Sunday, 1st May …..

We’re just about at the end of the cruise and the ship’s crew is pulling out all stops to make sure we leave with happy memories and will be more inclined to book for another cruise in the future. Last night was the final Formal Night of the cruise and so we put on the glad rags and fronted-up for a Captain’s Cocktail Party in the Atrium. Apparently, the Carnival Group, which owns Princess and 31 other cruise lines had just announced the launch of its 100th ship and the CEO had decreed that all 27000 passengers currently on their ships would be given a glass of cheap champagne and asked to toast the new vessel, Carnival Magic.
We had been watching, all day, the decorating of a huge cake and that was to be cut after the toast. There was also to be a balloon drop before we all went to bed. Passengers got into the spirit of the occasion and those who had been whinging about him all day were among the loudest to cheer him after his speech. The glasses were drained, the canapes wolfed down, the cake was cut and distributed and Marilyn and I went off to dinner, and what a dinner it was.

We both started with Jumbo prawns with a brandied cream dressing. They must have picked up a load of prawns in Broome because they were superb. Normally prawn dishes on Princess are made from those frozen creatures from the Mekong delta but these were crisp and tasted of the sea. Marilyn had a green salad and I had beef broth before the piece de resistance. We could have had any of 8 dishes but both opted for grilled Lobster Tail and King Prawn with asparagus, cream potato and buerre blanc. The prawns were huge and had been butterflied like the lobster tail, so it looked like we had three good portions of lobster. It was a fabulous dish with great flavor.

We ordered light desserts but were encouraged to wait for the parade of Bombe Alaske when the kitchen staff and junior waiters march around the dining room with the bombes. Great fun and another happy memory to store away.

We were a bit over-heated by this stage so quickly changed into casual gear and headed off to the Princess Theatre for the show, The British Invasion. Wow! The shows have generally been good but this was spectacular with incredible costumes and lots of pizzaz. As Marilyn said, the music gave them a great foundation but they really made the most of it. There were many highlights but their interpretation of Bohemian Rhapsody brought us to our feet. If you had asked us, when we were leaving Bali, whether we would sail with Princess again, we might have been a bit non-committal. However, last night showed us how good they can be so we’ll be happy to give them another go.

Marilyn wore one of the outfits she bought in the Philippines last year and there is no question she turned heads. There was nothing else like it on board and the deep red colour is very eye-catching. People passing by complimented her and people in the dining room leaned over to say how impressed they were with how she looked. Nobody, of course, even noticed me but I’m used to that and just get on with opening doors and carrying bags for my more glamorous better half. Her friend in the photograph is Jillian, one of the other passengers.

Today we’re at sea again. I’ve been getting up early each morning for a brisk walk on the deck and a quick swim before breakfast. It was 7.15 this morning before I hit the deck. Sometime earlier than that we had passed an oil well platform and I could still see it some way behind us The sea was a bit rough and walking wasn’t easy but I persevered through the salt spray to complete my minimum three laps. Two of the pools were closed but I found the third one open and had my quick dip, then a shower and breakfast.

It’ll be another quiet day today. Marilyn has Goofy Golf at 10 and there’s a movie with Russell Crowe at 2. In between times we’ll try to avoid snacking on the extraordinary amount of food the crew keep offering us. We still have 7 cups available on our coffee card so will have to make sure we drink that today or tomorrow. We’re in Geraldton tomorrow and, as has become our habit, we’ll post home from there a box of excess clothes. I can’t imagine I’ll need a dinner suit in the few days we’re in Perth, and Marilyn put aside a heap or stuff she won’t need, so we will rid ourselves of some excess weight.

Saturday, 30th April …..

Hadn’t realized the number of disabled people we have on board; I don’t mean just the frail and infirm, I’m talking about those who have clear disabilities which impact on their lives, long-term. There are at least two couples who are profoundly deaf. The two men sat in the Patisserie Bar this morning talking an animatedly with their hands. I suppose their gestures become more emphatic if they want to ‘shout’ but I was embarrassed they might think I was eavesdropping so I avoided watching them.

There are several people with vision problems. One tall gentleman with a white stick walks everywhere with his hand on his wife’s shoulder, others are even more independent although as I have mentioned before, the ship is not particularly friendly to people who are not young and nimble.

There are two middle-aged men in wheelchairs accompanied by their male carers. We see them involved in every activity, on- shore and in the pool and ‘walking’ the decks early in the morning and late at night. I don’t know the situation but imagine the two carers are employed to do that job rather than having taken on the responsibility as family members. As one of the disabled men is aboriginal, his carer is certainly not a family member. Whatever the situation, the two carers are doing a marvellous job, well beyond the call of duty. There is a third man in a similar situation but he seems to be supported by his family. One man pushes his wife around in a wheelchair. It seems she has had a stroke; he folds her hands on her lap and takes her to dinner and the entertainment and so on,

Sadly, there are two young people in wheelchairs. One is severely disabled and we see her being fed with a spoon by her grandmother (we think). The other girl is much more independent and can get around with a walking frame. She is very vivacious and always cheerful, but severely disabled. There is a young man, late teens or early twenties accompanied by his parents. I thought at first he had severe ADHD but now I think his problems are more deep-seated. He talks loudly in company but also mutters to himself.

Marilyn has had chats with a woman whose husband is in the final stages of cancer. This trip might be their last major outing. At least three other women have clearly had chemotherapy and who knows how many others are in the same boat but aren’t showing the outward signs.

I have a chance to watch people because Marilyn has involved herself in Goofy Golf. Her team came second this morning and she missed out on a ‘gold’ medal by just one point. The other day she was in the ‘Sink it and Drink it’ game. If she managed to hit one golf ball with another, she would be given a glass of champagne. No problem! She hit the target cleanly with her second ball and won the champagne.

We were in Bali yesterday. It was the first time the ship has visited this particular port of Tanah Ampo in Padang Bay. Previously, they had gone to Benoa but it was a long transit by tender to the wharf. In Tanah Ampo, we are able to anchor much closer in and save considerable time in the tenders. Unfortunately, when the first shore party arrived to set up for disembarkation, they found the landing area pretty dodgy. The tenders drop us off on to a pontoon and we climb up on to the jetty via a ramp. Three problems: the pontoon was too small for a tender-load of passengers to stand together, the ramp was unsafe and the slope between the pontoon and the jetty was too steep. Disembarkation was put on hold until a gang of engineers with reinforcing bars and welding equipment had a go at repairing the ramp. They couldn’t do anything about the slope because that was determined by the level of the tide and, in the end, they could only allow 1 or 2 passengers on the ramp at one time.

I’ve already mentioned that our passengers are not the most nimble of creatures and some needed significant assistance to get up the ramp and, later, to get down it again safely. Say each tender brought in 60 passengers, only 12 could fit on the pontoon and it takes between 15 and 60 seconds to climb the ramp. So, at best each tender-load would take 15 minutes to get on to the jetty. Mmmm! 1800 passengers = 30 tenders = 7.5 hours. My math. Is a bit dodgy but I believe it took 5 hours to offload all those who wanted to go ashore and, when the last of the tours arrived back at about 4, it took 2 and a half hours to get them back on board. It was a stinking hot day and the ship’s crew did a remarkable job in the circumstances. However, it is all grist to the mill for the whingers and they were in full song last night and this morning.


We thought we might take one of the conducted tours but it was full so, in the end, we took the shuttle in to the local town, Candidasa, to check it out. There are several resorts but it’s not too touristy – a few shops selling clothing and souvenirs, a sprinkling of vendors selling sunglasses, batik stuff and watches, but not as pushy as you might find in Phuket or Bangkok. We bought a couple of nice shirts and sun-dresses and had a local beer at a nice hotel before we made our way back to the ship for a late lunch.

Careful, he might hear you .....

Yesterday was a ‘sea-day’ when everyone wanders around looking for a place to sit and checks the daily sheet for interesting things to do. With almost 2000 passengers, the little bars and sitting areas become quite crowded and it’s fascinating to listen in to some of the conversations which are sometimes just a little too loud.

It’s funny how some voices are very penetrating and we’ve moved seats from time to time because we couldn’t concentrate on whatever we were doing because of a ‘loudmouth’ nearby who dominated the airwaves. Most of the conversations go in one ear and out the other but, occasionally, one will be more memorable for one reason or another. I’ll try to set down examples of things we have heard, and remembered, during the past couple of days.

Complaints can be embarrassing and more than once we’ve slunk away because we couldn’t stand to hear more. American passengers can be among the more obnoxious because they complain about the most trivial. One fellow loudly told anyone who would listen that his cabin is ‘filthy. The chemical they use in the toilets has left a grey ring around the toilet. Standards are dropping everywhere. We used to get a mint when we left the dining room but that doesn’t happen anymore.’ Australians can be just as obnoxious. In the dining room yesterday, the waiter at the next table delivered a drink and said, ‘Lime and bitters, madam.’ She loudly asked, ‘Don’t you put lime in these drinks anymore?’ ‘Yes, madam,’ he said. “It has lime in it.’ ‘No, you just said it didn’t.’ She clearly meant to say that maybe it didn’t have lemon but she wouldn’t back down and got more and more obnoxious. The drink turned out to be a lemon, lime and bitters, perfectly made but the waiter was embarrassed by the whole nonsense.

A number of passengers are getting a print-out of their account almost every day to make sure they are not being cheated. Unfortunately, they forget what they have spent and the staff at the reception have to patiently try to explain what is what in the face of rudeness and bad manners.

We sat beside a group of women in the bar last night. One of them had a drink in front of her and the rest were trying to work out what they wanted. They asked the first lady what she had. ‘I asked for a Frozen Daiquiri but it’s all ice,’ she said. ‘Oh, that’s no good,’ said another. “Here’s one with Grand Mariner. What’s that?’ Another said, ‘That lady over there has one that looks nice. What are you drinking?’ she shouted. ‘It’s a virgin Pinal Colada, $4.55 for a medium,’ came the reply. ‘What did you say?’ ‘A virgin Pina Colada, it doesn’t have any alcohol.’ ‘Oh, I’m not sure about that.’

In the bar again, and a man came in carrying a wooden horse. ‘Can I park my horse here?’ he asked the waitress. Someone asked him what the horse’s name was. ‘Oh, I can’t divulge that yet, and I can’t tell you the jockey’s name or the name of the trainer, but I’m hoping to win the Melbourne Cup with him.’

We were listening to Larry the piano man when he stopped playing and said to a man standing over near the bar. ‘Stop fidgeting, ‘he said. ‘ Do you have something to say?’ ‘I just wanted to tell you that that man over there has ferrets.’ ‘What!’ said Larry. ‘With him? Maybe that’s why his legs are crossed.’ ‘No,’ said the first man. ‘He has them at home.’ ‘I was bitten by a ferret once,’ said Larry. ‘Or maybe it was a mink.’ (It’s like something out of the Goon Show.)

Some of the overheard conversations are very sad. One old dear wandered by this morning, muttering ‘That’s a waste of time,’ over and over, with her husband saying ‘Yes, dear, yes, dear’.

We always choose to sit at a table on our own because you never know who you’ll be stuck with. Some fellow-passengers can be boring and we’ve overheard conversations from adjoining table where one passenger insists on explaining the hands he had at last night’s Three-Hand Poker Game. Ladies who do craft are among the most boring although there can sometimes be a gem among the drivel. A group yesterday was talking about some samples of embroidery they had seen. One of the long-suffering males in the party finally piped up, ‘I thought the golfer was the best piece, and I thought she did his balls particularly well.’

We’re in Broome today and a beautiful place it is. It has a temporary look about it because almost all the building are corrugated iron. We were keen to buy some pearls so took the shuttle into town and wandered around for an hour or two before coming back to the boat. We’ll see the famous sunset before we sail this evening for Bali. Living on the East Coast, we have to travel a long way to see the sun set over water. Manila Bay was beautiful and so was the view from the Kimberley Coast; let’s hope Broome can match up.

Monday, 25th April – Anzac Day …..

We sailed out of Darwin yesterday evening, past the base for the Navy Patrol Boats which cover the seas to our north and are often involved in intercepting refugee boats trying to get to the mainland, or boats trying to smuggle in drugs, etc. When you see how vast the oceans are in this part of the world you wonder how they could ever be effectively patrolled. We remember seeing a TV series called Patrol Boat about this region and quite enjoyed it but it was a bit worrying to see how often our brave sailors were outsmarted by smugglers and other various baddies and had to be rescued by their colleagues. I’m glad it’s only fiction.

Today being Anzac Day, we are told there will be a 6.30am Dawn Service and a full service at 11. It was held on the Pool Deck which is the only reasonably large space where 2000 people could gather. Of course, the space is normally covered with banana loungers so it took a bit of give and take to accommodate the crowds. The dedicated sun-worshippers wanted to watch the service from the comfort of their loungers which take up a lot of room, the rest of us were happy to stand but wanted a bit of shade. The upshot of the negotiation was that the loungers were able to lounge but had to put up with people standing in front of them.

It was a very moving service. Larry, the piano man, sang Eric Bogle’s And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda, they played an excerpt from The Kings Speech on the big screen – the bit where Lionel Logue explains how he tried to help soldiers returning from WW1 with shell-shock, there were the usual hymns and prayers, bugle calls, and two ex-servicemen reading the Recessional before a wreath was thrown overboard. It was a very impressive; Eric Bogle’s song about the futility of war always affects me and the familiar ritual we’ve seen on so many Anzac Days in the past tugs at the heartstrings. Princess Cruises went the extra mile, too, with a large decorated cake and Anzac biscuits available during the rest of the day.

We managed to get into The Kings Speech for the afternoon session so decided to have an entertainment-free evening. We were sailing through the Kimberley Coast so there was a lot to see. This must be one of the most beautiful and spectacular places in the world, and still unspoiled. Our ship is the first vessel of this size to sail through here and it took years of work to ensure the charts were adequate. There’s still a lot of this area un-surveyed or inadequately charted so we felt it a privilege to be among the pioneers.

Seeing The Kings Speech for the second we realized again what a great movie it is. The performances by all the cast were outstanding. Jeffrey Rush is certainly one of the world’s great actors and Colin Firth showed that he certainly deserved all the awards he has received. The two little girls playing Elizabeth and Margaret brought back memories of the photographs we had been brought up on when we were children. One famous photograph of the time had the two princesses in kilts and short white socks, and this was replicated in the movie. The producers certainly knew their audience and there we were on that afternoon, reliving those times. Of course, few of us were alive in the 1930’s but we were all part of the Royalty cult which fed on photographs of the Royal family members from their birth to their death. When Elizabeth was crowned in the 1950’s, we were inundated with photographs of her life in every publication and movie newsreel. You didn’t have to read Women’s Weekly to get your royal fix, although it helped.

After another wonderful meal which included Sashimi of Salmon and Whitefish, and Crispy Skin Duck Breast we decided a dip in the pool was all we could manage. There are a number of pools on the ship and we found one that was deserted so soaked for a while before retiring to read for a while in bed. We have to put our clocks back an hour so will get a bit extra bed-time.

Our next port of call in Broome on Wednesday and Marilyn’s already making plans for the pearls she will buy – not for herself, you understand, but for gifts. Oh, well, you can’t take it with you.

Sunday, 24th April …..

We’re in Darwin today and at last the weather is tropical. It was nice enough in Townsville but today we hit 32 degrees so much of the afternoon was spent around the pool. There is a huge movie screen over the pool deck. In the morning, they project the view from the bridge (which is riveting when we’re in port!), in the afternoon they show videos of concerts or movies. We saw Pink in Concert (fantastic!), Lionel Ritchie (past his best!) and many others. In the evening, they show Movies Under the Stars. The other day it was The Social Network and tomorrow, they’re showing The Kings Speech. Looks like another late night.

The voyage from Port Douglas, north through the Barrier Reef and then through the Torres Strait was a delight. We were looking forward to seeing Thursday Island where Marilyn’s father was stationed during WW2, but I didn’t realize that there are Tuesday and Wednesday Islands as well. Our captain suggested that the early navigators ran out of inspiration when they were naming places. There was also a lot of empty ocean before we reached Darwin.

For Easter Day, the ship’s crew have put out displays of chocolate Easter eggs, pink balloons and hot cross buns for breakfast. There’s a Roman Catholic priest on board who runs occasional services so he’s been a bit busy and there’s also a Jewish Rabbi who’s madly celebrating Passover. The priest’s flock gets to worship in the Vista Lounge but the Jewish contingent has to put up with the Shooting Stars Disco. I think a case could be made for discrimination.

The problems with people falling over continues and Marilyn’s count is up to 7 already, and they’re only the ones she has seen herself. An ambulance came to the ship in Brisbane and someone was carted off, and two people were off-loaded today. I suppose with a passenger list of 1950 or more, many of whom are elderly, you can expect a few to succumb but it puts a bit of a damper on the holiday.

We went off today but, being Easter Sunday, most shops were shut. We’re not keen on the arranged excursions; apart from being expensive, they tend to include stuff that doesn’t interest us. We’re not very good tourists!

The food on the ship has been terrific. We tend to have all of our meals in the Regency Dining Room although there are other options: casual meals in the Horizon buffet, a pizza restaurant, and the up-market Sterling Steakhouse where they have a surcharge of $20. Normally, we have two courses for lunch and three for dinner, with dessert only rarely. Last night was Formal Night so we dressed up in our finery, attended the Captain’s Cocktail Party and then to dinner. For this special occasion, one of the main courses was lobster, and it was great. Most days, a formal afternoon tea is served: scones and jam and cream, beautiful sandwiches and luscious cakes. Although it is a highlight of the day, we’ve decided to give it a miss as it is too easy to have one cake too many.

Wednesday, 20th April …..

By the time we woke up this morning, the sun was shining and it promised to be a great day. The ship had anchored off Magnetic Island, about 13Km from Townsville’s port. This meant that tender boats would be used to take passengers ashore. And, of course, a sunny day and a tropical port meant that everyone wanted to get off. What a logistical nightmare to move 2000 people from the ship to the shore, when so many of them have mobility issues. The ship’s information stated that passengers who weren’t reasonably nimble would not cope with tenders. Did that stop anyone? Not a chance!

It was a bit of a shambles. Not because the crew didn’t know what they were doing but because the ferries they were using could carry several hundred passengers and it takes time to move that number. Tickets were issued to try and organize some priority but, inevitably, some passengers ignored the number they had and just turned up when it suited them to be there. The crew just had to wear it because the passenger is always right. People pushed into line and whinged when the passenger in front of them was a bit slow and, at the end of the day, the ship’s crew had to accept the blame. The trip to shore took about 30 minutes so, if you missed the first ferry, it might be a while before the next one was available. But that didn’t matter; there should have been more ferries. Sometimes, it’s hard to smile at human nature.

Realising there might be problems, we went ashore a bit earlier than we might have otherwise but were still met by Margery and Roy at 11 as arranged. It was great to see them again and we picked up our friendship as if it had never been interrupted. We first met in January, 1987 when we arrived at Cathedral School for my first post as Headmaster. We had been offered a school house but someone had forgotten to arrange the airconditioning, our furniture hadn’t arrived and we found that it would take twelve weeks to deliver some new furniture than we had to buy. At that time, Roy was in charge to maintenance at the school and, realizing our plight, he wandered by to see if he could help, organizing beds and other bits and pieces to see us through. He said, ‘My wife makes a pretty good curry; would you like to come and have dinner with us.’ So started a firm friendship which we really value. As it happened, Marg had dropped something on her toe during the afternoon so was hobbling around trying to get the dinner ready while we chatted, all the time smiling bravely so as not to give the wrong impression.

During the eight years we lived in Townsville, we saw them often, for dinner parties, canasta games, weekends away and so on. We really missed them when we went south again and never quite put together so good a friendship with anyone else. It was interesting that they commented that the days of frequent visits to each other’s homes, picnics and such-like have passed. I noticed an article in a newspaper this week about research in the US and Australia about the decrease over the last twenty years in community involvement and socializing. It’s something like dinner parties down by 60%, picnics down by 48%, and so on. We’re becoming a nation of isolates, expecting to achieve all our social needs through Facebook and talk-back radio. How sad is that?

Today, Marg and Roy took us on a tour of Townsville to see the changes which have occurred since we were last here in 1995. Of course, there was still evidence of damage from the last cyclone but the city is looking great. Cathedral School has developed remarkably but the huge rain trees are still there anmd the lagoon, so it was familiar. A recent development at Thuringowa is fantastic with the best pool complex I have ever seen. The Strand, which was always a little tired, has been extensively polished and is now very welcoming. There’s still a way to go (the Mall is a disaster!) but it is certainly a city on the move.

Marg had organized a picnic for us to give us a change from the food on the ship and we had it on the waterfront. She even brought doilies to go under our drinks. Then, a quick trip to Castle Hill to get an overview of the way the city is expanding and back to the wharf to line up for the first available ferry. We had a terrific bonus when our grand-daughter, Madeleine, who had arrived for a holiday In Townsville just yesterday, came out to see us. Her mother, Melanie, drove her and it was great to see them both. Madi turns 16 in September and is now making plans for her future. She’s keen to work with horses in the short-term but is keeping her options open as regards her future career.

We were back at the ship by 5.30 and changed ready for another hectic evening of entertainment: 7 o’clock, Trevor Knight in the Vista Lounge, 7.45 dinner, 9.45 to the Princess Theatre to listen to Jennifer Grey and by 11 o’clock we were back in the Atrium Lounge to spend another hilarious hour with Larry Dunsmore on the piano. Larry does play well but his gift is interaction with his audience. We laugh out loud at the outrageous remarks. Sometimes he can be quite sharp, especially when his victim doesn’t understand he is being got at. Sometimes, the victim can give back as good as he gets. One fellow last night requested the Maori song by Dean Martin, you know the one which goes, ‘When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s a Maori!’ It brought the house down and left Larry speechless.

Jennifer Grey had been at our table for dinner on Saturday night so we were delighted to see her performance. She was fantastic; anyone who can sing Wind Beneath My Wings and make I Will Always Love You sound reasonable has to have some talent.

Tuesday, 19th April …..

It’s been raining since we left Tasmania and we expect more showers and thunderstorms as we head north. It’s disappointing that we haven’t been able to walk on the deck or swim. As these activities generally take up a fair bit of our time, we’ve had to look for alternatives, and it’s usually eating.

We enjoy sitting in the Patisserie Bar on Deck 5 where we can get a comfortable seat and there’s always a plate of pastries available for those little surreptitious snacks which break up the routine of the day. Marilyn’s taken a fancy to little jam- or cream-filled donuts which appear even at breakfast. I think we’ll end up paying for the indulgence in the long run.

Anyway, the sun has popped out briefly this morning so people are all out on the various open areas to pretend they’re really on holidays. I’ve had a walk on the deck this morning; three laps equals one mile so I made that my first target. We’re somewhere off the coast of Queensland, north of Brisbane and expecting to arrive in Townsville tomorrow morning.


It was good to see Ron and Sue yesterday. They had driven down from Toowoomba to meet the ship even though the weather was shocking. They took us up to Mt Coot-tha which overlooks Brisbane and, if the weather permits, give a good view of the city. We might as well have been on the moon for all we saw but we did find a very good restaurant and had a pleasant lunch and talked and talked and talked. It’s been about 11 years since we last saw them and lots of things have happened in the interim.

I’m waiting for 10.30 to come around because there is a Service Club meeting to be held in the Rendezvous Bar. I’ve been to a couple before on the Diamond Princess and it gives a chance to ‘make-up’ for a missed meeting. An elderly woman has taken the chair opposite and is keen to chat. She’s also going to the meeting as she belongs to the RSL. She tells me her grandfather was at Gallipoli, her husband was in the navy and her son was in Vietnam.

She made the comment that this ship is not set up for older people. There are too many stairs, and places where the floor level changes and makes a dangerous trip-point. We’ve seen three nasty falls so far and the cruise has hardly started. Another problem is that some people can’t accept that they have mobility problems and insist on tackling stairs which would have been no problem when they were twenty years younger. There are hundreds of zimmer frames, walking sticks and wheel chairs and the passage ways are not designed to accommodate them. We were in the library this morning and a woman in a wheel chair had to ask people to move their chairs so she could get through. There must be some authority which makes sure cruise ships comply with the needs of people who need walking aids.

We’re noticing that this ship seems more crowded than any we’ve been on before. When we came down for breakfast this morning there were no tables available in the dining room and even the buffet was busy. It’s hard to find a chair in the coffee lounges most of the time and we had to sit on the stairs to hear the piano player last night. The Diamond Princess we were on last year carried more passengers but we never felt crowded as we do now.

The piano player we saw last night was a hoot. He can certainly play well but it’s his ‘patter’ which is a big hit with the audience. He insults anyone who coughs or waves to a friend and berates passers-by. He has a terrific wit and is often outrageous. As I said, we had to sit on the stairs and we certainly weren’t the only one. The night before there was a full production in the theatre called Piano Man where the cast sang and danced to the songs of Billy Joel, Elton John, Barry Manilow and even Liberace. Each big show is performed twice a night for two nights in a row so that everyone can get a chance to see it. The problem is that our old-timers forget they saw it the night before and turn up early the second night to make sure they get a seat. And those of us who turn up on time have to sit on the stairs. Old age is a bugger, especially when someone else has it.

I went to the Service Meeting. Bit of a fizzer but I got a certificate to hand in to the Rotary Club to prove that I showed willing. Marilyn’s gone to a lecture on how to eat more and weigh less to see if she can get some tips so I’m sitting in the Patisserie Bar with a Latte and a cream donut hoping to lose weight. Not much chance, I’m afraid.

Sunday, 17th April ……

Written at Sea! The notepaper in our cabin on the Sun Princess has this injunction written on each sheet. How romantic; it generates the thought of Horatio Nelson scribbling a note to Lady Hamilton that he won’t be able to meet her at the pub that evening as he is still up to his ears in the Battle of Trafalgar. Maybe, when Joseph Banks was setting out his treatise on the flora and fauna of Terra Australis, he headed each page with ‘Written at Sea’. So, in the fine tradition of those nautical authors down the centuries, this episode of the blog is being Written at Sea – in fact we’re off the coast of Northern New South Wales, heading for our first landfall at Brisbane tomorrow morning. I've attached a couple of pictures of the Atrium on the ship which extends over 4 decks and is where we spend a lot of time. There’s been a lot happening over the past few days. Perhaps the most important is that I have agreed to take on the role of Tasmanian Craft Fair Director for the years 2012 and 2013. I’ll say a bit more about the details later but it means that Marilyn and I will now be obliged to put down roots in Tasmania for the next 2 or 3 years. Out the window goes our plans for a major trip to North America and Europe in 2012; instead, we will set up house in Northern Tasmania and devote ourselves to organizing the two events. The Tasmanian Craft Fair began about 30 years ago and has grown in that time to a massive event held over 4 days in November and involves up to 300 stall-holders and 35000 paying customers. The stalls fill 11 or 12 venues and a fleet of buses drive around the various sites moving the crowd from place to place. Originally set up to give local Deloraine crafts people the opportunity to sell their wares, artists from all over Australia now take part. Often, we invite international artists to attend; in 2008, we had a group of leather artisans from New Zealand, in 2006, Danish cabinet-makers brought extraordinary examples of their work. I directed the Fair in 2007 and 2008 while working full-time at Giant Steps, so it is very much a part-time occupation. The problem is that the work is spread across the whole year. Organisation of the Fair begins as soon as the previous Fair is finished. In fact, the general outline of the next Fair is generally pretty well fixed in the previous year. In January , the Secretary distributes the stall-holders’ application forms and there are hundreds of other tasks to be carried out during the remainder of the year. Instead of the 5- or 6-month overseas trip we had in mind, we will only be able to take trips of 1 or 2 weeks at a time. This is probably not a bad thing as both Marilyn and I get a bit ‘ready-for-home’ if a trip is too long. Currently, we are on the long-anticipated cruise from Sydney to Perth. The Sun Princess is based in Australia so the majority of the passengers are Australian and, it fair to say, of senior years – even more senior than us. There are a handful of younger people, with kids, but they are very much in the minority. We’ll see how things turn out but I suspect the Entertainment staff will have a bit of trouble generating enthusiasm for Crazy Golf or Pool Volleyball. Tomorrow, we will meet our long-term friends, Sue and Ron Hawkins, in Brisbane. Sue was one of the Administration staff at Friends School when I taught there, and she and Ron were also interested in Orienteering. Marilyn and I used to visit them in Tasmania when we were in Mittagong and it was in their house that we made the decision to move back to Tasmania. Sue and Ron now live in Toowoomba and will drive down to Brisbane for the day so we can catch up. On a closing note, I should report that, as of Thursday last the nesting duck in the Deloraine Caravan Park had managed to hatch out 2 chicks. She then seemed to lose enthusiasm and rolled all the other eggs away. Who knows what will happen to them. The caretaker at the park says she receives regular calls from South Australia and Victoria wanting updates on the progress of the hatching. Grey Nomads obviously have too little in their lives to interest them.

Sunday, 10th April …..

The van beside us pulled out yesterday. It must have been there for quite a while because the grass under where it had been was quite yellow. And, there, sitting quite happily , where the van had been parked, was a duck on a nest! We have been here for a week and had no idea there was a mother-to-be duck under the van next door. She must have thought she had found a nice sheltered spot and seemed not at all perturbed with all the activity around here.

When we all began to gather around to have a look, she left the nest and waddled over to us looking for a handout, leaving her 11 (yes, 11, eggs unattended. Anyway, Marilyn has moved into animal protection mode and keeps finding little snacks for the adopted feathered friend. It rained heavily last night and the poor duck looked very bedraggled but ducks are waterproof and no harm was done.

This morning, when we opened the door, the duck was waiting patiently outside for breakfast. It hasn’t taken her long to work out where her bread is buttered (if that’s not a mangled metaphor). Another van pulled in today, and began to back into the space. They did notice the nest but their van quite long and so they had to carefully back up and over the nest, making sure it was dead-centre and not in danger of the wheels. The duck was a bit flustered but only jumped off long enough for the van to come to a halt then she was straight back to her job. I don’t know whether dusks can make value judgments about their lot in life but, if so, this one is probably realizing she will be a lot more comfortable if it rains again tonight. I wonder how long it takes duck eggs to incubate. Chances are we won’t be here when the ducklings hatch out …. and that might be a good thing.

We had to get up early because we were going on a car rally, organized by our Rotary Club. I don’t know whether it was set up to coincide with the Targa Tasmania but it covered much of the same area. Given the choice of being driver or navigator, Marilyn elected to drive. It was a fantastic day and it’s been agreed we’ll do it again. Our friend, Robyn, rang Marilyn’s phone while we were on our way, and I was delighted to tell her that Marilyn couldn’t answer the phone because we were on a car rally and she was the driver. What an exciting life we lead!

It’s just a few days before we leave on our cruise so we’ve started to sort out the clothes we will need. It’s extraordinary that we have boxes of clothes in the shed but the pile we need for the cruise is just a small fraction. Some people might say that we are holding on to stuff we may never wear again but we haven’t reached that understanding yet. Maybe one day …..

Targa Tasmania …..

Targa is one of the big events in Tasmania each year and brings a lot of visitors to the state. I’ve never been a petrol-head but now that we have time on our hands, it seemed like a good idea to have a look at one of the stages. The rally is run over 6 days with 38 separate stages and covers some of the most interesting and challenging roads in Tasmania. We decided to check out Stage 8, which travelled through Western Creek, about 20 minutes from where we are camped at Deloraine. Jamie has been working on Targa since he joined Southern Cross TV. He co-ordinates all the images which come in each day and puts together a ‘package’ for the evening news. At the end of the event, he edits and produces the official DVD. As you can imagine, he loves the show and looks forward to it each year. Stage 8 is a 4.78Km stage which covers a pleasant country road with some tricky corners. The road is closed to all traffic from 12.16pm and not opened again until about 4.15. The plan is to get in before the closure, find a good viewing point, and have all the food and drink needed for the afternoon. We were lucky enough to find a little church, with ample parking, a good view of one of the fast straight stretches and, most importantly, a toilet! We shared the space with some keen enthusiasts, driving 2 Porsches and a Jensen Interceptor. The cars were fantastic, and ranged from classics from the 1930’s up to state-of-the-art Lamborghinis. I was pleased to see a 1961 Vauxhall Cresta, similar to one we owned in the early-1970s, and a 1962 Mini, the same model as our first car which I bought new in 1962. At that time, all Minis were imported and could be told apart from the later Australian-built models by the fact that the high-beam indicator light was blue in the imports and red in the locals. Sadly, the Mini was stolen from outside our house in 1966 and was found later in Katoomba after being raced at Bathurst. When it was found it had no petrol, no oil, and no water in it. Even after a lot of repairs, it was never the same car. As the day wore on, the cars became faster and faster until the last few were simply screaming past us. The Lamborghini of Jason White had flames shooting out of the rear as it as it roared past. What a treat for all the repressed racing-car drivers who follow the rally from town to town. When the faster cars made their appearance, a helicopter arrived with a cameraman strapped on outside the door. The cars travelled about 500m from the start, into a left-hand turn and when they straightened up again, they saw this helicopter at their eye level moving backwards away from them. Unless they were expecting this to happen, it would have been a terrible shock. Jamie tells me the pilot is a Scotsman and as mad as a cut snake. You would need to be to fly like that. I think about the cameraman who just has to grin and bear it. And, up there, is there anyone to hear him scream? When the ‘copter buzzed us, we could see the cameraman’s bare knees hanging in mid-air. I don’t think I would have chosen to wear shorts if I knew I would be tied to the outside of a helicopter. There will be 8 more stages tomorrow, including the notorious Sidelings stage which always sees some cars coming to grief. We’ll probably head for Longford in the afternoon for the final stage which is around the streets of the town.

The Wild Wood …..

Wow! What a place! As I mentioned, I knew about this place called the Wild Wood but had never visited it and now I see what I have missed. There is a definite walk around the perimeter of the area, which seems to have been built by the local riding community. There are various jumps; some look fairly derelict but others show signs of recent refurbishment. There’s clearly been a lot of hard physical labour expended here.

I don’t know whether the riders still use the area but the tracks are clear and don’t show signs of being taken back by the forest. I didn’t notice any signs of horse manure. The recent rains and warm weather have encouraged grass so there are nice patches of lush green

I notice that the local council call it the Myrtle Walk but I thought the predominant tree was the sycamore or maple and there are too many willows as well. The original trees must have been planted so this was probably part of a farm in the early days. There are sycamores elsewhere along the riverbank including in the caravan park.

At one point, there is a nicely formed stone drain so some of the stormwater from the Deloraine township must be diverted through here. A curved section of the river has been cut off by a concrete culvert, forming an artificial billabong, now stagnant and unpleasant. The area is also infested with blackberries and other weeds. It would certainly take a lot of energy to control these invaders but it would be important, I think, to have a go at the willows which choke the river and slow the flow.

If I were a kid again, I can imagine that I’d never be out of this area. I noticed great places for camping, having a campfire, fishing, cubby houses, tree houses, and so on. Do kids do these things today or are we too frightened to let them out of our sight? Maybe they’re more interested in virtual reality on their computers than true reality in the outdoors.

One of the caravans which arrived in the park this morning had two boys in it – 12 or 13 years old and full of energy. When the car stopped, they jumped out and began trying to get rid of the pent-up energy without thought or direction. After they had run around for a bit, they grabbed sticks and started bashing one of the barbecues. One of them also started pulling chunks of bark from an old pine tree. Then they started chucking rocks and sticks in the river and, when they saw the ducks, they became the target. That sort of energy can’t be controlled by sitting in front of a computer monitor.

A mysterious letter …..
About half way around the track, there seems to be a ford across the river. The track widens and forms a sort of sandy beach. There’s a large log fallen there which makes a good place to sit. At that spot today, there was a little piece of paper stuck to the ground by a twig. It’s been there since Saturday but is still readable because there’s been no rain. In case you can’t read the note in the photograph, it says:

To Dear Levi, long memories ago. My love, we made it now it’s our childrens deservant go. Always, Raindrop (Ruthie) 2 April 11.

An interesting note! Sherlock Holmes might notice the correct use of the apostrophe in it’s (pretty rare today!) and the fact that it’s missing from childrens. Also, the word deservant is unusual. It’s probably not a real word but we know what it means. What’s the story behind this poignant note? I suppose the spot held some significance for Raindrop, but where is Levi? Our imagination can fill in the blanks in many different ways but who knows what the truth might be.

Monday, 4th April …..

Well, things have turned full-circle and we find ourselves back in Deloraine, enjoying beautiful sunshine on the banks of the Meander River. When we came back from Bruny Island, we took the caravan again to Myrtle Park but we had a couple of very cold nights and found that the diesel heater didn’t work effectively if we weren’t plugged in to the 240v electricity. I’m sure it’s not a fault of the heater itself but the water pump in the caravan has been groaning and grumbling and I think there is some sort of leakage of power. Anyway, the pump will be replaced while we are away on the cruise and, in the meantime, we are having th benefit of unlimited power.

We thought we would go back to Hadspen, where we spent most of last winter, but they wanted $35 per night, as opposed to $27 when we were there last. When Marilyn queried the increase, the cheeky girl on the phone said it was supply and demand – there were a couple of events on in Launceston and everyone wanted space. Fair enough! We can reduce the ‘demand’ by going somewhere else so we have booked in to the Apex Caravan Park in Deloraine. $150 per week is much more reasonable and it is a much nicer park, right on the banks of the river with the town a short walk away. This picture shows where we sit at Cocktail Hour, contemplating the inexorable movement of the river. We bought the little folding bicycle in Kmart for $40 and it’s great for zooming around the park.

While we are here, we will be able to sort out the clothes we will need for the cruise, which leaves in under two weeks. There is not much in the caravan which will be suitable for the voyage.

I had forgotten that there is a railway line running along the boundary of the park, about 20m from where we sleep. Last night, there were three trains went through and another one mid-morning today. Marilyn heard nothing last night and she believes she is a light sleeper. No doubt she would wake if she heard a baby crying, or one of the girls in the boarding house creeping around after lights-out, but a train has no significance in her world view so she can afford to ignore it.

I suppose it’s good to hear trains coming through, even at 2 o’clock in the morning. For too many years, Tasmania’s railway has been a joke. The last private operator, Pacific National pulled out last year, leaving the State Government to pick up the pieces and deal with the huge debt. The infrastructure is run-down and the rolling stock inadequate and the only way it can pick itself up is to carry as much freight as possible (no passengers have been carried since the early-1970s). I don’t know what was on the trains last night but this morning’s noisy intruder had 4 engines and about 50 containers. That will keep 25 trucks off the road, at least.

Thinking about passenger trains reminds me of a school trip I did when I first came to Tasmania in 1975. There might have been one regular passenger service at the time, linking Hobart with Launceston (the Tasman Limited), but for our excursion, we had to hire a train to take us to Mt Field National Park. It was a hot and dry day and, when the carriages were loaded, the guard cam around and locked us in. I remember, most of us were affected by hay-fever from the dusty carriages and the hop fields at Bushy Park. We only got relief when we let the spray from Russell Falls wash our faces.

This afternoon, I intend to explore an area nearby which is owned by the Rotary Club. I’ve been a member of the club for ten tears and have never walked in what we call the Wild Wood (shades of Pooh Bear!). The club has had a long tradition of looking after the river bank and we have built two footbridges and developed picnic areas for the community. The Wild Wood is, apparently, used by horse riders so it must be quite a large area. Somehow, the club maintains it but I’ve never been to a working bee. Maybe, they’re held in working hours and I’ve never been available.
As I type this, I can hear another train coming. Four engines again but with a much longer line of containers. Railways are alive and well in Tasmania, and that can only be a good thing.