Northwards drifting: fascinating geological and revolting biological information

We had a fleeting visit to Samoa but didn’t go ashore as J still wasn’t feeling too great. (She’s better now.) Upping anchor, we continued to travel northwards. In principle. In fact, we spent several days travelling northwards through the cunning strategem of steaming eastwards for a while and then heading south. It didn’t make much sense to us, but the captain didn’t want to know when we tried to tell him about the shortest distance between two points.

Actually, the reason for these unusual manoeuvres was that, after Samoa, we visited Papeete and Bora Bora. These places are all part of French Polynesia, which occupies an area as big as Europe but comprises just a handful of small islands. Just think how much money they’d make in real estate deals if they filled in all that empty ocean between the islands.

Papeete was surprisingly busy and was supposedly French-speaking. My French, however, drew even more puzzled looks than it does in France, so it could be that they have a strange accent in Tahiti. (It’s equally possible that I have a strange accent, but still…) Otherwise, Tahiti was as advertised, lots of sandy beaches and steep volcanic-sided hills. All a bit commercial though. And expensive. Someone bought a can of Coke and got charged $US8.

The next day we were in Bora Bora, which, as Pacific islands go, was much more like it. It’s a classic atoll shape but the atoll is based on a volcanic crater so it’s quite like a southern-seas version of Santorini. BB was very pretty and you could walk the capital city from end to end in about four minutes.

Following BB, we headed properly northwards, crossed the equator and spent two days in a featureless ocean before arriving at Christmas Island, where we did a slow cruise-past. The island is sandy and flat, with lots of coconut trees. There are a few inhabitants who mainly go fishing and live in two micro-towns called London and Paris. A few of them paddled out in canoes and waved at us in what seemed to be a friendly fashion. The ship decided to have a Christmas party, Santa and all. We didn’t get any presents, though.

From Xmas Island it was lots of ocean and the sea’s been a bit choppy so we haven’t been using the swimming pool so much. There was a brief flurry of excitement yesterday when we were told that there was going to be a lunar eclipse but, although it was total elsewhere, all we could detect was a slight dent in the side of the sun. Maybe we should complain to the cruise line.

Anyway, today it’s Hawaii and as soon as we finish posting this blog entry we’re off to Waikiki beach.

More on the travel side of things later, but now for some fascinating (in a dull sort of way) information about the nature of time… We crossed the international date line a few days ago, with the result that we had two Fridays in a row, which was weird. We will gradually lose the day we’ve gained as we head eastwards.

Even more unusually, we have also managed to be in two days at the same time. Christmas Island is also known as Kiribati, which is (a) pronounced ‘Kiribass’ and (b) part of the kingdom of Tuvalu which comprises a bunch of islands spread over another vast tract of ocean. A few years ago, the clever people of Tuvalu decided to bend the international date line so that (a) all their islands would be on the same time and (b) (the real reason) they could claim that one of their islands would be the first to see in the new millennium. (This island is now called, with breathtaking originality, ‘Millennium Island’.)

So, this clear case of manipulating the space-time continuum resulted in us being present on the ship where it was legally Sunday, surrounded by ocean and bits of land where it was legally Monday.

We didn’t understand it, either.

Anyway, back to life on board. I am pleased to report that the fatigue that dogged me while I was undergoing treatment has now mostly gone, so I’ve stepped up the exercise regime, alternating days at the gym with hour-long scurries (sorta fast walking with occasional wheezy jogs) around the deck. (Three rounds of the deck = 1 mile and I’m building up to 5 miles, which is quite good as a couple of months ago I got out of breath just going for the morning paper.)

Meanwhile, we are doing our best to resist the mountains of food available 24x7 in the half-a-dozen shipboard restaurants. And, in my case, not succeeding. My body is now engaged in a sort of biological arms race, expanding muscles competing for space with rampant fat cells. The result is, I suspect, not a pretty sight. And we’re only a quarter of the way through the voyage.

Otherwise, we pass our days, when we’re not exercising or eating, with reading, talking to people, swimming, sunbathing and participating in the twice-daily quizzes. We have won a couple of the quizzes but competition is fierce. For several days, a group of spotty teenagers won with very high scores. We then realised the little buggers were using a handheld computer to get the answers. We have been urging the crew to reinstate the quaint custom of keel-hauling.

There’s lots of entertainment. The ship offers nightly live shows, which haven’t been much cop so far (as they’ve featured Australian ‘entertainers’!?). Much better are the movies under the stars, where we stretch out on loungers around the swimming pool and watch movies on a giant screen while uniformed flunkies, obviously concerned that a lengthy film could result in us going more than two hours without food, serve us with drinks and popcorn. It’s not a patch on working in an office on a cold, rainy Monday, of course, but we make the best of it.

Anyway, just in case you’re having trouble getting the horrifying imagery of my warring biological functions out of your minds, here’s some more interesting information about the world about us. Have you ever wondered why atolls are round with lots of water in the middle? No? Well, I’ll tell you anyway. What happens is that a volcano erupts, bursts through the surface of the sea and then says to itself ‘gawd, all this erupting has really shagged me out’ and gradually subsides until it’s just a circle of land sticking out above the water. All’s well for a few million years but then the volcanic land starts to sink under its own weight (thus providing an eerie glimpse into what lies in my future if I keep eating all the shipboard fruit pie and custard).

However, as the land sinks, coral grows on it and forms new land. Bits of ground-up coral forms sand (over a few more million years) and you have beaches. Any fresh water streams on the land drain into the water and the fresh water kills the bits of coral around it so you then have channels into the atoll, which is very handy if you’re on a ship.

Once again, the Cartiblog broadens the minds (as well as turning the stomachs) of its readers. Farewell, faithful readers. Hawaii beckons.