Pearl Harbour Revisited

The Aloha Tower; Moss 2009-01-25-0732

Hula dancers welcoming our ship as we arrived at the Aloha Tower; SqC 2009-01-25-1670



Pearl Harbour Revisited



Today is Day Seven of our voyage. The alarm went off a little after six am so that we could watch the Rotterdam come into Honolulu. We went out on our verandah and, sure enough, there were the lights of Oahu shining on the horizon. It was too dark to get a good picture of the lights at sea because of the motion of the ship, but the sun came up early enough to permit a picture of sorts just as our ship was slowing down for the pilot. We came into Honolulu Harbour as the sun came up, and eased toward Honolulu’s famous landmark, the Aloha Tower. Built in 1926, the tower welcomed travelers sailing to Oahu for many years. And, just like in the days of old when the Matson liners landed, there were musicians and hula dancers on the dock at the foot of the tower singing and dancing a welcome to our ship. It was a magical moment recalling the “Grand Manner” days of yesteryear. Squeekie and I both LOVED it!

We watched the landing from the Lido Deck aft, and then went forward to the Queen’s Lounge, where we convened to await being called for our excursion. Today in Honolulu was the first excursion we contracted for on our cruise. Entitled the “Pearl Harbour VIP Military Base Experience,” the tour was early off the ship and was conducted by a very humorous and knowledgeable guide named Brandon.

First we went to the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbour. Squeekie and I have been there before several times, but it is always interesting to return. We toured the museum in the memorial building operated by the National Park Service; the new things they have obtained and put on display since our last visit in 2003 were very interesting. I took a quick spin through the museum bookstore but kept my purchases down to two books, two documentary movies, and the new teacher’s package. Then we went into the theatre to see the movie, before boarding the launch that took us out to the Memorial.

How emotional it was to enter the Memorial! I always feel a lump in my throat as I walk over to the edge railing and look down at the rusting remains of that once mighty ship. The turret barbette which pushes above the water is a silent reminder of what this ship was designed to do, and how that form of naval warfare (shooting matches between the big guns of rival battleships) essentially died on December 7, 1941, along with over 1100 men. On the back wall of the memorial we saw the name of “E. Winter, Machinist.” Even though he died aboard the Arizona six years before I was born, I feel like I knew him. Ed Winter had worked for Edison as a machinist, I think at Big Creek, before his return to naval duty in 1940. When I operated the Edison museum, one of our prized displays was the Christmas card he had sent from Hawaii to his Edison friends; the postmark on the card’s envelope was December fourth, 1941. . . .

Squeekie also got a very good picture of the USS Missouri which is anchored just about 100 yards south of where the Arizona lies; together these ships offer a fitting memorial to the beginning and ending of the Pacific War.

After returning to the far shore we boarded our tour bus for the drive up island to Wheeler Field and Schofield Barracks. At Wheeler Field we saw the replica P-40 fighter plane made for the “Tora, Tora, Tora” movie, along with some retired Army helicopters used in the Pacific theatre since World War Two.

At Schofield Barracks we saw some of the buildings remaining from the December Seventh attack, and then stopped for lunch at the Officers’ Club. After lunch we stopped at the recently completed memorial for the fallen soldiers of the 25th Infantry “Tropic Lightning” Division. It is a moving grouping of full-sized bronze statues of soldiers in uniforms from all the wars in which the division has fought: World War Two, Korea, Vietnam, and Iraq. What made this moment so moving was when our tour group—all 22 of us—was done at the memorial and were about to board the bus, a family group came up to the Memorial and a recently widowed young woman placed a lei and dogtags on the monument, and then cried, while her mother tried to comfort her and while her father took a few pictures. It reminded all of us—if any needed reminding—that American troops are still making the ultimate sacrifice as part of our nation’s policies in the world at large.

Then we drove over to Fort Shafter where we saw the famous and historic “Coconut Palm Circle,” where officers’ homes and official buildings dating back to 1907 surround a grassy parade ground lined with coconut palms. Among the historic buildings we saw (but we were not permitted to photograph all of them, just some) were “Quarters 5,” the home of General Short on December Seventh, a lovely gazebo that has been featured in two movies about the Pearl Harbour attack, the famous “Aloha Gun,” an ancient muzzle loading cannon dating from the days of the Hawaiian monarchy that once was used to welcome or warn ships approaching Honolulu, and building T-100, the renowned “Pineapple Pentagon,” built in 1944 and still to this day the headquarters of the United States Army in the Pacific.

The tour then took us up to the Punchbowl National Memorial where Squeekie took good pictures of the last resting places of Ernie Pyle, the famous and very popular World War Two correspondent who was killed in the Okinawa campaign in May 1945, and Ellison Onizuka, the Hawaiian astronaut killed in the Challenger accident in 1986. A drive through the heart of downtown Honolulu, past several historic buildings, brought us to the “Home of the Brave” museum honouring those who fought and died in World War Two.

Following this day-long injection of American military history, we returned to Pier Eleven beside the Aloha Tower. Squeekie took pictures of the Rotterdam at anchor and of the Aloha Tower, then we shopped in some of the stores around the tower; the area is known as “Boat Days Bazaar,” a recollection of the earlier times when all tourist traffic to Hawaii came by ocean liner. In one store I found a bracelet of honus (sea turtles) made of silver and blue opals, which I bought for Squeekie as an early birthday present.

We reboarded the Rotterdam and settled in on the aft Lido deck to await our departure, reading and watching the activity in the harbour. It cooled off as the sun set so we decided to change locations. Squeekie had found that Deck Six has a forward-facing view deck, so we went up there and watched the departure activities. Finally, a bit after eight pm, the ship’s mighty bass whistle blew, the mooring lines were cast off, and he Rotterdam began backing away from Pier Eleven. The Rotterdam, big though she is, crept on “cat feet” out of the harbour at Honolulu to resume her circumnavigation journey. With some emotion we realized that we were leaving Hawaii and American soil. We were just one twelfth of the way on our around the world cruise and now face nine days at sea as we head into the South Pacific.

A Day on the Big Island

Sunrise as we approach Hilo; Moss 2009-01-24-0560.

Squeek and Moss enjoying a Keaha at the Hau Tree bar on the beach; Moss-2009-01-24-0651


A Day on the Big Island of Hawaii

Today is Day Six of our voyage. This morning the alarm went off at 6 o’clock so that we could get up in time to watch the Rotterdam come into the port of Hilo on the “Big Island” of Hawaii. We have been to Hilo several times in our married life, but never before have we arrived by sea. It was cool and squalls dotted the Pacific as we drew close. As the sun rose in the east behind us, the lights of Hilo were glinting to the west in front of us. It was amazing to watch as the big ship was carefully maneuvered around the breakwater and through the channel that led to the pier in Hilo Harbour where she would be moored.

After a bite of breakfast Squeekie and I prepared for our day on the Big Island. No cruise excursion here today—we are going out on our own. We debarked from the ship, walked through the old pier warehouse, seeing evidence all around us of earlier times when Hilo was an important port where pineapple and raw sugar were shipped over to the continental United States. . . . We caught a shuttle which took us over to Hilo Airport, where we rented a car for the day. It came as a surprise when we saw that the “medium” car Squeek had reserved turned out to be a massive Ford Explorer. Wow!

We drove up Highway 19 north out of Hilo headed for the far side of the island. Along the way we were surprised and pleased to see that this side of the island appears to have recovered from the death of the sugar industry, and that communities once created to house labourers or sugar mills are now catering to new residents; there was no obvious evidence of economic discomfort or recession here. We passed through Honokaa, passed Tex’s Barbeque, where we had eaten in the past, and came into Waimea-Kamuela, once the home of the famous Parker Ranch. This community, which we remember as a small village, has grown in size, accumulating a population clearly without ties to the Parker Ranch and its “paniolos” (Hawaiian cowboys). After a quick stop at the Post Office, we drove down the hill to the coast and our goal for the day, the beloved Mauna Kea Hotel.

Squeekie and I have stayed at the Mauna Kea many times since our first visit in 1985. We LOVE the place, and not just because of its fine beach. The hotel was badly damaged in the earthquake of 2006, and had closed for repairs, just reopening recently in mid-December. As we drove up to the hotel’s entrance we were VERY pleased to see that the hotel’s restoration had not brought major changes to the building we remembered. Indeed, there were employees we remembered from our last stay there in 2005. It very much felt like a homecoming! We were able to view one of the renovated (and enlarged) rooms in the main building—they had taken three of the old rooms and rebuilt them as two new rooms.

After exploring the renovations we walked down to the beach—still as marvelous as we remember—and stopped at the Hau Tree Bar to enjoy a Keaha. YUM!! Then we had lunch and renewed acquaintance with Carolyn, who recalled us from earlier visits.

Overall, we found the restored Mauna Kea to have had some useful renovations while at the same time preserving the appearance and feel of the earlier hotel. To us the hotel still felt (and looked) like a cruise ship.

We departed the hotel rather reluctantly and drove back up to Waimea for some quick shopping: a new Reyn Hawaiian shirt for Moss, and Hawaiian Springs water for Squeekie. A spin through Honokaa showed us that Ka’amaina Woods is still in business (although closed this late on a Saturday afternoon). We drove back to Hilo, stopping for a picture of the Rotterdam at her dock, and turned in our car at the airport. Altogether, it was a great day on the Big Island.

We were not hungry tonight, so we poured ourselves glasses of sherry and watched from our verandah as the mighty Rotterdam quietly crept out of Hilo “on cat’s paws” not long after sunset. Tomorrow we will be in Honolulu!

A Day on the Big

Sunrise as we approach Hilo; Moss 2009-01-24-0560.

Squeek and Moss enjoying a Keaha at the Hau Tree bar on the beach; Moss-2009-01-24-0651


A Day on the Big Island of Hawaii

Today is Day Six of our voyage. This morning the alarm went off at 6 o’clock so that we could get up in time to watch the Rotterdam come into the port of Hilo on the “Big Island” of Hawaii. We have been to Hilo several times in our married life, but never before have we arrived by sea. It was cool and squalls dotted the Pacific as we drew close. As the sun rose in the east behind us, the lights of Hilo were glinting to the west in front of us. It was amazing to watch as the big ship was carefully maneuvered around the breakwater and through the channel that led to the pier in Hilo Harbour where she would be moored.

After a bite of breakfast Squeekie and I prepared for our day on the Big Island. No cruise excursion here today—we are going out on our own. We debarked from the ship, walked through the old pier warehouse, seeing evidence all around us of earlier times when Hilo was an important port where pineapple and raw sugar were shipped over to the continental United States. . . . We caught a shuttle which took us over to Hilo Airport, where we rented a car for the day. It came as a surprise when we saw that the “medium” car Squeek had reserved turned out to be a massive Ford Explorer. Wow!

We drove up Highway 19 north out of Hilo headed for the far side of the island. Along the way we were surprised and pleased to see that this side of the island appears to have recovered from the death of the sugar industry, and that communities once created to house labourers or sugar mills are now catering to new residents; there was no obvious evidence of economic discomfort or recession here. We passed through Honokaa, passed Tex’s Barbeque, where we had eaten in the past, and came into Waimea-Kamuela, once the home of the famous Parker Ranch. This community, which we remember as a small village, has grown in size, accumulating a population clearly without ties to the Parker Ranch and its “paniolos” (Hawaiian cowboys). After a quick stop at the Post Office, we drove down the hill to the coast and our goal for the day, the beloved Mauna Kea Hotel.

Squeekie and I have stayed at the Mauna Kea many times since our first visit in 1985. We LOVE the place, and not just because of its fine beach. The hotel was badly damaged in the earthquake of 2006, and had closed for repairs, just reopening recently in mid-December. As we drove up to the hotel’s entrance we were VERY pleased to see that the hotel’s restoration had not brought major changes to the building we remembered. Indeed, there were employees we remembered from our last stay there in 2005. It very much felt like a homecoming! We were able to view one of the renovated (and enlarged) rooms in the main building—they had taken three of the old rooms and rebuilt them as two new rooms.

After exploring the renovations we walked down to the beach—still as marvelous as we remember—and stopped at the Hau Tree Bar to enjoy a Keaha. YUM!! Then we had lunch and renewed acquaintance with Carolyn, who recalled us from earlier visits.

Overall, we found the restored Mauna Kea to have had some useful renovations while at the same time preserving the appearance and feel of the earlier hotel. To us the hotel still felt (and looked) like a cruise ship.

We departed the hotel rather reluctantly and drove back up to Waimea for some quick shopping: a new Reyn Hawaiian shirt for Moss, and Hawaiian Springs water for Squeekie. A spin through Honokaa showed us that Ka’amaina Woods is still in business (although closed this late on a Saturday afternoon). We drove back to Hilo, stopping for a picture of the Rotterdam at her dock, and turned in our car at the airport. Altogether, it was a great day on the Big Island.

We were not hungry tonight, so we poured ourselves glasses of sherry and watched from our verandah as the mighty Rotterdam quietly crept out of Hilo “on cat’s paws” not long after sunset. Tomorrow we will be in Honolulu!

The Grand Manner

Captain van der Waard (centre, looking at the camera) introduces his officers and staff at the Captain’s Reception; Moss 2009-01-22-0553


The Grand Manner

It is Day Four of our voyage, and I am in a reflective mood today. Tonight is the Captain’s Reception, complete with a champagne toast and formal wear in the dining room. Oh, yes, we have enjoyed these events before on our other cruises, but right now the trip out to Hawaii from the West Coast is the first leg of our circumnavigation voyage, and I got to thinking, how do the events on the Rotterdam in 2009 compare with the “Grand Manner” of earlier times?

On our last trip to Hawaii back in 2005 I had purchased a book entitled To Honolulu in Five Days, and at the last minute I packed this book to bring on our world cruise. It is a history of the old Matson liners which for over a half century sustained the tourist traffic to the Hawaiian Islands. I know that my maternal grandparents (Mr. & Mrs. William G. King, Jr.) made that trip aboard Matson’s Lurline in the mid-1930s, and that they had LOVED it. I got to thinking how Holland-America’s treatment of its passengers might compare with Matson’s passenger services in the grand days of the ocean liners in the 1920s, 1930s, and 1950s.

First off, there is the reception and departure from the west coast. If you have already read my blog comments for Day One, you know that I was very unhappy with how the embarking passengers were treated at the Port of Los Angeles’ World Cruise Center. I do not blame Holland-America for this; it is a function of the paranoia which has enveloped our society since 9/11. Once on board the Rotterdam and away from the gruff renta-cops, we were made to feel very welcome by the Holland-America staff. Even so, it is not possible to have the types of “Bon Voyage” parties that were customary in earlier times, because you cannot bring non-traveling party guests aboard the ship. The Matson book told how departure parties were a major activity on sailing day, and that advertisements were even spread through the community encouraging non-travelers—and strangers—to come down to the dock to participate in the party. The book even reproduced an advertisement from Holiday Magazine (remember that?) which said, “Sailing Day: You’re off into the blue Pacific with confetti in your hair.” This was a reference to the paper streamers (once called “serpentines”) which once were thrown at and by travelers as the liners departed. No longer is this possible due to environmental concerns. Yes, the Rotterdam staff did a nice job of throwing a “sailaway” party on the aft Lido deck as we sailed out of San Pedro, and yes, there was the farewell comment loudspeakered out to us as we passed by the Ports O’Call restaurant in San Pedro, but still, it was not the same as the bon voyage parties of old. So this one goes to earlier times—not the fault of Holland-America, rather a reflection of the paranoid society in which we live today.

Next I compare the types of accommodations between then and now. I this regard, I think that the modern cabins available aboard this ship—the Rotterdam—are in every way superior to what existed on the grand liners of earlier times. Oh, to be sure, the Lurline had deluxe suites, but aboard the Rotterdam every cabin is deluxe, even the interior ones down on deck one. All have their own bathrooms, none are shared—a big difference from the liners of yore. Every passenger cabin aboard the Rotterdam offers luxury and ample space for two or three persons, and contains sleeping, dressing, and sitting space. Our cabin on Deck 6, for example, has a king size bed, a dressing table, a couch, a table and chair for sitting and entertaining, enough wardrobe space to house all of our clothing needed for a 114-day world cruise, and a private verandah outside where we can lounge in comfort and watch the sea pass by. I won’t even go into the satellite system which allows passengers to watch television channels from around the world, a technology that was unimagined in the 1930s. So, on the issue of staterooms, the nod goes to Holland-America and its modern ships.


The public rooms aboard the Rotterdam are also superior to what was found on the old liners. There are numerous bars where all types of drinks—alcoholic or not—can be served up; and coffee bars as well, where the wide range of coffee drinks enjoyed by modern persons are available. The Rotterdam does not have just a writing room, it has a library with over 10,000 books, writing tables, and internet connections to the outside world thanks to satellite technology. I can type up my blog notes for the day, then go on line and send it to my blog server even though I am in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, hundreds—if not thousands—of miles from any major land mass. Entertainment has a venue, the Queen’s Lounge; if floor shows are not ones’ joy, then there is a cinema where current movies are shown several times a day and evening. There is a casino (something the old Lurline had to get rid of in 1952 thanks to the depredations of the Kefauver Crime Commission report which virtually eliminated casino gambling in the United States); and several places to dance—if that is your interest.

The book to which I referred earlier, To Honolulu in Five Days, tells of “the Grand Manner of Matson,” asserting that “service aboard the Lurline . . . was prompt, courteous, and gracious.” The same may be said—without qualification—of the service aboard the Rotterdam. We dine like royalty, and are pampered and indulged “twenty four seven.” Perhaps it may fairly be said that the Matson Company in the 1930s (for the service to Hawaii and the South Pacific), as well as the Holland-America of that same era (for service across the North Atlantic) had already perfected the organization and effort

needed to provide good service to passengers who desired luxury, but it also must be said that the one shipping company that still sustains the “Grand Manner” tradition on the high seas in the twenty-first century is Holland-America! Oh, yes, there are other cruise companies who have fine vessels, but on Holland-America ships you still encounter the elegance and excellence that recall the social standards of yesteryear. For example, the officers of the ship wearing formal dress to meet the passengers one night early in the voyage.

Later in the day-- Tonight is the “Captain’s Reception,” when the Master of the vessel, Captain Olav van der Waard, would meet all passengers who chose to stand in a receiving line. After the passengers had gone through the line they were seated in the Queen’s Lounge and given champagne and hors d’oveurs. Then Captain Olav (as we call him) introduced the senior officers of the vessel and offered a toast to a successful voyage. It was good to see the Captain at his finest, resplendent in his formal uniform, offering pride, intensity, and a leavening of humor.

After this event Squeekie and I stopped to have our picture taken. She was beautiful in her midnight blue gown, and I had on my tuxedo with the silver vest. As we were waiting our turn with the photographer, Captain Olav himself came walking by. He joined us in a picture and then asked us to join him and the Chief Officer Robert Jan Kan for dinner. We were VERY honoured! We enjoyed a very pleasant dinner in the Pinnacle with the Captain, catching up on previous cruises, friends, and family. What a wonderful experience!

Blog 005-At sea headed to Hawaii

At sea headed to Hawaii

Day Two- At Sea

Two thirds of the Earth is covered with water, and I think we are well on our way to seeing as much of that water as possible. When the Rotterdam left San Pedro last evening, Captain van der Waard headed in a southwesterly direction towards the Hawaiian Islands. The seas had a gentle swell out of the west, but the ship did not rock or twist too badly that first night.

By midday we were some 360 miles southwest of San Pedro, already farther away from land (at sea level) than we had ever been before. We spent most of the day unpacking and putting things away, and exploring the Rotterdam. All of the Holland-America ships we have been on before (remember that we didn’t get to board the Prinsendam in 2007 because of my hospital stay in Rome) have been the big ships in their fleet, so the Rotterdam feels a bit different. The day was somewhat overcast as can be seen in the only picture I took on this day. In his noontime message, Captain van der Waard told us that the Rotterdam was headed toward and through a low pressure front; that was apparent from the grey sky. It also got a bit rockier as the day went on.

The daily itinerary sheet contained a note from the navigator telling that the ship was headed southwest in a rhumbline route (a straight line) from San Pedro to Hilo. This picture aft from the Lido Deck shows how straight was the line; Moss 2009-01-20-0522


By the end of the day Squeekie and I were both pretty tired as the excitement of leaving on our voyage of discovery had worn out. We have a table at the late seating (8pm) in the La Fontaine Dining Room, and have been fortunate to be given a wonderful table—number 22, right beside a window that gives us a panorama of the outside. After dinner I went to the Queen’s Lounge to listen to the comedian Rick Starr; Squeekie caught up with me after a detour into the Signature Shop to purchase a safari jacket, but she slept through Starr’s entire performance. So off to bed we went.

Oscar seating Squeekie at Table 22 in the La Fontaine Dining Room; Moss 2009-01-21-0529


Day Three- At Sea

The Pacific Ocean was not very pacific (peaceful) over night. The Rotterdam nosed up and down and rocked sideways as it was buffeted by swell coming from a weather front through which we had to pass. Over night the panelwork in our cabin (and I’m sure in other cabins as well) creaked and groaned occasionally as the ship twisted in contact with wind and wave. Still, thanks to the patch, I have not been queasy.

Sunrise on our second morning at sea; Moss 2009-01-21-0524

I awoke around 7:30 this morning to a view out over our verandah of a magnificent sunrise. Squeekie slept until 9am. I guess the decompression which makes vacations so wonderful is at last happening. However, decompression notwithstanding, Squeekie did some Edison work today. I find it amazing that modern technology allows us to remain in contact with any place on the globe no matter how far away despite the fact that we are nearly 1,000 miles from the nearest land.

Squeekie hard at her Edison work up in the Crows Nest; Moss 2009-01-23-0559

Moss at his laptop concentrating on the blog; Moss 2009-01-22-0548

Yesterday, as I was typing blog text on my computer on Deck Five, a lady came by and asked if I would be interested in joining her team for the trivia contest just about to begin. So off I went, computer and all. Our team came in third on this day. Today the team reconvened but we did much less well, getting correct just eight out of fifteen questions. I did not know that 8 furlongs comprise one mile, nor that “The Cuckoo Song” was the theme song for Laurel and Hardy. Oh, well.

Squeekie took this picture of “The Outcasts” trivial pursuit group hard at work; Squeek 2009-01-23-1610

After the trivia contest, Squeekie and I went up to the Lido to have a salad for lunch. As we were eating, Captain van der Waard walked by; when he saw we were there he came over to say hello—and to give Squeek a big European kiss. She grinned like a schoolgirl, and he seemed very pleased to see us, too.

Although it is not as cloudy today as it was yesterday, the sea is a bit rougher and the air temperature is barely above 60 degrees Fahrenheit. We are slowly getting into the shipboard routines that will define our existence for the next few months. We crashed early tonight. . . .

Day Four- At Sea

I want to insert a notice to those of you who have taken the time to read my blog, such as it is so far. I will include pictures in the blog when I learn how to do it. I had a nice Word document file all set up, describing the day we left and including over a dozen pictures, but the file was way too large for the internet access bandwidth available here on the Rotterdam. So, until I learn how to make these pictures into smaller files, you will just have to wait and be patient. Squeekie and I have already taken nearly 100 pictures, and we have not yet reached our first port of call. So there are images, just not yet in a condition to send to you all.

Anyway, I want all of you to know that Lynn and I are really enjoying our first leg at sea, even though I have had some difficulty getting my sea legs—I think the medicines I take for my blood pressure and cholesterol make me a bit dizzier than I would like to be. Please be patient dear friends and family, pictures will follow in due time.

The Grand Manner

It is Day Four of our voyage, and I am in a reflective mood today. Tonight is the Captain’s Reception, complete with a champagne toast and formal wear in the dining room. Oh, yes, we have enjoyed these events before on our other cruises, but right now the trip out to Hawaii from the West Coast is the first leg of our circumnavigation voyage, and I got to thinking, how do the events on the Rotterdam in 2009 compare with the “Grand Manner” of earlier times?

On our last trip to Hawaii back in 2005 I had purchased a book entitled To Honolulu in Five Days, and at the last minute I packed this book to bring on our world cruise. It is a history of the old Matson liners which for over a half century sustained the tourist traffic to the Hawaiian Islands. I know that my maternal grandparents (Mr. & Mrs. William G. King, Jr.) made that trip aboard Matson’s Lurline in the mid-1930s, and that they had LOVED it. I got to thinking how Holland-America’s treatment of its passengers might compare with Matson’s passenger services in the grand days of the ocean liners in the 1920s, 1930s, and 1950s.

First off, there is the reception and departure from the west coast. If you have already read my blog comments for Day One, you know that I was very unhappy with how the embarking passengers were treated at the Port of Los Angeles’ World Cruise Center. I do not blame Holland-America for this; it is a function of the paranoia which has enveloped our society since 9/11. Once on board the Rotterdam and away from the gruff renta-cops, we were made to feel very welcome by the Holland-America staff. Even so, it is not possible to have the types of “Bon Voyage” parties that were customary in earlier times, because you cannot bring non-traveling party guests aboard the ship. The Matson book told how departure parties were a major activity on sailing day, and that advertisements were even spread through the community encouraging non-travelers—and strangers—to come down to the dock to participate in the party. The book even reproduced an advertisement from Holiday Magazine (remember that?) which said, “Sailing Day: You’re off into the blue Pacific with confetti in your hair.” This was a reference to the paper streamers (once called “serpentines”) which once were thrown at and by travelers as the liners departed. No longer is this possible due to environmental concerns. Yes, the Rotterdam staff did a nice job of throwing a “sailaway” party on the aft Lido deck as we sailed out of San Pedro, and yes, there was the farewell comment loudspeakered out to us as we passed by the Ports O’Call restaurant in San Pedro, but still, it was not the same as the bon voyage parties of old. So this one goes to earlier times—not the fault of Holland-America, rather a reflection of the paranoid society in which we live today.

Next I compare the types of accommodations between then and now. I this regard, I think that the modern cabins available aboard this ship—the Rotterdam—are in every way superior to what existed on the grand liners of earlier times. Oh, to be sure, the Lurline had deluxe suites, but aboard the Rotterdam every cabin is deluxe, even the interior ones down on deck one. All have their own bathrooms, none are shared—a big difference from the liners of yore. Every passenger cabin aboard the Rotterdam offers luxury and ample space for two or three persons, and contains sleeping, dressing, and sitting space. Our cabin on Deck 6, for example, has a king size bed, a dressing table, a couch, a table and chair for sitting and entertaining, enough wardrobe space to house all of our clothing needed for a 114-day world cruise, and a private verandah outside where we can lounge in comfort and watch the sea pass by. I won’t even go into the satellite system which allows passengers to watch television channels from around the world, a technology that was unimagined in the 1930s. So, on the issue of staterooms, the nod goes to Holland-America and its modern ships.

Squeekie sits on our private verandah doing a bit of reading of her Edison work and watching the Pacific roll by. What an office! Moss 2009-01-21-0525

Holland-America’s Rotterdam VI, the ship on which we are traveling; image from Holland-America website.


The public rooms aboard the Rotterdam are also superior to what was found on the old liners. There are numerous bars where all types of drinks—alcoholic or not—can be served up; and coffee bars as well, where the wide range of coffee drinks enjoyed by modern persons are available. The Rotterdam does not have just a writing room, it has a library with over 10,000 books, writing tables, and internet connections to the outside world thanks to satellite technology. I can type up my blog notes for the day, then go on line and send it to my blog server even though I am in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, hundreds—if not thousands—of miles from any major land mass. Entertainment has a venue, the Queen’s Lounge; if floor shows are not ones’ joy, then there is a cinema where current movies are shown several times a day and evening. There is a casino (something the old Lurline had to get rid of in 1952 thanks to the depredations of the Kefauver Crime Commission report which virtually eliminated casino gambling in the United States); and several places to dance—if that is your interest.

The book to which I referred earlier, To Honolulu in Five Days, tells of “the Grand Manner of Matson,” asserting that “service aboard the Lurline . . . was prompt, courteous, and gracious.” The same may be said—without qualification—of the service aboard the Rotterdam. We dine like royalty, and are pampered and indulged “twenty four seven.” Perhaps it may fairly be said that the Matson Company in the 1930s (for the service to Hawaii and the South Pacific), as well as the Holland-America of that same era (for service across the North Atlantic) had already perfected the organization and effort

Poster for Holland-America’s North Atlantic service in the 1930s; image from Holland-America website.

needed to provide good service to passengers who desired luxury, but it also must be said that the one shipping company that still sustains the “Grand Manner” tradition on the high seas in the twenty-first century is Holland-America! Oh, yes, there are other cruise companies who have fine vessels, but on Holland-America ships you still encounter the elegance and excellence that recall the social standards of yesteryear. For example, the officers of the ship wearing formal dress to meet the passengers one night early in the voyage.

Later in the day-- Tonight is the “Captain’s Reception,” when the Master of the vessel, Captain Olav van der Waard, would meet all passengers who chose to stand in a receiving line. After the passengers had gone through the line they were seated in the Queen’s Lounge and given champagne and hors d’oveurs. Then Captain Olav (as we call him) introduced the senior officers of the vessel and offered a toast to a successful voyage. It was good to see the Captain at his finest, resplendent in his formal uniform, offering pride, intensity, and a leavening of humor.

Captain van der Waard (centre, looking at the camera) introduces his officers and staff at the Captain’s Reception; Moss 2009-01-22-0553

After this event Squeekie and I stopped to have our picture taken. She was beautiful in her midnight blue gown, and I had on my tuxedo with the silver vest. As we were waiting our turn with the photographer, Captain Olav himself came walking by. He joined us in a picture and then asked us to join him and the Chief Officer Robert Jan Kan for dinner. We were VERY honoured! We enjoyed a very pleasant dinner in the Pinnacle with the Captain, catching up on previous cruises, friends, and family. What a wonderful experience!

Pic to come

At sea headed to Hawaii

Day Two- At Sea

Two thirds of the Earth is covered with water, and I think we are well on our way to seeing as much of that water as possible. When the Rotterdam left San Pedro last evening, Captain van der Waard headed in a southwesterly direction towards the Hawaiian Islands. The seas had a gentle swell out of the west, but the ship did not rock or twist too badly that first night.

By midday we were some 360 miles southwest of San Pedro, already farther away from land (at sea level) than we had ever been before. We spent most of the day unpacking and putting things away, and exploring the Rotterdam. All of the Holland-America ships we have been on before (remember that we didn’t get to board the Prinsendam in 2007 because of my hospital stay in Rome) have been the big ships in their fleet, so the Rotterdam feels a bit different. The day was somewhat overcast as can be seen in the only picture I took on this day. In his noontime message, Captain van der Waard told us that the Rotterdam was headed toward and through a low pressure front; that was apparent from the grey sky. It also got a bit rockier as the day went on.

The daily itinerary sheet contained a note from the navigator telling that the ship was headed southwest in a rhumbline route (a straight line) from San Pedro to Hilo. This picture aft from the Lido Deck shows how straight was the line; Moss 2009-01-20-0522


By the end of the day Squeekie and I were both pretty tired as the excitement of leaving on our voyage of discovery had worn out. We have a table at the late seating (8pm) in the La Fontaine Dining Room, and have been fortunate to be given a wonderful table—number 22, right beside a window that gives us a panorama of the outside. After dinner I went to the Queen’s Lounge to listen to the comedian Rick Starr; Squeekie caught up with me after a detour into the Signature Shop to purchase a safari jacket, but she slept through Starr’s entire performance. So off to bed we went.

Oscar seating Squeekie at Table 22 in the La Fontaine Dining Room; Moss 2009-01-21-0529


Day Three- At Sea

The Pacific Ocean was not very pacific (peaceful) over night. The Rotterdam nosed up and down and rocked sideways as it was buffeted by swell coming from a weather front through which we had to pass. Over night the panelwork in our cabin (and I’m sure in other cabins as well) creaked and groaned occasionally as the ship twisted in contact with wind and wave. Still, thanks to the patch, I have not been queasy.

Sunrise on our second morning at sea; Moss 2009-01-21-0524

I awoke around 7:30 this morning to a view out over our verandah of a magnificent sunrise. Squeekie slept until 9am. I guess the decompression which makes vacations so wonderful is at last happening. However, decompression notwithstanding, Squeekie did some Edison work today. I find it amazing that modern technology allows us to remain in contact with any place on the globe no matter how far away despite the fact that we are nearly 1,000 miles from the nearest land.

Squeekie hard at her Edison work up in the Crows Nest; Moss 2009-01-23-0559

Moss at his laptop concentrating on the blog; Moss 2009-01-22-0548

Yesterday, as I was typing blog text on my computer on Deck Five, a lady came by and asked if I would be interested in joining her team for the trivia contest just about to begin. So off I went, computer and all. Our team came in third on this day. Today the team reconvened but we did much less well, getting correct just eight out of fifteen questions. I did not know that 8 furlongs comprise one mile, nor that “The Cuckoo Song” was the theme song for Laurel and Hardy. Oh, well.

Squeekie took this picture of “The Outcasts” trivial pursuit group hard at work; Squeek 2009-01-23-1610

After the trivia contest, Squeekie and I went up to the Lido to have a salad for lunch. As we were eating, Captain van der Waard walked by; when he saw we were there he came over to say hello—and to give Squeek a big European kiss. She grinned like a schoolgirl, and he seemed very pleased to see us, too.

Although it is not as cloudy today as it was yesterday, the sea is a bit rougher and the air temperature is barely above 60 degrees Fahrenheit. We are slowly getting into the shipboard routines that will define our existence for the next few months. We crashed early tonight. . . .

Day Four- At Sea

I want to insert a notice to those of you who have taken the time to read my blog, such as it is so far. I will include pictures in the blog when I learn how to do it. I had a nice Word document file all set up, describing the day we left and including over a dozen pictures, but the file was way too large for the internet access bandwidth available here on the Rotterdam. So, until I learn how to make these pictures into smaller files, you will just have to wait and be patient. Squeekie and I have already taken nearly 100 pictures, and we have not yet reached our first port of call. So there are images, just not yet in a condition to send to you all.
Anyway, I want all of you to know that Lynn and I are really enjoying our first leg at sea, even though I have had some difficulty getting my sea legs—I think the medicines I take for my blood pressure and cholesterol make me a bit dizzier than I would like to be. Please be patient dear friends and family, pictures will follow in

Today We Leave


At last it’s here! Today we leave on our trip around the world!

The alarm went off at 4:40 this morning, typical for a Monday morning at our house, but there was no grumpy “Shut off that @#$^&% radio and let me get a few more minutes of sleep.” Oh, no, we were too excited for that! In fact, Squeekie said that she hadn’t slept well all night because she was so excited to be leaving today. Me? Well, thanks to the new CPAP machine I was fitted with last Thursday, I slept deeply all night, thank you!

Last-minute packing in our bedroom on Saturday evening; Moss-2009-01-17-0439.


The weekend just finished was a whirlwind of activity, chores and errands, as we struggled to get through Squeekie’s “To Do List” without running out of time. She was especially energetic, dashing about doing things, but occasionally she would lose track of an item and grump around wondering where she had left it. Gone were those dreamy-eyed moments when she would become lost in thought envisioning what was about to happen. Instead she was stressed as she worried about getting done all that she perceived as necessary to be done. We were especially sad to have to miss our nephew Bryan McKenzie’s concert on Sunday afternoon, but that couldn’t be helped as there was so much left to do. On Saturday evening at 5:30, as the sun was setting, Squeekie and I turned to look at each other, grinned, and said, “48 hours!” This was a reference to the fact that our ship, the Rotterdam, would depart from San Pedro on Monday right at the sunset hour. On Sunday at sunset, again we looked at each other and said, “24 hours!” Still, the many things to do occupied our time, although we took a short break around eight o’clock to say good-bye to my mother and my sister and brother-in-law, who stopped by after Bryan’s concert. I also called Leslee in Seattle and had a nice chat with her, while Squeekie called her mom in Denver. By 11:30 pm on Sunday evening all that was going to be done in preparation for our trip had been accomplished.

So, when the radio alarm went off on Monday morning and the KNX news commentators began blaring the troubles of the world into our ears, I got up, went into the shower (the last one in a roomy showerbath for the next four months), and then dressed up for our travel day. Lynn is wearing a lovely outfit, white turtle-neck sweater with a matching Ann Taylor scarf, brown pants, and a very nice long red coat; I am wearing my “Menlo School” outfit: grey slacks, blue blazer, and a white-with-blue-stripes Geoffrey Beane shirt purchased new for the occasion, and a maroon tie to capture the professional look.

Squeekie puts on her coat—we are ready to go! Moss-2009-01-19-0444.


Squeekie had two pieces of luggage to carry on to the ship this afternoon, her new red Delsey 22-inch rollabout (in which I knew Suzie was hiding), and the matching small carry-on. I had four pieces, fortunately mostly small: my new blue Delsey 22-inch rollabout (in which I knew Roy was hiding), the small black case for my CPAP machine, the smaller blue Delsey carry-on filled with computer and photo gear (I must maintain this blog, you know), and a small blue carry-on bag filled with my four-months supply of pharmaceuticals. We humped all of these items downstairs, and boy, were we glad that the major luggage had been picked up by Fed Ex almost two weeks ago! A brief moment was spent saying “good-bye” to the house and to the bears who were staying behind to guard it. . . .

Locking the front door—we’re on our way; Moss-2009-01-19-0445.


By ten minutes before six o’clock in the morning all the bags had been rolled out to the front sidewalk, Squeekie had her Edison papers piled up ready to take to work, the last bag of trash had been collected and dumped, the refrigerator had been emptied, the water heater had been turned to “vacation,” the space heater had been turned off, all the windows and doors had been checked and locked, and WE WERE READY TO GO!!! Oh, were we excited. I took a picture of Lynn locking the front door, and then we waited just a few minutes for Lynn’s carpool partner, Tony Blakemore, to drive over and pick us up. He had kindly offered to drive us down to the San Pedro cruise ship terminal later today, but first Squeekie had to put in five hours at work..

Tony helps to load our luggage—it’s six am, and we are leaving; Moss-2009-01-19-0448.



Not the best picture, but the sunrise was beautiful; Moss-2009-01-19-0449.


As we were driving up to Edison in Rosemead, the sun was rising in the east. It was a particularly beautiful sunrise, with nice cloud formations and lots of rich colour. I said to Lynn, “When this sun goes down tonight we will be sailing down the channel on our ship!” Oh, were we sooooo ready! But first we had to endure at least five hours of work at Edison—at least Lynn did. I settled in to an empty office near Squeek’s, unpacked my laptop and started in on this blog piece, but Squeekie had lots of last-minute work items to deal with. You know how it is: people come by and say, “I just heard that you’re going on vacation for the next four months, and I need to have you look at this before you go.” UGH!!

Two hours later. . . . The morning has drifted by VERY SLOWLY. Just now I was walking around Lynn’s office on the third floor of the Edison Building in Rosemead, pacing to wake up. As I waited for Lynn to be released so we could escape this place and start our trip, I had been drowsing as I worked at the computer, which, I guess, bodes no good for the blog text I have been writing this morning. Anyway, as I was pacing, I walked by the office of Lynn’s boss, Jim Cullier, and she was in there speaking with him. The atmosphere seemed mighty tense, so I guess she was getting her last-minute review of projects and “to-dos.” As much as she loves her work at Edison (and she does), I know Squeekie will be THRILLED to escape and begin her journey of circumnavigation and discovery. Me too!

An hour later. . . . I just walked in to Squeek’s office to see how things are coming along. She was trying to figure out how to use the new computer-based paysheet system Edison has installed, so that she can distribute through our trip the eleven “approved unpaid leave” days she had to get in order to have enough vacation time to do our cruise. She was angry because something wasn’t going right with the program and she couldn’t fix it. Just one more little detail remaining to be done. . . .

Squeekie at her desk at Edison, tidying up loose ends; Moss-2009-01-19-0450.


A half hour later. . . . The clock just turned over to eleven o’clock. Not much more time until we can leave, but I am daydreaming at the computer now. I caught myself thinking of our departure through the channel at San Pedro. It won’t be long now. Our ship—the Rotterdam—is there already, waiting for us, and already accepting the boarding of passengers on this cruise. Wait for us! We’ll be there soon enough!

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Day One, aboard the ms Rotterdam:

We escaped Edison at 12:15 with the assistance of Tony Blakemore, who offered to drive Lynn and I down to the cruise ship terminal in San Pedro. So off we went, west on the Pomona Freeway (SR60) and south on the Harbour Freeway (SR110). It turns out that Los Angeles’ “World Cruise Terminal” facility at Slip 93 in San Pedro lays just south of the Vincent Thomas Bridge, just at the end of the Harbour Freeway. So we turned off the freeway at the “Cruise Terminal” off ramp, crossed Gaffey Street and pulled into the terminal facility.

Our first view of the Rotterdam at San Pedro; Moss-2009-01-0463.


It was at the entry guard shack where we experienced the first round of terribly grumpy and commanding attitude held by the “renta-cops” who have been hired for security at this facility. The woman in the guard shack listened to Tony as he politely began to say that he was here to drop off his friends for the World Cruise; before Tony could finish she snarled some unintelligible command at Tony and flung her hand out, pointing out to some place which she thought to be important, but which was lost to us. Rebuffed, the usually-confident Tony took off, his head turning to look for some not readily apparent landmark. . . .

Eventually, with the quisling in the guard shack still snarling at us in the background, Tony headed for the sign pointing to Pier 93. That seemed to be correct. Ultimately, other renta-cops pointed us along the correct, approved path, and we were waved to a temporary stopping place right in front of the terminal. But as Squeekie and I came out of Tony’s truck, several more renta-cops descended upon us shouting for us to move, as our truck was blocking the unloading of luggage. Eventually we parked on the far side of the roadway, unloaded our bags, and began to say goodbye to Tony. We were so glad that he had taken the time and trouble to get us from home to the port. But again, curtly angry renta-cops descended upon us and shouted at us to move along. How unwelcoming was this reception!

Squeekie is ready to check in with the Holland-America representative at the cruise center; oh, my, is she excited! Moss-2009-01-19-0471.


It got worse inside the terminal. In spite of banners and balloons put up by Holland-America to welcome their world travelers, grumpy renta-cops, with their shouting (mostly in unintelligibly heavy accents) and hand waving undid the mood of reception. Squeekie passed through the metal detector with no trouble, but my coat buttons and a forgotten pair of dark glasses set off the alarm and I was angrily ordered to a special area to be checked out by some renta-cop who didn’t even speak English. This made me angry in turn, but I had the smarts to realize that speaking my mind would only bring more anger upon me, so I kept my thoughts to myself. But I must opine—many of us have experienced security lines at busy airports, where employees having widely varying skills in speaking English poke us, prod us, and order us about, but never have I personally experienced a security line as bitter and unwelcoming as was this one. How paranoid has our nation become in the wake of 9/11 that we find it necessary to subject even our own citizens to such indignity all in the (I think false) name of “security.”

Eventually I got through, retrieved my roll-along bags and walked over to where Squeekie was patiently waiting for me. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was relieved that I had not lost my temper at the indignities I had endured. Then as we walked through the terminal to the gangway to board the ship, we passed by a Holland-America official who welcomed us, but instead of smiling (as Squeekie did), I just snarled. Man, was I pissed off at the treatment I had experienced—it was nothing like what we had experienced in the ports of San Diego and Seattle, so I wonder if the unwelcoming renta-cops are an unpleasant characteristic of the Port of Los Angeles. . . .

When we checked in a the Holland-America desk I commented on the apparent lack of people. Where were the huge crowds of travelers we had observed at all of our previous sailings? The (very nice) man behind the counter said, “You should have been here an hour ago.” We boarded the ship a little after one o’clock, warmly welcomed by the Holland-America staff. AT LAST! We were aboard and could say that our cruise really had begun. HOORAY!

Squeekie enjoys tea and salad on the Lido Deck; Moss-2009-01-19-0472.

Rooms wouldn’t be ready for occupancy until after 1:30 pm, so Lynn and I went up to the Lido for a salad and something to drink. Once more Squeekie was like a little girl in a candy shop, issuing giggles and excitedly observing things aboard the ship. At a quarter of two we were able to get into our stateroom, and we saw for the first time the place that would be our home for the next four months. We were greeted by the sight of our fifteen pieces of luggage—including the six small pieces we had carried on board today—crammed into our little home away from home. Somehow we would have to unpack all of this in the spaces supplied, but that was not for right now.

The sight of fifteen pieces of luggage greeted us when we went down to our cabin; over the next twenty-four hours somehow we got it all unpacked and stored away—even the suitcases themselves; Moss-2009-01-19-0518.


At four fifteen we had to get our lifejackets and prepare for the mandatory lifeboat drill. Those of you who are cruisers already know about this, but for those of you who haven’t cruised yet, you should know that international maritime law requires a drill before you leave port on departure day. You get your life vests (mine always fit very tightly because they are designed for persons rather smaller than am I), and then follow the directions of the “traffic controllers” (various crew or staff persons) down to the deck where the lifeboats can be accessed—on the Rotterdam that is deck four. There you assemble, meeting passengers from other decks who would share your lifeboat “in the unlikely chance of a disaster at sea,” while the warning alarm blasts from every loudspeaker on the ship. Women are asked to stand in the front and men at the back. Your lifeboat officer takes roll, and after a few minutes all is done and we can take the lifejackets back to our room.

Lynn (above) and Bill (below) after the end of the lifeboat drill. We are still at Slip 93 in San Pedro, but it won’t be long now until we leave. (Above) Moss-2009-01-19-0479; (Below) Moss-2009-01-19-0480.



After the end of the drill, we really begin to get ready to depart. Lynn and I went up to Deck Eight to join the party. Just to the north of where the Rotterdam was parked was the S.S. Lane Victory, a Liberty Ship from World War Two that has been preserved and restored. Once hundreds of ships like this, most built in the several shipyards here in California, carried munitions, food, supplies, vehicles, etc. to American, British, and other Allied soldiers all around the world; now only the Lane Victory here in San Pedro, and another up in San Francisco are the only ones remaining on the Pacific Coast of the United States. Anyway, it was nice to see this tiny ship, as well as the larger, modern cargo ships unloading nearby.

The S.S. Lane Victory, built on Terminal Island in 1944, one of the Liberty ships that helped America win the war; she is preserved right next to the Cruise ship docks in San Pedro; Moss-2009-01-19-0483.

Squeekie makes a “Bon Voyage” phone call to Leslee up in Seattle; Bill called Bob and Nanci Spurgin in Irvine; Moss-2009-01-19-0486.


Just after 5 pm we began to get ready for the Rotterdam to pull away from the dock, so Lynn called Leslee up in Seattle to say good-bye, while I called Bob and Nanci in Irvine. Unfortunately, after these phone calls were made and our last farewells exchanged, the Rotterdam did not pull back from the dock. After a while, Captain van der Waard came on the public speakers to say that the Rotterdam was delaying its departure for a while “due to a medical emergency.” Tragically, it appears that one passenger had endured a heart attack and had to be sent to a local hospital. In the meantime the “Farewell Party” continued out by the outdoor pool on the Lido Deck.


A panorama Moss took of the sail-away activities aboard the Rotterdam as sunset neared; Moss 2009-01-19-Pan in Pedro01


Finally, as the sun sank behind Palos Verdes Hill, around six o’clock, the Rotterdam began backing out of Berth 93. By now it was really too dark to get any pictures, but I tried as best as I could. As we backed out we passed the Lane Victory, with the hill of Palos Verdes behind (see picture), then headed down the Main Channel in San Pedro,

After a delay of one hour, we are leaving. The Rotterdam has just backed out of Slip 93 into the main channel, and is about to head south out through the breakwater; Moss 2009-01-19-0499.

The Los Angeles Harbour Fire Department in San Pedro, with the lights of the city behind; Moss 2009-01-19-0504.


passing the harbour fire department (see picture), and numerous restaurants on the San Pedro side of the channel. Passing by the older piers and warehouses of old San Pedro’s inner and outer harbours, we headed toward an exit in the famous breakwater. As we passed through the breakwater we slowed down to allow the Los Angeles Harbour Pilot to get off our ship, and then it was off to the southwest at full speed. At last we are on our way! Next stop will be Hawaii.


Landing the pilot; Moss 2009-01-19-0515.


By the time we were out of the harbour and on our way southwest toward Hawaii, it was dinner time, so we went aft to the La Fontaine Dining Room, where we were seated at lovely table 22 right next to a window. We met our serving staff, ate a short dinner, and then retired to our cabin. Much unpacking remains to be done, but Squeekie and I are very tired after all of the excitement of the day (and earlier days as we prepared for out trip). It wasn’t very long before our circumnavigators—Lynn, Suzie and Roy—fell asleep. . . .

Squeekie, Suzie, and Roy have crashed for our first night at sea; Moss-2009-01-19-0521.

Preparing for the Trip

Lynn has been excited about this trip for more than a year-- from even before we placed our reservation in November, 2007. Quite often she gets that glassy, far-away look in her eyes and I know she is thinking about something having to do with the trip: what to pack, what to read about in a guide book, what cabin will we be assigned; what excursion should we take in which port, and so forth. It is the topic we most frequently talk about-- with each other and with others. She is now counting off the days until we leave on January 19, 2009.

On Tuesday, November 11th, we celebrated the rarity of a holiday together with a special trip. We took the Metrolink train from Fullerton up to Los Angeles Union Station, where we transferred to the Metro Gold Line trolley and went north up to Pasadena. On Raymond Avenue in downtown Pasadena is a wonderful store which caters to the needs of travellers with an amazing stock of maps, guides, and travellers’ necessities. We spent hours seated in comfortable chairs reading, talking, making notes, reading more, and searching for (and purchasing) a small selection of essentials. I purchased maps for several of the port cities we will be visiting; I love to read maps as a way to discover where to go and what to do. Lynn read guide books and made notes about important things to do. I think that it was this day which started me to realising that the trip is growing near and it really is time for me to begin serious planning for it.

On Wednesday, November 12th I called the 800 number for my medical provider to begin the difficult process of ordering up one huge order of pharmacy for the trip. I take eight different pills each day, and will also need skin creams and seasickness patches, enough to last for the entire 114 days of the trip. It is difficult to obtain so much in one order, and the process to place such an order is long and complex. I should have begun earlier, but at least it is underway.

A few weeks before Christmas Lynn became concerned with our luggage. She was overjoyed to learn that one of the benefits assigned to “entire voyage” travelers such as ourselves was a luggage transfer service in which up to four large pieces each will be picked up at our home and delivered directly to the ship at the start of the voyage, and then collected from the ship at the end and returned to our home address. Insofar as the return trip includes a flight from Miami to Los Angeles, this benefit removes from us the need to hump a sizeable portion of our own luggage on that leg of the trip. This meant that we could pack more pieces than originally we had planned to carry. At the same time, she became concerned with some pieces of her luggage, which were rather worn from earlier usage. Amidst the frenzy of department stores in the week before Christmas, we undertook a campaign to purchase at discounted prices several new pieces of luggage. We discovered Delsey “Helium Fusion” pieces; they were ultra light but very strong thanks to their use of carbon fibre.

On the Saturday after Christmas, we began serious packing for the trip. Lynn, as usual the best planner, laid out a wide selection of clothing in our bedroom and began anticipating clothing needs for each port and event. I am more concerned that the pieces I take will still fit after the weight gain I have had this year.

On January 2nd:

Now it is the New Year and our trip is coming VERY CLOSE. We received our ticket package in the mail just before Christmas, and finally were given our Cabin number—the lack of this latter has bothered Lynn for quite a long while now. We are pleased to learn that we were upgraded two levels of cabin, and have been placed in an “A” cabin on the port side of the ship. We have never traveled on that side of the ship before. Also, we are not too far forward, which is better for dealing with ship motion when the seas are rough.

As I was posting my last Cal State Fullerton grades this morning, I received a phone call from someone at Holland America to remind us that Fed-Ex will pick up our luggage next Thursday, January 8th between noon and 4 o’clock, and to say that the luggage tags are in the mail to us. I guess that means that the final round of packing is about to begin. . . .

. . . and the excitement builds. . . .

On January 3rd

At about 3:00 in the morning of Saturday, January 3rd, I had a seizure while asleep in bed. Lynn says that I fell out of bed and was making noises. She called 911, who sent paramedics that came and, with some difficulty, carried me down stairs to the ambulance. They took me to the emergency room at the Kaiser Permanente Hospital on Lakeview in Anaheim, not my own hospital, where I regained consciousness at some time in the later morning of Saturday, and instantly was devastated that again, just like in Rome in 2007, I had ruined our cruise. Fortunately, the cardiologist decided that I would still be able to go. After several tests and machine reviews, I was released on Monday evening, and I have reasonable assurance from the cardiologist, Dr. Van, that I will be able to go on the trip. I am glad for that because I would not wish to ruin the plans and dreams of my long-suffering wife, who has worked so hard to bring this trip about.

On January 6th:

Today, my first full day home from the hospital, I spent with Lynn at her work. We drove in together, and after an hour or so at Edison, we drove up into Pasadena to visit Dr. Terry, who specializes in the medical needs of people traveling overseas. He was a very nice man, with a real sense of humour (rare in medical doctors, I have found), and he reassured me that my seizure should not interfere with our trip. He reviewed Lynn’s and my medical histories for what shots we had already had, and prescribed what we needed. Lynn got two shots and oral treatment for typhoid and malaria. I got four shots, including refreshers for hepatitis B and polio. I was surprised to learn that the polio vaccines Lynn and I had received as children (remember Dr. Salk and the sugar cubes?) were no longer strong enough to protect us and that we had to get a refresher—we both got the 2 year shot. As I type this now, my right shoulder is stiff and sore from the reactions to the shots we got this morning, but we are both fully protected and don’t need anything else except for the malaria pills when we land in Kenya. Modern medicine has its amazing moments, and Dr. Terry provided one of them for us today!

Our packing is coming along rather well. Lynn is proud that she has packed six formal dresses and nine pairs of shoes; me, I am just hoping that my shirts fit. More to come. . . .

On January 8th:

Last night I finished packing my major luggage: three large suitcases with all of the stuff I will need, from tuxedo down to docker pants. At 11:45 this morning the front doorbell rang and the Federal Express driver was there to pick up our luggage—all eight pieces. And so it went off: four pieces for Lynn, and three for me plus a packed box containing toiletries, maps and travel books, and other such items. I guess our trip has now officially begun!