New Readers

This blog runs backwards. i.e the most recent post is at the top. Navigate to the historical entries with the prompts on the right hand menu. we began this journey in October 2005.

Further reading!

There is a blog of our journey from Melbourne to Singapore at http://baltrumtrader.blogspot.com
and from Singapore to Barcelona at
http://rialtobridge.blogspot.com

View from our cabin

So what did we think of it

So how was it overall? What’s hot and what’s not?

Good:

The accommodation was excellent. Spacious, comfortable, properly equipped, cleaned daily. Decent en-suite shower room. The food was excellent. Well cooked, well presented, imaginative menus, lots of it and wine on the table. The crew were friendly and courteous to a fault. We had virtually unlimited access to all areas of the ship unless safety issues were involved [pilot on the bridge; rough weather limiting deck access; engine room etc] and were made welcome in all areas at any time of day or night. The public areas were clean and tidy.

A leisurely paced journey, staying away from hateful airport departure lounges and a detailed view and partial understanding of the world of freighter ships.

Middling:

Constant air conditioning and no [practical] way to open a window. We were warned before purchasing our tickets that the view from our cabin may be obstructed. I believe that in anything like an efficiently run container ship, the view will always be obstructed. Certainly we had no exterior view for the majority of the voyage, and that we did have was only partial. This will of course vary from ship to ship and the state of container trade. We would have liked the DVD player in the passenger’s salon to have worked before Tahiti, as effectively there was no entertainment to supplement the books and tapestries we had brought. The ‘gym’ was hopeless. Table tennis is difficult when the boat is moving a lot, and the bicycle and rowing machine were so cranky we regarded them as useless.

Bad:

Information from the travel agents was woeful and arrived like drawing teeth. This was not restricted to the travel agent we used in Sydney although two parties on this voyage had booked through the same person at the same agency. Our French co-passengers had used an agency in Paris and felt similarly under-informed. In our case, the Sydney agency were unable to answer basic questions. For reasons of professional propriety [?] CMA CGM felt unable to answer our direct questions and suggested that our questions be routed though our travel agent. We did this, and much of the information that returned was wrong – some of it simply ignorant. The agent said email was not available to passengers; we were allowed unlimited access to email, subject to a small extra payment based on quantity of use which we felt was modest; the ship board shop is not like an ordinary shop and only opens when the captain feels like it.

Perhaps most importantly, even though we knew that as ‘self-loading cargo’ our interests came very low down on the ship’s priorities we all felt seriously under informed about the stops the ship would make. The timetable stated that we would be calling at Norfolk, Virginia between 21st and 22nd October. We berthed [able to go onshore] around 2000 and we sailed at around 0200. The dates were correct, but effectively we were unable to go onshore. The same thing happened in Manzanillo. This cut two out of eight stops that we had expected to be able to go ashore.

Sydney and Melbourne

Saturday 19th November 2005

A quiet day reading and sitting up on deck. Only a few days to go to Melbourne. Our fellow passenger Heide is getting excited about our arrival in Sydney on Monday. She’s been away from Australia for over a year visiting relatives in Germany. We are also beginning to think of the coming winter (??) summer (??) in Melbourne and around.

Utrillo cinema club watched Howard Hawke an amusing caper movie.

Sunday 20th November 2005

The last Sunday aboard for us! All passengers were invited to aperitifs with the Commandant and officers, and then to eat with them at their table. The chef, as usual put on a stunning feast. Parma ham and melon, feiulleté d’escargots, magret de canard avec sauce caramel, cheese (of course), and gateau norvégienne flambéed with Grand Marnier (baked Alaska). All washed down with liberal amounts of wine. A good lunch was had by all.

Then out on deck to sit in semi-shade and try to finish the books we are reading.

We arrived in Sydney around midnight, but none of the passengers waited up to watch as large ships now dock in Botany Bay, and do not come in past the splendour of Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House. We’ll be able to get on shore quite early tomorrow.

Monday 21st November 2005

Awoke to find the ship berthed in Botany Bay. Heide was all packed up and ready to be collected from the ship to go home to Firefly. Immigration easy – though the officer was embarrassed to find that my birth place, Douglas, was in the Isle of Man and not Scotland as he had thought.

We headed off in taxis to the Convention Centre in Darling Harbour as it will make a good place to meet up to get taxis back in the evening.

The local tourist office has a wealth of useful brochures, one of which gives routes for walking tours all round the harbour. It suggests that a fit person can do the whole thing in 8 – 10 hours but with no stops for the view or meals! The route is broken down into bite size chunks, which we liked. We started at Darling harbour which has been beautifully created as a leisure area very close to the city centre. We wandered on through the Rocks area up to the wharves at Circular Quay. On the way we passed lots of little precincts with shops and cafes, including Nurse’s precinct which has a particularly interesting antique jewellery shop. I managed to avoid spending any money there this time, but I may go back!!

At Circular Quay we got a ferry over to Manly, a very popular area of Sydney with lots of lovely shops and great beaches. We had thought of taking the tour boat, but were advised [well we think] by the tourist office to take the public ferry instead. Cheaper. Managed to sit outside on the ferry, and had excellent views of the Harbour bridge and the Opera House. The main beach at Manly has fantastic surf and lots of people were in the sea. There are volley ball courts along the beach with lots of rippling muscles on display. Many people’s transport along the esplanade was by roller blades and skateboards, often at breakneck speed. There’s also a much quieter beach with safe bathing for children just at the side of the ferry terminal.

The main road (a pedestrian precinct) from the wharf across to the beach is full of shops and restaurants. We found an Internet Café and updated the blog, and also bought an Australian sim card for the mobile. The internet café had loads of small ads for campervans, many of which are only about $3500 AU, about £1500. Makes us think whether we might buy one for our time in Oz.

We had lunch at a small Thai café – too small and informal to call a restaurant The food was excellent. We had a bottle of good Australian white wine and the whole bill came to $37, about £15. Not bad for a delicious meal people-watching on a beautiful promenade overlooking the beach.

We were heartily amused by some of the unfortunate language effects caused by the name of the town; ‘Manly refuse’, ‘Manly bus’, ‘Manly cleaning services’ promote some interesting images in the mind.

We arrived back at the wharf with time to sit in the Bavarian Beer Bar before getting a ferry back to the heart of Sydney. Again, great views of the main sights, but the other way round. Kit was sitting next to an old Australian who turned out to be a bit of a character. We walked back through the main business district to meet Jeanine, Raymond and Luc (the cadet) at Darling Harbour and get taxis back to the ship.

We’re not allowed to walk around Sydney docks – unlike any others we’ve visited. We pressed the required button at the gate and waited, but the courtesy bus took a while to arrive. We went straight up for dinner, but as it was now 7.15, Aurel had thought we were not coming back and cleared our starters away! Sudden scuffles and they reappeared. The main course was excellent fresh liver in delicious gravy. All meat, vegetables and fruit and other foodstuffs used while the ship is in Australian waters have to be bought in Australia. The ship’s own supplies must be under lock and key all the time we are in Australian waters. It is an offence to take any food items into Australia, though Heide was allowed to take her jar of Vegemite (bought in New Zealand) in with her! The regulations are very strict, and officially prohibit the import of any animal products including wool used in crafts. Liz didn’t declare her tapestry! Happily we didn’t have any soil on our shoes or other animal products or open food containers.

Tuesday 22nd November 2005

Following a little joshing, the captain has agreed that the Utrillo will depart at the convenience of the passengers. This means that today we can have a leisurely breakfast and then go up to the bridge to supervise the departure. And so it proves. Departure scheduled for 0900 and we’re in the open sea by 0920. I guess the boys know how to do this and will get along just fine without our supervision. We think that we’ll leave the boat tomorrow afternoon and go to the rented apartment. Its nice to think about an environment that isn’t constantly noisy – engine ventilation, air conditioning [efficient but noisy] and stable.

I guess we’ll have to drink our farewell champagne this afternoon whilst the depleted cinema club can watch a film in French without English sub titles. Pas mal. Les Choristes – charming film. However we discover that the ship is not expected into Melbourne until 1700 tomorrow and won’t be leaving until 2200 on Thursday. This suits us very well as it means we can have two more of chef’s wonders, and can pack at leisure on Thursday morning, and catch a taxi after lunch. Much more civilised. It also means the champagne farewell to Raymond and Jeanine will take place on Wednesday evening.

Wednesday 23rd November2005

Melbourne is another great city to approach by sea. We can see miles of beaches that seem to be fairly accessible to the city. I guess most of it is not commutable, but as we’re not commuters we might well drive a little further, against the rush hour to find an empty beach. We’ll se, but it looks hopeful.

It’s a long and convoluted approach. The pilot joins us around 1300 and we make a long sweeping turn between two headlands. As we’re not really welcome on the bridge while the pilot’s aboard, we can’t see the charts. It seems we must be almost there, but then everyone sits down and starts reading papers. We steam at full speed for another hour across the bay. It must be a critical first turn to have the pilot aboard, and there was a lot of taking of reciprocal bearings. As we approach the city we start a hard turn to the right. Have we changed direction, back to Sydney? Apparently an outbound ship has not cleared the channel, and we have to delay ourselves while they exit, and a circle will do it. After a slow circle, we enter the channel. Its really very narrow, and we can understand why we had to wait until it emptied. The pilot and the captain turned the boat around and we backed into our berth.

The container handling is impressive. Lots of container ‘shepherds’ rushing about, lorries queuing to be unloaded, containers into and out of the ‘farm’. Raymond described it well as an ants nest. Everyone knows where they are going – its like a ballet.

Champagne in the passenger’s salon. Raymond brings Crème de Cassis [never Sirop which is sweeter and useful for children’s drinks] and so we have Kir Royale. Raymond and Jeanine are very modest drinkers, and so Liz and I drink the lion’s share. Consequently our language skills improve – or at least we think they do. After dinner we’re all a little tired, so no movies and early to bed.

Thursday 24th November 2005
Touchdown in Melbourne.

The container handling starts in the middle of the night as usual, but we’ve become used to it. After breakfast we use our new local phone to call the terminal bus for Raymond and Jeanine and also a taxi to meet them at the gate. We’ll be doing the same later. Liz is packing, and I’m writing this - the last entry in this section of the diary. Tips for Aurel and Chef, close the email account, leave money for a couple of bottles of wine on the officer’s lunch table. Small chores, but hopefully leaving happy folk behind us. You never know when we’ll meet again. Aurel’s giving up the sea, and is going to start a B&B in Romania. Next year maybe…….

Depart Sydney view

Melbourne busy containers

Melbourne and narrow channel

Narrow channel into Melbourne

Manly ferry

Liz approaches Melbourne 2

Sydney suburbs from Harbour

Liz and Sydney Harbour Bridge

Passengers and officers

Chef flambees

Another visitor leaving Melbourne

New Caledonia - Noumea

15th and 16th November 2005

At sea. Eating and drinking and regulating our days by meal times, times to visit the bridge and see that the boys are doing OK – that sort of thing. Looking forward to Noumea.

17th November 2005.

We are getting slightly ahead of our schedule and our now likely to take our pilot around 0500. There is talk of a strike in the port, so no-one really knows what is going to happen. We rise early – not so difficult as the clocks keep going back an hour and we tend to wake early. As dawn breaks, we take the pilot and approach New Caledonia’s port and capital of Noumea.

The first thing you can see as you get nearer is smoke from the four chimneys of the nickel plant – the country’s largest industry. The mine is the world’s largest open mine and it produces staggering amounts of raw nickel, and exports unrefined and refined nickel. The smoke and fumes blanket the town, which must cause conflicts with the country’s second largest industry of tourism..

There seems to be no evidence of strike, and the docks are full of workers waiting to unload our containers and load others. Still no-one is sure how long we’ll be in port. A little frustrating as the original schedule suggests that we will have a day and a half here. If this is to be the case, we’ll rent a car and head off somewhere, find a B&B and return the next morning. But the best we’re told is to telephone the ship at 1800 and we’ll be given an updated time of departure.

Into town, money from the machine, check emails and wonder about the shape of the day. We quickly decide that Noumea is a small and fairly charmless town. I’m sure the inhabitants like it, but I wouldn’t cross the world for it. Lots of souvenir shops and hi-fi sales rooms. The central ‘parky-bit’ is laid out for a festival. Unusually, the stalls are not trying to sell anything, but are informative – scouts, holiday villages for the under-privileged, red cross first aid etc. Much nicer than the usual sort of thing. A quick visit to the tourist office informs us that there are no interesting [to us] busses as the longer distance ones are only one a day in each direction. With a possible departure tonight, we can’t take the risk. The town’s hop on – hop off tourist bus is only FCP1000 each but we find a cheap car hire place that’s only FCP 4000 for the day, so off we go in an air conditioned Renault.

Everything is angled towards the tourists, but its not oppressive. A cool drink at a thatched beach bar and a little more aimless driving to try and get a taste of the island. We’re having a good time, but become aware – as elsewhere in France – that around 1150 the traffic speeds up with workers going home for lunch, and those who can’t make it home are sitting under trees with their sandwiches. Clearly we need to act swiftly if we are not to miss our lunch. After recent routine this is unthinkable!

The map that came with the car is – of course – sketchy. Still, Liz does a grand job and suggests a road to turn off as it looks promising. Down we go, and whilst not exactly promising, we do find a rather abandoned looking hotel. Down the dusty drive and the hotel itself also looks abandoned. A couple of the beach-side chalets have washing outside. Hotel workers or long stay guests? Wandering through the abandoned and open to the breeze reception, we are greeted by a charming young woman who asks us if we want lunch. The whole place looks so seedy we think – without discussion – that we’ll have an aperitif and then go and find somewhere else.

As we sit on the terrace, we change our minds. Old moody French songs are playing, the wind sighs gently though lots of open windows, and a glance at the menu of the day board tempts us. So, Liz orders a Pastis, but as I’m driving, I’ll wait for the wine. Our charming waitress explains that the owner is unexpectedly absent and she’s not familiar with aperitifs. Liz explains that she wants it in a glass with ice and enough room to add water. Back comes a Ricard that would fell two of us.

The food is fabulous. Warm goat’s cheese salad, followed by fish and crème brǔlee. The setting is even better. Our waitress doesn’t know how to open a bottle of wine, so my experience comes in handy! This is real tropical paradise stuff. A little faded is now very desirable as we can imagine Bogart coming though the door – or should that be Alain Delon. The hotel has stern notices that the pool is only for guests at the hotel, and we discover that having eaten there, we count as guests. Whoopee as that means we’re staying and I can have a Calvados before driving many hours later. It will have to be many hours as the size of the drink makes ship cocktails seem mean, and British pub measures wouldn’t even wet glasses that size.

So out to the pool. But first into the sea. I’ve checked, its lukewarm, so in we go. It certainly is warm, but its full of stones and after swimming around for a while in fairly shallow water, the pool seems a better option. There’s coral in the sea and both of us get badly scratched by merely brushing against the wretched stuff. It wasn’t even the pretty coral. The pool is very desirable, and chatting to another user, it seems that many people come for the winter. July in France and December in New Caledonia. I can certainly see the attraction in that.

Happily our work-everywhere phone has decided to work here, so we phone the boat and discover that departure is 1200 tomorrow. Liz goes to see if we can rent a room. Sadly, its fully booked – as are all the hotels nearby.

We could chase around and find somewhere no doubt, but we already have a comfortable room and board and unless we think we’ll find somewhere better, we might as well go back. Taking a very roundabout route to see a little more of the island. Huge green mountains, windy roads and then suddenly a small French housing estate in the middle of nowhere. These Territoires Outre Mer are sometimes very peculiar. Tropical island with French policemen. A bit like the Spanish bobbies in Gibraltar. Notices in phone booths in French, and local dialling to France on the other side of the world.

Return the car, and walk back through the exhibition again. Past the cable laying ship that’s here, and in though the dock gates for a cold supper.

18th November 2005

It’s a good job we didn’t stay away as the boat is now scheduled to leave at 1100 and we have to be back at 1000 – or earlier to be safe. Just time to go to the craft workshops oddly located at the dock gates. Sadly, despite signs promising them to be open, they’re closed. We don’t much fancy the computer exhibition, and so take a decent cup of coffee [the coffee on the boat is not to my taste] and back on board.

It’s at times like this you can see why we need a pilot. Leaving to the south west means we have to pass through the reefs. New Caledonia is in the largest lagoon in the world, we are informed by our 1st Officer, whose wife and family live here. I suppose he should know. Anyway, we have to pass though areas that look very treacherous with only tiny buoys to mark the channel.

Leaving early means that we’re likely to arrive in Sydney early which is causing one of our fellow passengers, Heide, some concern. She’s getting off in Sydney and has made pick up arrangements according to the existing schedule. It may affect us also, as we have booked our accommodation in Melbourne according to the same schedule. Well, we will or we won’t. We’ve become quite laid back about it.

The Utrillo cinema club watches Once Upon a Time in the West. I think it must have been the director’s cut as it was nearly three hours long. Very pretty, but too long for the plot, and for our bedtime.

Off to sea again.

Auckland

Monday 14th November 2005

We began to approach Auckland at about 10.30 am. The pilot came on board about 11.00 and we sailed between the many small islands in the channel leading to the city. The skyline of Auckland is very modern and is dominated by the Sky Tower, the tallest building in the Southern hemisphere (taller than the Eiffel Tower). It is 328 metres tall and is a slim and elegant design.

The port is very close to the city and we got excellent views as the tugs gently reversed us into place at our berth. Alongside by just after noon. This was timed just right to let us have lunch on board while the immigration and customs people did their thing. We told the chef we’d be eating in town this evening. We may go to the Sky Tower revolving restaurant – maybe a bit touristy but could be an experience!

As the city is so close to the port we all decided to walk in. The weather as we approached in the bay was changeable, and we wisely took our waterproofs with us. Good job too!! Almost as soon as we were outside the port gates the heavens opened, and we had an amazing shower. The walk into the centre of the city took about 15 minutes, through generally much more welcoming surroundings than many port areas. It doesn’t look as if we’ll need to get a taxi back tonight – the area looks quite safe.

We saw a large supermarket just on the edge of town. It’s open late, so we decided we’d pop in to buy a couple of things on our way back later.
We were using the Sky Tower as a guide as to which way to walk into the city, but it is very difficult to see it once you get near. We stopped for a glass of wine – New Zealand, of course – in a wine bar in Vulcan Lane. It was rather a trendy one and we were the oldest customers by many years. Discovered here that contrary to advice given to us they do not accept Australian dollars in New Zealand, so we had to nip down the road to a cash machine to get some money.
We wandered around the central area, along Queen Street, the main thoroughfare. Lots of interesting shops and restaurants. There’s a high proportion of Chinese, Korean and other Oriental residents in the city and along this area are dotted food halls with a selection of Oriental restaurants inside. Even though we’d just had lunch some of the aromas were devastating and it took a good deal of willpower to walk on by.

We took the free local bus which does a circle round the centre to help us get our bearings. We stayed on for a whole circuit and saw the beautiful gardens of the campus of The University of Auckland, many lovely houses – often reminiscent of faded gentility in UK seaside resorts such as Eastbourne, a plethora of shops including, as you’d expect all the well-known high street names, but also many I’ve never seen before. Then we walked down towards the ferry port to take a look at the famous Ice Bar, next to Lenin’s Bar. This is, as I’m sure you can imagine from the name a haven for the vodka drinkers of the city. The Ice Bar is made totally of ice, is full of ice sculptures, and the drinks are served in glasses made of ice. During the day it’s interesting, but it comes to life in the dark when the sculptures are lit by multi-coloured lights. Entrance to the bar includes the loan of a parka with furry hood and a drink from the wide selection of vodkas. As it was daylight we didn’t go in, but sat outside Lenin’s Bar for a short while in the sunshine.

Then off on a bus, $1.50 each, to Parnell, a rather swish inner suburb of the city. It has a long main street stretching up the hill, and is full of interesting galleries, lots of restaurants, including several Indian ones with delicious-sounding menus, plus some very expensive shops. Luckily most of the things I fancied buying (a dining table, a small chandelier etc) were too large to get up the gangplank of the ship so I didn’t buy!! We were in Parnell towards the end of the business day and many of the shops were closing. Also the weather turned nasty again and we had to shelter from the rain. So we got another bus back into the centre. Having looked at a map later, we could probably have walked back.

We decided to go and look at the Sky Tower, and maybe even eat there. The tower is approached from the main street of the city. The cost to go up is $18 per person and as this is included in a meal taken in the revolving restaurant we decided to splash out. The whole meal including a bottle of New Zealand sparkling wine was $139 (about £55) including entrance to the observation decks (cheaper than a similar experience in the UK), and the food was delicious. The views were stunning. We were able to see our ship in the distance. Also we got fabulous views of the Auckland Bridge and the surrounding countryside. During our meal there was the most tremendous rain storm with black skies and rain lashing on the windows of the restaurant.
The Sky Tower is 328 metres tall and you go up in a glass lift at breakneck speed – 40 seconds from floor level to the top. There is a glass panel in the floor of the lift so you can look down the lift shaft – scary! The restaurant 190 metres up the tower, revolves about one full circle each hour. You can see two strong wires running down to the ground from the top of the tower. These are the guide ropes for the bungee jump of 192 metres. Jumpers plummet for about 16 seconds at about 75kph. Above the observation decks the foolhardy can take a guided walk even higher up the tower – the Vertigo Climb which takes you up to 270 metres – needless to say we didn’t do this. From the observation deck, on a clear day, you can see 82 kilometres (51 miles), and can spot about 50 volcanoes in the surrounding area. The tower is built to withstand winds of 200 kph – expected about once every 1000 years! If such a wind were to happen the tower would sway about half a metre in each direction – almost imperceptible.

The Sky Tower from the Utrillo

We watched the darkness fall, and lights making a beautiful vista from the restaurant. Then a walk back to the ship via the supermarket where we picked up a couple of bottles of New Zealand wine to enjoy before our next stop in Noumea in a few days time. The loading was still going on as we arrived back at 10.30pm and carried on for much of the night. We left Auckland in fine sunny weather at about 6am the next day.

Tahiti to Auckland

Wednesday 9th November 2005
Chef plays a blinder

At sea again for a few days. We expect to arrive in New Zealand on the 14th November (Monday). However, before then we pass the international date line and we think we miss either Friday or Saturday. Heaven forbid that we should miss Sunday as this is the day that the chef uses to demonstrate his most extravagant culinary surprises – and I would especially miss the pains au chocolat!

A fairly calm morning. A short foray round the deck, but legs rather tired after yesterday, so the first highlight of the day was lunch. Chef had prepared delicious cabbage salads, followed by chicken cooked beautifully with vegetables and potatoes oven baked and dusted in Parmesan cheese. The fruit today was straight from Tahiti – lychees fresh from the market – delicious. The afternoon saw the sea getting a bit rougher, but it was pleasant out on deck and we sat and read until shortly before dinner. We were also able to sit in the passenger lounge listening to music. The cadet had managed to buy a DVD player and we can now listen to our CDs and watch a film in the evening if we can manage to stay up that late!

Dinner had also been sourced from Tahiti and was stupendous. The main course was Maka – a fish we think was probably swordfish – cooked to perfection with a delicious shallot sauce with lots of garlic. We had the usual cheese, of course. But the meal was rounded off with fresh pineapple, bought in the market in Papeete. It was a far cry from the pineapple you can buy in Tesco in Oxford. The Papeete pineapple was juicy and completely sweet with no harsh edges. I managed to eat two portions, and Kit, who is not a fruit-eater managed half a portion.

Thursday 10th November 2005
Chef plays another blinder

The sea was rather rough this morning, though generally a bow to stern movement rather than port to starboard – this is less effective at tipping you out of bed, but does wake you up quite early!

The morning was spent in the lounge reading, translating the French text of the Equator baptism speech so that the young officer can use it if he has non-French speaking passengers, and for me, doing a big chunk of my tapestry. I need to finish it before Melbourne as the Australian immigration information reminds me that I cannot import woollen thread even if for craft use. It makes no such rule about bringing a completed tapestry into the country.

The food is still being influenced by the visit to Tahiti. Lunch started with fresh tuna ‘cooked’ in lime and lemon juice (but basically still raw – not to my taste) which was a wow with almost all diners Aurel noticed that it wasn’t to my taste, and so it was swiftly cleared away and a simple starter of ham, tomatoes and some macedoine was substituted before anyone else had finished their starter. The main course was quail stuffed with forcemeat on a crouton. Not only that! - we also got a small globe artichoke stuffed with creamy sauce and petits pois, glazed carrots, and duchesse potatoes! The cheese followed ‘comme d’habitude’, and chef had made a selection of delicious fruit tartelettes for dessert. We suspect that he may have been a patissier in a past life. Aurel our steward has even remembered that I don’t eat kiwi fruit, and my portion arrives dressed without it. I think a little lie-down is needed to let all of this settle before going out to read on deck. We are all agreed that the trimmings are not absolutely first class – the plates are a little worthy, but I suppose they break a lot of them. Its plate service, and we don’t have a bevy of flunkies tiddling around us. But – my goodness - we do have absolutely first rate food – 5 star, and wine on the table. Stunning.

By 2pm the sea was very rough – a storm is expected, so I need to put things in the cabin away, and take extra care when putting in my contact lenses not to poke my eye out! However, the sun is out, the temperature is wonderful, there is no humidity so, as long as the deck chairs don’t slide about too much, a sit out on deck to read for a while!

Friday 11th November

Another quiet day at sea. Normal routine. Update the diary in the morning, followed by a little light reading. An aperitif shortly before lunch at 1200. Coffee in the lounge, and either a little snooze in the lounge or settle in a deck chair and watch the ocean. Chef’s really hitting his stride. The quantities are not so enormous, and the presentation is getting better and better. A flying fish flew onto the deck and died before anyone stumbled across it. Interesting to see, and we’re told that they’re very tasty, but clearly only enough for one, so Aurel had it for breakfast.

Saturday 12th November 2005

Amusingly, this doesn’t exist as we passed the international date line overnight. Shades of Phineas Fogg - or is that a character in the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers?

Sunday 13th November 2005.

A few turns round the deck under the containers. The pool is empty as the sea water is too cold. We’re all really pleased that Sunday didn’t disappear as chef puts on a special effort on Sundays. Croissant and Danish pastries for breakfast, lunch is a five courser, starting with prawns and fresh mayonnaise, followed the fish course of turbot with red pepper sauce, followed by beef Wellington, followed by cheese, and pastries and fruit. Stagger upstairs to the lounge again. It’s a good job there are some stairs or our already tightening clothes would not fit at all if there were no exercise. Our newly replaced DVD allows another meeting of the passenger’s film club. Last night we enjoyed Hitchcock’s “To Catch a Thief” but tonight was an inferior gangster movie. Better luck next time, but we are restricted by needing a movie that has either French language and English sub titles or the other way round. All the movies we brought with us are in English with no sub titles at all, so its whatever is in the ship’ library, which is – shall we say – a little male mechanic oriented.

Tahiti was hot

Monday 7th November 2005

Normal sort of stuff really. We pop up to the bridge now and again to make sure the boys are doing their jobs. Happily we can check up on some of the running repairs being made without even leaving our deck chairs. Today’s major consideration was that we may be passing between two of the beautiful Pacific islands during lunch! Fortunately a crisis was avoided as we didn’t pass them until after lunch. [Was this arranged by the officers so that their lunch was not disturbed? They did after all turn the ship so the barbecue could be lit.] Its real paradise island stuff. Long white beaches, blue seas, lagoons and a few very expensive looking resort type hotels. The weather is really hot, but whilst we are under way we don’t notice. We do however have to be very careful about standing around in the sun. It really doesn’t feel hot, but the sun is directly overhead and very fierce.

Tuesday 8th November 2005

As advertised, today is Tahiti. We are due to take our pilot on board at 0530 and be alongside at 0700. Happily the actual times are a little later, but as the clocks go back an hour every couple of days we often wake at 0500 anyway. Time enough to get up and apply super strength sun protection gunk, and let it dry whilst we drink a cup of tea. Tahiti rises out of the mist with heavy rain clouds hanging over it. Our pilot joins, exuding confidence [unlike Mr Machismo Panama] and steers us into a very small harbour. No huge gantries here – our on board cranes will have to do the job with some help later on from a large mobile dockside crane. Instead of handling one box every two minutes, the actuality seems to be one every ten minutes. This is why we have time to spend in Papeete. Its an ill wind.

The local customs and immigration are on board at 0700 and so we will be able to go ashore as soon as they have dealt with the huge pile of passports in front of them. Happily we now have the opportunity to rectify an anomaly. The fearsome United States immigration service that requires us all to attend for interview at US embassies and supply fingerprint and iris recognition data [plus significant costs for the paperwork] and further interviews at port of entry, failed to turn up when the Utrillo left Savannah. Well I suppose it was a Sunday evening. Terrorists take note that US Immigration can’t be bothered at week ends. Anyway the upshot of this is that we have all be immigrated into the US but have no exit stamps. As far as the US is concerned we are still there! We didn’t go ashore in Manzanillo and so Tahiti is our first landfall. Hanging around outside the captain’s office produces the opportunity to ask the immigration officer for entry stamps. They weren’t going to bother this being a French boat, and assumed it was for souvenirs. They were amused when I told them that it would enable us to prove that we were in Tahiti according to the boats schedule. I still expect that we will have a great deal of trouble with the US immigration authorities as we try to prove we have not overstayed our ‘welcome’

We have been advised to take a taxi into Papeete as it will be very hot. All the passengers leave at slightly different times, and we left around 0800. We thought we’d walk. We can see the town, and it doesn’t look all that far, and its early in the morning – and so we set off. Walking through container movement is always a little harrowing, and we have to slink out of the dock gates as the immigration officer put entry and exit stamps in at the same time to save every one further angst – unless we were asked for our papers that is. Still, it’s a very laid back place. By the time we’ve gone 1km we’re very hot and wondering why we thought walking was such a good idea. Container ports are always at the end of large gloomy industrial estates and are distinctly thin on pavements and well endowed with huge container lorries coming and going. No-one goes there without their own transport – except us. In the past when we’ve changed our mind about this sort of thing we’ve just called up a cab, but our super work-in-all-countries phone doesn’t work here. We’re pausing by a roadside stall, but until we get into town we haven’t any local money. At this point a local woman stops her jeep and we gratefully accept an air conditioned ride into the centre of the town. Her husband is a gardener at the town hall, and so that’s where she drops us. Pretty place and we are amused to discover that Papeetian formal work gear is a short sleeve shirt, shorts and flip-flops. Sometimes not even the flip-flops.

We have been warned that Tahiti is now only a tourist island. And so it seems. The shops are of three main types – amazing electronic stores selling enormous sound systems and ‘boom blasters’, Tahitian shirts and dresses [but none in Kit’s size and too heavy fabric for Liz] and black pearl jewellery shops. None of which interests us much. The central market is in two distinct halves. One part sells oils, lotions and carvings to the tourists and the other sells fantastic food. We really yearned for an apartment with a kitchen, but what are we going to do with a slice of the freshest tuna we have ever seen, or a pint of coconut milk. I’ve never seen a parrot fish before and whilst ‘the locals were friendly’ I didn’t like to photograph their stalls without buying anything.

Cash machines solve our local currency problem. What a convenience. Goodbye travellers cheques. As we’re wondering what do to, we chance upon a local bus stop. The busses are old Mercedes pick-ups and have a distinctly shaky body bolted on the back. Almost windowless and cool. One promises a trip past the airport and the university of Polynesia to the Carrefour. A chance to replenish camomile tea stocks! What a great ride. Rolling about all over the place, past houses that back onto the ocean with no walls – it clearly doesn’t ever get cold here. The locals get on an off trampling over all and everyone as they do so. Each ‘bus’ is I think owned by its driver and as soon as one bus leaves, the next draws up to the stop and after its had a few minutes waiting there, the next in line starts hooting for his place at the stop.

It is however boiling. Still, we can indulge our favourite pastime of ‘local watching’ in the café inside the Carrefour. Very peculiar as its just the same as being in a French provincial supermarket, except for the parakeets that are flying about and the appearance of the locals. Old French people who have retired there [after civil service postings and liked it? Needing the heat?] younger French wives[?] whilst their husbands are working at running telephone companies or television stations and Tahitians looking much more comfortable in the heat in bright clothes.

Rickety bus back into Papeete. Great ride. It drops us by the internet café, and so a good deal of time is spent there, checking email, updating the blog, arranging accommodation in Melbourne, cold beers in a cool breeze. Liz checks out the shops while Kit computes. It’s a pleasant spot, and we can see the Utrillo being loaded across the bay. Not us sweating in the sun. At last, a light lunch. Two salads – one a salade niçoise that was – of course – made with stunningly fresh tuna. The best either of us have ever tasted.

Walking around the town we bump into several crew members – all sweating buckets like us. Except chef, who we can only assume is used to sweatshops. Interestingly we saw repeatedly a young American couple who were with us on the bus and got off at the airport. Liz must have seen them back in town at least three times after their airport descent. The girl looks distinctly miserable. I hope they’re not relying on standby flights that are not materialising.

Finally around 1700 we give into the heat, take a taxi back to the boat, air conditioning and cool wine in our room fridge. Chef has already apologised for there only being a cold supper, but again we’re relieved. Liz is exhausted and retires early while Kit and Raymond spend time on the bridge ensuring that the dockers don’t mess up the loading. Another different way of doing things. The locals ride around on the roof of the boxes, swing them into place almost losing toes as the boxes drop with a crash; fork lift trucks rush about with two containers perched, empty boxes are lifted aboard two at a time with only four wires holding them both. Still no-one died whilst we were watching, so maybe they know what they’re doing.

We stayed on the bridge to check the work of the captain and pilot, but as they didn’t bump the boat into anything, after a while we enjoyed the cooler evening as we left the town lights behind. We’re glad we came, but I don’t think we’ll be visiting again – at least not when its as hot as this. Gaugin might have loved it, but we just sweated with the other tourists.
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