Si, see sea

"translating dreams into reality 
means a lot of practical questions have to be answered.
"

Jimmy Cornell 

In the serene endless blue haze of our 'sea days', my long forgotten dream of crossing the Atlantic, by boat, came true.  Perhaps it wasn't the grandiose, teeth barring, grimace against the elements I had imagined all those years ago.  There was no salty burn and aching muscles from being part of a sailing crew on a small yacht.  But, as I mentally ticked the voyage off my bucket list, I concluded my accomplishment was no less meaningful because it was achieved on board a luxury liner.  It was just less dramatic.

“The sea! the sea! the open sea!, 

The blue, the fresh, the ever free!”

Bryan W. Procter

Even in the lap of luxury, slipping through the calm waters and clear skies, I still experienced some fair weather panicky moments.  The expansiveness was overwhelming.  I tried not to think too hard about being on a 1020ft long ship in 41 million square miles of ocean.  I found it best not to dwell on the insignificance of my existence in the vastness of the Atlantic, the second biggest body of water on a tiny blue planet spinning through a boundless universe.  To avoid being sucked into an agoraphobic vacuum of neurosis, I concentrated on the small routines of daily life and the inner world of the ship.  

For five full days I saw no other signs of life outside of our floating Royal Caribbean Community.  The isolation of the boat reminded me of a long haul flight, where instead of water creating the seclusion, it is 40,000 ft of air.  Although, when I'm trapped in a pressurized tin tube hurtling along at 500 mph, the tight ball of anxiety I hide in the overhead locker is claustrophobia. 

Planet of the Towels

The only thing stashed in our boat locker were towels and every night a different creature emerged in our cabin, alarmingly they were evolving into a much more humanoid form.  One evening, after our usual early dinner dining, I came 'home' to find the cotton ape had donned pajamas and climbed into my bed. 

Five days blurred quickly into a routine of meals and activities.  We became finely honed, hunter gatherers at the buffet, ranging around, scrutinizing the full display of offerings before swooping in and filling a plate with favorite flavors or new dishes.  When English style bacon was introduced at the Windjammer breakfast I knew we were on the home straight to Southampton.  

In an effort to break the bliss, every morning I insisted on an hour of math before we indulged in the water painting class.

In the afternoons, the kids swam between the pool and the hot tub and free fed at the frozen yoghurt stand.  I tried to exercise off the onslaught of desserts that I had finally surrendered to.  I alternated between spinning class, yoga, pilates and running around the open air track on the top deck.  I think it was around day 4 when I finally threw my head back, breathed in the open sky and embraced my tiny place in the world.  In an azure epiphany, I had conquered my anablephobic tendencies and concluded that I needed very little in life to make me happy.  A little love, a slice of back bacon for breakfast and a sprinkle of salt on the wind.

"At sea I learned how little a person needs, not how much.
"  
Robin Lee Graham

Return of Red Stripe

 

“On such a full sea are we now afloat.  

And we must take the current”

William Shakespeare

Captain Urlich wished us all a "Gut Morning".  He informed us we had cruised a total of 1186 nautical miles since leaving Miami and to look port side for our first glimpse of St Marteen.   

For our time ashore on this tiny island we had decided to hit the beach in Philipsburg.  This would be our last port of call before crossing the Atlantic Ocean.

Sister Ships

I counted a total of five cruise ships ahead of us so the approach into the harbor was slow going.  We watched the floating gas tanker come alongside and refuel our boat while we had breakfast and waited to dock alongside our sister ship “Freedom of the Seas”. 

We wandered along the concrete wharf with hordes of other tourists.  Our mass tourism flow was cleverly channeled past the market stalls and food kiosks towards the direction of the boat tenders.  We took a small detour at the fountain for photos.  Dolphin fountains always make me homesick and my thoughts wandered to far away friends and family.  My joy of travelling is always tempered by the absence of loved ones. 

Captain Hodge Pier

For seven dollars we bought an "all day rider" boat ticket which would allow us unlimited trips to town and back.  It was the slickest boat operation I had seen in a long time. Along with 150 or so of my new best cruising friends, we were rounded up and herded in the direction of an over sized catamaran. I quickly calculated the revenue being siphoned off us docile cruise cows for the few hundred meters boat ride into ‘town’. Today alone, assuming at least 2000 passengers alighted per boat, with 6 vessels at 7 bucks a piece…mmm. We arrived at the wooden jetty before I could figure out the profit margins.

Great Bay Beach

The beaches were already crowded and we walked along the promenade alongside the beach side cafés searching for waterfront sun loungers.  A friendly lady who introduced herself as Marcia managed to talk me into sitting on her section of the beach with the promise of free Wifi at Captain Jacks.  The price?  Twenty-five dollars.  The price of the 2 towels Marcia’s friend tried to sell me?  Twenty-five dollars.  The price of the massage Marcia’s friend’s friend wanted me to purchase?  The starting price for everything was twenty-five dollars.  Although, for Wifi in the shade and a lounger with a view of the bluest sea ever, it was totally worth it.

Red Stripe Lager Fan

A couple of hours later when the buzz of the jet skis reached crescendo I succumbed to the one of the waiter’s who offered to fetch a bucket of beers.   I cracked open my first Red Stripe Lager in a long time and continued to drink beer while a wide array of vendors shuffled by with hopes of having me part with my dollar.  The people watching was supreme. My favorite events were when the local hair braiders intruded on each other’s territory and then were loudly chased off the ‘turf’.

"Cock your hat - angles are attitudes."

Frank Sinatra

Feeling a little hungry we went in search of food one street back into Voorstreet.  The market and backstreet shops had a disorganized, desperate feel to them.  We decided not to try the local goat curry in fear of taking Nora virus back on board to our 3000 plus shipmates.

 

Returning beach side, the wind had picked up and lying on the lounger had become a lot harder, I was forced to stretch out my hand to hold the umbrella during occasional breezy gusts.  It was all too exhausting, it would be far easier to return to the sanctuary of the mother ship and a much less windy Wind Jammer Cafe.  However, I felt a little reticent pinging back through the security system at the gang plank knowing we faced 5 full sea days on our way north to Ponta Delgada in the Azores. 

 "And thou shalt in thy daughter see,

This picture, once resembled thee."

Ambrose Philips

Rich Port

Puerto Rico / Rich Port

"Adventure of the Seas" cruised past the old stone fort sited on the headland and into the protection of Bahia de San Juan.  While standing on board a 1000ft cruise liner it was hard to imagine Christopher Columbus, 500 years ago, when he sailed here in a 60ft wooden caravel. He claimed the island for Spain and named it Rich Port - Puerto Rico.  

Model replica of the Santa Maria, Columbus's flagship

The Santa Maria never returned to Spain, it was wrecked on a coral reef off the coast of Haiti when the 13 year old helmsmen,  fell asleep while navigating.  

The only thing these almost 13 year olds were steering towards was a cup of hot chocolate before we went ashore for the day.  Columbus was supposedly the first European to taste cocoa, but I bet he didn't add quite as many marshmallows as my kids.  Leaning out over the rail, as we approached the dock, I was charmed by the eclectic colonial mix of old and new.  I understood why the Spanish called it “Isla del Encanto” - “Island of Enchantment”.  

San Juan Cruise Port 

We tied up alongside our sister ship "Freedom of the Seas". However, I realized there would be little independence or liberation with over 6000 passengers scrambling to get ashore.

The kids, of course, started complaining long before we even shuffled down the gang plank.  I noted the heavy lines at the bottleneck of immigration ahead.  Clutching my plastic ID tag tighter than the kids we pushed our way out of the air conditioned port terminal. With the midday temperature pushing towards 33C (92F) I clenched my teeth as the sun began to sear my scalp.  The line for the city tour was longer than Kmart on black Friday and I was relieved that we had opted for free range wandering in the old city.  

Wandering the streets of Old San Juan

I tried to imagined this place without the crowds, the clog of tourist buses and man made infrastructure.  It was difficult to peel back the centuries to when the island was the home of the Taino Indians. They called it "Borinquen" meaning “The land of the Valiant Lord”. Few traces of the Indians remain, their culture was obliterated by slavery and European diseases. 

I was also starting to feel wiped out as a headache clawed at my brow.  The heat was as claustrophobic as the narrow streets.  With sweat trickling down my spine and my hair sticking to the back of my neck I wondered where I could buy a hat? We wound through the cursory market stalls cluttered around the port, swept along in the mass tourism stampede.  I greeted each vendor in Spanish and they promptly replied in English using well practiced phrases to convince me to part with my dollar.  They simply saw me as one of the many cash cows that had floated ashore on the morning tide.  Perhaps the lunchtime café would give me the meaningful connection with a Puerto Rican I was looking for. 

Green Peace

Ordering a zucchini mint smoothie restored my inner green peace. But I was still left disconnected as the busy cafe staff had no time to chat. I had to accept I was merely part of the cruise ship herd, frantically lurching between forts and frozen yoghurt cafes. The only real connection I made was with the free wifi.

Colonial Spanish Architecture

I love old cities and given the chance will café hop, bouncing around inside old city walls marveling at the architecture with the forward planning of a pinball.  

However, I realized the kids needed a more structured approach with a map and itinerary.  So we followed the flags in the direction of the fort.  I tried to comprehend what it meant to be Puerto Rican.  The first 400 years of colonization was Spanish and the influence is clearly evident in the language architecture and people.  Then over a century ago Puerto Rico became an American territory, the only one to have Spanish as an official language. 

I struggled to understand what it meant to be an "incorporated territory".  Puerto Ricans choose their own governor and pay some federal taxes but have no representation in Congress.  This quirky citizenship status means they can compete in Olympics in their own right and Puerto Rico has won Miss Universe five times.

Founded by Christopher Columbus on his second voyage to the Americas, San Juan is the oldest city in American Territory.  It was fitting that we hung out for a while by his statue.  Well technically the craft market at the base of the marble effigy.  When my kids decided my shopping time had expired we headed over to visit one of the forts.

Castillo of San Cristobal

The stone walls were still incredibly strong thick considering this impregnable structure was over 250 years old. It had been used as a defensive base by the Spanish and Americans.

Fort lookout

Peering through the narrow window slit out to sea I rested against the coolness of the rock. I was brushing shoulders with history as my eyes scanned the same view that hundreds of sentries had done over the ages.

Tunnel to the inner courtyard

Under the fort, secret passages or Galleries protected soldiers from enemy fire and allowed them to move around unseen by the enemy.  We descended through the tunnel into the cool bowels of the castle and down to the dungeon.  Once inside we closed the solid door of the narrow cell and the blackness was soul destroying.

500 year old dungeon graffiti

The horror of imagining life as a prisoner left to die in the dark only receded when the cell was flooded with light again.  I noticed drawings etched into the rock and the ghosts of sailors past leapt off the walls.  These captured men had left the mark of their existence by scratching a message into the future.

I needed to get out of the claustrophobia of the dark past and into the light of modern conveniences.  I was going to need some bad ass coffee to give me stamina to drag the kids over to the other side of the city walls.

San Juan City Walls

It was so worth the procession of complaints as we marveled at the ramparts from underneath the shade of a tree.  We re-entered the city through the San Juan Gate following the same path as the dignitaries of old who wound their way up the street to the Cathedral to thank God for a safe passage.  

San Jan Gate

Turning back the kids were stoked to be headed back towards the boat.  We had taken a comprehensive look at the old city, but the walking and the heat had taken its toll on us.  

Governor's Mansion

We managed to take a quick look at the Governor's Mansion, grab an the obligatory fountain photo and stop at Walgreens on the way back to port.  

Frowns at the Fountain

The world's largest telescope is in Puerto Rico, it determines if any asteroids are coming too close.  I wonder if it had sighted the UFO that dropped the alien towel creature on my bed?

Alien towel creature