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!

-- 0 -- 0 -- 0 --

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.