Thursday 6th February

Don’t know what we’ve done to deserve this weather but when we opened the curtains this morning it was raining! They tell us that they haven’t had rain for over a year and today it is misty cold and raining. We were going to see the sea lions down on pier 39, but as we stared gloomily at the pouring rain during breakfast we changed our plans and decided to catch the hop on hop off bus first, hoping that the weather would clear enough to then see the sea lions. Off we set in the wet. The rain was that fine drenching heavy drizzle, you know the sort that really uplifts your spirits. The Scots have a good word for it ‘dreech’ (not sure if that’s how it’s spelt). Whatever! It certainly cheered up the locals. We waited in the rain for our bus with ten or so other hardy souls and when it arrived we clambered aboard and were promptly issued with red plastic ponchos and ushered upstairs on account of all the downstairs seats being fully and firmly occupied. I put mine on and everything went red, it was back to front the hood had covered my face. Carol said it was an improvement. Finally sorted we sat at the front and set off. I have to say I have been on better hop on hop off buses. The guy giving the commentary had a strong Mexican accent, in fact I’m sure I’ve heard him in one of those old cowboy films, you know the ones where they say “hey gringo, you wanna die?” Anyway his accent, coupled with the loud rattle in both ears of a wet polythene hood in the wind and the splatter of rain in the face made it; should we say, trying. We did sift some nuggets from the ore that poured forth from the crackly loudspeakers, not least the ‘iffa you lika da toor der is a bukeet forra da teeps wenna you get offa da bus – hava nice dayee! The guy got five bucks from me on account of the fierce cheeriness of his delivery and the fact that this was the lowest denomination note I had. We got off, drenched and cold, looking forward to a change of clothing a hot drink and a bite to eat before setting forth again to see the sealions. Turning the corner into the entrance to pier 35 we stopped dead in our tracks in horror. There was a huge (and I mean huge) multiple, queue of people with what seemed like twenty suitcases each, blocking our way. I approached one of the more sympathetic looking officials marshalling activities and said in a tone more hopeful than assertive “passengers returning on board?” I knew from the tone of the look on her face before she said a word that there was no way we were going to jump that queue. Sorry, she said apologetically, new passengers are having a hard enough time trying to get on board and are already short tempered without any extra provocation. So we turned around and headed for pier 39 and the sea lions. At least the sea lions were having a great time. Apparently no one knows why the sea lions have made this particular part of San Francisco their home. They used to congregate further up the quays but after the last earthquake they decided en mass to move to pier 39. All the businesses on pier 39 thought this was great as it brought in the tourists by the boatload and their businesses picked up as a result. However pier 39 also happened to be the home of the local yacht club who were not happy. I guess a one ton sea lion clambering aboard your posh yacht would not exactly impress the owner. Especially as they don’t exactly clamber, they are a bit like penguins when they come out of the water. They shoot out quite elegantly, but then sort of frump down like a huge polythene bag of soft fat, then fart and bark at the same time. Something had to be done! Well I don’t know about you, but I can imagine what would happen in the UK. These things are pests they need to be ‘encouraged’ to go away and leave us to enjoy ‘our’ environment. Like ASBO the swan on the river Cam, parcelled up and sent many miles away. But in the more enlightened California they looked at the one hundred and fifty one ton sea lions and then at the revenue they were returning and came up with the perfect solution. They built a brand new marina for the yacht club and awarded the sea lions permanent RENT FREE occupancy of half a dozen pontoons next to pier 39. The tourists flock down in droves (see pictures of bedraggled Carol), the yacht club has a brand new marina and the sea lions bark on. I wonder if there is an equivalent of Milton Chat a sort of San Francisco chat where barking residents can complain about barking sea lions.

Anyway I had fun talking to them and interpreting their replies.

After a brief walk around pier 39 (an amalgam of shops, outlets and entertainment, which, in the rain reminded me of an upmarket Blackpool pier) we wandered back to the ship and found to our great relief that the queue had diminished to a tail of the disgruntled few. We kept our council as they had been waiting a long time.

Back on board it seemed like the whole ship had changed, the predominant accent is now the antipodean twang with just a smattering of American and English. One or two very strange characters wandering around but no doubt we will get used to them in time as we did with the first ones. One thing we both noticed was the difference in drivers. Our first driver Captain Wells was a smooth and sophisticated driver, we sort of slipped in and out of berths with barely felt moves, like you would imagine a Rolls Royce would enter and leave a parking bay. With Captain Clark we have a different breed. He welcomed us aboard from the bridge and told us that we were about to depart San Francisco and moments later we felt engine vibration that we had not felt before, glasses on the shelf began to ring together like a fire bell. He reversed out at speed did a handbrake turn and we were off towards the Golden Gate bridge at a pace. Go Alistair go! Whilst not exactly a Ferrari exit it was certainly more a Bentley than a Rolls Royce.

New guests at dinner two ladies from Melbourne who are glad to get away from the 42°C heat and couple from Newcastle (that’s Under Lyme, not Upon Tyne) glad to get away from the rain. The third couple did not show up, so looks like they were either too late or too knackered, we shall see tomorrow.

Any way that’s about it for today folks, see you same time same place tomorrow.

Wednesday 5th February

Woke to a very gloomy and cold San Francisco, (first time I’ve seen my own breath on this voyage). Showered and breakfasted we join our immigration queue on board promptly at 6.45, one hour later we are processed. By this time the queue must have stretched twice round the ship. Once more the rule is, no one gets off until everyone is processed. Not sure what the border officials were looking for as some passengers were questioned quite thoroughly, a little old lady next to me was asked what she intended to do in San Francisco where was she planning to go? etc. She got quite flustered as she had no firm plans. Whilst I (a most suspicious looking character) was waved through with just a stamp on my passport. It could be that they have had inside information that the next wave of terrorism will be headed up by little grey haired old ladies on cruise ships. Any way our tour got off OK as we were double checked and allowed off the ship contrary to regulations.

Then to our next anomaly. Our tour was to Alcatraz followed by a visit to a little town called Sausalito. We departed our quay (pier number 35) boarded our coach driven by Ron and hosted by Virginia who informed us that we would be driving straight to the ferry for Alcatraz we turned right, down passed pier 39, then left upwards town, then left again back towards the seafront, then left again along the sea front and pulled up at pier number 33 (each pier number is odd, so this pier is immediately adjacent to ours, some 30 yards. We had driven a mile and a half to get thirty yards back along the road.) A walk that took us two and a half minutes when we did it later in the day. No one said anything but some very strange looks were exchanged.

We hopped on the ferry to Alcatraz and almost immediately set off for the island. We went on to the upper deck for a better view and then wished we hadn’t, the wind off the sea was bitingly cold even though the day was bright. We arrived at Alcatraz frozen solid, but after climbing to the top of the rock we were sufficiently thawed out to enjoy the visit. Everything everyone had told us about Alcatraz was true, it really is a visit worth doing. The story on the personal electronic guide, together with the sound effects really takes you inside the prison as it would have been. Once or twice I removed my headset just to check it was the soundtrack I was listening to. I just wish that we had had more time, but this was one visit we would definitely do again. The narrative by ex-convicts who had spent time there was especially compelling. Our visit over the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito afterwards was a bit of an anti-climax because although it is an attractive town, it lay right in the path of the onshore wind which if anything got colder as the day progressed. But, that’s not the towns fault and again it is somewhere we would visit again but on a warmer day. On the way back we toured the highlights of San Francisco, the iconic steep hills and trams, the endless facts and stories that were impossible to remember but were no less interesting for all that. I’m sure that they will find their way to the surface again one Friday night in the Jolly Brewers. (I can hear the groans from here).

Dinner was livelier than normal as it was the last of the cruise for four of the table, tomorrow will see us with a brand new set of dinner guests. So many passengers are disembarking that it sometime seems that no one is staying. Even the captain is going, our new captain taking over tomorrow will be Alistair Clark. Our steward Larlet is going home to the Philippines for two months leave, during which he is getting married, he is then joining Queen Mary 2. All the very best to you and your future wife Larlet, we hope to see you again on board a Cunard.