter in law’s grandmother, a native of the island. It was a lovely day out, even though the blue skies were missing, and all was grey, most of the time. We got the flavour of the island, lush, green, fertile with Robison Crusoe beaches a plenty, and wonderfully rocky. Giant stones stand isolated, where nature placed them, probably millions of years ago, worn smooth by the elements and surrounded by greenery like some giants rockery, they are a delight to behold. They must look stunning against the normal backdrop of blue sky and ocean. We stopped at one hotel for a cold drink and another for a barbecue lunch, asking the cab driver to join us, he seemed amazed. We were refused entry into the first hotel on our recommended list as a Minister was dining there, good job, don’t really want to eat at places politicians frequent, they lower the tone of the place.
There is virtually no unemployment on Mahe, in fact if anybody draws social security a job is found for them, in the words of the cab driver there is no sitting around here, we could learn from them. Interestingly though he wanted paying in dollars, because they have, he said to pay for spare parts in dollars, Seychelles Rupees being not acceptable.
Our day in the Seychelles over we headed back to the ship and off to sea again.
Wednesday 3rd Jan 2007
We are still tracing a route between two Cyclones, the weather is hot humid and changeable, alternating between rain and sunshine, with a constant wind a cross the deck, en route for the Maldives, we hope just for once for blue skies and seas.
To all my readers a happy new year from Anne and I, just a week left on here now. So probably one more post.
Anne has had her hair done and is feeling better. Dinner is an understated meal tonight, casual dress the order of the day, given the debacle ashore in Port Elizabeth earlier, it needed to be. Passengers feel cheated, having paid good money onboard to P and O for shore tours, only to find in reality, everywhere closed. Disquiet is apparent among the passengers over our itinerary; and the resentment appears to be gaining momentum. Where it will lead, who knows, can passenger’s mutiny or is it just a common old protest, they hang mutineers don’t they?
Upstairs and out on deck, the ship looks fantastic, she is lit up overall, with a string of lights running from bow to stern via the mast heads. A helicopter comes out to meet us, hovers overhead and Father Christmas appears on deck, don’t know how he got down, could have sworn he looked like Malcolm, the head of security, must have been the Buds and Gin and Tonics, I have been slurping. Anyway he leads us in a rendition of jingle bells, and then it’s down to the big lounge for some more liquid refreshment and a disco party. Around midnight we stagger off to bed.
Sleep wont come for a while, I feel guilty, restless, wondering, what these smiling citizens of the third world, whose countries we invade for a day, really feel about the well heeled hordes that pour ashore, from cruise liners. Descending like locusts, some pointing cameras at all and sundry, clicking away claiming another scalp, another place visited. Others scour the stalls and souvenir shops, spending more money on the mundane and useless, than the average local sees in a month. What does that guy standing on the cliff top, who also has a Christmas tomorrow and a family too provide for, what the hell does he think as he watches the ship, itself, lit up like a Christmas tree, turn and sail away, those same passengers now back on deck, often with a glass in one hand and waving with the other. Does he wave back with a smile, would I, bet your sweet life I wouldn’t
CHRISTMAS DAY
An early breakfast up in the conservatory, as we watch the sun rise, then it’s off to get Anne settled in her place on deck, where she will spend the day soaking up some rays, we dispense with lunch knowing what lies ahead 3 o’clock see us returning to our cabin to bath, and dress for dinner, it’s the white jacket, black shirt, red bow tie tonight, god how I hate it. Anne looks good in her finery and like most women enjoys it, so what the hell.
Before dinner the ships officers sing carols, the pianist, a very talented lady, late twenties, I would guess, who not only plays faultless piano whilst sight reading, but is also the ships Senior Doctor, and goes from here shortly, to organise the hospital onboard P & O’s new super liner, Ventura, that will carry three thousand passengers, she is incidentally, also extremely attractive with a superb figure and an easy laugh. She is also married, to a bloody great South African guy, wouldn’t you just know it.
Dinner is superb; the courses keep coming. First a choice of half a dozen starters, then there is Salmon as a fish course or alternatively, one of three soups, Champaign Sorbet comes next, then the main course, Turkey, Ham, Sausage, half a dozen different Veggies and all the trimmings or, if you didn’t fancy that, the Salmon or three other choices including Steak. Several different sweets, including Christmas pudding flamed with brandy, followed by Stilton steeped with Port, or the cheese board with its many choices, Then Christmas Cake, Mince Pies, and chocolates. All washed down by some very nice Merlot, Phew it was a sensational meal.
Dinner over there is a show to watch, or drink to be had, while the pianist plays a Christmas selection, we stayed a while then stuffed and tired we fell into bed and slept.
BOXING DAY
P & O have done it again, we dock in Durban, Billed as the playground of South Africa, because of its stunning beaches and the life alongside them. The tours are booked solid, and coaches line the quay as we arrive. Unfortunately its boxing day, the day the authorities, bus in black South Africans from far and wide, this is there day in town, beaches are no go areas for whites, all streets leading to them are blocked off, road blocks manned by police bar the way. The Indian market, another prime location for tourists is also crossed off the list as being too dangerous, so we end up having a ride around Durban seeing all the statues, visit the Botanical gardens which were lovely. Finally being dropped of at the sea world aquarium for a couple of hours, where we browsed, supped a couple of beers and headed back to the coach and the ship.
People are getting angry two destinations in a row that were not worth visiting on the days we were there, whilst we could have easily have spent three days in cape town, the feeling is that P & O won’t pay the port charges for overnight and mooring fees, also they want us on board spending money rather than ashore, Mutterings that the American parent company Carnival is behind it begin to arise. Where is the planning, who did the research. Worse is yet to come
Discussions over dinner are heated, people are not happy. Dinner itself was great I passed on all the sumptuous dishes on the menu, asked for and got a plate of cold turkey, ham and stuffing with new potatoes, Large English pickle onions and Branston sweet pickle, delicious and just like home, wonderful, the other guys on the table were all sick they didn’t have it,
We now have three days at sea until we reach Mayotte part of the Comoros Islands, Madagascar; again it will be a Sunday, what waits there I wonder.
More trouble the Captain has been on the tanoy, we have the dreaded Norovirus on board. Diarrhoea and sickness is spreading, the main self service restaurant has been closed, all meals have to be taken in the main dinning room, as this will only seat half the passengers at one time, the queues are hopeless, we are only bothering with an evening meal the rest we miss. Toast and marmalade or croissants in your cabin are an alternative but eating on your lap was never my forte. Any one struck down with this sickness is supposed to report in immediately, for a free injection and then are confined to the cabin for 48 hours, needless to say many don’t bother. Where this will lead we do not know, it is the bane of cruise liners, and some ports refuse to have them dock if they are carrying it.
Oh dear Mayotte was the pits, awful, rubbish everywhere, rats were seen on the quayside, the buses were antiques, no air conditioning, ninety percent plus humidity and 32 degrees, A French Catholic country, so being Sunday much was closed. We went to see the monkeys, no monkeys as the trees that housed them had been cut down, the Vanilla museum, was two small rooms, another disaster, went to see the fruit bats but they weren’t there, after two hours of this torture, we arrived at a hotel for a drink, we were allowed one. They didn’t take Dollars, Stirling or credit cards, only Euros, so nothing else could be purchased, god bless the French.
It looked and felt like rain Anne and I headed for the bus, just before we got there the heavens opened. We were the lucky ones, this was monsoon plus. A cyclone was moving through, I have never seen rain like it; it was even raining inside the bus, the bloody roof leaked right over my seat. We stuffed handkerchiefs in to try and stop it. Outside instant rivers were forming literally, running down the road in torrents, water everywhere, the buses windscreen a waterfall. The hotel steps became rapids. Unreal, it beggared belief, half the passengers still sheltering in the hotel, the ship due to leave and you could hardly see across the street for rain.
Still, it gave us time to talk to our guides, they were a French couple living on a yacht with there 13 year old son, and together they had sailed three times round the world. The yacht was uninsured, insurance companies wouldn’t touch them because they couldn’t say were they would be at any time, meaning typhoons, monsoons, cyclones, rainy seasons, etc. couldn’t be built into the risk by the companies The lady had educated the lad thus far and now he was doing correspondence courses, which they could pick up and get marked and appraised in any of the French protectorates around the world, what an education.
The rain eased, the hotel produced some umbrellas, the rest of the passengers appeared, many were soaked, Lightening flashed, jumping from cloud to cloud, lighting up the sky, thunder cracked and echoed around, huge bangs, prompting the heavens to open again as the coach set off. Visibility again reduced to nothing, no blowers on the windscreen, condensation like we hadn’t seen since our courting days. Narrow roads, numerous roundabouts, the locals having removed there tops and shoes paddling along the road, difficult to see in the poor light, not much fun for the driver. A bleeper in the coach’s dashboard sounded continuously, driving us passengers up the wall. We passed a recreation ground where 14/15 year old youths played football naked in the rain, oblivious of their nakedness.
Eventually we reached the quayside, Artemis lay out in the bay, we had come ashore by tender and now we had to return. Still the heavens fell, even the swell travelling across the bay, was pressed down by the weight of the falling water, its crest not breaking into white horses as normal but, pushed back into itself as it rolled, lifting and dropping the moored boats it passed on its way. Anne with her stick has only one speed, but the guides worried about there son needed to get home, so we left the bus and headed for the tender, we were soaked through in yards. Luckily my camera bag is a good one and incorporates a rain cover which I had deployed; otherwise it would have probably meant the end of the cameras electronics. Eventually we reached the moored tender were helped aboard and headed for the ship.
All the tenders are driven by ships officers, in this case a female, she is about 25 and the third officer on the ship, she took us out, visibility was impossible through the windscreen with its small wiper, two ratings peered out through the open sides of the tender, giving course instructions as we went, we reached Artemis and with some difficulty lined the tenders disembarking point, up with the ships gantry and steps. The young officer asked Anne to let the other passengers go first which she did, and then we stepped onto the stairs and began to climb. Moments later an extra big swell, hit the tender lifting and pushing her hard into the gantry, Anne by now almost at the top, leaning on her stick as she climbed, was taken unawares and thrown heavily to the ground, hurting her hip. Her stick dislodged in the fall slid down the stairs and over the side, joining Neptune at the bottom of the sea. I got her to her feet and into the shelter of the ship, where she was put in a wheelchair and taken to the hospital. Nothing broken, but badly bruised and reduced to being pushed by me in the wheelchair, she was not happy, nor was I with another £50 bill, including a tenner for a new stick.
Again we dressed for dinner it being new years eve, I had managed to speak to my youngest as it was his birthday, thirty years old, god is doesn’t seem possible.
The New Years Eve dinner was a big one like Christmas except this time it was haggis to start, this was piped in and the traditional Robbie Burns verse to the Haggis, was spoken by a young cadet and a right good job he made of it. Course followed course and this along with funny hats, streamers, clackers, whistles etcetera made for a fun time, Anne was in a wheelchair and not really up for it, so we went back to the cabin for a couple of hours before, joining some friends in there suite and seeing the new year in.
Trouble is brewing the passengers have just found out, that they have been debited twenty pounds for a visa for the dump we visited yesterday, no one was warned in advance, and a petition has been raised down at reception and everyone has been asking to have there name included. The captain has given in and we have all got our money back. People are still going down with the Norovirus despite all the precautions we are taking.
We are travelling a route between two cyclones, this has caused us to be caught in a unfavourable current and we are two hours late arriving at the Seychelles. The humidity is terrible when it is not raining; the islands are shrouded in mist and look more like the Scottish islands than the Indian Ocean paradise they are supposed to be. My camera had to stand for an hour, outside in the air, before the condensation clears from the lenses, so humid is the atmosphere. We go ashore and as we reach the end of the gangplank we meet Richard Digance the entertainer who is waiting to board. I ask him if he has had a good flight, “no”. he says “They have lost my bloody guitar, I am stuffed” he looked at Anne and said “Bloody hell you got a lovely tan,” Anne replied no its rained all the way this is rust. He grinned and replied “Bollocks” Anne loved it, and has been telling all who will listen.
We grabbed a cab, did a deal for the day and set of with a list of things to see, provided by my Daughter in law’s grandmother, a native of the island. It was a lovely day out, even though the blue skies were missing, and all was grey, most of the time. We got the flavour of the island, lush, green, fertile with Robison Crusoe beaches a plenty, and wonderfully rocky. Giant stones stand isolated, where nature placed them, probably millions of years ago, worn smooth by the elements and surrounded by greenery like some giants rockery, they are a delight to behold. They must look stunning against the normal backdrop of blue sky and ocean. We stopped at one hotel for a cold drink and another for a barbecue lunch, asking the cab driver to join us, he seemed amazed. We were refused entry into the first hotel on our recommended list as a Minister was dining there, good job, don’t really want to eat at places politicians frequent, they lower the tone of the place.
There is virtually no unemployment on Mahe, in fact if anybody draws social security a job is found for them, in the words of the cab driver there is no sitting around here, we could learn from them. Interestingly though he wanted paying in dollars, because they have, he said to pay for spare parts in dollars, Seychelles Rupees being not acceptable.
Our day in the Seychelles over we headed back to the ship and off to sea again.
Wednesday 3rd Jan 2007
We are still tracing a route between two Cyclones, the weather is hot humid and changeable, alternating between rain and sunshine, with a constant wind a cross the deck, en route for the Maldives, we hope just for once for blue skies and seas.
To all my readers a happy new year from Anne and I, just a week left on here now. So probably one more post.
St Vincente And Onward
St. Vincent and Onward.
Monday 11th December, 5 PM
Artemis is a changed lady, gone is the embattled warrior of the past week, her confrontation with the wild seas behind her, she heads for her next landfall. A gentle, almost smug feel has settled about her in the last hour or so, as seas moderate, clouds part and the African sun shows itself for the first time.
The passengers have changed with the ship and conditions, claiming space and position on the deck, to warm bruised and in many cases tired bones, sleep having been at a premium for some. Seasickness is a wretched condition, not always fully appreciated by those who are lucky enough never to have experienced it. Fear too has played its part, a rocking cabin, on a creaking, groaning, banging ship, throughout the darkest hours of the night, is not everybody’s idea of Utopia. Although personally speaking, I have loved it. Apart from Anne’s injury of course, which, for a while with the doctors talking of CT scans, seemed likely to put us prematurely ashore.
A.O. St. Vincent
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Our short break in St Vincent, one of the Cape Verde islands was good for morale, allowing cramped muscle to be exercised with a walk of around a mile to the town, which being Sunday was shut of course. There were shuttle buses laid on if you didn’t want or couldn’t manage the walk, we went in by shuttle and then walked slowly back. Though the buildings were by and large bright and colourful, poverty was apparent everywhere, with beggars and homeless asleep in doorways, the hawkers selling the normal beads and carvings seemed cheerful and happy enough with none of the understandable surliness and resentment that is found is many other places.
A.O. St. Vincent
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The islands importance as a staging post for the slave trade has resulted in a population, that are very much of mixed race and although all were given Portuguese nationality some years ago, they continued to demand and finally got independence. They are however despite fish, bananas and coffee being exported, far from independent in real terms, and rely on foreign aid for their survival. A life expectancy much shorter than in the richer parts of the world means that three quarters of the population is under thirty, with 90% of the over twenty fives still unable to read or write. Education is now becoming sort of compulsory, in the laid back African way, so perhaps the future will be brighter
The harbour itself was full of working boats, small coasters and tankers which ply their trade around the coast of Africa and across to these islands, which lie some 400 miles off the coast of Senegal and are the most westerly point of Africa. The islands are volcanic and rocky, with only 10% suitable for agriculture. The harbour itself a volcanic crater that the sea has breached on one side, is a fine deep water anchorage. On the other side, the hills have formed a realistic outline of a mans face lying on its back, said by locals to be Napoleon or George Washington, depending on the nationality they are talking to, we were told it was god. Whoever he is, we watched him drop astern as we waved goodbye to this isolated, less than inviting outpost of European colonisation. Set in the tropics though it is. St Vincent is far from being a paradise and we left her shrouded in the heat haze that had thwarted the photographers on board all day
A.O. St. Vincent 051
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Seas, mountains, deserts, the unspoilt wild places of this beautiful planet, in all its moods, fascinate this traveller, fat and hopelessly out of condition though he is, able only to view them from the outside, and not with the head on involvement, of a younger, fitter man. But still seeing enough to know, that the more beautiful the place the more abject the poverty, is a fair summation. The hunger and deprivation apparent at so many landfalls make our privileged lifestyle, particularly the masses of food available on this ship; seem wrong and inappropriate, if not downright immoral. Not that our abstinence would make one iota of difference of course, given the corruption that also pervades these places. Anything provided ends up not in the stomachs of the needy, that provoke the gesture, but in the coffers of the elite that run the show, wherever in the developing world you might be.
Back onboard humour plays its part, the orchestra joined us from a Bermudan cruise missing a musician, I reckon it’s the triangle player. Another oddity has been the rise in conversations among older people of the term Love Child; I suppose a much nicer word than the term I grew up with, but not quite so easy to use at a football match I fear, when the ref offends.
You may remember that we were due to visit Tenerife after leaving Madeira, but were forced to cancel this in order to make up lost time, strange then that the official ships cruise shirt, printed prior to the voyage and sold in the ships shop, from day one, list’s every port we are due to visit en route, but doesn’t include Tenerife, conspiracy theory anyone.
It is now midday Tuesday the Dec 12 and we are crossing the mid Atlantic ridge the highest range of mountains in the world. These subterranean peaks are beloved by submariners, who it seems play hide and seek among and around them trying to steal a march on each other and test their latest James Bond like gadgetry. The weather outside is fine, the sea still a bit choppy as the winds continue to blow even though we are officially in the doldrums, indeed we cross the equator tomorrow at around midday and no doubt the ships crew will conduct the relevant ceremony to appease Neptune, but more of that next time. Anne is of course positioned on the upper front deck worshiping her sun god, intent on cooking herself until in her evening shower she resembles a zebra, so dark does she go.
Saturday we reach St. Helena a speck in the Atlantic, perhaps most famous for its use as a final prison for Napoleon, but again more of that later. In the meantime we have such taxing culinary decisions to make, that’s apart from or instead off the normal silver service in the main restaurant morning, noon and night. Should we go to the Pasta and Pizza buffet being served right now, then there is the Spanish buffet tomorrow lunchtime and we are already booked for the Indian buffet dinner Friday night. Food in all its diverse forms is a never ending parade here. Anne and I tend to miss most of it, settling mainly for a small breakfast and the evening meal, and occasionally a bit of curry or noodle mid day. We have, however, a friend, a former hotelier from Blackpool and a sun worshiper on a par with Anne, who has breakfast around 7.30. Tea and cake mid morning, lunch at mid day, a cream tea, scones, jam, cream, and cake 3.30 ish, dinner, usually steak or salmon at 7 Pm., watches a show or film and then adjourns to the restaurant, for cake, chips, chicken or what have you, at 11PM . Unbelievable and yet he is no fatty, life can be a bitch and so unfair.
3. PM Tuesday
The weather has changed again, gone is the sun, in its place a windless, airless calm, typical of the doldrums, thick fog shrouds it all, magnifying sound, so Artemis’s unseen bow wave, as she travels at a steady 17.5 knots, sounds like the breakers on the beach.
Back in the days of sail, Mariners dreaded these conditions, becalmed, with the sails hanging limp and lifeless on the masts, sometimes for weeks on end, whilst barnacles grew on the hull, making the ship still heavier and harder to move. Some were driven mad, at best it meant days in a long boat towing the ship by oar power alone, with death from hunger, thirst or scurvy, the inevitable result if they failed to break out or find some breeze,
A cheerful thought to end on, will post again next week.
INTO THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE
A.O. Ascension Island
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A.O. Ascension Island
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Tuesday 12th we sailed along the coast of Ascension Island a bleak looking piece of rock, bristling with dishes, aerials, domes and an enormous runway capable of handling the biggest planes available, as befits the premier American base in the region. Having clicked happily away, photographing all this diverse military hardware as it paraded before me, I am expecting to be arrested on arrival back home, or at the very least offered a leading role in the next bond movie.
Wednesday 13th, at last a day dawned fair, the sun a golden disc climbed from the sea into a cloudless blue sky. Its rays warm at first. soon became hot, though a gentle warm breeze made for a glorious day as the ship crossed the equator, or line as the seamen call it, and entered the southern hemisphere. Here we gathered around the ships swimming pool. Whilst two teams, one representing Artemis and the other King Neptune, did battle to save the ship from the dastardly deeds, Neptune and his cohorts from the depths of the ocean, visit upon the unwary, ill prepared or disrespectful voyager.
Two young crewmen who had not previously crossed the line were brought out, handcuffed, gagged and bound to a stanchion. Nubile young ladies appeared and began to douse the helpless victims in gravy, custard and other noxious substances, before throwing plates of cream in there faces. Buckets of ice cubes appeared and were with great ceremony, poured down the sitting victims trouser fronts, remaining trapped there and freezing there assets, much to the delight of countless women passengers. Sadists these older ladies, glad I wasn’t the victim, didn’t fancy it at all. The price for the young of breaking out on there own, can sometimes painful I suppose.
A.O. Equator & Ascension Island
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Eventually of course Artemis emerged victorious in the nick of time, the young victims escaped helped by their tormentors and all was well with the nautical world. Except the weather changed, the sun disappeared, winds picked up, driving cloud and rain squalls across the ship and it stayed this way until we reached St Helena.
On top of this Anne’s back which had seemed to be getting better, was now extremely painful and as the landing at St. Helena was by Ships tender it was obvious that Anne could not make it. So, it’s back to the hospital. The Doctors, now very concerned had taken advice on the x-rays from medics ashore and although the quality was not good, it was felt nothing was broken, a course of steroid tablets were prescribed. And while Anne, settled down in the cabin, to read. I jumped a tender and headed ashore.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The approach and harbour area of St Helena give the impression of a brown, inhospitable, rocky environment. Indeed it is from here that the famouse Jacobs Ladder starts 699 concrete steps once the only way to get people and goods to the cliff top.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
I grabbed a taxi, did a deal for a quick one and a quarter hour tour, and was soon off, stopping on route for photo opportunities as they appeared. It soon became evident that first impressions were wrong, although the island is of volcanic origin and therefore hilly it is by no means brown, but green and tropically lush. Her size, a mere 47 square miles, precludes Helena from being self supporting; she therefore imports the majority of her food from South Africa by ship. But grows enough corn to feed the cattle that supply its milk, potato is also farmed, and everywhere the flax plants that provided the raw material for rope and string making, once the principle income provider, and export from the island, grows wild in the hedgerows.
But mostly it is a riot of plants, trees, and flowers, many of them catalogued by Charles Darwin on his way through on the Beagle. And the island is surprisingly ranked in biological importance alongside the Galapagos Islands. Coincidently one of the inhabitants, I was able to photograph, was a two hundred year old tortoise, roaming free in a meadow next to the governors house. Wouldn’t you know that some stupid woman from the ship thought it amusing to plant her foot in the middle of the tortoises back and get her husband to” take a picture”, like the big game hunters of old, real berks some of these old women, it is so difficult not say something, but not worth the trouble it would cause on board.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Situated 700 miles from Ascension Island and 1200 miles from Africa it is one of the loneliest islands in the world, with only the odd ship breaking the daily routine of the islanders (who call themselves Saints). Consequently they love visitors, are warm, friendly and very proud of there Englishness, being are a crown colony, and about 70% of there budget comes from the U.K
My taxi driver like many of the islands men had spent time working for the Americans on Ascension and the British in the Falklands earning the money to buy his cab and indeed many of the bigger houses on the island are owned and financed by people who do exactly this.
The houses themselves are bright and gaily coloured and apart from the vehicles it is very much an island where time has stood still, a fun place, a glad I came here sort of place, made so, as much by the people, as the scenic splendour of there rocky home.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Of course you cannot leave St Helena without talking about its most famous guest. Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled here by the British, for the last six years of his life, guarded by 3000 troops and eleven ships, he lived in regal isolation, at war with a vitriolic and mean spirited governor, who jealous of the man he held captive was as disingenuous as his powers allowed him to be. Napoleon finally died of cancer, was buried on the island after having his heart cut out, until finally being returned to France 19 years late
All too soon it was time for me to return to the ship, a unique and enchanting place St Helena, I watched from the stern as she receded and slipped below the horizon, sad that my trip was so brief, impressed by her lovely people and hopeful that one day I might return and do her justice. But Artemis turned her nose to Africa, Namibia awaits.
Sunday the 17th
The tablets have worked a miracle, Anne is as free of pain and more mobile than I have seen her in fifteen years, she has only been given a few though, they are dangerous. Anaesthetic patches have been ordered from our next port of call, something else to try. Life is never dull
Weather still gloomy and overcast, sun worshippers not happy, but we press on.
Tues 19th
We nosed our way into Walvis Bay Namibia, Its early morning, the sands of the desert reflect the light from the morning sun, flat lands, unimpressive when viewed from the sea, no Africa smell here.
A.O. Namibia,Wavis Bay, Namid Desert 103 (Medium) (2)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A shuttle takes us into town about 4km, again nothing much to see a few supermarkets, and the desert encroaching into the town. I left my glasses case which contained some notes I had made, on a bench in a small shopping mall, returning twenty minutes later not expecting to find it, a young man sitting on the bench says security has it and a uniform walks over and returns it to me, reckon I would have lost that in England, one up to Africa. Anne bought some bits and we returned to the ship, lunch and then off to take a tour.
This was desert like I hadn’t seen before, large 170 foot high sand dunes marching alongside the arrow straight, up and down road. Dune number seven is commercialised, Quad bikes buzzing around, people climbing the dune and skimming down on a piece of old carpet, lino or board, looked great fun. One dad buried, his head sticking from the sand as an army of kids shovelled away, shouts and laughter, black faces beaming, white teeth, this is Africa. Take my photos, climb back on the bus and away.
A.O. Namibia,Wavis Bay, Namid Desert 040 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The road leads deep into the dessert, magnificent nature, harsh even under the overcast sky, the dunes becoming starker as we move inland, leaving behind the coastal cloud, the early afternoon sun really gets to work, driving up the temperature.
Mans encroachment is evident, if not in the sand covered road that causes each vehicle to tow a cloud of white swirling dust behind it, then in the march of the telegraph poles along the road. Then a new phenomenon appears, a pumping station pushing water from a river deep underground through a 12” diameter pipe that joins the road and the poles journey across the dessert, mile after mile they run parallel, dwarfed by the vastness of the unending sand.
We see a small heard of Antelope and some Ostrich in the distance, nothing else moves, but the occasional vehicle or road workers.
Finally we too stop, and the desert reveals another of nature’s miracles, the prehistoric Welwitschia Mirablis plants described by some as a wilted lettuce, it only has two leaves in a lifetime that can last for over 500 years. these leaves meander and twist around themselves forming a plant perhaps six foot in diameter, each leaf is in different stages of repair along its length, dependant on the ravages of time, but seemingly able to sustain life along the whole leaf, despite its damaged parts, it survives here in the hostile dessert landscape, as it has done since long before man walked the earth.
A.O. Namibia,Wavis Bay, Namid Desert 065 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
We turn back towards the coast and enter a different land again, an area of eroded valleys and hills known as the lunar landscape, though 20 miles inland it is covered and sustained by the sea fog that rolls in with the cloud cover and provides the moister that feeds the many types of lichen that thrive here. We stopped at a viewpoint to take our photo’s and ate from a tasty buffet laid out in tents, Asparagus is apparently grown in Namibia, at any rate the platefuls provided here with dips were delicious, although I gave the wine a miss, dehydration is easy enough out here without chancing your arm.
A.O. Namibia,Wavis Bay, Namid Desert 098 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Namib Desert runs all along the Namibian South West coast, is four times the size of the UK and believed by many to be the oldest desert in the world, much older for example than the Kalahari that lies in the east of Namibia.
The people, difficult to tell as we didn’t meet many, certainly the taxi drivers have to be treated with caution; we had to bail out a very old couple who had been charged £10 pounds, for a ride we had negotiated down to less than two. We gave them some South African rand, told them to tell the drivers they had no dollars and when we later saw them on the ship they were well pleased with there own newly learnt negotiating skills. On the other hand as I said earlier my glass case didn’t disappear. What this had to do with the security, and what security actually means I don’t know.
The journey back to the ship through the dunes made the desert look different again; the setting sun low in the sky highlighted some parts of the dunes, whilst casting shadows on others, and the wind has sculptured each dune differently. Convex and concave walls looked eerily beautiful in the differing light as the suns angle changed. Some magic photos were there for the taking, but unfortunately tour busses, like time, wait for no man, when there is a ship to meet. So the camera stayed in its case and we made the deadline
The roads had bounced Anne around somewhat and her back was again hurting, but a new pill regime and the anaesthetic patches were waiting when we boarded the ship, I applied them as directed and within the hour she was comfortable again, So it would appear we have it under control..
Next day found us still in Namibia in a port called Luderitz. Here was our first real taste of the dark side of Africa. Firstly our berth had been let out to someone else, so we had to drop anchor one and a quarter miles offshore and land by tender. Having paid a pilot to bring in the ship this far, we were now delayed a further couple of hours as the local authorities wanted a paid pilot on every tender, blackmail, extortion you name it. Eventually a deal was done, money changed hands and the crew got on with the job of running us ashore. This is the real African problem up front, graft and corruption rules. The likes of Nigeria, Zimbabwe and Kenya are just the tip of the iceberg, it is endemic across the continent, we will return to this later.
A.O. Namibia. Luderitz,Namid Desert 008 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Luderitz is a town of many languages, Afrikaans, local dialects and several European languages can be heard on the streets although the official language is English. The town itself has a sort of old worldly feel to it, reminiscent of my youth. Not that the architecture is English the town in fact having been founded by the Germans and the influence is there to see.
Incidentally they also set up one of their infamous concentration camps here imprisoning the men women and children of the indigenous tribes over a seven year period starting in 1900 a role play and taste of things to come elsewhere perhaps, as 80% of the inmates did not survive imprisonment.
We browsed a bit found Anne’s magnets and then retired to a good restaurant overlooking the harbour and had lunch. Prices are incredibly cheap here adding to that oldie worldly feeling, many of the shops display old fashioned tin signs advertising, I would imagine, long defunct products, at least I had not heard of them, though some like the ubiquitous Coca Cola are still obviously household names. Lager at 80 pence a pint would no doubt interest some.
We idled an hour and a half away chatting to some White Afrikaans desperate for the future of the land of there birth, where they had also raised families. The belief that the death of Nelson Mandela who they think has performed miracles, will lead to an uprising and bloodbath, on the Zimbabwe scale seems well established among white South Africans, of all persuasions, coach guides I talked to, expressed the same views. These are all old hands and seemed resigned to a continent, weakened by the Aids epidemic sweeping the country and the graft and corruption at all levels of society, falling into disarray and into the hands of some despot dictator or other.
Once again it seems the UK in particular and Europe in general, will pick up the bill as the whites dust down the E.U. passports they have kept for a rainy day and head out, leaving most that they own behind them. Many of the youngsters have left already.
Pity then, that economic mercenaries, like Peter Haine MP, born in Kenya of white stock, sometime South African, and now busily trying to scheme the assimilation of Britain, the country he currently professes allegiance too, into a European partnership the majority of its people don’t want. Doesn’t pack his bag, return to his roots and help in the fight to save the Africa, he used to confess to loving. No chance of course, whilst there are richer pickings in Whitehall.
Lunch finished we joined our coach for a ride out to a ghost town. The Namib Desert here was different again from yesterday, much rockier, with sharp ridged shale protruding from the sand. Patches of greenery much in evidence, again watered by the coastal fog and the rain from the night before, this is the rainy season. We crossed this inhospitable belt of rock on a fine new road; it must have been a nightmare on foot or horseback before roads. The sharp rocks would make short work of leather or hoofs.
A.O. Namibia. Luderitz,Namid Desert 016 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Kolmanskop the ghost town was a thriving community built in 1908 as diamonds were literally being picked up here, expanded to its peak by the 1920s and gradually declining with the diamond stock, until its abandonment in the 1950’s as the miners moved on to the mouth of the orange river and new finds.
A.O. Namibia. Luderitz,Namid Desert 018 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Now substantial old houses, a testament to the former opulence of the area have been reclaimed by the desert and lie soulless, like a western movie set, gradually disappearing beneath the wind blown sands. Ludicrously perched in the sand is a bathtub, once part of an adjacent house, now derelict, it walls pushed over by the weight of sand pressing against them, the floor collapsing as they went pitching the tub, once someone’s pride and joy I expect, out into the desert. I wonder how and from where it had travelled, in those far off days to get here. One of our guides was born here, how sad it must be visiting your former home on a daily basis as it falls apart.
Luderitz apart from being oldie worldly is also a substantial port and the gateway to much of central Namibia. It will have a crucial role to play in the development of this country, though much of it is desert and sparsely populated.
Its people badly treated over the years, have I think more testing years ahead. I wish it well.
On board we prepare for dinner as Artemis, stows her boats, sounds her horn and heads for the open sea and a 36 hour run to Cape Town.
A.O.Capetown
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
5.30 in the morning, dawn just breaking, the sun rising low over the land, its rays dancing across the calm sea, ripples flashing gold and silver, reach out towards the ship. Through the haze, outlined against a blue sky, can be seen the classic view, table mountain, the lions head and signal mountain. We creep on in an almost silent world; the engines muted the sea gurgling at the bow, quite a change for this trip.
A.O.Capetown Harbour
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
What hasn’t changed is Africa, despite prior arrangements and us meeting our laid down deadlines, the captain is informed that the pilots have decided not to come out until the new shift starts at 8 O’clock, he sounds well peeved on the tannoy. We creep closer and wait. I put my camera away and go down for breakfast.
A.O.Capetown Harbour
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
8.45 we enter the harbour; the haze has gone, though Table Mountain now sports a table cloth, a flat cloud that lies horizontally across the mountain top, no sign of the wind that is supposed to blow so often here, instead a gentle breeze flutters the flags, the sun shines and all is peaceful. As Artemis ties up and lets its passengers stream down the gangplanks and away.
A.O.Capetown Harbour
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
We jump the first available shuttle coach and head to the waterfront, magnets and hand made chocolates purchased I settle down with a friend for a coffee at an outdoor café overlooking table mountain, marvellous. Our waitress a tall, willowy, graceful, Zulu girl, with a superbly boned face, that lights up when she laughs, which she does all the time, as we chat, tells us with pride about her city. But warns us of the dangers for the unwary tourist, she really was a joy.
Anne returns from clothes shopping to join us, we wander back slowly taking in the sights, the stalls, the street performers, I even buy a CD from a troupe of percussionist playing on home made drums and instruments.
Reluctantly we return to the ship, swap coaches and head for the cable car, and a ride up Table Mountain. As we queued, from nowhere came a gust of wind, plucked my much travelled Tilley hat from my head, sending it over the railings and down the mountain side. Disaster, consternation, my hat, must have it, how can I get down, probably ok, how do I get back, with difficulty, god will these arms pull this fat old man back up. Anne panicking says leave it, we will get another one, you’ve got another one, don’t be stupid, leave it. Me reluctant I like that hat. It cost 50 quid.
Meanwhile a young South African man, early twenties, standing behind us, quietly removes his back pack, vaults the railings, scrambles down and returns hat in hand. He is quiet, casual, and understated, class, well done, thanks, he smiles, “no problem, have a good trip, enjoy Cape Town” So within hour’s South African youth, black and white has impressed me, there has to be a future for a country with such young people, I do hope so
The ride up the mountain is great but uneventful the cars with there revolving floors give a panoramic view of the city and surrounding areas, lovely views, lots of photo’s, more magnets at the top, a cold drink on a by now scorching day.
After an hour, we do the return journey to the ship. Rest for a while, send text messages to the kids at home and at 6.30 catch another coach.
This one heads up Signal Hill, so named as this has been the early warning observation post, since the earliest settlers arrived. Here for a couple of hours we drink Champaign, eat oysters and canapés; enjoying the views as the setting sun, brings another stunning day to a close.
9. O’clock. Finds us back at the waterfront, illuminated now, and crowded with people sitting out, eating and drinking, enjoying the entertainment and the balmy evening. We head for the Victoria and Alfred Hotel,( yes that is right, her son not her husband), and settle down to a memorable meal, of crab cakes, huge lobsters, and sweets to die for, all washed down with South African Wine and coffee.
Then an after dinner stroll back through the late diners, before catching the last shuttle to the ship, where a deck party was in full swing as we weighed anchor and sailed out of the harbour at midnight. Bound for Port Elizabeth
Just three days to Christmas now, we have sailed 6650 nautical miles since leaving Southampton on the second of December.
We arrived at Port Elizabeth on a Sunday that was also Christmas Eve it was shut, that was it really. . Christmas will follow next post
Monday 11th December, 5 PM
Artemis is a changed lady, gone is the embattled warrior of the past week, her confrontation with the wild seas behind her, she heads for her next landfall. A gentle, almost smug feel has settled about her in the last hour or so, as seas moderate, clouds part and the African sun shows itself for the first time.
The passengers have changed with the ship and conditions, claiming space and position on the deck, to warm bruised and in many cases tired bones, sleep having been at a premium for some. Seasickness is a wretched condition, not always fully appreciated by those who are lucky enough never to have experienced it. Fear too has played its part, a rocking cabin, on a creaking, groaning, banging ship, throughout the darkest hours of the night, is not everybody’s idea of Utopia. Although personally speaking, I have loved it. Apart from Anne’s injury of course, which, for a while with the doctors talking of CT scans, seemed likely to put us prematurely ashore.
A.O. St. Vincent
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Harbour Entrance
Our short break in St Vincent, one of the Cape Verde islands was good for morale, allowing cramped muscle to be exercised with a walk of around a mile to the town, which being Sunday was shut of course. There were shuttle buses laid on if you didn’t want or couldn’t manage the walk, we went in by shuttle and then walked slowly back. Though the buildings were by and large bright and colourful, poverty was apparent everywhere, with beggars and homeless asleep in doorways, the hawkers selling the normal beads and carvings seemed cheerful and happy enough with none of the understandable surliness and resentment that is found is many other places.
A.O. St. Vincent
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The islands importance as a staging post for the slave trade has resulted in a population, that are very much of mixed race and although all were given Portuguese nationality some years ago, they continued to demand and finally got independence. They are however despite fish, bananas and coffee being exported, far from independent in real terms, and rely on foreign aid for their survival. A life expectancy much shorter than in the richer parts of the world means that three quarters of the population is under thirty, with 90% of the over twenty fives still unable to read or write. Education is now becoming sort of compulsory, in the laid back African way, so perhaps the future will be brighter
The harbour itself was full of working boats, small coasters and tankers which ply their trade around the coast of Africa and across to these islands, which lie some 400 miles off the coast of Senegal and are the most westerly point of Africa. The islands are volcanic and rocky, with only 10% suitable for agriculture. The harbour itself a volcanic crater that the sea has breached on one side, is a fine deep water anchorage. On the other side, the hills have formed a realistic outline of a mans face lying on its back, said by locals to be Napoleon or George Washington, depending on the nationality they are talking to, we were told it was god. Whoever he is, we watched him drop astern as we waved goodbye to this isolated, less than inviting outpost of European colonisation. Set in the tropics though it is. St Vincent is far from being a paradise and we left her shrouded in the heat haze that had thwarted the photographers on board all day
A.O. St. Vincent 051
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The face in the mountains
.Seas, mountains, deserts, the unspoilt wild places of this beautiful planet, in all its moods, fascinate this traveller, fat and hopelessly out of condition though he is, able only to view them from the outside, and not with the head on involvement, of a younger, fitter man. But still seeing enough to know, that the more beautiful the place the more abject the poverty, is a fair summation. The hunger and deprivation apparent at so many landfalls make our privileged lifestyle, particularly the masses of food available on this ship; seem wrong and inappropriate, if not downright immoral. Not that our abstinence would make one iota of difference of course, given the corruption that also pervades these places. Anything provided ends up not in the stomachs of the needy, that provoke the gesture, but in the coffers of the elite that run the show, wherever in the developing world you might be.
Back onboard humour plays its part, the orchestra joined us from a Bermudan cruise missing a musician, I reckon it’s the triangle player. Another oddity has been the rise in conversations among older people of the term Love Child; I suppose a much nicer word than the term I grew up with, but not quite so easy to use at a football match I fear, when the ref offends.
You may remember that we were due to visit Tenerife after leaving Madeira, but were forced to cancel this in order to make up lost time, strange then that the official ships cruise shirt, printed prior to the voyage and sold in the ships shop, from day one, list’s every port we are due to visit en route, but doesn’t include Tenerife, conspiracy theory anyone.
It is now midday Tuesday the Dec 12 and we are crossing the mid Atlantic ridge the highest range of mountains in the world. These subterranean peaks are beloved by submariners, who it seems play hide and seek among and around them trying to steal a march on each other and test their latest James Bond like gadgetry. The weather outside is fine, the sea still a bit choppy as the winds continue to blow even though we are officially in the doldrums, indeed we cross the equator tomorrow at around midday and no doubt the ships crew will conduct the relevant ceremony to appease Neptune, but more of that next time. Anne is of course positioned on the upper front deck worshiping her sun god, intent on cooking herself until in her evening shower she resembles a zebra, so dark does she go.
Saturday we reach St. Helena a speck in the Atlantic, perhaps most famous for its use as a final prison for Napoleon, but again more of that later. In the meantime we have such taxing culinary decisions to make, that’s apart from or instead off the normal silver service in the main restaurant morning, noon and night. Should we go to the Pasta and Pizza buffet being served right now, then there is the Spanish buffet tomorrow lunchtime and we are already booked for the Indian buffet dinner Friday night. Food in all its diverse forms is a never ending parade here. Anne and I tend to miss most of it, settling mainly for a small breakfast and the evening meal, and occasionally a bit of curry or noodle mid day. We have, however, a friend, a former hotelier from Blackpool and a sun worshiper on a par with Anne, who has breakfast around 7.30. Tea and cake mid morning, lunch at mid day, a cream tea, scones, jam, cream, and cake 3.30 ish, dinner, usually steak or salmon at 7 Pm., watches a show or film and then adjourns to the restaurant, for cake, chips, chicken or what have you, at 11PM . Unbelievable and yet he is no fatty, life can be a bitch and so unfair.
3. PM Tuesday
The weather has changed again, gone is the sun, in its place a windless, airless calm, typical of the doldrums, thick fog shrouds it all, magnifying sound, so Artemis’s unseen bow wave, as she travels at a steady 17.5 knots, sounds like the breakers on the beach.
Back in the days of sail, Mariners dreaded these conditions, becalmed, with the sails hanging limp and lifeless on the masts, sometimes for weeks on end, whilst barnacles grew on the hull, making the ship still heavier and harder to move. Some were driven mad, at best it meant days in a long boat towing the ship by oar power alone, with death from hunger, thirst or scurvy, the inevitable result if they failed to break out or find some breeze,
A cheerful thought to end on, will post again next week.
INTO THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE
A.O. Ascension Island
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Looming Clouds Again
A.O. Ascension Island
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
American Gadgets
Tuesday 12th we sailed along the coast of Ascension Island a bleak looking piece of rock, bristling with dishes, aerials, domes and an enormous runway capable of handling the biggest planes available, as befits the premier American base in the region. Having clicked happily away, photographing all this diverse military hardware as it paraded before me, I am expecting to be arrested on arrival back home, or at the very least offered a leading role in the next bond movie.
Wednesday 13th, at last a day dawned fair, the sun a golden disc climbed from the sea into a cloudless blue sky. Its rays warm at first. soon became hot, though a gentle warm breeze made for a glorious day as the ship crossed the equator, or line as the seamen call it, and entered the southern hemisphere. Here we gathered around the ships swimming pool. Whilst two teams, one representing Artemis and the other King Neptune, did battle to save the ship from the dastardly deeds, Neptune and his cohorts from the depths of the ocean, visit upon the unwary, ill prepared or disrespectful voyager.
Two young crewmen who had not previously crossed the line were brought out, handcuffed, gagged and bound to a stanchion. Nubile young ladies appeared and began to douse the helpless victims in gravy, custard and other noxious substances, before throwing plates of cream in there faces. Buckets of ice cubes appeared and were with great ceremony, poured down the sitting victims trouser fronts, remaining trapped there and freezing there assets, much to the delight of countless women passengers. Sadists these older ladies, glad I wasn’t the victim, didn’t fancy it at all. The price for the young of breaking out on there own, can sometimes painful I suppose.
A.O. Equator & Ascension Island
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Crossing the Line,
Eventually of course Artemis emerged victorious in the nick of time, the young victims escaped helped by their tormentors and all was well with the nautical world. Except the weather changed, the sun disappeared, winds picked up, driving cloud and rain squalls across the ship and it stayed this way until we reached St Helena.
On top of this Anne’s back which had seemed to be getting better, was now extremely painful and as the landing at St. Helena was by Ships tender it was obvious that Anne could not make it. So, it’s back to the hospital. The Doctors, now very concerned had taken advice on the x-rays from medics ashore and although the quality was not good, it was felt nothing was broken, a course of steroid tablets were prescribed. And while Anne, settled down in the cabin, to read. I jumped a tender and headed ashore.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A ships tender, our transport ashore
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
St Helena Harbour
The approach and harbour area of St Helena give the impression of a brown, inhospitable, rocky environment. Indeed it is from here that the famouse Jacobs Ladder starts 699 concrete steps once the only way to get people and goods to the cliff top.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Jacobs Ladder. Only 699 Steps
I grabbed a taxi, did a deal for a quick one and a quarter hour tour, and was soon off, stopping on route for photo opportunities as they appeared. It soon became evident that first impressions were wrong, although the island is of volcanic origin and therefore hilly it is by no means brown, but green and tropically lush. Her size, a mere 47 square miles, precludes Helena from being self supporting; she therefore imports the majority of her food from South Africa by ship. But grows enough corn to feed the cattle that supply its milk, potato is also farmed, and everywhere the flax plants that provided the raw material for rope and string making, once the principle income provider, and export from the island, grows wild in the hedgerows.
But mostly it is a riot of plants, trees, and flowers, many of them catalogued by Charles Darwin on his way through on the Beagle. And the island is surprisingly ranked in biological importance alongside the Galapagos Islands. Coincidently one of the inhabitants, I was able to photograph, was a two hundred year old tortoise, roaming free in a meadow next to the governors house. Wouldn’t you know that some stupid woman from the ship thought it amusing to plant her foot in the middle of the tortoises back and get her husband to” take a picture”, like the big game hunters of old, real berks some of these old women, it is so difficult not say something, but not worth the trouble it would cause on board.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Two Hundred and Happy
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Govt. House
Situated 700 miles from Ascension Island and 1200 miles from Africa it is one of the loneliest islands in the world, with only the odd ship breaking the daily routine of the islanders (who call themselves Saints). Consequently they love visitors, are warm, friendly and very proud of there Englishness, being are a crown colony, and about 70% of there budget comes from the U.K
My taxi driver like many of the islands men had spent time working for the Americans on Ascension and the British in the Falklands earning the money to buy his cab and indeed many of the bigger houses on the island are owned and financed by people who do exactly this.
The houses themselves are bright and gaily coloured and apart from the vehicles it is very much an island where time has stood still, a fun place, a glad I came here sort of place, made so, as much by the people, as the scenic splendour of there rocky home.
A.O. St. Helena
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Main St.
Of course you cannot leave St Helena without talking about its most famous guest. Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled here by the British, for the last six years of his life, guarded by 3000 troops and eleven ships, he lived in regal isolation, at war with a vitriolic and mean spirited governor, who jealous of the man he held captive was as disingenuous as his powers allowed him to be. Napoleon finally died of cancer, was buried on the island after having his heart cut out, until finally being returned to France 19 years late
All too soon it was time for me to return to the ship, a unique and enchanting place St Helena, I watched from the stern as she receded and slipped below the horizon, sad that my trip was so brief, impressed by her lovely people and hopeful that one day I might return and do her justice. But Artemis turned her nose to Africa, Namibia awaits.
Sunday the 17th
The tablets have worked a miracle, Anne is as free of pain and more mobile than I have seen her in fifteen years, she has only been given a few though, they are dangerous. Anaesthetic patches have been ordered from our next port of call, something else to try. Life is never dull
Weather still gloomy and overcast, sun worshippers not happy, but we press on.
Tues 19th
We nosed our way into Walvis Bay Namibia, Its early morning, the sands of the desert reflect the light from the morning sun, flat lands, unimpressive when viewed from the sea, no Africa smell here.
A.O. Namibia,Wavis Bay, Namid Desert 103 (Medium) (2)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Mother aqnd Daughter
A shuttle takes us into town about 4km, again nothing much to see a few supermarkets, and the desert encroaching into the town. I left my glasses case which contained some notes I had made, on a bench in a small shopping mall, returning twenty minutes later not expecting to find it, a young man sitting on the bench says security has it and a uniform walks over and returns it to me, reckon I would have lost that in England, one up to Africa. Anne bought some bits and we returned to the ship, lunch and then off to take a tour.
This was desert like I hadn’t seen before, large 170 foot high sand dunes marching alongside the arrow straight, up and down road. Dune number seven is commercialised, Quad bikes buzzing around, people climbing the dune and skimming down on a piece of old carpet, lino or board, looked great fun. One dad buried, his head sticking from the sand as an army of kids shovelled away, shouts and laughter, black faces beaming, white teeth, this is Africa. Take my photos, climb back on the bus and away.
A.O. Namibia,Wavis Bay, Namid Desert 040 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Sliding Down the Dunes
The road leads deep into the dessert, magnificent nature, harsh even under the overcast sky, the dunes becoming starker as we move inland, leaving behind the coastal cloud, the early afternoon sun really gets to work, driving up the temperature.
Mans encroachment is evident, if not in the sand covered road that causes each vehicle to tow a cloud of white swirling dust behind it, then in the march of the telegraph poles along the road. Then a new phenomenon appears, a pumping station pushing water from a river deep underground through a 12” diameter pipe that joins the road and the poles journey across the dessert, mile after mile they run parallel, dwarfed by the vastness of the unending sand.
We see a small heard of Antelope and some Ostrich in the distance, nothing else moves, but the occasional vehicle or road workers.
Finally we too stop, and the desert reveals another of nature’s miracles, the prehistoric Welwitschia Mirablis plants described by some as a wilted lettuce, it only has two leaves in a lifetime that can last for over 500 years. these leaves meander and twist around themselves forming a plant perhaps six foot in diameter, each leaf is in different stages of repair along its length, dependant on the ravages of time, but seemingly able to sustain life along the whole leaf, despite its damaged parts, it survives here in the hostile dessert landscape, as it has done since long before man walked the earth.
A.O. Namibia,Wavis Bay, Namid Desert 065 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
Perhaps 500 years old and still living
We turn back towards the coast and enter a different land again, an area of eroded valleys and hills known as the lunar landscape, though 20 miles inland it is covered and sustained by the sea fog that rolls in with the cloud cover and provides the moister that feeds the many types of lichen that thrive here. We stopped at a viewpoint to take our photo’s and ate from a tasty buffet laid out in tents, Asparagus is apparently grown in Namibia, at any rate the platefuls provided here with dips were delicious, although I gave the wine a miss, dehydration is easy enough out here without chancing your arm.
A.O. Namibia,Wavis Bay, Namid Desert 098 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Namib Desert runs all along the Namibian South West coast, is four times the size of the UK and believed by many to be the oldest desert in the world, much older for example than the Kalahari that lies in the east of Namibia.
The people, difficult to tell as we didn’t meet many, certainly the taxi drivers have to be treated with caution; we had to bail out a very old couple who had been charged £10 pounds, for a ride we had negotiated down to less than two. We gave them some South African rand, told them to tell the drivers they had no dollars and when we later saw them on the ship they were well pleased with there own newly learnt negotiating skills. On the other hand as I said earlier my glass case didn’t disappear. What this had to do with the security, and what security actually means I don’t know.
The journey back to the ship through the dunes made the desert look different again; the setting sun low in the sky highlighted some parts of the dunes, whilst casting shadows on others, and the wind has sculptured each dune differently. Convex and concave walls looked eerily beautiful in the differing light as the suns angle changed. Some magic photos were there for the taking, but unfortunately tour busses, like time, wait for no man, when there is a ship to meet. So the camera stayed in its case and we made the deadline
The roads had bounced Anne around somewhat and her back was again hurting, but a new pill regime and the anaesthetic patches were waiting when we boarded the ship, I applied them as directed and within the hour she was comfortable again, So it would appear we have it under control..
Next day found us still in Namibia in a port called Luderitz. Here was our first real taste of the dark side of Africa. Firstly our berth had been let out to someone else, so we had to drop anchor one and a quarter miles offshore and land by tender. Having paid a pilot to bring in the ship this far, we were now delayed a further couple of hours as the local authorities wanted a paid pilot on every tender, blackmail, extortion you name it. Eventually a deal was done, money changed hands and the crew got on with the job of running us ashore. This is the real African problem up front, graft and corruption rules. The likes of Nigeria, Zimbabwe and Kenya are just the tip of the iceberg, it is endemic across the continent, we will return to this later.
A.O. Namibia. Luderitz,Namid Desert 008 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Harbour at Luderitz
Luderitz is a town of many languages, Afrikaans, local dialects and several European languages can be heard on the streets although the official language is English. The town itself has a sort of old worldly feel to it, reminiscent of my youth. Not that the architecture is English the town in fact having been founded by the Germans and the influence is there to see.
Incidentally they also set up one of their infamous concentration camps here imprisoning the men women and children of the indigenous tribes over a seven year period starting in 1900 a role play and taste of things to come elsewhere perhaps, as 80% of the inmates did not survive imprisonment.
We browsed a bit found Anne’s magnets and then retired to a good restaurant overlooking the harbour and had lunch. Prices are incredibly cheap here adding to that oldie worldly feeling, many of the shops display old fashioned tin signs advertising, I would imagine, long defunct products, at least I had not heard of them, though some like the ubiquitous Coca Cola are still obviously household names. Lager at 80 pence a pint would no doubt interest some.
We idled an hour and a half away chatting to some White Afrikaans desperate for the future of the land of there birth, where they had also raised families. The belief that the death of Nelson Mandela who they think has performed miracles, will lead to an uprising and bloodbath, on the Zimbabwe scale seems well established among white South Africans, of all persuasions, coach guides I talked to, expressed the same views. These are all old hands and seemed resigned to a continent, weakened by the Aids epidemic sweeping the country and the graft and corruption at all levels of society, falling into disarray and into the hands of some despot dictator or other.
Once again it seems the UK in particular and Europe in general, will pick up the bill as the whites dust down the E.U. passports they have kept for a rainy day and head out, leaving most that they own behind them. Many of the youngsters have left already.
Pity then, that economic mercenaries, like Peter Haine MP, born in Kenya of white stock, sometime South African, and now busily trying to scheme the assimilation of Britain, the country he currently professes allegiance too, into a European partnership the majority of its people don’t want. Doesn’t pack his bag, return to his roots and help in the fight to save the Africa, he used to confess to loving. No chance of course, whilst there are richer pickings in Whitehall.
Lunch finished we joined our coach for a ride out to a ghost town. The Namib Desert here was different again from yesterday, much rockier, with sharp ridged shale protruding from the sand. Patches of greenery much in evidence, again watered by the coastal fog and the rain from the night before, this is the rainy season. We crossed this inhospitable belt of rock on a fine new road; it must have been a nightmare on foot or horseback before roads. The sharp rocks would make short work of leather or hoofs.
A.O. Namibia. Luderitz,Namid Desert 016 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A Mansion Built on Sand
Kolmanskop the ghost town was a thriving community built in 1908 as diamonds were literally being picked up here, expanded to its peak by the 1920s and gradually declining with the diamond stock, until its abandonment in the 1950’s as the miners moved on to the mouth of the orange river and new finds.
A.O. Namibia. Luderitz,Namid Desert 018 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The Sand Crushes the Walls and Tosses out the Bathtub
Now substantial old houses, a testament to the former opulence of the area have been reclaimed by the desert and lie soulless, like a western movie set, gradually disappearing beneath the wind blown sands. Ludicrously perched in the sand is a bathtub, once part of an adjacent house, now derelict, it walls pushed over by the weight of sand pressing against them, the floor collapsing as they went pitching the tub, once someone’s pride and joy I expect, out into the desert. I wonder how and from where it had travelled, in those far off days to get here. One of our guides was born here, how sad it must be visiting your former home on a daily basis as it falls apart.
Luderitz apart from being oldie worldly is also a substantial port and the gateway to much of central Namibia. It will have a crucial role to play in the development of this country, though much of it is desert and sparsely populated.
Its people badly treated over the years, have I think more testing years ahead. I wish it well.
On board we prepare for dinner as Artemis, stows her boats, sounds her horn and heads for the open sea and a 36 hour run to Cape Town.
A.O.Capetown
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The first rays of the morning sun, backlight table mountain
5.30 in the morning, dawn just breaking, the sun rising low over the land, its rays dancing across the calm sea, ripples flashing gold and silver, reach out towards the ship. Through the haze, outlined against a blue sky, can be seen the classic view, table mountain, the lions head and signal mountain. We creep on in an almost silent world; the engines muted the sea gurgling at the bow, quite a change for this trip.
A.O.Capetown Harbour
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
The sun rises
What hasn’t changed is Africa, despite prior arrangements and us meeting our laid down deadlines, the captain is informed that the pilots have decided not to come out until the new shift starts at 8 O’clock, he sounds well peeved on the tannoy. We creep closer and wait. I put my camera away and go down for breakfast.
A.O.Capetown Harbour
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
A tablecloth covers the mountain
8.45 we enter the harbour; the haze has gone, though Table Mountain now sports a table cloth, a flat cloud that lies horizontally across the mountain top, no sign of the wind that is supposed to blow so often here, instead a gentle breeze flutters the flags, the sun shines and all is peaceful. As Artemis ties up and lets its passengers stream down the gangplanks and away.
A.O.Capetown Harbour
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
We jump the first available shuttle coach and head to the waterfront, magnets and hand made chocolates purchased I settle down with a friend for a coffee at an outdoor café overlooking table mountain, marvellous. Our waitress a tall, willowy, graceful, Zulu girl, with a superbly boned face, that lights up when she laughs, which she does all the time, as we chat, tells us with pride about her city. But warns us of the dangers for the unwary tourist, she really was a joy.
Anne returns from clothes shopping to join us, we wander back slowly taking in the sights, the stalls, the street performers, I even buy a CD from a troupe of percussionist playing on home made drums and instruments.
Reluctantly we return to the ship, swap coaches and head for the cable car, and a ride up Table Mountain. As we queued, from nowhere came a gust of wind, plucked my much travelled Tilley hat from my head, sending it over the railings and down the mountain side. Disaster, consternation, my hat, must have it, how can I get down, probably ok, how do I get back, with difficulty, god will these arms pull this fat old man back up. Anne panicking says leave it, we will get another one, you’ve got another one, don’t be stupid, leave it. Me reluctant I like that hat. It cost 50 quid.
Meanwhile a young South African man, early twenties, standing behind us, quietly removes his back pack, vaults the railings, scrambles down and returns hat in hand. He is quiet, casual, and understated, class, well done, thanks, he smiles, “no problem, have a good trip, enjoy Cape Town” So within hour’s South African youth, black and white has impressed me, there has to be a future for a country with such young people, I do hope so
The ride up the mountain is great but uneventful the cars with there revolving floors give a panoramic view of the city and surrounding areas, lovely views, lots of photo’s, more magnets at the top, a cold drink on a by now scorching day.
After an hour, we do the return journey to the ship. Rest for a while, send text messages to the kids at home and at 6.30 catch another coach.
This one heads up Signal Hill, so named as this has been the early warning observation post, since the earliest settlers arrived. Here for a couple of hours we drink Champaign, eat oysters and canapés; enjoying the views as the setting sun, brings another stunning day to a close.
9. O’clock. Finds us back at the waterfront, illuminated now, and crowded with people sitting out, eating and drinking, enjoying the entertainment and the balmy evening. We head for the Victoria and Alfred Hotel,( yes that is right, her son not her husband), and settle down to a memorable meal, of crab cakes, huge lobsters, and sweets to die for, all washed down with South African Wine and coffee.
Then an after dinner stroll back through the late diners, before catching the last shuttle to the ship, where a deck party was in full swing as we weighed anchor and sailed out of the harbour at midnight. Bound for Port Elizabeth
Just three days to Christmas now, we have sailed 6650 nautical miles since leaving Southampton on the second of December.
We arrived at Port Elizabeth on a Sunday that was also Christmas Eve it was shut, that was it really. . Christmas will follow next post
Southampton to Madeira
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Southampton to Madeira
Well here we are a week into our journey, and what a journey.
We packed 4 cases and two holdalls. A forty day cruise, though less formal than in days past, still contains a dozen or so formal evenings, therefore evening clothes alone fill a case. A couple of dozen books fill a holdall, so accruing luggage is not a problem.
We sail from Southampton, but return by air from Singapore into Heathrow, for collection and transportation home. So a friend Mick is travelling to Southampton with us and will bring the car home for me.
8.30AM. 2nd Dec. With the cases, Mick, Anne and I set out on a Saturday morning ride to Southampton a doddle of a journey, I had made many times in the past. Perhaps as a warning of things to come my 4x4 started to play up, missing and juddering on every incline, we ignored this and headed for the M40 only to find it blocked and closed. I had left the satellite navigator and maps at home, didn’t need them. “Wrong” Luckily my son was at home when Anne phoned, knew the area and sorted us out. Best part of 5 hours for a normal 3 hour journey, how poor Mick got home, if indeed he did, we still don’t know.
Getting aboard was easy, cases delivered to our cabin and packed away, then off to meet old friends from previous voyages, over a coffee in the restaurant. Last year we had completed a 110 day trip on the same ship so not only were many of the crew familiar to us, but also about 150 of last years passengers like us were at it again
Artemis sailed to the sound of a military band and clinking Champaign glasses as passengers toasted to good luck, little did they know, how we would need it
Our sitting for Dinner is at 6.30 PM, so by the time we sat down, the ship had cleared harbour and was punching her way in the dark, down Southampton water through the Solent, and out into the English Channel. Many passengers had already succumbed to the motion of the ship. Empty chairs in the dinning room reflected this. Shame really the steaks were very good
. Unbeknown to us, we were to be the last vessel out of Southampton, the authorities closing the port behind us and cancelling all the ferries. Storm force winds, that’s about 50 Knots, were lashing the ship and building the seas, with according to our captain, the occasional gust reaching hurricane force
.
Artemis weighing in at 45,000 tons and 230 metres long is capable of 21 knots and a steady average of 18 knots, today however this is reduced by the conditions to a crawl. Steaming into the teeth of the storm, she manages just 350 miles in the first 36 hours.
Clawing her way down the channel, riding the huge 9 Metre swell, that provokes an incessant end to end pitching motion, turning stomachs and liberating dinners, assigning the sufferers to there cabins and beds.
Occasionally she falls off the crest, crashing violently down, and burying her nose deep in the following wave. Her foredeck now drowned in a seething mass of water, sends great plumes of spray down the length of the ship. Then Artimas holds and hesitates for a moment, before lifting herself high and clear to ride the next swell, everything shuddering as the noise reverberates loudly throughout the ship.
Doors are locked with decks off limits to those passengers like us, who are still able to function, many are not. Although Anne with her crutches, is grateful for the hand rails around the ships corridors. Sleep becomes interesting as we slide up and down our beds in concert with the rhythm of the swells, so steep is the pitching. Finally we clear the channel and enter the Bay of Biscay here the water deepens and widens as the bottom falls away, but the seas have travelled thousands of miles to get here and do like to leave there mark, as many an unfortunate sailor has discovered..
Sitting and watching another ship braving these enormous seas, from the safety of a comfortable lounge. I was mindful of a friend, who had once commented, that sailing a small 10 metre yacht, was like caravanning on water, and couldn’t help wondering if his caravans, had ever behaved, as the ship I could see through the window was doing. My admiration for the Helen McCarthy’s of this world grows the more I observe first hand the dangers they face.
Artemis altered course to the west, now the seas were on her beam, she stopped pitching as her stabilisers endeavoured to hold her upright,. The captain who had kept us informed throughout, advised the passengers to go to bed or at least be very careful as the seas were very confused, the swell coming from more than one direction.
That evening we were hit by a big wave that rolled the ship, damaging her stabilisers, crockery, people, the grand piano in the theatre all falling or moving, unassisted and involuntarily across the ship, bars were cleared of optics, booze and glasses. Televisions bounced across cabins, doors slammed and as the motion continued crockery in the kitchen and countless bottles in the wine cellar continued to fall and smash. No one could enter the wine cellar because of the danger and it was left to its own devises while others tasks were undertaken. In those few moments £10,000 pounds worth of booze and crockery was lost.
We returned from the theatre to our cabin to find all shelves and surfaces cleared, broken glasses in the bathroom and our belongings strewn across the beds and floor. Luckily I had left my cameras and the computer on the floor, so no damage. The cabin staff were roused from there beds and within hours all was cleared. The motion continued unabated as the engineers worked to repair the stabilisers, with sudden big lurches catching everyone out and increasing the danger, we decided discretion was the better part of valour and went to bed.
The medical staff however were up working on the casualties until 4 in the morning, on finishing they retired to the mess room, to find the hot buffet laid out for them spread all over the floor, the stewards worked miracles and twenty minutes later had cleared up and provided a new buffet, only to see this too consigned to the floor as the ship lurched again. The Doctors to gave up and went to bed.
We were now into our fourth day and the weather showed no signs of improving, Anne and I were in the restaurant having breakfast sitting at a table for four. Anne on the inside next to the window with another lady sat beside her. I had just returned to the table with two cups of boiling water for coffees, which I placed on the table, immediately they begun to slide as the table tilted, I grabbed them again trying to prevent an accident. We had however been hit by another big sea and as I leaned into the lurch trying to stay upright, still holding the cups on the table, I saw Anne and the woman next to her catapulted, complete with seats across the restaurant, the woman on the outside was nimble enough to get to her feet and hold onto a supporting pillar. Anne however with her arthritis and limited mobility had no chance, and landed on her back across the vacated ladies chair which now lay on its side, whilst at the same time hitting her shoulder on the stone tiled floor, she was in great pain and could not move. Luckily there was an officer present who took charge, organised a doctor and stretcher party and had Anne carried off to the hospital.
The hospital was like a scene from Mash, with injured and bleeding people in every available space, stretchers and walking wounded arriving at regular intervals. Anne was examined given morphine, x-rayed and diagnosed, whist at the same time people were being stitched up alongside her. Luckily she was just severely bruised and her arthritic spine shaken up, they kept her for four hours and then put her to bed in our cabin, now three days later she is almost back to her old self and looking for the sunshine as the seas drop.
Needless to say something had to suffer for all these delays and we arrived 12 hours late at Madeira stayed over night and all the next day whilst they fixed the stabilisers and are now on our way to St Vincent having missed out on a day in Tenerife.
So all in all quite a start to our trip, Artemis is now cruising at 17 knots, we have travelled 700 miles in the last two days and are 70 miles off the most southerly point of the canary islands, the wind is now force 6 and sea have calmed down but are still classified as rough, the sun is attempting to find its way through broken cloud, we have a formal dinner tonight and maybe we can return to normal.
Due to Anne’s injuries we were unable to do much ashore in Madeira apart from purchase some liquid supplies for the cabin but hopefully future postings will be more of the travel kind I had envisaged
posted by Dandan | 6:20 AM | 1 comments
Friday, December 01, 2006
Our Compass
Click on images
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
what a week we have had, cases packed, Christmas presents distributed, cards posted, eyes and glasses tested and approved, hair cut, house sorted. Problems with Blogger that were only rectified with the the generous help of Sheila who drove over at the 11th hour . Car checked and loaded and ready for the 170 mile journey to Southampton tomorrow morning.
Kids spoken to, Christmas greetings exchanged, phone calls made, Fridge emptied, had an Indian meal for supper and now at last settled at the keyboard, to post and email as required, before watching an hour or two of the second ashes test from Australia, don't know if we will catch any more on the ship, lets hope so.
The price of the Dollar just about two for one today, makes me wonder how that will affect the African and asian currencies as we travel, could be some bargains to be had when we get to Singapore in the new year.
So thats us, ready for a holiday we hadnt planned or expected, lets just hope it goes well,
posted by Dandan | 1:30 PM | 1 comments
Southampton to Madeira
Well here we are a week into our journey, and what a journey.
We packed 4 cases and two holdalls. A forty day cruise, though less formal than in days past, still contains a dozen or so formal evenings, therefore evening clothes alone fill a case. A couple of dozen books fill a holdall, so accruing luggage is not a problem.
We sail from Southampton, but return by air from Singapore into Heathrow, for collection and transportation home. So a friend Mick is travelling to Southampton with us and will bring the car home for me.
8.30AM. 2nd Dec. With the cases, Mick, Anne and I set out on a Saturday morning ride to Southampton a doddle of a journey, I had made many times in the past. Perhaps as a warning of things to come my 4x4 started to play up, missing and juddering on every incline, we ignored this and headed for the M40 only to find it blocked and closed. I had left the satellite navigator and maps at home, didn’t need them. “Wrong” Luckily my son was at home when Anne phoned, knew the area and sorted us out. Best part of 5 hours for a normal 3 hour journey, how poor Mick got home, if indeed he did, we still don’t know.
Getting aboard was easy, cases delivered to our cabin and packed away, then off to meet old friends from previous voyages, over a coffee in the restaurant. Last year we had completed a 110 day trip on the same ship so not only were many of the crew familiar to us, but also about 150 of last years passengers like us were at it again
Artemis sailed to the sound of a military band and clinking Champaign glasses as passengers toasted to good luck, little did they know, how we would need it
Our sitting for Dinner is at 6.30 PM, so by the time we sat down, the ship had cleared harbour and was punching her way in the dark, down Southampton water through the Solent, and out into the English Channel. Many passengers had already succumbed to the motion of the ship. Empty chairs in the dinning room reflected this. Shame really the steaks were very good
. Unbeknown to us, we were to be the last vessel out of Southampton, the authorities closing the port behind us and cancelling all the ferries. Storm force winds, that’s about 50 Knots, were lashing the ship and building the seas, with according to our captain, the occasional gust reaching hurricane force
.
Artemis weighing in at 45,000 tons and 230 metres long is capable of 21 knots and a steady average of 18 knots, today however this is reduced by the conditions to a crawl. Steaming into the teeth of the storm, she manages just 350 miles in the first 36 hours.
Clawing her way down the channel, riding the huge 9 Metre swell, that provokes an incessant end to end pitching motion, turning stomachs and liberating dinners, assigning the sufferers to there cabins and beds.
Occasionally she falls off the crest, crashing violently down, and burying her nose deep in the following wave. Her foredeck now drowned in a seething mass of water, sends great plumes of spray down the length of the ship. Then Artimas holds and hesitates for a moment, before lifting herself high and clear to ride the next swell, everything shuddering as the noise reverberates loudly throughout the ship.
Doors are locked with decks off limits to those passengers like us, who are still able to function, many are not. Although Anne with her crutches, is grateful for the hand rails around the ships corridors. Sleep becomes interesting as we slide up and down our beds in concert with the rhythm of the swells, so steep is the pitching. Finally we clear the channel and enter the Bay of Biscay here the water deepens and widens as the bottom falls away, but the seas have travelled thousands of miles to get here and do like to leave there mark, as many an unfortunate sailor has discovered..
Sitting and watching another ship braving these enormous seas, from the safety of a comfortable lounge. I was mindful of a friend, who had once commented, that sailing a small 10 metre yacht, was like caravanning on water, and couldn’t help wondering if his caravans, had ever behaved, as the ship I could see through the window was doing. My admiration for the Helen McCarthy’s of this world grows the more I observe first hand the dangers they face.
Artemis altered course to the west, now the seas were on her beam, she stopped pitching as her stabilisers endeavoured to hold her upright,. The captain who had kept us informed throughout, advised the passengers to go to bed or at least be very careful as the seas were very confused, the swell coming from more than one direction.
That evening we were hit by a big wave that rolled the ship, damaging her stabilisers, crockery, people, the grand piano in the theatre all falling or moving, unassisted and involuntarily across the ship, bars were cleared of optics, booze and glasses. Televisions bounced across cabins, doors slammed and as the motion continued crockery in the kitchen and countless bottles in the wine cellar continued to fall and smash. No one could enter the wine cellar because of the danger and it was left to its own devises while others tasks were undertaken. In those few moments £10,000 pounds worth of booze and crockery was lost.
We returned from the theatre to our cabin to find all shelves and surfaces cleared, broken glasses in the bathroom and our belongings strewn across the beds and floor. Luckily I had left my cameras and the computer on the floor, so no damage. The cabin staff were roused from there beds and within hours all was cleared. The motion continued unabated as the engineers worked to repair the stabilisers, with sudden big lurches catching everyone out and increasing the danger, we decided discretion was the better part of valour and went to bed.
The medical staff however were up working on the casualties until 4 in the morning, on finishing they retired to the mess room, to find the hot buffet laid out for them spread all over the floor, the stewards worked miracles and twenty minutes later had cleared up and provided a new buffet, only to see this too consigned to the floor as the ship lurched again. The Doctors to gave up and went to bed.
We were now into our fourth day and the weather showed no signs of improving, Anne and I were in the restaurant having breakfast sitting at a table for four. Anne on the inside next to the window with another lady sat beside her. I had just returned to the table with two cups of boiling water for coffees, which I placed on the table, immediately they begun to slide as the table tilted, I grabbed them again trying to prevent an accident. We had however been hit by another big sea and as I leaned into the lurch trying to stay upright, still holding the cups on the table, I saw Anne and the woman next to her catapulted, complete with seats across the restaurant, the woman on the outside was nimble enough to get to her feet and hold onto a supporting pillar. Anne however with her arthritis and limited mobility had no chance, and landed on her back across the vacated ladies chair which now lay on its side, whilst at the same time hitting her shoulder on the stone tiled floor, she was in great pain and could not move. Luckily there was an officer present who took charge, organised a doctor and stretcher party and had Anne carried off to the hospital.
The hospital was like a scene from Mash, with injured and bleeding people in every available space, stretchers and walking wounded arriving at regular intervals. Anne was examined given morphine, x-rayed and diagnosed, whist at the same time people were being stitched up alongside her. Luckily she was just severely bruised and her arthritic spine shaken up, they kept her for four hours and then put her to bed in our cabin, now three days later she is almost back to her old self and looking for the sunshine as the seas drop.
Needless to say something had to suffer for all these delays and we arrived 12 hours late at Madeira stayed over night and all the next day whilst they fixed the stabilisers and are now on our way to St Vincent having missed out on a day in Tenerife.
So all in all quite a start to our trip, Artemis is now cruising at 17 knots, we have travelled 700 miles in the last two days and are 70 miles off the most southerly point of the canary islands, the wind is now force 6 and sea have calmed down but are still classified as rough, the sun is attempting to find its way through broken cloud, we have a formal dinner tonight and maybe we can return to normal.
Due to Anne’s injuries we were unable to do much ashore in Madeira apart from purchase some liquid supplies for the cabin but hopefully future postings will be more of the travel kind I had envisaged
posted by Dandan | 6:20 AM | 1 comments
Friday, December 01, 2006
Our Compass
Click on images
Originally uploaded by 6dandan3.
what a week we have had, cases packed, Christmas presents distributed, cards posted, eyes and glasses tested and approved, hair cut, house sorted. Problems with Blogger that were only rectified with the the generous help of Sheila who drove over at the 11th hour . Car checked and loaded and ready for the 170 mile journey to Southampton tomorrow morning.
Kids spoken to, Christmas greetings exchanged, phone calls made, Fridge emptied, had an Indian meal for supper and now at last settled at the keyboard, to post and email as required, before watching an hour or two of the second ashes test from Australia, don't know if we will catch any more on the ship, lets hope so.
The price of the Dollar just about two for one today, makes me wonder how that will affect the African and asian currencies as we travel, could be some bargains to be had when we get to Singapore in the new year.
So thats us, ready for a holiday we hadnt planned or expected, lets just hope it goes well,
posted by Dandan | 1:30 PM | 1 comments
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