Awoke before dawn the last two days: rested, rocked and relaxed from the creaking comfort of a good night’s sleep at sea. Since I had an early morning lecture to prepare for yesterday, decided to shower and shave early in the large gym showers top-side. I was early indeed, as it was not yet open. 5:50am, and the eyelids of Dawn were just flickering open to port and astern. Then, they drifted closed again like someone not quite ready to start the day, pulling a slim sheet of clouds back over her head. I headed for the sound of a crewman just aft – carrying coffee he was, hurray! Caffeine secured, I strolled around the empty, pre-sunrise decks. Today, similar routine save Dawn was even more recalcitrant to rise: the hazy veneer under which she hid yesterday today replaced by a thick blanket of fog. Somewhere to Starboard: Hawai’i. We dock at 10am ( officially, which means we’ll pull up sometime around 8am I’d say). An hour away, and still nothing in sight. A lowering day it is indeed: moist, melancholic and murky – a perfect day at sea.
It’s been an unusually easy crossing, save for the typical first-day out finding of sea legs, smooth indeed. My first Pacific cruise in 1998 was quite something else: rocky and producing of an epic case of sea-sickness ( one of three I still recall with a shudder). The seas were high, rugged and rolling constantly. When we finally arrived off of Diamond Head, I went to the stern and tossed off a rock that a friend had given me in Los Angeles to “return” to Hawai’in waters: a volcanic pebble from the sides of Mount Pele – Fire Goddess and Protector of the Islands. My friend Kirk saw me in this ritual and turned white with horror. “Dear God, no wonder we had such a rough crossing,” he said. “One never steals a piece of Pele, much less goes to sea with Her. Get it off the ship now!” And so, with a nod to the gods Pele was returned to her native element. The island-born Kirk wasn’t usually the superstitious type, but in this he was quite serious. “Your friend must have known what he had done and wanted you to risk the punishment,” Kirk explained. “A piece of Pele onboard,” he muttered as he walked away shaking his head. “Dear me.”
Both our “LinerLore” lectures went quite well – the second better attended than the first so I guess the word-of-mouth has been good. Some of the passengers are already requesting a fourth and we haven’t even delivered the third! Who ever thought that at age six, watching Barbara Stanwyck in a lifeboat leaving behind husband Clifton Webb on the deck of the late-show “Titanic” that a life-long hobby would be born. So, thanks Barbara and Clifton: in many ways, because of that late-night viewing with my mother I am here today. The Christmas following, my mother gifted me with Walter Lord’s “A Night to Remember” in my stocking – to this day, the best book ever written about Titanic. At last count, I had consumed her pages seven times straight through ( and referenced various sections countless times other).
7:10am – the moody mantle of mist is beginning to brighten and lift. Time to greet the day and Pele – this time, theft free.
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