Farewell Charlie

I was never much of a fan of ABC News. Even when the station I worked for, News10, transitioned from CBS to ABC in the mid-90s, I still would switch back to CBS (or sometimes NBC) when I watched the evening newscast. The reporters on CBS seemed more experienced and savvy, and the anchors at ABC seemed self-indulgent (especially Peter Jennings).

That all changed dramatically two years ago when Charles Gibson was selected to be the latest in a string of anchors to have been pushed through the revolving door at ABC. With Mr. Gibson, there were no gimmicks. There was no air of superiority. Here was an incredibly seasoned and intelligent newsman who had the ability (I guess you might say talent, though I don't particularly like that word when it comes to describing news reporters) to make sense out of what was happening in the world in his own folksy way. I sometimes told my colleagues that Mr. Gibson was the Walter Cronkite of a new generation (if only that generation still got its news from the half hour evening newscasts).

Though I had long ago stopped being a regular viewer of the evening network newscasts, that changed with Mr. Gibson. I recorded each broadcast, and zapping through commercials, would watch the 22 minutes of the most important news of the day. Especially living in a foreign country, it took on new significance and for the first time, became "appointment" television for me.

Tonight, Charlie Gibson anchors his final newscast before heading off into retirement. This week, ABC has presented some of the highlights of his 30+ year distinguished career at the network. Though he somewhat sheepishly introduced the segments each evening, it was evident that he not only was deservedly proud of his accomplishments during his career, but he truly enjoyed what he did. As he put it, it really is the best job in the world.

As he departs, he creates a void in the evening news arena. While Katie Couric and Diane Sawyer are likewise experienced, neither has cultivated the aura of authority associated with the leader of a news organization. And Brian Williams, whose NBC Nightly News is the top rated network newscast, still comes off as the epitome of the news anchor caricature .

If I were Mr. Gibson, I'd be doing the same thing. At age 66, leaving while on top, looking forward to what hopefully will be many years of a healthy happy retirement. And while I wish him well , selfishly I also wish his tenure would have spanned more than two and a half years. Because come Monday, the delivery of news in America will not be the same.

Christmas 2009

Every year I say the same thing. Where did the time go? It is as true in 2009 as it ever has been ... even though it is our first full year of retirement when we thought we’d have all the time in the world.

When we left our jobs in March, 2008, some warned us that we would be totally bored and would want to return to work within a year. Being neither bored (we don't have time to be bored), nor having any desire to return to our jobs (done that), we seem to be muddling through somehow living in Puerto Vallarta from October through June and returning to California for the summer months.

2009 was another year of adventure and revelation ... of swine flu and travel and school and sports and even a bit of work … the ongoing process of figuring out where we want to be and what we want to do. It seems the more time we spend in Mexico, the more we enjoy it. The challenges become fewer, the rewards greater. Of course, a lot of that is due to an attitude adjustment and the acceptance that manana doesn’t necessarily mean tomorrow. It’s just sometime in the future other than today. Through it, we have become more tolerant and patient. Forcing U.S. timetables and expectations and customs on Mexico doesn’t work, nor is it right.

Probably more than anything, 2009 could be described as a year of travel. And as we found, there is such a thing as too much. Kurt’s mom spent the holidays with us last year, and while she was here, we drove to San Miguel de Allende and spent a fun week in that quaint Mexican town in January. In February, we did an RSVP cruise out of Fort Lauderdale to the Caribbean, our first of two cruises for the year. In March, after the Caribbean cruise, I made an unannounced last minute trip back to northern California. My former boss at News10, Stacy Owen, was leaving the station and I wanted to surprise her at her going away party ... but that was only part of the fun. I didn't tell my family that I was coming back to the U.S. My mom damn near died of shock when I rang her doorbell and there I was. She just kept saying, "I can't believe it, I can't believe it." We had a fun weekend.

Then, it was back to PV for the rest of March and into June (with a few side trips to Sayulita and Mascota). In June, we left Mexico for the summer. After heading to the Bay Area in June for the wedding of Kurt’s nephew, then Laguna Beach in July for Kurt’s birthday, we ventured to Tahiti for the big travel event of the year.

We flew from LA to Papeete for a 10 day cruise aboard the MS Paul Gauguin which included stops at about 6 ports. It is a beautiful part of the world, unlike any other place we've visited. Moorea and Bora Bora are spectacular, and the ship itself was amazing. There were only 300 passengers, and the cruise was all inclusive (tours, tipping, recreation, adult beverages) so you're not nickel and dimed (like on other ships where you can rack up an onboard bill which totals nearly as much as the cruise itself). The food was gourmet (we knew it would be good from the first night we boarded when as a midnight snack they had the best soft shell crabs we've ever had ... and the caviar for lunch the next day wasn't too bad either). Lots of snorkeling, swimming with sting rays and sharks and hiking. As beautiful as it was, we probably won't go back .... there are other places we want to see first.

During the summer, we centered our activities out of Palm Springs where we still have a home that we rent out as a vacation rental. Believe it or not, the 115 degree weather in the desert is much more desirable than the 95 degrees weather in Puerto Vallarta where daily torrential rains assure that the humidity hovers at or near 100% all the time. But in reality, we really weren’t in Palm Springs for very long at any one time.

In August, we drove up the eastern Sierra, and spent several days in Graeagle at Kurt’s mom’s mountain cabin. From there, it was off to Clear Lake for three weeks, including several days with my mom. Then we made our way up the California and Oregon coast ... Crescent City, Yachats, then Portland where we got to see our friends Butch and Dave and their two great kids. We really liked Portland and thought it was a city where eventually we could live. From there it was up to Seattle for 11 days, staying at a house right on Puget Sound. We liked it so much, we're going back next year.

After driving back to Palm Springs, we were there for only a few days before flying to Kona for two weeks. We could have gone without the Hawaii trip (remember, I said there is such a thing as too much travel), but it was nice spending time with Kurt's mom and sister who were there with us. We got back to Palm Springs in mid-October (the nicest time of the year there), but it was a short stay. On October 27, we flew back to Puerto Vallarta for the winter.

2010 will probably bring a lighter travel schedule, though we are doing several vacation home exchanges (we swap Palm Springs for a week or so with others who have vacation homes) and we will be visiting San Miguel de Allende, Seattle, and Gabriola Island (a short ferry hope from Victoria, BC). We also keep looking for last minute cruise specials, one of the benefits of having the freedom to go when you want to go, and not worry about work schedules.

During the summer, we made some good decisions. Last year, we got too involved with the politics of living in a condominium (it's not all fun). So this year, we've separated ourselves from the pettiness that at times seemed to thrive here, and we are much happier to be away from it. We also decided to pursue interests beyond the circle of friends we have made in our complex. Kurt has joined the PV Tennis Club and plays tennis several times a week. I have gone back to school and am taking Spanish classes at the University of Guadalajara PV campus. I also take several long walks through different neighborhoods here each week, meeting locals and talking Spanish. These activities have introduced us to new friends and people in the community. And again, they have provided a good diversion from the politics at Condominios Avalon. That being said, we have developed some very good relationships with some of our new neighbors here, particularly David & Nelly who live directly below us and came to visit us at Clear Lake this past summer.

In addition to all that, I was back at work in 2009 (but for only two days). When the swine flu first surfaced in Mexico in spring, I did several TV reports for KTVU, Channel 2 in Oakland/San Francisco and News10 in Sacramento … back to shooting, writing, editing, and feeding over the Internet. I also did several interviews with KGO Radio in San Francisco and KFBK Radio in Sacramento. It was fun, but just for a couple of days. As I sit here in Puerto Vallarta and watch the evening newscasts where reporters are standing in the pouring rain or blowing snow, I realize how much I really do not miss it.

Our families are both doing well. As I mentioned, Kurt's nephew Sean got married in June. Also in June, my youngest nephew, Jason, graduated from Nevada Union High School and is now attending Chico State. Except for chronic back pain, my mom is doing great. She still goes to Tahoe a lot with my brother and sister-in-law and each week enjoys a martini lunch with one of her friends in Nevada City. And we are doing great. No swine flu in this household.

Likewise, we hope that this letter finds you and your family well. Merry Christmas, best wishes for 2010, and if your travels bring you to Puerto Vallarta, let us know and we’ll get together for a cerveza or margarita.

Happy Thanksgiving to All

On this Thanksgiving Day, I wanted to share some of the great scenes we have been enjoying the last few days few days in Puerto Vallarta. Where ever you may be, I hope your day is filled with joy.

Thanksgiving morning sunrise over PV.

Two of the four ships in port yesterday departing the city and sailing into the sunset.





Last night's sunset.

Ironman World Champion

It's one of those sporting events that truly is much better to watch on TV. It begins just after dawn and it covers 2.4 miles swimming, 112 miles biking, and 26.2 miles running. All consecutively, all in one day.

So if you wanted to see the 2009 Ironman World Championship in Kailua-Kona, like I did, you only get to see one small glimpse of the torturous exercise that 1800 athletes partook in today.

Since the run, the last leg of the race, included a small stretch near where we are staying, we decided to head to the course shortly before the first runner (#24, Chris Lieto, 37, of Danville, CA) reached the 4 mile mark. The conditions today are brutal. A heat wave has hit the Big Island ... 90 degrees. And on top of that, the humidity today hovered around 70%. Water down the throat, ice on your head, ice on your chest, ice in your crotch ... we saw it all today.


Throughout the week, we've been watching these athletes in training. Totally focused ... fat free. Today, was their day. While Lieto was five minutes ahead of the next closest runner when we saw him, he cramped up later, and gave up the lead to previous champ Craig Alexander, 37, of Australia. Alexander went on to win in 8 hours, 14 minutes, 4 seconds. Lieto was second at 8:16:15. Chrissie Wellington of the UK came in tops in the women's field at 8:54.02.

Here are some cool pictures of hot runners as they approached the end of the race.

To Kill A President

I had written the following blog two weeks ago, but hesitated in publishing it. It didn’t quite fit into what I had been posting here recently in this spot. But this morning, after hearing more hate filled talk about Barack Obama after he received the Nobel Peace Prize (if you didn’t hear it, check out the LA Times article on reaction from Rush Limbaugh and others), I decided it's time to post.

It’s been an interesting summer, returning to the US and traveling to some great spots and meeting fun people. And it’s not quite over yet. But as I get ready to return to my winter home in Puerto Vallarta, I prepare to the leave the United States with some real concerns.

I wonder … when did it become acceptable to basically call for the assassination of the President? Sure there has been dissension in the past … God knows most of the world (and many Americans) despised George W. Bush who single-handedly did more to ruin our economy, drag us into an unnecessary war, and turn world opinion against the US more than anyone else in our country’s history. But never did we hear the left call for the elimination of his life.

Yet now, on FOX TV, on conservation radio, and all over the Internet, it is not at all unusual to hear loud, boisterous, obnoxious rhetoric spewed as fact that Barrack Obama should be ousted, if not outright killed. A prime example is the coverage given to Arizona pastor Steven Anderson who asked his parishioners to pray hard and long that “God strikes Obama with brain cancer so he can die like Ted Kennedy.” That’s what Fox (and probably other outlets) aired on several shows. Fox’s website included Anderson’s comments that he hopes Obama “dies and goes to hell.” This was followed by a now well publicized poll on AOL asking participants if they thought Mr. Obama should be assassinated. The Secret Service and FBI are investigating that case.

Grabbing onto issues such as health care and Afghanistan, the likes of Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh and Lou Dobbs and others have raised the noise level in their outright disgust of Barrack Obama. They have ignited a fire, then thrown fuel on it, and have created an environment where facts are easily forgotten … where fear mongering garners more viewers and listeners. The result is a society, where for the first time in American history, the public call for the death of a President has seemingly become acceptable. Any attempt to silence such outrageous talk is met with cries that freedom of speech is being infringed upon, much like a deranged individual might claim should he shout “Fire!” in a crowded theater.

The hate talk has also given rise to some outrageous emails, many anonymously circulated but then further distributed by those who for one reason or another felt the previous eight years in Washington was superior to the last nine months. I receive these emails from two different individuals who blindly forward them onto anyone they think might listen. It does not matter that they are largely based on false information (and even contain attributions that are non-existent), and are crafted by right wing fanatics who are apparently seeking the overturn of government as we know it.

The most recent such email came from a former boss of mine. In it, he said to me “I can't understand Democrats supporting this President.” His message read, in part, as follows (I’ve left the spelling and grammatical errors intact):

“This is a perfect example why I refrain from watching the news on

ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN or NSNBC. Fox was the only news to report this

(20 Aug 2009).

Today even though President Obama is against off shore drilling for

Oil for this country. He signed an executive order to loan 2

Billion of our taxpayers dollars to a Brazilian Oil Exploration Company (which is the

8^th largest company in the entire world) to drill for oil off the coast

Of Brazil. The oil that comes from this operation is for the sole purpose and

use of China and not the USA. Not a

word of this transaction was on any of the other news

networks. I wonder what President Obama is getting out of

this?”

After I received this, I did some simple research using Google. It appears the reason that the other news networks did not mention this is that it is not true. When I went to Foxnews.com, I found their article. It does not collaborate what the email claims. According to Fox: “In fact, the Export-Import bank receives no appropriations from Congress and thus does not rely on American taxpayer dollars and is also not "sending" $2 billion to the Brazilian company but offering lines of credit to U.S. firms so they can compete to land contracts as part of Petrobras' drilling operations.” That’s from Fox.

This email has gotten so much traction and is considered as “fact” by so many that the Annenberg Public Policy Institute conducted a fact check on it. Their independent analysis found the email and the “facts” contained in it are bogus (http://www.factcheck.org/2009/09/bogus-brazilian-oil-claims/). Yet, the right wing continues to disseminate it as gospel, further clouding the murky skies they have already created.

Largely to blame are the uncontrolled media, so called news outlets that often fly under the radar of the FCC which until two decades ago mandated that broadcasters actually do provide “fair and balanced” coverage. As the Fairness Doctrine has largely been eroded, equal time for opposing views has been wiped out. Add to that the flood of non-licensed broadcasters (basically anything you get on cable besides your local stations … ie, FOX News, CNN, MSNBC, etc), and our country has provided a very large platform for the lunatic fringe, with little chance for the average middle of the road American to have a voice.

While those who espouse the demise of the President (and our way of government) are probably little more than mouthpieces (it’s easy to sit in a cable TV studio or behind a radio station microphone and spew baseless hate filled talk to the masses), they run the risk of inciting the more feeble-minded, who as history has shown us, are capable of carrying out despicable acts. Legitimate dissension and debate are healthy and can lead to a better understanding of issues. But what is happening here and now has crossed that line. And those who support this kind of politics and rhetoric could all end up with blood on their hands should they continue.

.

More from Moorea

As beautiful and exotic as Bora Bora is, multiply that several times when you get to Moorea. It helped that it was a cloudless crystal clear day, but that aside, Moorea is the epitome of a tropical Tahitian paradise.

Transparent waters, great kayaking and swimming, and on a tour of the island from high above, and unparallel view of the spot where Captain Cook first set foot here.

I'll keep this short and throw a couple of pictures here because I want to make the next tender on shore to the internet cafe ... one more blog to follow before we return.

Radio Bora Bora Calling

Bora Bora has now faded into the sunset and dropped off the horizon after leaving a lasting impression of the absolute best snorkeling and underwater experiences I've ever had. It didn't really matter that it poured rain most of the second day we were there, our plans were to get wet anyway. So, at about 8:30, we left the ship, took a tender to shore, and hooked up with a local gal named Nora. Now, Nora is in her 60s, a rather rotund retired school teacher, born and raised on Bora Bora. But unlike Jay Tuday (remember, the off road four wheel driver who never left the island in his 28 years except to go to the hospital), Nora is proud to say she has been to LA and Paris. But she admits, she'd much rather be here ... and shortly we discovered why.

With one of her pals serenading us by ukulele, Nora had the flat bottom boat maneuver first to a shallow sandbar near the reef that protects Bora Bora, about a mile from land. As we approached, first one, then two, then three, then dozens of stingrays began surrounding the boat. Ladder lowered, we entered the cool water (yeah, it's not as warm as we thought it would be) to begin swimming with the stingrays. You don't really swim with them, but they come up to you, nuzzle you with their slippery bodies, looking for a handout. Give them a fish and they're happy, pull on their barbs and they aren't (remember Steve Irwin). After a half hour of so there, no one stung, Nora tells us to get back n board, she's got another place for us to go.

The next stop was the shallow coral reef that stretched for miles around Bora Bora. I wish I had an underwater camera to share what we saw because it was pretty damn indescribable. Even if you’ve seen videos in HD on the underwater experience here, it really can’t adequately capture it.

Thousands and thousands of the most brilliantly colored fish and sea life living among towering underwater monuments of coral. It was like swimming in your own huge well stocked underwater aquarium, but better. The only downfall is it was cold and rainy. Without the sunshine, a lot of us got chilled and the hour excursion was cut down to 45 minutes. All the way back to the pier where we caught the tender back to the ship, it poured rain. Fortunately, the ship did not run out of hot water from the inevitable flood of showers that everyone rushed to take.

Vacations aren't only about relaxing, exploring, meeting new people, seeing the natural wonders of the world. They are about reconnecting with yourself. So, for those of you who know me well, it should come as no surprise that when I returned to Bora Bora that afternoon after the rain stopped to hike around, and I spotted a wooden sign hanging over a dilapidated building that said "Radio Bora Bora," I was intrigued. Though I did TV most of my life, radio was really my true vocational love ... not the corporate crap that has taken over the American airwaves, but the "true local serve your community" type stations that we used to have. If there was any true raw radio left on this planet, I figured I might find it at Radio Bora Bora.

As I entered the building, a young woman wearing flowing Tahitian garb who spoke no English greeted me and gestured for me to come in and follow her (I think she thought I was bringing a new supply of CDs or something). She took me to a small room at the end of a long hallway where a very large Tahitian man was sitting behind a mixing board, the type I used when I first started at KPCO in Quincy in 1976. He spoke English and when I told him I used to work in radio and TV in the U.S. I was suddenly his new best friend for the afternoon. He told me he was the owner and he was very proud of the little FM station that he put on the air six years ago. He told me Radio Bora Bora is the only radio station on the island, in fact the only radio station they receive, and before he put it on the air, there was no radio here at all. It is all local, with five employees who play Tahitian music from 6:30 AM when they sign on to 11:30 PM when they sign off (sometimes he said bowing to pressure from the young Tahitians, he will play Lady Gaga's Poker Face).

His station is computerized, CDs recorded onto a hard drive and like stations in the US, programmed by touch screen. Attached to a pole at the side of the building was a miniature microwave dish that sends the program to a transmitter on a nearby hillside. Two other islands also now receive Radio Bora Bora.

I didn't get his name, but he wanted me to take a picture of him and me so I would remember Radio Bora Bora. Along with the stingrays, and coral, and fish, the little radio station with the big Tahitian man will be part of the great memories of Bora Bora. Alas, radio the way used to be does exist ... though you have to go to the South Pacific to find it.

Bonjour de Bora Bora

After another rocky night at sea, but one that started out with one of the most awesome orange sherbet colored sunsets you‘ve ever seen, the Paul Gauguin anchored in the bay surrounded by Bora Bora. While the first several ports, Huahine, Raiatea, and Rangiroa seemed to have little to offer (at least to us … some people raved about how quaint they were with their third world charm … to which I replied I live in a third world country most of the year), Bora Bora has a beauty all its own.

Up with the sun at 7:00 AM, breakfast by 8:00, we took the second tender into town where we were met by Jay Tuday, our guide for today (get it, Tuday, today … uh ,yeah). You see, Jay has one of those open air Land Rovers (benches in the back … fortunately padded) and he promised us and four other passengers that he would take us off-roading to points high above Bora Bora where few ever trek. Jay did not disappoint.
We saw the obligatory pineapple field and black pearl farm, all right along the main paved road that hugs the white sand shore around the entire island. Then, Jay said, "Hold on." A hard left turn, and we were off the road, onto a rock/dirt path, that was carved up a sheer volcanic mountainside by American forces back in 1942. If you have been on the Giant Dipper in Santa Cruz, envision that (seriously), but instead of being on an OSHA approved track, you’re climbing and falling, twisting and turning, over miles of severely rutted road (and in some spots, no road). The payoff was the most amazing views that few have the opportunity to see.

The ocean colors, the homes built over the water, the tropical rain forests. Not one, but three mountain tops we wound our way to … the last being the abandoned military outpost where canons, which never had to be used in actual combat, still sit, a left over souvenir of the US presence in WWII (the airfield here was also built by the Americans during the war and turned over to the people of Bora Bora who use it today as their main airport).

In addition to the adventure, we got great insight of Bora Bora life from Jay. 28 years old, he has

been off the island only once in his life. That’s when he was injured in a motorcycle accident and had to be taken to the hospital on the nearby island of Raiatea, a 90 minute boat ride. His parents live on an even smaller island about 15 minutes from here. Too difficult to get to, he says, so the last time they visited was two years ago. He said he loves providing tours, and he said it is very easy to find a job here … because nobody wants to work. He said he lives in a small house on the beach. In the afternoon after work, he’ll fish to catch dinner. Or, if he feels like it, he’ll take his small boat to a reef 100 yards out and pluck lobsters from the shallow ocean bottom (he said he’s tired of lobster though, but loves to cook and would like them again if he could find a new recipe for them … life‘s tough for Jay). He said he’ll probably not get married because he is related to everyone on the island … "just wouldn’t be right, if you know what I mean," he said. I told him maybe he could go online to find someone in the Internet. "Yeah, that would be fine," he said, "but the Internet here takes about two hours to upload a picture, so it’s too much effort."

For a lot of us, no cell phones, painfully slow internet, one or two TV stations, unable to travel, it would be misery after a while. But here, honestly, they are a very happy people. The co-exist in a society that has almost stood still over time. There is virtually no crime, only two police officers (which Jay says just drive around the island twice a day wasting gas), there is no jail, no court system. On top of that, it’s one of the most beautiful places on earth. I don’t think it’s the type of place where I could live, but it is a great place to visit and explore … so now, I will catch the next tender to go onshore, and explore for a Internet connection which hopefully will be faster than one Jay talked about. If you see this and there are pictures with it, it means I found one.

Update ... I obviously did find one ... the only one on the entire island ... slow, but it works.

Somewhere out in the Pacific

Somewhere in the South Pacific, the M/S Paul Gauguin is slicing through the eight foot swells in a very choppy ocean. At noon today, nearly 36 hours after we anchored off the shores of Rangiroa, we raised anchor and set sail again under sunny warm balmy skies.

Like the two previous stops, the small communities on the two atolls of Rangiroa, have been sparse at best. On Saturday, we took a tender to the enclave of Avatoru. Other than a hotel, comprised of thatched roofs and cottages built on a pier over the crystal clear blue bay, there is not much here. We hiked about a half mile over rough coral covered shores to reach a white sandy beach adjacent to the resort. With snorkeling equipment we snagged on the ship, we set out into the lagoon for a close-up look of exotic fish and coral. Truly beautiful, though so far the snorkeling has not been as visual or plentiful as Caribbean snorkeling. An hour in the water and we were ready to move on taking the small shuttle boat back to the main ship.

This morning (Sunday), before setting sail, we took the tender into the adjacent village of Tiputa, which is less than a quarter mile from Avatoru but separated a narrow deep swath of ocean (deep enough that our ship squeezed through during today’s departure). A couple of churches, a post office, a tiny store, and a pay phone (no Internet here)… that’s Tiputa Beyond the amenities (or in this case, lack of), what stands out are the people and the dogs. Everyone here is very friendly. They all smile at you, greet you with "Bonjour." There are no gangs here, no attitude, no graffiti. Even the teenagers, unspoiled by the opulence that often guides teen’s life in other parts of the world … i.e., the US … are genuinely polite. They would rather stop and talk with you, a stranger, than sit there texting their friends about Britney Spears (oops, no cell phones, so no texting … and if you ask who Britney Spears is, you’d likely get a puzzled look).

As friendly as the people are, so are the dogs. I would bet the population of this one atoll would be about 200 … the dog population easily exceeding the people population. I walked the entire island, arriving with a camera, backpack, and bottle of water. By the end of the one hour walk (that’s all it took to explore the entire island), I’d attracted three four legged friends who followed me everywhere I went. One, a black lab, even went into the moderate surf apparently to go fishing. But after several underwater dives, he only resurfaced empty-mouthed. He and his two other pals returned to the beach and followed me back to the pier for the tender back to the main ship. When I got back to the cement slab pier, four young boys had gathered, each with an empty soda bottle. The ship brings a jug of water and punch on shore for passengers, but since I was on the last tender off the island, and no one after me would want the punch or the water, the ships crew fills the boys’ bottles with whatever water and punch remained. The kids, bottles filled, left happy, as did I.

Back on the ship, lunchtime … barbecued ribs and calamari were today’s feature. One thing that stand out on this ship compared to others is the quality of construction and the service, which I’ve already mentioned. It’s more like a fine hotel, with teak wood cabinetry in the stateroom (not plastic like most ships), and a simple elegance (not loaded up with mass produced gaudy artwork). The service and the food truly are the best I’ve encountered on a ship. With so few people on board (350), perhaps it is easier to operate more like an upscale hotel and gourmet restaurant compared to a Travelodge and banquet hall.
The downside, a small boat rocks a lot more in the open seas than a large ocean liner does. And more than once, I have been startled awake in the middle of the night thinking we’re having an powerful earthquake before remembering where I was. Speaking of which, I think it’s time for a nap.
The next port … Bora Bora at 8:00 tomorrow morning.

Friday in Raiatea (look that up in your spell check)

Traveling to some new exotic foreign land always brings with it anticipation, mystery, intrigue, and at times challenges. Fortunately, except for finding an Internet connection on a tiny island in the middle of the South Pacific, the challenges have been few ... the intrigue plentiful.

As often occurs in 21st century travel, it does not seem possible that a mere 48 hours ago, I was at home in Southern California. Now, on the second stop of a ten day Tahitian cruise, So Cal seems a distant experience.

The eight hour flight from LAX to Papeete aboard Air Tahiti Nui was relatively painless. The seats not overly cramped (though a bit hard), the food actually quite edible, we left LA at 4:30 PM and arrived at 9:30 PM (because of the time change) in the tropics ... the Papeete FAAA airport reminding me of similar airfields I visited nearly a decade ago in central America during a journey that took me to nearly a dozen small Latin Americans towns. No jet ways here, just the old metal stairways they wheel up to the front and back of the Airbus in preparation for the short walk to the terminal where security appears non-existent and Polynesian girls are on hnd to welcome you with a flower lei. We had arrived.

The ship is the Regent Seven Seas "Paul Gauguin," the smallest cruise ship I have even been on. There are only 350 passengers (it is sold out), and a staff of about 200. They fall over themselves waiting on you. Unlike the larger ships that can carry 2000+ passengers, everything here is compact. There is one central elevator, one central stairway, four decks where all the activities are. And, unlike the big ocean liners, here you're not traipsing down hallways the length of football fields just to get from your room to the pool, the gym, the restaurants, or closest bar.

And everything ... well, almost everything ... is included in the fare. You want a Grey Goose martini up with an olive. It's yours. Nothing to sign, no bill to pay, and no tipping. How about some Russian caviar or fresh Pacific oysters on the half shell? Grab a plate and a spoon. (The food is the BEST we have ever had on a cruise ... comparable to the best San Francisco restaurants). Want to water ski, kayak, snorkel ... go to the swim/activities deck, let them know, and hop on the boat. Now, there are charges for shore some excursions, and spa services like massages, and if you want some of the best French wine ever bottled, it'll set you back up to $800. But if you want two buck chuck, it's included (just kidding, just kidding ... the complimentary wine is very good French and Chilean wine).

The first two stops, Huahine and Raiatea, part of the Society Islands, are pretty much two tiny towns settled on two tiny islands in the middle of a very big sea. Amenities are few. One grocery store (where prices are totally outrageous because almost everything has to be imported from great distances ... Australia, France, & the US seem to be the main source of goods here), one gas station, a couple of pay phones, a paved stretch of narrow road that winds through town, and a small population of easy going islanders who great you with "Bonjour" and speak very little English. The main form of transportation is by foot, bike, boat, and kayak ... pretty much in that order. White sand beaches pretty much line the shores upon which the towns emerged generations ago.

Though the ocean here is crystal clear with an aqua blue hue, we are told this is pretty ugly compared to what lies ahead. For us, the main activities of swimming, snorkeling, hiking, diving, etc, begin on Monday when we arrive in Bora Bora. For now, it's mostly just walking around.

The walk through Huahine yesterday took about 10 minutes. Today, the walk through Raiatea, in between downbursts of heavy rain, took about 30 minutes. We watched from the dock of a group of about 40 school kids carrying back packs and bedding boarded a ferry for a winter retreat on a nearby island. South of the equator, it is the middle of winter here, and it has rained much of the day, with very strong winds. As a result, the captain said the swells are about 8 to 9 feet. And while the ship, being as small as it is, is more susceptible to the rocking of the seas, it's not bothering me (though it is pretty funny watching passengers stumble down the hallways

For now, I'm going to leave the stateroom, exit the ship, and head over to the Internet cafe to upload this blog (hopefully the connection is better than dial-up, though some people I talked with said it is pretty slow). Internet permitting, I'll be back.

The Next Adventure

Sitting in the lounge adjacent to Gate 103 at the Tom Bradley International Terminal ... LAX. It's the vacation we had been planning for a year. Almost everyone says Tahiti is the most beautiful spot in the world. The one person who said it was overrated lives in Portland. A beautiful city in itself, and if he's right, I could have saved a few grand and flown Southwest to PDX. But, I'll be the judge.

The flight aboard Air Tahiti Nui is eight hours ... in coach. But they say their coach is like business class (I hope it's like good business class, not the type of business class on American from Dallas to Palm Springs. I digress).

When we arrived at 9:15 tonight in Papeete, after customs, we head directly to the Radisson Seven Sea's cruise ship Paul Gauguin. We sail at midnight. It will be an adventure.

Internet permitting, I'll share with you what I can. Au revoir.

I don't normally watch the local CBS affiliate KPSP-2 here in Palm Springs for news, but last night at 5:00 when the ABC station KESQ-3 didn't have any details on a "major breaking story" I began surfing and found that KPSP was actually already on the scene (that may have been how KESQ learned there was a "breaker"). It wasn't that story that made last night's newscast on Channel 2 such a memorable broadcast. Instead, about 10 minutes later, right in the middle of the live program, with no warning from the anchors, a CBS News Special Report graphic and sounder interrupted the local newscast. A moment later, Katie Couric informed us that CBS News legend Walter Cronkite died.

I could not help but reflect back 46 years earlier when there was another bulletin on TV. This time, it was Cronkite who, in a hurried voice, broke into "As the World Turns" to announce that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas. At that moment, television news came of age. It was largely because of Cronkite and the professional approach that CBS exhibited at that time that television news evolved into the powerful information source it has become. Purists would argue that unfortunately, somewhere along the way, the TV news gathering and delivery process became derailed, and now in 2009, TV news is really little more than another entertainment source where the latest car chase or celebrity death edges out more meaningful or pertinent coverage of budget crisis or world conflicts.

Cronkite had become critical of the state of TV news in recent years, and for very good reason. Young broadcasters today who never even saw a Cronkite newscast really have little understanding of the great institution TV news once was. Perhaps it is best put by Robert Lloyd, Television critic for the Los Angeles Time.

"For many who grew up in the 1960s and '70s, Walter Cronkite was the voice of unfolding history. On the "CBS Evening News" and on the spot, his eloquent mediation of the great events of an age almost pathologically overflowing with them was essential to the way those events were understood. Even when he was temporarily at a loss for words -- his tears at the death of John F. Kennedy, his inarticulate glee at the moon landing ("Whew, boy!") -- he somehow spoke for the nation he spoke to.

Cronkite was not just a newsman; he was -- like Edward R. Murrow, who brought him to CBS and television -- as close a thing to the idea of a newsman as his age imagined. Except perhaps for Chet Huntley and David Brinkley, his high-powered NBC competition, all TV news anchors, news readers and news reporters, even the most august of them, seemed like variations on his theme, shadows of his Platonic ideal. A decade after his retirement from the anchor's chair, he was still being named the most trusted man in network news."

Thank you Mr. Cronkite.

Where have the fruit stands gone? Long time passing.

I’ve been lazy. At least when it comes to freshening up the old blog. Part of it is because I have been busy. Last month, we left Puerto Vallarta just as the first steamy humid waves of a rain infused summer descended on the city. We arrived in Palm Springs just as the first blow-torch blasts of heat started baking the oven we call the desert (I’m already tired of hearing people say, “Well, is it hot enough for you?” It’s 114, whacha think, eh?). And now we’ve headed to Laguna Beach for three days, part of the house trade thing we’re doing with others who own cool places in resort towns (www.homeexchange.com … check it out).

So as I been living life back in the U.S. for a month now, there are some observations … some good, some not so good … but observations none the less that piqued my interest … and which I will blabber on about … here … on my blog … from time to time ... throughout the summer … in between travel blogs … so here it is … number 1 (damn it, get to it).

In all the years I lived in California, 50+, one of the best things about being here was the summer fruit season. And along with the season came the opening of the roadside fruit and vegetable stands. As a kid, I remember our family taking Highway 99 through Stockton and Fresno and Bakersfield, all along the way the road dotted with billboards “Fresh Tomatoes Ahead,” “Farm Fresh Peaches 1 Mile,” “Local Corn next exit.”

Even as I worked at News10, stories in the summer that took me to Yuba and Sutter Counties meant stopping along Highway 70 and picking up a crate of the biggest and best peaches you ever tasted. And though it was more like a small store than a fruit stand, Pedrick Produce along I-80 in Dixon and Nick’s Produce in Sebastopol always had the best bargains on the freshest local fruits and vegetables in the Sacramento area. But something has changed. The fruit stands of California are disappearing.

A couple of weeks ago when driving from Nevada City to Palm Springs along Highway 99, we had planned on stopping at several of the tiny roadside markets, often staffed the by children of the farmers who grow the tree sweetened fruit and golden corn and juicy tomatoes. We passed through Galt and Stockton and Modesto … plenty of strip malls and shopping centers and Starbucks, but not one fruit stand. Turlock, Merced, Fresno, Visalia … same thing. We were amazed and disappointed.

Then, just outside of Bakersfield, a slice of hope. A hand painted sign perch in a field along the freeway proclaimed “Fresh peaches, next exit.” We pulled off, wound through the tiny town of McFarland, and came upon what apparently is the last of a dying breed ... the California fruit stand. Under a large shady tree, with tables fashioned out of wooden crates, we picked up some apricots and peaches, the kind you used to find everywhere (not like the stuff you buy at Safeway). And I told the farmer, in his plaid shirt and overalls, that I was surprised that there were no longer many fruit stands. “Can’t do it, anymore,” he growled. “The state has shut us down.”

According to this farmer, he said the state regulations have become so onerous for the small farmer, that you pretty much need the type of business license that a grocery store needs even if you want to sell figs or plums by the side of the road. You need restrooms and sanitary facilities for customers. You need to make your stand ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) compliant. You need to pay minimum wage and provide certain benefits to the workers, and there is a minimum age for employment which rules out the kids working at the parents’ stand. As a result, he said, the old fashioned roadside fruit stand is a relic of a bygone era, at least in California. As for his small business, he had workers pick the fruit from his trees and he staffs the stand himself. He put one of those portable outhouses over on the side, along with a sink and soap for sanitation. A patch of carpet was unrolled over the dirt lot to meet handicap requirements. He did the best he could, but was the lone survivor of what used to be a string of such fresh fruit outlets through California’s bread basket. He told me this would probably be his last year.

How much of what he told me is true, I don’t know. But when I Googled California fruit stand regulations, I did find a 2008 article from the Chronicle that pretty much said what the farmer told me, and raised concerns that the fate of the roadside farmer was questionable at best.

So, a part of California history is nearly wiped out by over zealous legislators and bureaucrats … probably the same people that bitch and complain that the fruit you buy in the grocery stores isn’t like what it used to be. And it’s true, The peaches you buy at Safeway or Raleys or Alberstons or most any other store are so hard, you could play baseball (not softball, but baseball) with them. And they never seem to ripen. And tomatoes taste like they were picked green last year, refrigerated, then painted red. Ah, but at least it is all sanitized and wrapped in plastic for us. At the time of a budget crisis and stalement where our elected leaders can’t seem to get their act together to get the state fiscally sound again, at least they are good at one thing … making sure we’re safe from those dangerous fruit and vegetable stands and the toxic food they once sold by the side of the road.

Where have all the fruit stands gone?
Long time passing.
Where have all the fruit stands gone?
Long time ago.
Where have all the fruit stands gone?
Regulators have closed them every one.
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Come to Mexico

OK, so the swine flu hasn't been the killer of the century as originally feared (or as originally portrayed in the media). Yet what the N1H1 flu has done is damn neared killed the tourist industry here in Puerto Vallarta. Empty streets, hotels, restaurants and night spots. Laid off workers desperate to find some way to make a living. It's so bad that this week while visiting Sayulita, instead of saying "No, Gracias," we actually bought things from the beach vendors trying to help them out (I love my new shark tooth necklace and hand painted book marks!).

Considering that other than a couple of isolated cases of the flu here, PV has been relatively immune from the virus, but very susceptible to the hype.Now comes word that it is officially OK for PV to come back to life.

This week, the Jalisco government decided it was safe enough to reopen everything ... theaters, clubs, bars ... everything ... no restrictions.

Today, as we believed it was all along, the U.S. has declared it is OK to come back to Puerto Vallarta and Mexico.

The Center for Disease Control in the U.S. issued the following statement, lifting its advisory to avoid travel to Mexico:

Updated: May 15, 2009
CDC’s Travel Health Warning recommending against non-essential travel to Mexico, in effect since April 27, 2009, has now been downgraded to a Travel Health Precaution for Mexico.
Current Situation
CDC has been monitoring the ongoing outbreak of novel H1N1 flu in Mexico and, with the assistance of the Mexican authorities, has obtained a more complete picture of the outbreak. There is evidence that the Mexican outbreak is slowing down in many cities though not all. In addition, the United States and other countries are now seeing increasing numbers of cases not associated with travel to Mexico. Finally, the risk of severe disease from novel H1N1 virus infection now appears to be less than originally thought.
CDC Recommendations
At this time, CDC has removed its recommendation that U.S. travelers avoid travel to Mexico.
CDC continues to recommend that travelers visiting Mexico take steps to protect themselves from getting novel H1N1 flu.

Last night, we went out to dinner and drove home along the Malecon. There were people out and about. The clubs were busy. And there is a feeling that this experiment in pandemic management may be over. As the swine flu disappears, we can only hope that the visitors and travelers reappear.