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.

Tuesday 11th February

This morning we were up early to watch our arrival in Mamala Bay and Honolulu. As we had breakfast we watched as we passed diamond point and Waikiki Beach before squeezing into the narrow harbour entrance and inching our way in the tiny harbour past the Aloha Tower (built in 1930 to welcome the very first cruise ships to the island) before finally coming to rest in downtown Honolulu (Literally!). When we came back to our cabin and looked over the rail, we looked down on an eight lane highway and along the coastline it followed. Towering buildings overlooked us and it seemed that the ship had wedged itself so firmly downtown that we would never get out as there was no water to be seen. Passing pedestrians stared up at us staring down at them and I saw at least one cyclist nearly fall off his bike paying more attention to us than the road.

Our trip today (Pearl Harbour) is not exactly somewhere you go to enjoy, but as a part of our recent past, something that has to be seen and in Pearl Harbour, the Americans have done their fallen proud. Before taking a launch to the war grave that is the USS Arizona we watch a short film of footage taken in the immediate aftermath of the attack, accompanied by voice overs of survivors describing events first hand. Then with the vivid footage of the Arizona ablaze and in its’ death throes foremost in our minds, we are taken the short distance across the harbour to the memorial built over the sunken hull where we gaze down at the remains of this once mighty battleship, acutely aware that beneath our feet over nine hundred sailors still to this day remain at their posts in a ship that became their tomb. And as we watched fishes swim where men once walked we could see one or two droplets of oil still poignantly making their way to the surface accompanied by the odd tiny trail of bubbles as if it were only yesterday. They call these appropriately the tears of heroes.

There is really nothing more to add after the impact of Pearl Harbour Memorial in such an idyllic location.

Thursday 13th February

A welcome lie-in and a late breakfast today as we are back at sea for the start of the latest of our longer sea legs to Pago Pago (pronounced Pango Pango). Another day under the influence of that long lazy Pacific Ocean swell. Even with the strongest will power it is impossible to stop your eyelids closing after a few moments sitting down, which is a problem when you go to a talk in the theatre unless the speaker is good and the subject interesting which TV Producer Dale Templar’s was. She worked on the BBC’S series Planet Earth, Frozen Earth and Human Planet and she was talking about and showing examples of production secrets and techniques used in capturing some of the stunning images in these series. Later I went to a talk by Aldon Ferguson on the impact on the UK of the American GI during WWII, it was interesting to hear some of the comments in the audience from both the Brits and the Americans. That aspect of WWII obviously still stirs old emotions in people affected. His next talk is on the history of the Eagle Squadrons, volunteer Americans who came over to fight prior to America entering the war.

Wednesday 12th February

We sailed from Honolulu at midnight, too late for me to stay up to see how the captain extricated the ship from its wedged in position, as we wanted to be up early in anticipation of our arrival at Lahaina on the island of Maui a short 104 nautical miles from Honolulu, this is the place where all the whales congregate for the annual whale equivalent of a rut, except the fighting amongst the male whales is for the privilege of a single female, who it turns out makes the final choice in the end anyway. (It’s the same the world over!). It’s also here that the majority of the females’ calf so hopes were high as we got our breakfast. The first shades of grey were just beginning to show behind the mountains as we took a seat next to a window. The sea was flat calm with barely a ripple, ideal for whale watching as your eyes don’t get distracted by a breaking waves. We didn’t have to wait long. As daylight began to exert its influence we started to see spouts right across the bay shooting up like coordinated fountains you sometimes see in town centres. You could almost imagine the scene below as males sharply exhale whilst shadow boxing, ready for the days fighting. Within just a few minutes we began to see the odd long distinctive fin describe a lazy arc before disappearing again followed by that huge distinctive hump. So slowly were these manoeuvres executed that they created hardly a ripple, in fact they seem to leave a mirror surface in their wake. As the sun rose above the peninsular the activity across the bay started to intensify, it seemed that everywhere we looked there were whales. Flukes were now appearing and cracking down hard on the surface and across the Lido we could hear shouts from other tables as they spotted different whales. Some of the more aggressive males were slapping the surface repeatedly, seven, eight and more slaps, one after the other as if in a competition on who could make the biggest splash. Some were breaching in their attempts to impress. It was impossible to tear our eyes away even to eat breakfast in case we missed something. I found myself dipping my fingers in my tea or my egg whilst blindly groping for toast and still not glancing down to find it. Incredibly amongst all the action we spotted dolphins leaping as if caught up in all the excitement. It seemed at times that that we were watching a show put on for us while we had breakfast, rather than nature in the raw. Gradually as the sun climbed higher in the sky the initial frenzy of activity slowed, but despite that, wherever we looked we could still see an odd plume, tail or hump across the bay, we could see why this channel off the coast of Lahaina is considered one of the best places in the world to see Humpback whales. But we needed to go as we were now anchored and due ashore to explore the interior of Maui.

Our destination, The Lao Valley followed by the Maui Tropical Plantation. As we are taken ashore in the tender the approaching island landscape is reminiscent of the north banks of the Clyde, not at all what we were expecting, but then we were to find that the island Maui has many faces. We boarded our coach that would take us up into the Lao Valley and followed the coast road round the bay where our driver seemed more excited by the whales than we were. He yelled out every time he saw one, to such an extent I hoped he was at least keeping one eye on the road, remembering my attempts at finding toast at breakfast. After about an hour we turned inland and before long were approaching the mouth of the Lao Valley. Actually valley is not quite the name I would give it as it’s more of a gorge with near vertical sides towering high above us. Almost immediately the landscape changes from countryside that could be mistaken for somewhere in the UK to lush tropical Rain Forest. The climate is reason that the island has so many different landscapes. There are no extremes of heat, temperature is a steady 24°C (75°F) day and night, varying no more than a degree or so throughout the year and there are no monsoons. Even though we are close to the equator the cooling effect of the trade winds spare it from the extreme heat of the sun. Rainfall is an average of 70 inches a year on the island but in the Lao Valley this rises to over 400 inches as the moist Pacific air is funnelled into the wide mouth at its base, higher & higher and narrower & narrower to over three thousand feet where it meets the cooler air and releases its moisture creating a tropical micro climate for its entire length of the valley. Right at the bottom is a raging torrent of a river that has over the years carved this extremely deep gorge (and provides most of the islands drinking water). We drove as far up the valley as we could and when couldn’t drive any further we parked and got out. At this point we had the option of climbing the final hundred feet or so on foot, or descending down to the source of the river, we decided to climb the staircase. About 120 steps higher and we were as far up the valley as it was possible to get and as we looked up, still the valley sides towered above us thousands of feet shear cliff faces unbelievably covered in lush plants. How they managed to cling to these vertical surfaces let alone manage to thrive was unbelievable. Any way we tracked back down to the coach and as we had time, we decided to descend to the river as well. The temperature at this height was a very pleasant 23°C and as we were under trees which shielded us from the spectacular cliffs above us, we could easily be anywhere. (There will be photo’s if and when we can get them back to Paul). The journey back through the valley was just as spectacular as this time we were staring down through the gorge from above, but as always the trip back was faster. As we then made our way to the Maui tropical plantation we passed along a shallow valley in the lowlands of Lahaina where long horn cattle were grazing and the rolling hills on the other side looked just like the Penines, even down to the dry stone walls (though in this case they were built from chunks of lava). The plantation was a revelation, it seems anything will grow here, with constant temperature day and night, plenty of rainfall and rich volcanic soil providing all the nutrients. We took a tractor train around the plantation passing, pineapple groves (each plant grows, produces one pineapple, then dies) mango trees (a mango can be different things during its ripening process, vegetable early, fruit when riper and medicinal later), coconut (no explanation needed other than that the sterile liquid inside the nut has been used as a substitute for plasma in emergencies). Pecan nuts. Miniature bananas (again, one plant, one bunch & dies). Coffee, herbal teas and rows of every herb under the sun not mention conventional fruits like strawberries that grow all year round. Oh and I forgot to say, because of the fertility of the soil and the climate, crops are bumper and as a bonus everything is organic so their produce command a premium on world markets. We sampled their speciality mango and pecan ice cream, butter not milk based, and then set off back along the coast road and yes the whales were still there battling it out. Our driver pointed out people sitting on folding chairs on the cliffs between us and the sea. Their job? Counting whales! The various whale foundations around the world pay them to count whales! How anyone can realistically count whales is beyond me, but it seemed like a cushy job. We got back to the little town of Lahaina where the tenders landed and had a walk round, Carol shopping, me scrolling for WiFi whilst I waited, until she saw that look which said can we go for a pint. So off we went back towards the quay where we happened to find the oldest pub on the island, The Pioneer Inn built in 1901 and guess what? They sold IPA! OK so it was Keg IPA and served in iced glasses, but it was good. Carol joined the queue opposite for a tender, I stayed to the last tender.

Back on board getting ready for dinner we raised anchor and sailed slowly and gingerly out through the whales still playing/fighting in the bay. We watched cameras ready and we were lucky, the ship sailed straight through a pod and I got a photo of mother and calf right below us, not a very clear one as they were under the surface, what a shame that what you can see clearly through the water, does not translate that well on a photo. Hopefully I will get it downloaded and Paul will post it. That’s it for today folks, tune in again for more news later.