Wednesday, June 20, 2012

June 20, 2012

Journal notes:

  • New schedule for our arrival in Fiji
  • There be whales here!
  • Frog legs for dinner?




I am feeling much better today.  I can walk without limping, though the blister on my left heel is still raw.  I break fast on two bowls of Muselix - granola cereal with dried fruit.  I do laundry and read on the deck, listening to music.  I am glad to have bought two bottles of sunblock in Tahiti.

At lunch, the captain tells us we have a new schedule.  We will arrive in Fiji on the 24th at 1600, but still keep the same departure time.  I am confident I will be able to walk unencumbered by then, but resolve to rent a car instead of walking so far.  Eric suggests hitch hiking, but quickly adds that one of the guys who picked him up on Mo'orea was so drunk that Eric quickly found an excuse to get the man to pull over and let him out, "to take some pictures."

After lunch, I take a nap in my cabin and do some laundry before settling back on F deck, port side.  The sea is choppy today, and the ship rolls constantly - I haven't felt it roll this much since our approach to Kingston.

Around 1740, I look up from my novel to witness a spray of water come up, maybe a quarter mile ahead of the ship.  "Steven!" a voice calls out from above.  I look up to see Eric pointing out toward the spray.  "It's a whale!"  Indeed, we are surrounded by them, but I don't get any good pictures or videos, despite my best efforts.  They splash out and back in so quickly that it's impossible to train the camera onto them and take a snapshot, and by the time I swap out for the camcorder, we're already well past them.

Dinner is pasta and chicken legs, cut in a peculiar fashion.  "Frog's legs," the chief officer jokes, and I am inclined to agree with him, but the messman insists it's really chicken.  I'm not entirely sure I believe him, but I nod nonetheless.  I ask him what happens to the wine when we don't finish it at mealtime, since we seem to always have a fresh bottle with each meal.  He tells me they go into the pantry fridge, and assures me that they are drank and not poured down the sink or dumped into the sea.

On the way to my cabin, I hear the karaoke machine and stop in to see what's going on.  Binangbang asks me to sing, and I reluctantly oblige, but I have a hard time finding a good song, and I return to my cabin to sleep, after a beer or two.

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