"We interrupt this program..."

“The president has been shot.”   Nonchalantly, that was the comment from my friend Anthony Santos as we were hanging out on the sun-drenched playground during recess that Friday morning at Linda Vista Elementary School in San Jose.   Oblivious that the world around us was at that very moment changing forever, I jokingly said, “Yeah, he shot himself in the foot.”    That reaction from a naive ten year old was based on the fact that my Republican parents were no fans of Kennedy, and the few comments I heard about him at home were less than glowing.

“No, really,” Anthony replied at just about the same time the school bell rang cutting short our ten minute recess to the groans of kids who were just starting to release the energy that naturally builds as you sit in your fifth grade class for fifty minutes.  

“Return to your classrooms right now, everyone,” exclaimed my teacher Mrs. Naomi Churchwell, who was stuck with yard duty for that recess.  She rounded us up and lead us down the open air corridor to our room.  At the same time, other bewildered teachers, some with cigarettes still dangling from their lips, flowed from the teachers’ lounge, hurriedly heading back to their respective classrooms as unknowing grade schoolers lined up to be let back in for what would be a lesson most would never forget.

Once we were corralled inside, Mrs. Churchwell asked for complete silence. She mirrored what Anthony had already told me.  “There is some news that President Kennedy has been shot, but I don’t know much more.”  She said the principal of Linda Vista Elementary, Mr. Pierce, was going to try to get some news on the radio and then pipe it through the ancient speakers that were hung in each classroom … those being the same speakers that in the five years that I had been at Linda Vista never made a sound.   On November 22, 1963, while the world changed, the speakers didn't.  They still didn’t work.  We sat in silence, waiting.  Then, Mrs. Stebbins stolled into our classroom.  Mrs. Stebbins was the tall self-assured bleached blond sixth grade teacher from the room next door.  Her classroom had a television set.

As she brushed by my desk, still reeking of the lingering smoke from her abbreviated cigarette break, she told Mrs. Churchwell that her fifth graders could come next door to join Mrs. Stebbins' sixth grade classroom.  Since the worthless speaker system didn’t work, we could watch what was happening on TV.  So, we lined up and marched next door.  We huddled around the oval-shaped black and white TV along with Mrs. Stebbins' sixth graders who weren’t all that welcoming to a bunch of fifth graders invading their space.  The picture was very poor.  We were in San Jose and the only 4 TV stations we got were 50 miles away in San Francisco.  But through the blurry fading signal, the message came through.

I don’t remember the exact moment it was confirmed that the President had died, my memory on that part perhaps skewed from seeing the replays in more recent years of Walter Cronkite’s emotional announcement:  “From Dallas, Texas, the flash, apparently official, President Kennedy died at 1:00PM, Central Standard Time, 2:00 Eastern Standard Time, some 38 minutes ago.” 

I do remember girls in the classroom were crying, and I remember wondering that if the President was killed, did that mean that we would be taken over by Russia (I was never really good in civics lessons). 

Because those speakers in the classroom did not work, Mr. Pierce, the principal, had to make the rounds from classroom to classroom announcing that we were to go home.  They were trying to get buses in for the students who rode the bus.  The rest of us could walk home or come to the office to call our parents.  Life was much more simple then.

Since Linda Vista Elementary was only three blocks from my home, biking was my transportation.  I recall, as I made the turn from Gordon Avenue onto Valley View Avenue, seeing about a dozen cars parked in front of our house.  My mom, being a member of the San Jose Women’s Club, had planned a luncheon/bridge party for that Friday.  As I entered our home, there were the fashionably outfitted ladies, sitting around, eating and chatting.  When my mom asked why my brother and I were home from school so early, we told her the school had closed because the President had been assassinated.  She told us she had heard that and wasn’t sure if she should have continued with her luncheon plans, but when all the ladies started showing up, there wasn’t much she could do.  The party went on.

Retreating to my room, I turned on the radio and discovered that my favorite Top 40 station, KLIV, was playing funeral music.  It was the same with most other stations.  The rest carried news reports.  My brother had a TV in his room (and since we had an antenna on the roof, unlike Linda Vista, the stations came in perfectly, at least perfectly for 1963), we sat around and watched TV for a while, but soon grew bored of that.   All that was on was news.  So, we went outside to play.  Just a couple of kids, 10 and 9 years old, not so sure what was going on.

My dad got home early that day as well, just about the time the ladies were leaving.  He owned his own office machines business in downtown San Jose and let the employees go home after hearing what had happened.  It was what people did back then.  He came outside and played basketball with us.  That night he barbecued, like he normally did, as my brother and I sat in the living room and played board games.

The next day, a rainy Saturday, my dad took my brother and me to Santa Cruz for a delivery he had to make for work.  It was a gloomy day. 

The storm had passed by Sunday morning and my brother and I were just about to walk out the front door and head to Sunday school at the church a block away. That's when my dad said hold on for a minute.  On TV they were about to walk Kennedy’s suspected assassin out of the jailhouse in Dallas and he thought we should see him.  Being fans of shoot ‘em up Westerns on TV,  along with The Three Stooges and All Star Wrestling on Channel 2, it was at times difficult for a little kid to discern reality from fiction.   When Lee Harvey Oswald was shot dead right there on live TV, I thought, wow, how cool, they got him!   My dad ushered us out of the house and told us it was time to go to church.

My grandparents lived next door to us, so on Monday we went to their house to watch the funeral.  I was sad, but also after a while kind of bored.  I don’t remember seeing the famous photo of John John saluting the casket until years later.  On Tuesday, school reopened, businesses reopened, life went on.

There have been other historically defining moments that are etched into our memories.  They are now conversation starters. “Where were you when …” (fill in the blank) Robert Kennedy was killed, the Space Shuttle exploded, the San Francisco earthquake struck, 9/11 happened, and so on.   For generations to come, there will be those moments.  For our generation, the baby boomers, it was the event 50 years ago, November 22, 1963, that was the first memorable defining moment in a lifetime of world changing events.

Listen to your mother

My 89 year old mom fortunately is still as sharp as a tack.  She drives, she reads two newspapers every day, watches 90 minutes of news every night, and goes out to lunch and movies with her friends.   I still chat with her almost every evening about a variety of topics and issues.  She is also a life-long very conservative Republican, a big supporter of the party from Eisenhower through Nixon, Reagan, and onto the Bushes. 

She has seen a lot of history, and that’s why what is happening now in this country is so disturbing to her … on several different levels.  First of all, she

is angry that a manufactured crisis on Capitol Hill has left the nation in a shambles, hurting it domestically, internationally, economically, and spiritually.  She has seen her investments, the money she lives on now, placed in jeopardy, creating great anxiety.   But perhaps more significant and more upsetting to her is witnessing the demise of her beloved GOP. As she said to me last night, “It is over for the Republican Party.”    

Like many, she is puzzled as to how a small faction of one political party could orchestrate a hijacking, not just of their own party, but of the American government, not for the betterment of the country but solely to advance a misguided agenda.  She wonders how Canadian-born Sen. Ted Cruz (who holds a dual citizenship with the US) could almost single-handedly guide the United States to the brink of financial collapse then claim, in defeat, that he would do it again.  All the while, the Speaker of the House yields his power to a minority within his own party, ignoring the calls of others to allow them to vote (as you normally would do in a democracy). 

She wonders when it all started to go wrong … when these supposedly grown men and women that we send to Washington lost sight of their role in America. She recalls the past when this didn’t happen and government functioned regardless of who was in power.  As she said, "Maybe I didn’t vote for the Democrats who were elected President but once they were in office, I respected them and realized their views and positions represented those of the majority of Americans.  That doesn’t happen anymore."

In the past, those who didn’t respect the office of the Presidency were from countries at war with the US. Now it is many our own people.  And they are people who, like those who espouse anti-American sentiment in other parts of the world, are doing what they can to undermine the democratic process, largely for their own advancement and the advancement of their ideological dogma.   

When I was a reporter, every once in a while a viewer with a gripe about the newscast would call the station and complain.  The news director at the time thought that since one viewer called in, it must represent the majority of the rest of the viewers who were just too lazy to pick up the phone and call in with their similar complaint.  One time, someone called and said the news was too negative and reported on too many bad things.  The news director’s neighbor told him the same thing.  Based on that, management  decided we would change directions and become the "good news” station. The station did promos proclaiming that no longer were we the bad news station, only good news.  Us reporters cringed, but more viewers called in saying they loved it … what a great idea.   The management was euphoric that they had finally tapped into the mindset of viewers and their decision was bolstered by more and more comments and calls.  The problem was, good news does not make for a newscast.  And over two years the majority of viewers (remember, those who don’t pick up the phone and call) had expressed their thoughts in another way.  They switched stations.  The ratings plummeted (and I do mean plummeted).  The geniuses who came up with the “good news” format were fired, and to this day, the ratings have never fully recovered.  What had gone wrong?  The same thing that is going wrong in Washington now.  The leaders listen to the vocal minority, gave them power, then let them drive the country (or the TV station) into the toilet.   Eventually they discover that these complainers and malcontents DO NOT represent the masses, but it’s too late.  The damage has been done.

I remember when News10 switched to the “good news” format.  My mom told me then that she started watching Channel 3 sometimes because she wasn’t getting the “news” from my station anymore.  She was the silent majority.  I hope it’s not too late in Washington now, and assuming it isn’t, perhaps they should start listening to my mother.  Ten years from now, they will thank her for her insight and wisdom.  Otherwise, American voters, like TV viewers, will hopefully look elsewhere for leadership.

"A shameful day for Washington." A Shameful day for America

It is one of those weeks when I am glad I am a Mexican resident.  The United States is no longer the country I know.  The tragedy in Boston on Monday; the irresponsible reporting on the investigation Wednesday by CNN, Fox News, and the AP.   Then there was the senate vote on gun legislation.  

This may offend some but the senate vote is actually the most troubling of all three.  That is not to diminish the severity or impact of the bombings in Boston.  The carnage was horrific, the loss unimaginable, and while the investigation is still underway, right now there is no indication that it was carried out by a group or organization, but rather one individual hell bent on creating chaos.    

While the scenario and method was different, the Boston attack was really quite similar in many ways to the Sandy Hook School shooting, the Aurora movie theater massacre, the Tucson Safeway shooting (though in each of those incidents, the death toll was much higher than the Boston attack).  It was random, senseless, and meant to hurt or kill innocent victims the perpetrator did not know.   And that’s why the senate vote was more troubling than the Boston bombings. 

In Boston, there was one individual (perhaps more) who we do not know who knowingly carried out a mission to kill.  In Washington, there were 46 individuals, people we do know, people we elected, who (despite the desires of the vast majority of Americans) voted to, in essence, enable those who want to wage mass killings to continue to do so.   There is more to it, though.  The people in Washington who voted against the wishes of 90% of Americans did so because they are afraid … afraid of the repercussions of the National Rifle Association.  They are afraid of losing the graft they receive from the NRA.  Afraid that the NRA will spend vast sums of money in the next election to support a challenger to those who voted for background checks.   

The President was angry, the parents and family of the 20 children and six adults murdered at Sandy Hook were upset.   Rep. Gabby Giffords, one of those critically injured at the Tucson shooting, is outraged and has penned a compelling op-ed piece for Thursday’s New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/18/opinion/a-senate-in-the-gun-lobbys-grip.html?_r=0).    Likewise America should be angry and outraged. 

Our elected leaders had an opportunity to better protect us, put in place reasonable safeguards that had been advocated by even the most conservative past Presidents.  Instead, 46 senators proved they are nothing more than corrupt marionettes, whose every movement is controlled by Wayne LaPierre and the other top brass at the NRA.  Before Wednesday, they feared the repercussion of the NRA.  Now, it is time for America to let them know they should fear the repercussions at the ballot box.  The President called it "A shameful day for Washington."  Really, it was a shameful day for America.

Don't touch that dial

Some of you may remember when long long ago in a vastly different era, we only got three or four TV stations (we also had to call the operator to make a long distance phone call, but that's another story).   Anyway, they were received via an antenna on the roof pointed toward the closest big city.  The pictures were black and white and really bad compared to today's standards.

 

Then came color and a few more stations.  And, then came cable.  Cable was first helpful in remote areas and usually did nothing more than redistributed TV signals from far away cities to homes that otherwise would have received nothing.

But, in 1975, HBO brought the next evolution, as the first non over-the-air programming service that was available only if you subscribed to cable.  Of course since then, hundreds of such providers make their programs available if you subscribe to cable or satellite.  They changed the game of television, dramatically reducing the number of viewers who would watch the traditional networks (ABC, CBS, NBC, and now Fox and the CW).

Now, a new player is emerging that likely will likely reduce the influence  of cable and satellite.  It has been stumbling along for a few years, but now, for the first time, it has become a viable viewing alternative.  It is online distribution of original programming.

Up until now, the quality of entertainment programs viewable only on the web has been, for the most part, elementary.  Sure there are some funny things to watch on YouTube, along with some interesting and instructional videos.  But it's not the type of thing where you would really want to invest much time into, especially if you're watching it on your 55 inch HDTV.   Most of the online material suitable for watching has been the redistribution of shows that have already been aired elsewhere, either on broadcast TV or cable. 

Last year, Hulu  began experimenting with original content for online to mixed reviews.  Two other companies, Deluxes and Crackle, are attempting to jump into the online waters as well.   

One online provider has suddenly and quickly jumped to the head of the pack. Netflix, which streams online for a monthly subscription of $7.99, has become the first to have a bonafide hit series, available only on the web. 

I had read about "House of Cards," a drama/comedy which features an impressive cast anchored by Kevin Spacey.   Now, I am hooked.  So, apparently are many others.   Three weeks ago, IMBd (which tracks movie/TV viewership) said its measuring service has determined that House of Cards is currently the most popular TV show in the world.   Unbridled by distribution roadblocks which limit the viewership of cable and satellite (and of course local TV signals), Netflix is making its series available beyond the borders.  And it is working.

The production is up to par with HBO, the writing is better than anything on broadcast TV, and there are no commercials (remember, Netflix is already a pay service, like HBO).  Furthermore (and this is where I wrongly figured it would be frustrating to watch) the picture quality is excellent.  Even here in Mexico where the Internet is notoriously slow and undependable, it is HD quality.  You forget you are watching something that is coming over an  old DSL phone line as compared to satellite.  

The challenge for the up and coming online providers may be simplifying the process by which you can watch their offerings.   As of now, it is not as basic as turning on the TV and changing channels.  But as newer models become available, integration of online content into TV tuners and video players is advancing.

For now, the threat of online providers taking over for local TV and cable/satellite stations is minimal.  Of course, that's what they said when cable TV first came about.  And when HBO came about (broadcasters saying "no one will pay to watch TV.")

And for those whose voices are increasingly heard lambasting the current cable/satellite model (both programming and cost), wouldn't it be nice to really be able to cut the proverbial cable cord once and for all, and rely instead on online content ... choosing what you want to watch when you want to watch it.  We better be careful what we wish for.

Living the dream while you can.

Chris was living a good life in Napa.  A nice family with four adult children and looking forward to an early retirement with her husband, Lou (who Chris calls "the love of my life"). That was four years ago.  It is also right before Lou learned he had pancreatic cancer.  Three years ago, Chris, who is now in her fifties, became a widow.

Terry was also enjoying life, living in a small community on Prince Edward Island in eastern Canada with his wife, Danielle.  Both are in their fifties. Then, Terry learned he had skin cancer.  Last year, surgeons had to remove his entire right ear, and he is in that critical period where he hopes the cancer doesn't return.

I met both Chris and Terry (and Danielle) on the just completed cruise, and in fact spent a lot of time with them.  They are fun people and real people who faced life changing events that have influenced their drive for living and prompted them to reset their priorities.  Chris wishes she and Lou would have taken the cruise before he died.   Terry is doing things now while he is still young enough and relatively healthy, with the future somewhat uncertain.

Suze Orman may not agree with them, but these are people who are now spending money as they realize the clock is ticking when it comes to completing their "bucket list."   It is a lesson that many learn only after it's too late or after a traumatic experience has reshaped their lives.   With that in mind, a few questions to ponder.  What is most important in your life?  What do you want to do that you are not doing?  What is preventing you from doing it?  What can you do to remove the obstacles and accomplish your goals? 

For those interested, a few little stories about what made it possible for me to 1) retire early, and 2) still do things that bring me pleasure.  

This cruise was one that we had been thinking about for two years.  We booked it ten months ago.   We estimated the cost of it and a while back, we began saving for it, setting aside $350 each month for the cruise fund.   To meet that goal, it meant cutting back in other areas (a few less dinners at expensive restaurants, a car trip last summer, etc).  They weren't sacrifices, just adjustments that had no impact at all on our day to day quality of life.  But the cruise ... well that had a huge impact on our outlook of life, an experience we will always remember.   Planning and saving and setting goals are all part of achieving what you want.

Also, those who know me know that I search for bargains.  I'm not cheap, and there is a difference.   For example, for work, I always wore the cotton Oxford Polo shirts from Ralph Lauren that laundered sharply and lasted forever (I still have some of them and wear them years later).  I had dozens of them, and people would comment, "How can you afford all those shirts, they are $80 each!"   I really couldn't.  But, at $40, I could afford them.  So, I stocked up whenever I was at a Polo Outlet Store.  Same quality shirt, but a bargain.  Shirts were just one example. 
 
The same with this cruise.   I booked through Celebrity which guaranteed the lowest price.  I also subscribe to a lot of travel websites which feature weekly discounts from travel wholesalers.   Every time I would get an offer for this cruise, I would call Celebrity, explain the offer, and they would match it.   Again, plan (set goals), save, and research.   By the time we left, they had cut our fare by $5000 and upgraded us.  So, I always try to be wise in what I do (or spend).   It's not hard.

Since retiring, I've received comments from people (mostly on Facebook) including  "Who died in your family and left you money?"  No one.   Or, "You must have made a ton of money at KXTV."   In reality, I made much less than most of my graduating class in college (but I really enjoyed my work more than most of them enjoyed theirs). I also often hear from people (again, especially comments on Facebook), "I want your life"  (I wonder how many people have told Chris and Terry that not knowing the circumstances).  They likely mean they want the parts of my life that are appealing to them.    The reality is you have your own life, you have the capability to make it grand, and do it before it is too late.  If you want to see that sunset on a Mexican beach, remove the obstacles and create the pathway that allows you to do it.


So how do you make it happen?  Well, here's what I have done throughout my life (going as far back as high school).  First (and this is very important), sit down with a pen and paper and write down what is most important to you (do not use a computer, write it out longhand.  It is more personal and meaningful).   Spend more time with the kids?   Go on an African safari?  Become more in touch with your spiritual being?   Seriously, write down what is most important to you, your goals.  Then, write down what you need to do, changes you must make in your life, to make it happen.   Look at it every single day, maybe several times a day.  Live by it.   Make it your mantra.  Make it a map for living.   As you progress, mark the milestones, the successes in reaching your goal.  And soon, before it's too late, you can live the life you want, instead of telling someone else you wish you were living their life, from retiring at 55, to watching a sunset on a Mexican beach, to setting sail on a 35 day cruise.   You can live the dream before it's too late.  And soon, your friends will tell you, "I want your life."  What's stopping you?

Correction:  In my last article, I wrote that Aussies call the hood of their car the boot.  I stand corrected.  The bonnet is the hood, the boot is the trunk.

It's raining, it's pouring, it must be Brisbane

"We're really sorry.  It isn't usually like this.  Normally, summer is nice here."   We heard it three times during our day in Brisbane.  The locals apologetic over the wet welcome to their cool city.     There was no escaping it, the skies opened up and dumped and dumped and dumped, and it lasted the entire time we were here.     But we faced it head on.

First, the lead up to Brisbane.  It was spectacular.  After a rainy night departing Cairns, a sunny day spotlighted the Australian "sunshine coast."  Rugged in parts like the Oregon coastline, this vacation region (where the climate is still tropical) is dotted with exclusive resorts, yachting clubs, and picturesque lighthouses.   It's the type of place I would have liked to have time to more deeply explore.

But the highlight had to be the unexpected dolphin show.   Along the portside of the ship, a group of dolphins (I counted ten) followed in the wake of the Solstice.   They kept up the ship (at about 20 knots speed) for about 30 minutes, jumping and diving.   I was on the balcony reading when they first made their appearance.  Though we have seen a lot of dolphins in Puerto Vallarta, this was like a Marine World show.  The pictures don't do it justice.

As for Bisbane, our plans to visit famous beaches on the nearby Gold Coast were dashed, so we went into the city center and found a vibrant metropolis built on the scenic Brisbane River.    Brisbane reminded me of a smaller, subtler version of Sydney.  But with 1.5 million residents (Australia's third largest city behind Sydney and Melbourne), it is still a large city and the center of commerce for New South Wales.  Its roots as a dumping ground for Australia's worst criminals have vanished.   Now it is a city mixing colonial architecture with steel and glass high rises (though it was so rainy and overcast  we could not see the tops of some of them).

The main thoroughfare in town (Elizabeth Street) is closed to traffic and is an impressive mall/shopping complex that stretches for four blocks.   Every major international store is found here, along with restaurants and banks.   You could have been in New York, San Francisco, or any other major city.

A short walk away, on the Brisbane River, winds Eagle Street.   A local who we stopped on the street recommended Eagle Street when we said we wanted to have lunch at one of Brisbane's many seafood restaurants.  Our goal was to have Australian Bug (we didn't know what it was but the the Aussies on the ship told us to try it).  George's Paragon Seafood Restaurant, perched over the river, was packed ... And it had barbecued bug on the menu.   So, in we went. We got our bug, which is best described as a local shellfish, larger than a crawdad and smaller than a lobster.   It was very good, but you'd be wise to order at least three bugs if you wanted to fill your stomach.

We were sorry that the weather was so bad here because Brisbane looked like a great city to get into.   And they have had a rough summer.   There was major flooding in this region last month, which followed record high temperatures.   As I write this, Australia is facing major weather problems on both coasts.  Port Hedland where we docked two weeks ago is being pounded with a category 4 cyclone (hurricane), and evacuations are underway; and yesterday, torrential rains and strong winds forced the closure of Sydney's huge airport.  

Australian oddities:   Though English is their language, at times it an be confusing, and not just because of the accent.  An Australian woman that we sat next to at the show a couple of nights ago had compiled a list 76 words that are different, yet mean the same thing.  Examples:  the hood of a car here is called a boot; and they don't say TV, it's telly.   And, though Burger King does exist here, it is known as Hungry Jack (and yes, it is the Australian home of The Whopper).

Now, our last sea day, and it is a real rough one.   The storm apparently churning up the ocean.  On Monday,  the 35 day cruise adventure comes to an end as we do our final docking in Sydney, and fly to Honolulu for a few days just to break up the marathon flight it otherwise would have been.   Once we get to Hawaii ... some final thoughts, observations, and answers to questions about how we could pull off this cruise.

The Great Barrier Reef ... and survival at sea

Seas so smooth you could water ski on them.   That's what greeted us as we "turned the corner" from the northern coast of Australia to the east coast of Australia, leaving the Indian Ocean and reentering the Pacific.  Not that jumping into the ocean here would be very refreshing.   The water temperature is very warm at 33C (91F) degrees. But it was a beautiful sail, passing by islands (and reefs) so small that they disappear under high tide, other islands so large they contain enough pure white sand to meet the world's glass making needs for the next 2000 years. A naturalist on board provided commentary during the sail.  Also on board ...  a pilot, specializing in traversing the tricky waters of the reefs, where at times the ocean depth allowed only 3 meters clearance between the bottom of the ship and the ocean floor.

Wednesday morning at 11:00 (three hours late because of the medical emergency on Monday), the behemoth Solstice threw anchor in Yorkey's Knob, Australia.  The ship was too big to dock at neighboring Cairns, the gateway to the Great Barrier Reef.   But for us, that didn't matter.  Our tour made plans for a pontoon boat to come out to the ship, pick us up, and transport us to the outer reefs, one of the so-called Seven Wonders of the World.

Though it had been 25+ years since my last visit to this astonishing part of the world, the images in my mind from those many years ago were still vivid.  I feel truly fortunate to have been able to visit this special spot twice in my lifetime.  Leaving the ship, I could see Cairns in the distance, high rises and resorts replacing the sleepy town I visited over a quarter century ago.

It took 90 minutes to reach the outer reef which beckons snorkelers and divers from all over the world.  The last time I was here, there were a couple of floating docks where day visitors could secure their boats and explore.   Now, the pontoon boats which carry hundreds of people each tie up to large covered platforms with kitchens, dining areas, changing rooms, and underwater observation stations.   The small floating docks have been replaced by landing pads for helicopters.   And glass bottom boats and semi-submarines are at the ready to collect more of your money for an intimate underwater experience with 50 other people. 

 

For us, it was just about snorkeling, so we threw on the gear (including full body lycra suits to protect us from the intense mid summer Australian sun and from jelly fish stings), and for more than an hour, we explored.  The pictures here don’t do it justice.   The fish were plentiful (including a foot long parrot fish which had the most amazing colors I have seen on a fish and who just wanted to hang out with the two of us …. seemingly following us for a while until he got bored).   The coral was also colorful and healthy.   Though more populated with visitors than before, the reef was every bit as majestic as I remember it.  

As I mentioned, the water temperature is very warm, more so when wearing the lycra body suits.   It is what made it so comfortable to be in the water for an extended period, compared to what we are used to on the west coast of the U.S.

 

Because, again, the Celebrity Solstice did such a poor job of getting passengers off the ship for the adventure, we were two hours late.   The operators of the reef excursion (who are licensed by the government and have to pay a hefty fee for the rights to transport people out there) agreed to lengthen our stay to make up for the initial delay.  That meant sailing back to the Solstice just before sunset.   For about half of the 90 minute voyage back to the mother ship, we were in darkness at sea … until the lightening storm hit.  Unbelievable rains, as strong as I have ever seen, pelted the boat.   We were inside when it started, but those outside were totally soaked.   With the sudden storm, lightening flashing, gale winds blowing, the sea turned nasty.  It took nearly 45 minutes for the boat to secure itself to the Solstice, the waves slamming the small boat against the side of the Solstice.  It was even worse for the people who had gone ashore in Cairns and were being transported back in small tenders (one tender actually lost part of its electrical system, and was bobbing in the ocean in darkness before finally making it back).  One passenger said it looked like a scene from The Titanic, a bit of an exaggeration, but I understood her sentiment.  Once we tried up, such as it was, it took another 30 minutes to evacuate everyone.   The high swells at times created a foot wide gap between our little boat and the ship (where if you misstepped, you would either fall into the ocean or be crushed as the ship and the small boat again slammed into each other). I will say it was extremely dangerous for people who weren’t in great physical shape to transfer.   For us, we were totally soaked by the time we got off, but safe.   All part of the adventure.

Now, two more days at sea, then Brisbane (where fortunately, we actually dock on land, and don’t need to use small boats to get from ship to shore).