6 January 2008
Hi to all as we sail around the northern tip of Cuba,
As previously announced, we stopped at San Blas for a few hours. I felt like I’d been asleep at the switch somewhere along the way when I read in the ship’s daily bulletin that San Blas’s real name is Kuna Yala in the country of Comarca. Apparently this little country gained its independence in 1925 and the country of Comarca was formed. The mainland of Comarca is a thin stretch of land nestled up against Columbia along the Atlantic Coast. Comarca is the home of the Kuna Indians. Mmost of the Kuna Indian population lives on the mainland. Around forty of the country’s 360 distinct islands are inhabited by the Kuna Indians. Kuna Yala (San Blas) was the island that we visited.
About twenty years ago I visited this same island. With the exception of a cell phone that I spotted being used by one of the male natives wearing a tee shirt, nothing else seems changed. Diminutive ladies sat outside their huts on stools or their haunches hawking their brightly colored mulas to visitors from our ship. The oldest of the women all seemed to have pipes clutched between their teeth but I didn’t see any smoke involved. There seemed to be more little kids running around then I remembered. The walls of huts lining the narrow dirt streets between the huts all displayed mulas of every conceivable design. If there was any thing new among the mulas, it was probably the tee shirts with mulas that I didn’t remember from my earlier visit.
The little ladies and the children all held their hands out whenever a camera was pointed in their direction. Only the truly crass among my fellow passengers took pictures of people without leaving a dollar behind for the privilege. I found a tee shirt I liked and bought it. Unfortunately, the mula makers have decided that only men wear mula tee shirts so none of the females on my gift list will receive a mula tee shirt.
Okay, so I’ve used the word “mula” several times now. The colorful and intricately sewn mulas are an important part of the traditional dress of the kuna women. Mulas are made from store bought fabrics consisting of multiple layers of reverse applique. If you know what an applique is you probably will have little difficulty with reverse applique. If applique is foreign to your vocabulary, you’re in trouble. Molas were originally used as blouses. Now they serve as tablecloths, mitts, wall directions, and, of course, tourist souvenirs. By observation, the latter item seems to be the main direction of this highly productive cottage (make that hut) industry.
My pictures depict the most native of scenes with huts made with palm branch roofs and bamboo walls. Indeed, the people we saw at Kuna Yala (San Blas) actually live this way. However, in recent years small air strips have been built on some of the major islands and contact with the mainland cities such as Panama City has expanded the world for the Kuna Indians. We were told not to be surprised if we saw youth wearing sneakers, baseball caps, shorts and tee shirts. Civilization has expanded to Comarca. Kuna Sala even has a palm thatched bamboo walled bar called the Kuna Yala Hard Rock Café!
An overnight sail took us next to Puerto Limon, Costa Rica. Puerto Limon is Costa Rica’s major Caribbean sea port. Unlike the rest of Costa Rica, Puerto Limon’s population of 60,000 includes a sizeable representation of descendants of Jamaican and Chinese immigrants. Spanish is the official language in Costa Rica but many people speak English and French as well. The Caribbean coast of Costa Rica consists of thick tropical jungles and sprawling banana plantations. Heavy rainfall is the expected weather.
Costa Rica gained its independence in 1821 along with most of the other Central American countries. It has had a peaceful democratic history except for a a brief period in 1948 when the constitution was abolished and a military dictatorship took over. A year later a new constitution was adopted and the army was permanently abolished.
Costa Rica was first sighted by Christopher Columbus who gave it its name meaning “Rich Coast” in 1502. Colonization was relatively bloodless compared to other Central American countries. The area was mainly inhabited by Indian farmer who eventually died out when introduced to European diseases. The first capital city Cartago was established in 1563. Eventually the capital was moved to San Jose in 1737 were it remains today.
After independence in 1821, the government sought goods that could be exported and taxed for revenue. It was decided that Coffee was such a product. The government offered free land to coffee growers thus building a land owning class. The prosperity brought by coffee exportation since the 1850’s resulted in the expansion of all of Costa Rica.
As soon as we were cleared by customs, I decided to take a walk on shore to explore the little town of Puerto Limon. The town is directly adjacent to the port so that within a few blocks I was in the center of town. Puerto Limon is a small storybook town that one would expect to find in the middle of the coastal jungles of Costa Rica. There are no multi storied office buildings to signify advanced civilization; piles of garbage at street corners on Sunday awaited the Monday morning garbage truck; weekend lounging by men of all ages looked absolutely correct and little traffic marred the peacefulness of the morning. The bell in the town church tolled periodically to nudge residents to come to worship with few paying much attention. Shops were opening slowly at ten in the morning making it obvious that the owners weren’t anxious to rush the day.
My day became special when a thirteen year old boy named Jose started walking along side of me. He stammered trying to use a few English words that he had learned in school. He may have been encouraged by his teacher to talk to the tourists to practice English. A few minutes later, Ricardo, 14, and Stephano , 15, joined us. For the next hour the threesome followed my wanderings chatting with me about whatever came to mind. If they got into something I didn’t understand I would offer my “no comprende” and they would change the subject. When we passed an ice cream shop the boys looked longingly through the window with noses pressed against the glass. I opened the door and invited them in. We each selected our favorite flavors and ordered four cupas de helado. The boys had been trained well at home because each offered a gracious and somewhat flowery thank you when we left the shop. I don’t know why I got such a kick out of the hour we spent together but I did. I guess that once a teacher - always a teacher. When the boys left they thanked me again calling me El Ayudero de Santa Claus( Santa‘s Hel;er). I guess they don’t see many white beards.
When we leave Puerto Limon this afternoon, the Pacific Princess will make a bee line to Fort Lauderdale where we will end our 26 day cruise. Between now and then, I will have three one hour bridge lectures each morning and a two hour duplicate game to manage each afternoon. My cruising schedule will not begin again until June 20; six mnths that I’m really looking forward to before I’m back in the cruising business again. Tell me again………this was a good idea wasn’t it?
This will be my last BLOG for this trip. I’ve enjoyed sharing my travels with you all,
My love to each and every one,
Grandpa Bill, Dad and Barnacle Bill
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
4 January 2008
4 January 2008
Hello to all from the Panama Canal,
New Years celebration on board ship can be the event of a life time. I’ll admit to have had a few New Years that tended to be a bit on the raucous side but our Pacific Princess event topped them all. As one might well suspect, about a third of the 620 passengers turned in long before the ball started to drop at Times Square. Since we were in the same time zone as New York, we watched that ball closely and were well ready to make some crazy noise when it finally began its descent.
New Years Eve dining was accompanied with a full array of hats and noise makers and they were all in use as soon as the dinner wine began to flow. Who knew that adults well pass the child rearing and supporting years could enjoy acting thirty years younger with such zest and gusto. We certainly did! As we arrived for our late sitting dinner, the early sitting crowd was drifting toward the show lounge blowing their horns with hats askew and laughter galore. We must have appeared a sober sided bunch as we made our way around the revelers toward the dining room. It didn’t take our late sitting group long, however, once the hats at our places were donned and the horns tested to see who could make the loudest most prolonged blast. From that point, spirits rose higher as our pre dinner cocktails began to do their job and the dinner wine was poured for the first round.
After dinner we were entertained by a fifty something girl singer who sang the oldies with enough meaning to make some in our sotted group to shed a tear or so for loves of the past and hope of love in the future. She was great and we stumbled to our feet to clap long and hard enough to get her to come back for a wonderful encore of something you would all recognize if I could only remember the tune. The moment I will remember for a long time!
After the show, the crowd pushed its way to the tenth deck “Pacific Lounge” where the main event of the year’s passing was already underway. A marvelous band played danceable music that could only be heard when you were within ten or twelve from the band stand. Revelers horns were now in full serenade with non stop tooting from all corners of the room. Our assigned dinner guests had all promised to meet so that our new friendship could be bonded with a New Year’s toast. Only one of the couples seem to be in the room as we search ut our group. A quickie dance with the one lady who made it and Marty and I secured ourselves for the fifteen minute wait until midnight. I obtained a cocktail from somewhere and waited the magic moment. It arrived, more horns blasted even more fervently than before, couples around the room embraced, friends shook hands, we all tossed serpentines provided by our host and I sulked back to the loneliness of my room as Marty continued his search for someone who wanted to hear about his last forty-five cruises.
Dawn came up despite the plea of the previous night’s revelers and we met yet another day at sea. As I walked around the ship and greeted strangers but ship mates with “Happy New Year”, I half expected that the staff would have taken down all of the Christmas trees during the night. Not so. Nothing had changed. Ten o’clock brought another group to the lectures that Marty and I present and at two o’clock our usual group of eight tables showed up for afternoon bridge. We were back to business as usual.
On January 2 our primary item of business was to get Marty off of the Pacific Princess, on a flight from Manta to Quito so that he could catch a flight to Miami and his next cruise assignment. All was in order except that the reservation that I had made for Marty to fly from Manta to Quito, Ecuador was one that required confirmation on December 29. I had given the memo that friend Bob Athenour had sent regarding arrangements he had made for me to Marty. Marty didn’t have the memo and we didn’t have the all most impossible to get telephone number that we had to call. I think the plane Marty was going to fly in was a crop duster or something of the same ilk. When the day of departure arrived, we still didn’t have assurance that Marty’s flight was in place. Then we were told that some land tours had to be cancelled because of a planned strike and demonstration near the air port. We weren’t at all sure of anything. Fortunately, one of the crew on the administrative staff listened to our plight and she shared the problem with a port agent who came aboard. He checked things out and all was well. He even gave Marty a lift to the airport. A wonderful example of Ecuadorian helpfulness that until now we had been assured didn’t exist. I later received an email from Marty’s mother in Woodlake, Florida assuring me that Marty made his Miami flight, arrived Miami at midnight, caught a train to woodlake and arrived at 7:30 AM, had an hour long visit with his mother along with breakfast, exchanged suitcases so that he had fresh clothes and formal wear for his pending 58 day cruise around South America, caught another train to Fort Lauderdale and made his Holland America Cruise Ship, the something Dam, before it sailed away. (Holland America ships all have names with two words, the second being Dam. Bet you didn’t know that!)
Yesterday I was on my own with the bridge program for the first time. For the past 12 days of bridge, I lectured beginning bridge players while Marty lectured to advanced players. Yesterday I began a series of lectures on nuts and bolts that should appeal to both level of players. Lectures are in the morning from 10 to 11 while games are after lunch from 2 to 4. The cruises that Marty and I will work in the future will have far less sea days and thus far fewer lectures and games. The forty-eight days we will have in the Baltics will produce no more than twelve games and perhaps only eight.
Today we are transiting the Panama Canal. This is my fourth trip through the locks so I really couldn’t get too excited. Once involved in the process though, it’s hard to ignore it. I remember my (step)grandfather Dohoney telling about his friend’s experiences working on the canal and how he regretted passing up on opportunity as a very young man to operate a steam shovel on “the big dig”.
I recall the first time I went through the canal shooting up gobs of 35mm film each hour. Nothing has really changed since my first passage. Panama City( or Balboa if you prefer), a city now of 2,000,000 still sits at the western entrance along with the Bridge to Americas which carries its part of the Pan American Highway as it makes its way from Canada to Chile. To think, one could drive north from here and wind up on Interstate 5.
Tonight we will have a brief stop at Colon ( or Cristobal if you prefer. Panama is still trying to decide what to name its two major cities) and then we will head back to sea for a short trip to San Blas Island. The last time I was at San Blas I was cruising on a small ship that had a bow lander. When we arrived at San Blas, the ship drove its bow into the sandy beach and the crew winched out a thirty foot gang way that we simply walked down onto the beach. I doubt that the Pacific Princess with her 30,227 tons will do any beach ramming but it would be a new form of excitement around here if she did. Who knows, with a little luck…………………………….
Love and kisses to each and everyone,
Grandpa Bill, Dad, Barnacle Bill
Hello to all from the Panama Canal,
New Years celebration on board ship can be the event of a life time. I’ll admit to have had a few New Years that tended to be a bit on the raucous side but our Pacific Princess event topped them all. As one might well suspect, about a third of the 620 passengers turned in long before the ball started to drop at Times Square. Since we were in the same time zone as New York, we watched that ball closely and were well ready to make some crazy noise when it finally began its descent.
New Years Eve dining was accompanied with a full array of hats and noise makers and they were all in use as soon as the dinner wine began to flow. Who knew that adults well pass the child rearing and supporting years could enjoy acting thirty years younger with such zest and gusto. We certainly did! As we arrived for our late sitting dinner, the early sitting crowd was drifting toward the show lounge blowing their horns with hats askew and laughter galore. We must have appeared a sober sided bunch as we made our way around the revelers toward the dining room. It didn’t take our late sitting group long, however, once the hats at our places were donned and the horns tested to see who could make the loudest most prolonged blast. From that point, spirits rose higher as our pre dinner cocktails began to do their job and the dinner wine was poured for the first round.
After dinner we were entertained by a fifty something girl singer who sang the oldies with enough meaning to make some in our sotted group to shed a tear or so for loves of the past and hope of love in the future. She was great and we stumbled to our feet to clap long and hard enough to get her to come back for a wonderful encore of something you would all recognize if I could only remember the tune. The moment I will remember for a long time!
After the show, the crowd pushed its way to the tenth deck “Pacific Lounge” where the main event of the year’s passing was already underway. A marvelous band played danceable music that could only be heard when you were within ten or twelve from the band stand. Revelers horns were now in full serenade with non stop tooting from all corners of the room. Our assigned dinner guests had all promised to meet so that our new friendship could be bonded with a New Year’s toast. Only one of the couples seem to be in the room as we search ut our group. A quickie dance with the one lady who made it and Marty and I secured ourselves for the fifteen minute wait until midnight. I obtained a cocktail from somewhere and waited the magic moment. It arrived, more horns blasted even more fervently than before, couples around the room embraced, friends shook hands, we all tossed serpentines provided by our host and I sulked back to the loneliness of my room as Marty continued his search for someone who wanted to hear about his last forty-five cruises.
Dawn came up despite the plea of the previous night’s revelers and we met yet another day at sea. As I walked around the ship and greeted strangers but ship mates with “Happy New Year”, I half expected that the staff would have taken down all of the Christmas trees during the night. Not so. Nothing had changed. Ten o’clock brought another group to the lectures that Marty and I present and at two o’clock our usual group of eight tables showed up for afternoon bridge. We were back to business as usual.
On January 2 our primary item of business was to get Marty off of the Pacific Princess, on a flight from Manta to Quito so that he could catch a flight to Miami and his next cruise assignment. All was in order except that the reservation that I had made for Marty to fly from Manta to Quito, Ecuador was one that required confirmation on December 29. I had given the memo that friend Bob Athenour had sent regarding arrangements he had made for me to Marty. Marty didn’t have the memo and we didn’t have the all most impossible to get telephone number that we had to call. I think the plane Marty was going to fly in was a crop duster or something of the same ilk. When the day of departure arrived, we still didn’t have assurance that Marty’s flight was in place. Then we were told that some land tours had to be cancelled because of a planned strike and demonstration near the air port. We weren’t at all sure of anything. Fortunately, one of the crew on the administrative staff listened to our plight and she shared the problem with a port agent who came aboard. He checked things out and all was well. He even gave Marty a lift to the airport. A wonderful example of Ecuadorian helpfulness that until now we had been assured didn’t exist. I later received an email from Marty’s mother in Woodlake, Florida assuring me that Marty made his Miami flight, arrived Miami at midnight, caught a train to woodlake and arrived at 7:30 AM, had an hour long visit with his mother along with breakfast, exchanged suitcases so that he had fresh clothes and formal wear for his pending 58 day cruise around South America, caught another train to Fort Lauderdale and made his Holland America Cruise Ship, the something Dam, before it sailed away. (Holland America ships all have names with two words, the second being Dam. Bet you didn’t know that!)
Yesterday I was on my own with the bridge program for the first time. For the past 12 days of bridge, I lectured beginning bridge players while Marty lectured to advanced players. Yesterday I began a series of lectures on nuts and bolts that should appeal to both level of players. Lectures are in the morning from 10 to 11 while games are after lunch from 2 to 4. The cruises that Marty and I will work in the future will have far less sea days and thus far fewer lectures and games. The forty-eight days we will have in the Baltics will produce no more than twelve games and perhaps only eight.
Today we are transiting the Panama Canal. This is my fourth trip through the locks so I really couldn’t get too excited. Once involved in the process though, it’s hard to ignore it. I remember my (step)grandfather Dohoney telling about his friend’s experiences working on the canal and how he regretted passing up on opportunity as a very young man to operate a steam shovel on “the big dig”.
I recall the first time I went through the canal shooting up gobs of 35mm film each hour. Nothing has really changed since my first passage. Panama City( or Balboa if you prefer), a city now of 2,000,000 still sits at the western entrance along with the Bridge to Americas which carries its part of the Pan American Highway as it makes its way from Canada to Chile. To think, one could drive north from here and wind up on Interstate 5.
Tonight we will have a brief stop at Colon ( or Cristobal if you prefer. Panama is still trying to decide what to name its two major cities) and then we will head back to sea for a short trip to San Blas Island. The last time I was at San Blas I was cruising on a small ship that had a bow lander. When we arrived at San Blas, the ship drove its bow into the sandy beach and the crew winched out a thirty foot gang way that we simply walked down onto the beach. I doubt that the Pacific Princess with her 30,227 tons will do any beach ramming but it would be a new form of excitement around here if she did. Who knows, with a little luck…………………………….
Love and kisses to each and everyone,
Grandpa Bill, Dad, Barnacle Bill
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