Pacific Islands

Whoa, already we’re destroying any reputation to which we may possibly aspire. Time and adventure march on, and we have left you in terrific suspense.


In mid-December our ship docks in the French islands of Tahiti and then New Caledonia. Volcanic in origin, these islands jut abruptly upwards at startling angles and in improbable shapes and spires, all swaddled in lush, verdant green. And it’s hot! We cover the islands as much as we can by foot and tiny rental car powered by chipmunks. Two young men are hitchhiking, so we pick them up and fold them into the back seat. When we greet them in English they look panic-stricken but quickly recover. They speak a little English, et nous parlons un peu de Francais, so we limp along fine.

We walk and sweat till we’re ready to drop and then return to the ship to catch some of the unloading/loading show. In Tahiti our ship is taking on 490 containers: 10 full and 480 empty! Similar in New Cal. Not too much is produced here. Pairs of dockworkers in bright yellow vests risk their lives clambering around, guiding the multi-storied containers into position by pushing, pulling, and gesturing to the crane operators. It’s a less streamlined process than at our other stops; they need two full days to unload and load. It’s well past dark by the time they finish and we chug away.

A few days later we cross the International Date Line, leaping effortlessly from Sunday straight to Tuesday. Now everything happens to us on a day you haven’t had yet!