GJT and I stand on Airlie Beach (March 5) having debarked the tender. As we walk along we met another couple from the ship walking to go swimming. “Yes, we have to go to that enclosed area over there,” the woman says. “It’s because of the box jelly fish.”
“Apparently,” says GJT, reading the sign on the post by the beach we have stopped in front of. “You can recover from a sting with vinegar.”
“Yes,” she says, “that’s the locals cure, but doctors say medications are more effective. Oh,” she continues walking in the direction of her swimming area and then stops and turns around, “And then there’s the little guys that you can’t see?” GJT looks puzzled. “What do they do?”
“They just kill you!”
Airlie Beach, Queensland, Australia
Culinary Curiosities: Chefs on the High Seas:
We sit in the Royal Court Theatre awaiting a first ever for the ship and for the chefs— cooking demo by three of the ship’s chefs.
Everything is going well when suddenly a phone rings. It’s one of the chefs onstage.
“Excuse me,” he says to the snickering audience. “Yes, I am in the middle of the cooking presentation.” He thrusts the phone mid-air towards the audience to show the theatre full of people to the person on the other end and says, “say hello to everyone.” We all shout and wave. Then he turns the phone to his ear and says, “Yes, yes, go to the shelf, chop the ingredients and get going. By.” He looks at his audience directly and says, “Sorry everyone, but I’m needed.” Everyone laughs. The end of the presentation arrives. That same chef walks to the wings and says, “Come on, come out here. This is my boss. He is evaluating me,” as the man enters the stage. I imagine he passed.
Kangaroo Quandaries: A Taste of Australia:
The cuisine adventure continues as that night GJT tries something different.
“It’s kangaroo,” he says sitting across from me in the Artisan buffet.
“What?” I make a face and shake my head— not for me.
“Oh, remember what we learned about that word.” GJT chews and I keep going, “how when the early Australians arrived they pointed to the animal and asked the aborigines what it was called. The aborigines responded kangaroo which actually means in Aborigine I don’t understand,” I smile.
GJT finishes his plate and pushes it away. “It tastes like beef. Psychologically, though, I can’t finish it because I kept seeing a little Joey hopping around.”
Cairns: The Tender Wait and City Discoveries:
Cunard makes an announcement. “Ladies and Gentlemen it may take up to ninety minutes to get you into Cairns today. We thank you for your patient and know that we are doing our best to speed up the tender process. Thank you. “
“We’re going back,” “It’s not worth it,” “This is ridiculous.” All comments from passengers when they learned the tender process for today. GJT and I walk past them and sit down in the Royal Court Theatre. “We’re going to see it,” GJT says. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter. Where else are we going to go?” I say.
If we had listened to any of these people or been swayed by them we would have missed an amazing day. For nothing turned out to be as long as Cunard had originally said. We settle in to watch “Grease” on the movie screen in the Royal Court Theatre as we await our tender number to be called. “Group #24, it’s your turn to go,” the Cunard rep says. “That’s our group,” GJT says. “Off we go,” I say.
We decide to walk to the mall. “This looks like 1960s America,” I say to GJT. He stops to take a picture. “Oh, wow, Woolworth’s. I haven’t seen one since my teens in Miami,” I say.
After dinner we are on the aft deck. The light fades as an aquamarine sunset paints the sky.
“That’s Cairns,” I say and point to twinkling lights on the land as the ship slowly sails away.
“Could be,” he says. “Look, jellies,” GJT points to the amorphous creatures floating by the engines. Motionless we watch as the ship’s moving shrinks Cairns in the distance and the sky darkens. “Look there’s the Southern Cross.”“And Venus,” I say pointing in an opposite direction.
Strains of a soft gentle rhythm comes from the band playing now on the Panorama Deck where we stand lost in the stars. GJT takes me in his arms and we slowly dance under the Southern Cross and Venus, with the jellies still following us. Magic! One of the lessons we learn taking this cruise is that these wu-wei moments that just happen are usually much better than any Cunard scheduled event. Slowly we are learning how to take our own cruise.
“It will take you more than twenty minutes,” said the kind woman in the Darwin tourist office. “But you might want to take a bus.”
We had started out at 10 AM. It was now noon. weat dripping from us, breathing getting a bit more difficult I say, “I think we should turn back.” GJT says, “let’s try and go a little further.”
Five minutes later I definitely reached a little further. We pass the sign that says the botanical gardens and then we stop.
“This is where we take a picture and say we did the gardens,” I say.
And we did.
“Ladies and gentlemen please welcome: the Northern Australia Folkloric Group.”
A young man with tousled hair, dressed in cut-off black shirt and pants walks barefoot to centerstage.
He began to sing and it was transporting. His original music and lyrics and the combination of guitars and digiridoos and drums that he used his feet to play calmed and soothed his audience like a warm ocean breeze. “Yes, I recognize I’m a white Englishman playing an aboriginal instrument.” Everyone chuckled.
“I love Northern Australia.” And his songs testified to that statement. Original, fresh, and very much from the heart. Three modern dancers flew, dove and flowed across the stage with him creating a lovely finishing tableau.The man had played so many instruments simultaneously it was awe-inspiring. While his feet played the drums, his mouth blew out melodies on a harmonica a harmonica, the two digiridoos, a guitar which he alternated with a slide guitar. In some songs he played 3 or 4 instruments at the same time. It was all about the music, his music, his lyrics and he was funny at times as well talking in between his songs. The audience gave him a rousing applause. GJT jumped out of his seat and stood applauding loudly. As it would turn out many of these local talent groups as Cunard introduced them were outstanding. This was the first one, but it wouldn’t be the last.
“This is Captain Thorhaug. The external promenade deck will be closed tomorrow from 9 PM to 5 AM due to the threat of piracy that we face as we sail through the Celebs and Sulu Sea. If the alarm should sound, please stay in your stateroom. Those with balconies, please shut your drapes, and lower your lights. The ship will lower all its lights so please be careful as you walk around.”
Whoa! Pirates!!!!
GJT and I after that night’s performance that night (8: 15 PM) had to walk around the promenade deck to see what was going on. And there it was- water cannons everywhere and our sign hung facing outward that we had a secure perimeter 50 meters away. I learned later we had made BBC news and some people on deck were sure they had heard we had air protection standing by. Nothing happened to us, but we were prepared.
