Exactly what it is that I "do"

I get alot of questions from people to try and explain exactly what it is that I do on the ship. The answer: lots of stuff...most of which the guests dont see. But sometimes the best way to explain something is to get the answer from someone else. I just got this letter from a guest to my company, and I thought he put it quite nicely.

John wrote:

I had no idea the art auctions onboard cruise ships could be so much fun. My wife and I took our first cruise to Alaska last week where she led me to our first art auction. Initially I thought it would be boring but I would endure it to please my wife. Shortly into the auction as I listened to the auctioneer explain the nuances of each piece of art I became engrossed into his explanations of the history behind the art, the techniques used to create it, the artist himself and the value of each piece. We stayed for the whole first auction and attended each of the 2nd and last auctions buying additional art at each one. I did not expect to spend money on art during the cruise however we feel we’ve made a major change in the interior of our home as well as a good investment. Our Park West auctioneers onboard the Rhapsody of the Seas, Coleman Balogh and Tarun Rao, were both terrific in their presentation of the art as well as good honest people who were trying to both trying to educate and get the attendees interested in art as well as provide the art at very good prices. Coleman and Tarun accomplished both goals with us and we hope to see both again on future cruises.

Oz

Oz, down under, the world’s largest island. Writing from so far away, Australia seems simply a part of the collective experience. But what a collective experience, and what a thing to be simply included. I’ve finally reached a point that is as far as possible from everything I have ever known. Such a journey this has been. Such a different person it has made me. I’ve sailed the greatest of the seven seas, and seen even more ends of the Earth.

Now I must explain that Sydney was really my only experience of Australia and I will in no way try to argue that this is a proper representation of the continent of Australia. However, I have great faith in the fact that Sydney is one of the best representations of that continent. How fun to sign off a seven month contract and spend 9 days in the mecca of awesomeness for Oceania? First of all, I stayed up all night on the ship the night before. I had packing to do, yes, and end of cruise paperwork, and all that, but I just took it at an easy pace. I was too excited to sleep. I finished all that was left of my life on the Rhapsody at my own pace, said goodbye in my quiet way, and then waited for land. We had been at sea for a week. Those were 7 long sea days at the end. You might wonder if we had some crazy going away party or huge thing for my departure, but I don’t roll like that on the boat. I leave with a sort of quiet dignity. With a knowing smile of fondness for something that I called home for a wonderful part of my life. The Rhapsody of the Seas. A chapter in the life.
At 5:45 Laura, Jake, Lara and I met on the top deck. We could see land coming. There were hundreds of people up to see the dawning of Sydney. Its one of those things that goes beyond being pretty or beautiful to look at. This was the beauty and passion of seeing a new land, a new future, with a coming day. And for me especially, an unknown future away from the ship. The end of my first, successful contract. That weighed on me a lot too. My first after the fact moment of: “I did it.” I can do my job. One contract down and whats next?

We got cold up there so we made some hot chocolate, and then went to get breakfast. The Windjammer café sits just under the top deck, and has the same panoramic view as up top, but with biscuits and gravy on the full buffet. Here is where I saw the Sydney opera house for the very first time. We docked right next to it. Now that’s something, going outside after 7 sea days, and being AT the Sydney opera house. Not gonna lie, that impressed on me as a little bit of something cool. I’m not that easy to impress these days, but that was really a something to make a mental note of.



Getting off the ship was the most bizarre feeling of my entire contract. The most oddly comforting irritating sense of why am I not going to sleep on a boat tonight? That’s not normal, me not going back to the ship, like after I walk away right now, I wont be coming back to the boat. Oh…Really? Ohhhhhh So…what…do I do? First things first, I needed a room.

I knew I wanted to stay in King’s Cross. After all, I had been warned by multiple people NOT to go there. The hotel I had been planning to go to was not what I had expected from their website. It was a random house on the street, not a hotel, and it was locked with an unhealthily skinny man speaking some Slavic language angrily into his cell phone. When I tried to open the door he asked; “You want hotel?” and put his phone to my ear. The man on the other end clearly had no idea why a stranger would be asking him about a hotel room, so I ran away back to the cab. I ended up running into this same scary man at a club a week later, AND HE’S THE ONE WHO RECOGNIZED ME! That’s a whole nother bag of apples. It took another 20 minutes to find a place that had a single bedroom available. I suppose I’ve decided that I reached the point in my life shere I’m too good to share a hotel room with bunkmates. So I holed up in D*Lux Hostel in my own room where finally, I had a window, and after 7 months, time to myself...time off. That moment, of closing the door behind me, sitting down in a strange room, alone in a city thousands of miles away from everything, was a good moment. Peaceful. Relieving. In just a few seconds all the burden of months began to ease off my shoulders. There would be no guests after I left this room, as I, finally, was a guest myself. This was Coleman, Off.



What followed were my travels in Sydney as the traveler. Of course, wherever I went, I went under the guise of Coleman Vander Meer Balogh, International Art Auctioneer, as that IS what took me to Sydney, but really it was Coleman, convieniently shy and unashamedly curious. First things first…a four hour nap  (that’s a homage to the ever glamorous Palos Motel on Harlem that advertises their interstate famous whirlpool suites and 4 hour naps. As a child I always thought how nice that sounded. A whirlpool room for 4 hours where I can go to nap.)

After waking in a room (with a window! With trees outside of it!) I did the best thing I knew what to do when in a new place for the first time. I went for a walk. Now King’s Cross is not exactly what I would call a lovely area, I knew this in advance, but it was unexpectedly interesting. “Colorful.” There are tons of unnecessary stores like internet shops, travel centers, massage parlors, titty clubs, sex shops, costume venues, and food stations. They had Turkish pitas, Arabian falafel and pita, fried chicken, sushi trains, pizza, grills, and of course McDonalds. I usually opted for sushi train, but for that first day I went to the dandelion fountain court because they were having an outdoor food and book festival. I got some Asian and some Turkish and bought a new book, Naked Lunch. It is not an easy read. I walked down the road maybe 3 or 4 miles. I scoped out the scene, picked up some gear (including some new tank tops and a couple bottles of wine). I ran into some green conservationists and took a quiz on energy efficiency, and ended up winning a much needed green man bag made out of Sydney city banners. Neat! And then I just wandered on some more. Felt it out sort of. Sydney has a very comfortable modern feel, with just enough diversity and European heritage to not feel like any other metropolitan city. It felt a bit like Dublin…kind of London…and maybe some of Chicago as well. A good mixed feel to it. Just the sort of place to keep me entertained for a few days. Wandering home I got that sick sensation for a moment, that Oh God, I have to get to the boat…and then…it went away…the process of loss I suppose. I got it a few more times through out that trip, but it was mostly on that first day going into evening that my freedom came to me.

Of course I had to go out alone to the clubs, which is always kind of awkward. I don’t like going out alone, ok, I don’t PREFER it to going with company, but there’s no way I’m staying put in a hotel room in Sydney, AUSTRALIA. I drank some wine, geared up in my best outfit and hit the town on my own. And let me tell you this…Australians love Americans. Even if there are some out there that don’t, it don’t even matter. The ones that do love you, will find you, and it was totally worth it. Maybe I just happened to pick the right club. It wasn’t too dancy, it wasn’t too chill, it was just right…almost like that bitch with the porridge. I had a blast, and I even met a new group of friends who would go on to be a very significant part of my trip to Sydney. All on night one. If you don’t go balls out, you might as well have stayed home. I suppose being on my own has its own advantages as well. I’m fresher on my own. I don’t have to convince anyone to go anywhere special, because as most people know, I know what I like to do, and I trust my own adventurous instinct. I could always use helpful advice, even a trusty guide in some hazards, but usually I like leading the pack. And in Sydney, its lone wolf. I think I managed well enough anyway. Its funny though, my first night with a hotel room, and I didn’t even get to use it.

That next day was another one of those odd sensations. Not at sea…not on a boat, but waking up in Australia. How refreshing. Luckily that day I had a new friend to take me around. Got to see some beaches, went to a state park overlooking the bluffs that lead into Sydney harbor (I guess we weren’t in Sydney anymore), and then finally got a ride back to King’s Cross. It was a nice intro lesson to the layout of the city. That day was going to be a lazy day as well, but I wanted to do the typical thing in Sydney, which was the opera house. There were also a royal botanical garden, and the “central” Hyde Park on the way there, so I planned another long walk. But first NAPPPPppppppp.

So I again I present the image of me, as the stranger, wandering alone in the botanical gardens, the royal harbour, the main park, the reflecting pool, the “art and about” show, the grand cathedral and fountains, the aqua facility, and then finally the Sydney Opera House. They are all beautiful sights to see and witness, but there was something special for me to be on my own. They helped me to contemplate my time, reflect on who I am. In that way, like art, they teach you who you are and what culture is. I have pictures to show of course, check them out on facebook.

The next few days all sort of lazed together. I spent a lot of time online, hanging out, drinking coffee, hitting up the super convenient sushi train, and going to see the further sights of the city. I went to visit the Art Gallery of New South Wales where they have an amazing collection of pieces. I also wrote a lot of postcards here, listening to Phillip Glass as my soundtrack.
Intense Phillip Glass orchestrations in an art gallery is really a unique experience. You naturally correspond the music with the pieces you look at, synched to the music. Turn your head as the orchestra turns a corner of its own kind. It was pretty intense, but enormously inspiring. I left there with grand ideas of stories and books and possible futures. It left me excited about life, which I suppose is the whole point of traveling anyway. This was one of the best memories I have of Sydney. I continued to walk around that day for about 5 hours. Checking out the downtown area, writing more postcards, walking around the harbour, and finally I hit up an Asian noodle festival in the park (blargh!), and then decided to go see a movie. It was the first time I’d been in a movie theater in a very long time, and I enjoyed it. It’s all the “nothing” stuff I missed being away at sea. All the slow nothing time that you take granted when you don’t have a 24 hour schedule. What a relief.

That evening I watched some Australian TV before going out to party. They had Liza Minnelli on for their Australian Idol, which was hilarious, and then they advertised a Seinfeld reunion up next. What they didn’t advertise was that it was Curb Your Enthusiam! On national TV! How cool. But weird marketing. They didn’t mention anything about Curb until the episode started. Those Australians! Later they played a weird documentary about dug out living in the outback, people who carve their homes into the Earth. There was even a dugout motel. They also didn’t use your typical commercial transitions. Just a much different TV than what I’m used to. I say that Australia is like the US, but opposite. Like a mirror image of our culture. The same, but oddly different. I love it.

The next day I wasted a lot of time on the internet again, and even though I had planned to go to the beach I wanted to fed ex my business papers first. What I found, much to my frustration, was that Fed Ex had left Australia recently, and the other posting services just wouldn’t cut it. So, exasperated, I went to the park and laid out in the remainder of the day’s sun. It was OK. Afterwards I shopped for a Halloween costume I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to use that year and went back to the internet. That evening I planned on doing something a bit different…hitting up the Star City Casino! If you don’t know me, I love to gamble. More specifically, I like games. Tonight was no different. Getting to the casino was a bit of a hassle, but totally worth it. I took 300 bucks with me, suited up in my sleek black Ben Sherman track jacket, and set out for what had planned to be a couple hours of good time starting at 11pm. I left at 7 the next morning with 1100 bucks in my pocket…and a sly smile on my face.

I started with a drink, of course. I asked for a Manhattan, as this is my lucky drink, and the bartender gave me a weird look. It took him a while to make the drink, presumably he had to look it up. Theyre not “used” to people who order Manhattans. Well, get used to it. It tasted strongly of something that wasn’t a Manhattan, but I figured I’d let it slide and start on the fun. To ease into my mind frame I started on the slots. Now with slots, I know there are loose slots, and tight ones. For me, I have to find that ‘right’ one. And that night, I got lucky. It took me a good 5 minutes to search it out. It ended up having a very confusing Middle Eastern theme, and stood alone at the end of a row of ocean themed slots, all by itself. That’s got to be it. I put a twenty in the machine, it was a penny machine, and I just max betted my way to about 350 bucks. Seriously. I hit the main jackpot twice. The funniest part was that there was no one around to watch me win. I’d hit the jackpot, drink my Manhattan and just kind of laugh to myself like some old woman. I felt like a creepy old man, but I also felt great. After about an hour, I cut my losses (I was up to about 550 at one point) and headed off to play another game. Next up Roulette. Now I’m not so great with this game. I lost 100 dollars, but I played for a good hour. I saw more people loose their whole stash multiple times in that period, so I thought I did ok. Didn’t win nothing at the end, but I played the whole time. Its worth it in my eyes. And up next, my true passion, Black Jack. This was my big time at the Star City. Blackjack is a game of luck, but for me intuition. I know where my chances are, sure, where statistics lay, but there’s also the feel of the cards. I can feel the black jack, almost like a weird intuition, and I was unashamedly the most obnoxious person there. I scream when I get good cards. I have fun. Other people look sick. Like their life is on the line. No matter what, I want to have a good time. I played for hours. Screaming, yelling, and laughing the whole time. Isn’t that the point? Apparently my dealer didn’t think so. Her name was Natalia, and she was THE WORST dealer I have ever had. One of the rudest individuals in a customer service position I have ever encountered. I of course spoke to the manager about it, and I of course was hammered, but still. I considered writing a letter to the casino afterwards, and it would have gone like this:

To Whom It May Concern,

Good Day. My name is Coleman Balogh and last evening I immensely enjoyed your facilities at Star City Casino. There was one specific area of concern that I would like to bring to your attention, that of the performance and attitude of your Black Jack dealer Natalia. From the beginning of the 2 or so hours I spent with Natalia as a dealer, I was greeted with rudeness, terrible service, and an admitted disdain for the game I was currently enjoying. Upon greeting Natalia I asked her if we were going to have a fun game with her, at which she told the entire table in an Eastern European accent that she found Blackjack “boring” and couldn’t care less if we won or lost our money. After a continued awkward silence I tried to liven my own enjoyment of the game with remarks about successfully being dealt blackjack. At no point did I remark towards Natalia or her performance. None the less, anything I said was met with deliberate dirty looks from Natalia. Also, as I am American, I am not used to the slightly different rules for blackjack at your casino. If there was an action I did not understand, I was rudely told that the game we were playing was blackjack, and to not interrupt her until she was finished. She then insinuated that I am what’s “wrong” with ten dollar tables. I asked her to elaborate what she meant when she said there was something wrong with our table, and she responded “many things.” At one point she told me to not call her by her name, despite her name tag, so I was then forced to refer to her as “Dealer.” Later, after a considerable amount of winnings on my part, I tried to cash in my small chips for larger ones. She did so reluctantly and VERY slowly, complaining I had gotten the chips wet, and that I was responsible for slowing down the table. As embarrassing as this was for me as a guest at your casino, I continued the game none the less. I was winning after all. She then miscalculated my amount of chips and the manager present SAW AND COMMENTED on this and had her recount my chips so she did not give me back less than what I gave her. She again mentioned the fact that there was something “WRONG” with our table. I told her that for me things were right, as I was up a considerable amount of cash. She then told me it was probably a good idea for me to leave the table at that time. I responded that I wasn’t going anywhere, Dealer. After she left I spoke with her manager about the multiple incidents incurred while being dealt under Natalia.
Now, I myself work in a customer service environment that also has a casino. I do not work in the casino myself, but I work with their managers and marketing department. I can tell you that had one of our dealers treated a guest in such a manner, they would be instantly terminated from their role. I am in no way suggesting such actions be taken against this particular individual, but I do suggest that this dealer be addressed concerning these incidents to ensure that no other guest to your fine establishment is ever treated in such a poor way.

Thank you for your consideration,

Coleman Vander Meer Balogh

P.S. WHAT A BITCH!?!?!

The next day I mailed my shit and finally made it to the beach. I was kind of getting sick of being alone. Especially at the beach. Sure I got some sun, but it would be nice to talk to someone. I felt like I couldn’t leave my stuff to go swimming, and I also felt like a huge creeper looking at all the babes. And there were tons of them. Maybe, though, using the binoculars to stare was a bit much. Oh fuck it. Whatever. I am who I am…and I just won a grand playing black jack. So let em wonder. Also, I’m in the prime of my life. There’s no shame in going to the Aussie Bondai (!!) Beach alone.
There was a lovely sea cliff walk which went down the coast a couple of miles, so I did that for a few hours. I saw some cool sea cliffs, tidal pools with lobsters, and of course I found an amazing shore side cemetery at twilight. It was one of the most beautiful and spooky cemeteries I have even visited. I also don’t think that visiting cemeteries is at all “weird.” They are, essentially, very well kept parks, monumenting the love and adoration that individuals had for the people in their lives. They are mysterious, they are spooky, but they are also pure representations of who we are as a species. Paying homage to those who came before, remembrances of the love we shared. I think they are beautiful, sometimes sad, but also joyful. Haunting in an emotional and spiritual way. They are indeed sacred spots on this world, and I am thankful to share them. The energy simply feels different, and each plot is unique. A bit macabre, but fascinating none the less.

I’ve gotten pretty good at figuring out public transport, which I think is an accomplishment. It makes me feel like a puzzle solver, and a man of the world. Wherever I go, I can take a bus. Great job! Also, wherever I go I either take my Bahamian or Marshall Island’s Seamans book. They are records of my travels at sea and the ships I have worked on. They look just like passports, and since I keep my money in them, I take them out for people to see when I pay for stuff. I usually get a comment from people (which always strikes up a nice conversation) about where I’m from. I say I’m from the Bahamas or the Marshall Islands and people usually look at me in such a way. A way of knowing…or longing maybe. It;s an odd look, an emotion that rarely gets used. For me it;s like a spell I can cast on people. If anyone asks further, I tell them I’m an international art dealer. It’s the truth after all, well kind of. But it’s a fun part to play. I interact in people in ways I never had before. No longer am I just a tourist…I am a Traveller…an Observer. I love it. I always leave them with a kind smile and a farewell.

Against my better judgment I decided to take a tour the next day. I hadn’t really ventured out of the city and I and organized adventures, but I heard that the Blue Mountains were definitely something to see. There were tons of tours to take, but I opted for an alternative. It was advertised as a small tour, a “Walkabout” guided by an aborigine. It was nice. Different from what I expected, but worth while. I would judge it a mild success. The worst thing about it was that the small group consisted of me, the guide, and a terrible older couple from Arizona. They looked like they stepped right off the ship, wearing matching denim outfits (shirts and jeans) and identical “Australia” hats with corresponding kangaroos. It was embarrassing for me. He basically introduced himself by farting (and continued his obscene flatulence through out the walkabout) and laughing at everything he said like it was a hilarious surprise. For instance: “I guess were definitely going to see the Blue Mountains today Blargh Hahahahaha!” Yeah, I guess we will. And they also had a hard time keeping up in the difficult terrain of the “bush,” which is nobody’s fault really, but when she started to complain it was nice to hear her husband say that she knew in advance it would be difficult and insisted. The tour itself was nice, not very scenic though. It was the woods, you know? I do a lot of hiking in the woods, and I really had to push myself to remind my senses I was in another continent and not Chicagoland. On the other hand I did get a nice dose of Aborigine culture and mythos. I learned about the Rainbow Serpent (hehe), the feeling trees, dream time (an interesting concept about putting yourself into another plane of existence) and essentially the purpose of the walkabout. Luckily, our guide encouraged us to be quiet. It did little to mute Arizona’s flatulence or his unnecessary hysterics. My farewell to them was worthwhile. We hit up a local bar afterwards where we had only 15 minutes before the train back to the city arrived. I offered to buy my guide a beer, and out of kindness offered a beer to the couple. They said they’d take two diet cokes, and I told them I’d be happy to buy them a beer. The cokes are on their own. Of course I got the fuckers their cokes anyways, but when the train pulled up ahead of schedule, I ran away. Didn’t get to say good bye, just took off, and left them in my trail. And that’s where I’m happy to leave them. I made the train with seconds to spare.

Did some more typical nightlife before hitting the hay. Got some spinach and cheese pie, and some suhi. The next day I did an ultra tourist thing again. I went to the market to go bag shopping and grab some souvenirs for home. I went to the beautiful downtown Chinease friendship garden (check out those pics), had some tea and dim sum. Afterwards I went to Wildlife World to finally see some kangaroos and koalas. They were nice, but it was pretty much like being at the zoo.
Worth the ticket? Maybe not, but how many times am I going to be in Australia? And how many times will I win at Blackjack? All of them! I went to go see the stupid Journey to Mecca at Imax (it was the largest screen in the world) where I fell asleep, and then had dinner at a noodle shop in Chinatown. That night, I partied. I partied so hard I forgot that I was a human being. I met so many crazy people, and ended the evening at 9am arguing with front desk guy convinced that the elevator was broken because it wasn’t responding quickly enough to me pushing it repeatedly. I was out of my head, but it was awesome. To think I was forgetting what its like to party so hard. Won’t let it happen again. To think of those people I interacted with at those three different clubs. What did I say? Why did I do that!? Will they ever remember me? The Shanghai nightclub above that one hotel? The bathroom? Wilco? Phoenix which doesn’t open till 6am? The popsicles and tootsie rolls? The music? Video DJs? It was such a blur, even then, but I feel like if people got awards, I’d be somewhere on top that night. Even alone, it’s a great party.

I was going to go to the beach that next day, but slept instead. I needed it. I didn’t do a thing that day. Sat inside, went to the fair at the dandelion fountain, and then just sort of hung out. After that, I’m almost done with Sydney at this point, and I feel like I got a very decent taste. Mostly, I’ve been reflecting a lot on who I am, and what I am meant to do. I’m getting this urge inside to do something great with my life, something fantastic. I know what I’m doing is fantastic already, but it’s solely individual. I don’t get to share how exciting things are as much as I’d like. I want to show everyone the excitement as it were. I want to show the world. I think about Wisconsin a lot. It is the place of my dreams, and I think of it more than any other place across the globe. I can’t say why, and I think that’s the real clue. Something instinctually attracts me there. Like it means something very special. Like it is very significant for that next step in my progression. I feel I should take my dreams there, the book I had dreamt, the story, telling it, letting it out, and going up there to retreat. That is what I must do. This is my destiny. I can feel it.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be like this for my whole life, wandering through the world, with people coming in and out of my life constantly. Essentially I am the lonely traveler. I embrace it, but I have to be careful of a life like this, what it makes me. At this point I am looking forward to going home again, back to base, my friends and family. I wonder, and even fear, that no one can understand who I am, that even I don’t know myself anymore. This unfamiliarity in my own mind and body. Who did I become? Is this what I had wanted, or could I have even known what it is that I now enjoy? There are so many facets of this experience that I can’t put into words, even to touch upon in my own thoughts. The intangible. The excitement of the unknown. I wonder if everyone feels this way at times, or is it the product of my strange reality. I know that my reality is unlike anyones I’ve ever known, and it’s mostly a good thing, but I also wonder if perhaps this reality helps to further my own insecurities, or in the very least creates new ones for me to hurdle, distractions, a distrust for a constant reality. Yet, I couldn’t imagine a better life that what I have right now. So I continue to ponder the imperfectness of our world. In the life that I’ve found, one that is better than any other I’ve experienced, I still find even more things to be afraid of, some of which I seem greater fears than the ones before. Do I want to be the man I’m becoming? Do I have a choice? Perhaps that is what builds people into greatness, risking that which turns the others into failures. For me, I can simply strive to be unlike any other.

I’m going out to the bar to meet up with my old friends from that first night, one last wonderful hurrah (and it truly was wonderful) at the clubs, and then I have one more day in Sydney. The famous Sydney opera has an open house, and there’s the modern art museum and an oyster bar nearby. That’s my final plan for Australia. Then it’s to Miami for advanced business training and finally, one more time, after ALL this time, Home.



Home.

And then there was Tahiti

So we left Hawaii to head out to sea once more. Always a daunting prospect. After I step off land, I won’t step on another ground for another 4 days. That’s quite a commitment to the ocean. Putting yourself to the fates. Anything could happen.

Of course, in these modern times, that “anything” has been reduced to “remarkably unlikely.” Those 4 days went smoothly as expected. I had two seminars and a successful auction. I go to the gym sometimes and watch 24 season 5, which is AMAZING. One of my friends in the spa likes to joke around with me. She tells me that when I wear my gym shorts, and she looks at my bum, it’s like “2 eggs in a hanky.” That might be the best compliment of my life. Our guests have primarily been Australians now, and its such a different type of clientele. Our entire crew had to go through Australian transition training where we had to learn about the lifestyle and general knowledge of the Australian people. Words like Fair Dinkum and Teatotaller. Did you know the capitol of Australia is Canberra, not Sydney, and has a total population of 22 million? It has the highest ratio of beach front to population in the world! Awesome. The training ended with a session of Jeopardy, and I told the room my team was going to win. I was right. Anyways, the Australian people are more vibrant and down to Earth than Americans. They don’t take themselves too seriously and are generally more (honestly) friendly. But they expect you to be upfront with them. Which I am. With sales, you have to put the ball in their court, and they will usually follow through even if they decide not to collect. Heres the price, you let me know what you would like to do. It seems less tacky to me, and feels more genuine. If they like it, they’ll urge themselves to get it, which is fine by me.

Also, we had an equator crossing ceremony. This was weird. They told me to come up to the pool deck around 11 am for the proceedings. Essentially everyone from cruise staff dresses in drag to honor King Neptune and his wife. They then tied me up along with the production staff and carried us out in front of all the guests in order to pay homage and beg forgiveness from Neptune for being unworthy pollywogs. In order to correct our misgivings, we had to “kiss the fish.” This is when they take out some less than fresh fish from the dining room and have us kiss them in front of everyone. Weird. Then they randomly break eggs over us and then flour us. Weird. And then they throw chunks of beef at you. I don’t get it. Why? That’s all I kept yelling, Why? For what reason? We crossed the equator, thankfully, and then had a crew ceremony later that night. I got to MC, but it was still just as bizarre. I don’t get it.

Another incident was the fact that Tarun emailed my boss from my own email account pretending to be me. He is surely a troubled individual. He went on to accuse managers from the ship of setting him up in some conspiracy to have him fired, when all is said and done is the fact that he’s a drunk. What else does anyone need to know? Anyway, I called my boss and we both had a good laugh over it. He told me they were taking bets on whether or not that was actually my email as I don’t commonly forget to capitalize letters and omit punctuation. Great job, Tarun!

Seeing you again makes me want to throw up… in a good way.

And then one morning came and I was in Papeete, Tahiti. Oh, being on land again is a welcome site, especially when that land is French Polynesia. Easily the most exotic place I have ever been to. Of course there was more to come. Now, the common misconception is that Tahiti encompasses multiple islands. It does not, but for the sake of simplicity I will refer to the four days in French Polynesia as Tahiti. We rented a car for that first day. Tahiti is the biggest island of French Polynesia’s Society Islands, so the best way to get about is by car. Being in the city is a good and bad thing. It’s kind of a dump and not much to look at, but there is more “stuff” to do. You get to see a lot driving around, and the distant mountains were beautiful. I love tropical islands, such a lush feel and look to them. It’s like…paradise. We decided that everything sounds better with the word Tahitian in front of it, so I will continue to do so. Once out of the city we cruised down the Tahitian coast. Tahitian black sand beaches, distant Tahitian islands in the sea, and of course the occasional Tahitian waterfall. We stopped at a couple of those Tahitian beaches, saw a tall Tahitian lighthouse, Tahitian palms, some Tahitian cliffs, and paddled in some tropical Tahitian coves. Just sort of wandering…observing…Tahitian style. I am Coleman the Observer, and for that day, Coleman, the Tahitian Observer. We traveled through the Tahitian bamboo forests to feel the spray of a Tahitian mountain waterfall, and we sampled some Tahitian cuisine at a peculiar Tahitian shopping mall. We came up with a secret pass code for the day. “Yellow water falls out of my lava tube.” We then traveled down the other side of the coast to see the Tahitian sunset. There we found some secret Tahitian grottoes filled with bats and drank from a fresh Tahitian spring. I stumbled upon an Australian gentleman urinating in the bushes and then we left to figure out how to return our Tahitian rental car to the Tahitian airport. They gave us this terrible map and we had to like, actually go through the airport terminal. It made no sense, but I navigated successfully. It was like a mini puzzle from Silent Hill. SILENT HILLLLLLLL….Afterwards, we headed back to the ship. I got some dinner from a local food plaza thing, some Chinese food, and then we went out to a Tahitian bar. I got some Tahitian beer mixed drink cocktail thing (different, but rather nice) saw a Silent Hill building and then went to a terrible club fashioned with Hollywood memorabilia. No one was there except us, and the bartender was named Damien. He was from France, and I got into the whole “Damien! Look at me, Damien! Its all for you!” tirade, but I don’t think he got it. I guess I’m sort of ridiculous. But hell, how many times do you meet Damien these days? And so we ended our night in Tahiti and headed back in to the ship. Because the next island was so close, we just sort of drifted that night out in the sea, it was nice. There was a warm breeze and a full Tahitian Moon, just like the song. “I can see the lights of the shore getting farther away. I don’t know if I’ll make it home tonight, but I know I can swim…under the Tahitian moon…one last time, under the Tahitian Moon…The sea is a very easy place to disappear on, to drift away on…”

The next island, Moorea. This was my “unexpected” pleasure island. Envisioned as and inspiring the concept if Bali Hai, it is easily the most beautiful island I had ever been to. Tall, green mountains overlook a calm, blue Tahitian lagoon. Absolutely enchanting. The land of enchantment. A small group of us did a day tour thing. We hoped off the ship and caught a boat that takes you along the reef where we stopped to snorkel with some sting rays and sharks, awesome, and then takes us to a secluded “motu” or mini island. Now, geologically these islands are in the middle stages of what will be an atoll and the newer volcanic islands, like Hawaii. They have just begun to erode back into the sea. So, the original shores, when they were new islands, still maintain their protective coral barriers even after the land begins to descend back into the ocean. This leaves beautiful blue lagoons surrounding the main mountainy part. Your are left with a ring of coral reefs, and motus which then protect that larger inner land mass, leaving one of the most ideal places on the surface of our planet. Calm, pristine, gorgeous lagoons to paddle around till you’re so overtaken by the natural beauty you’re convinced you’re living a dream. Beautiful fish swim everywhere, the water is calm and warm, and the sun shines down happily. You are filled with a sense of unspeakable joy with the world, and a contentment which speaks in a certain way that “this is it.” This is the place to be. We hung out on the motu for a while, explored the reefs, and celebrated my personal philosophy of “you haven’t been anywhere unless you’ve peed on it.” The cost? 4 days at sea. Well worth the trouble…well worth the life. Afterwards we headed to a local crepe café, saw some cats, and then headed to the beach before setting sail. We were headed back out to sea early that day, but it left just the right impression of a beautiful island. That desire for more. Always leave them wanting more. When we got to the beach, guess who we saw there. Damien! Look at me, Damien! Its all for you!

The next island was called Raitea, and was not as nice as Moorea. No worries though, I made a very special memory there. One of the dancers, Colleen, and I have struck up a nice friendship and we walked around Raitea’s town. There wasn’t a lot to see there so we decided to go to the beach. I ate a chow mein sandwich with ketchup (WEIRD) and we got a taxi to take us to a nearby resort. Everyone (the cool crew) was there. Now, there was no beach, but there was a pier that you could jump off of and snorkel around, and a pool, but I mean, come on, why use the pool when there’s the beautiful Tahitian lagoon right there? Anyway, there’s a couple of motus not far from the pier, maybe a couple of kilometers. The pier had some kayaks you could borrow, so Colleen and I decided why not kayak to the motu over yonder. Fat chance, Dumbo! A bunch of people already got em. So instead Colleen and I borrowed some of their snorkeling equipment to explore the reefs while we waited for our turn on the kayaks. We had some flippers and goggles, and we’re paddling around, and we said to each other, hey, why don’t we just swim there? Oh but theres currents, what if theres sharks? And that bullshit. One of the entertainers said, don’t worry about it, its all in your head, just go. And so we did. We swam to the motu. It was something I will never forget, ever. One of the most amazing experiences of my life. I developed a personal philosophy around it:

In Tahiti, swim across the crystal blue lagoon to the exotic island oasis, when you return, you have, from here until ever more, “come from the island.”

And that’s the truth

And finally, the epic, the unforgettable, Bora Bora. In my cabin, the entire contract, I had a dry erase board on the wall with stuff I needed to do for work. Marketing, expo, financial controlling, restrictions, key times to promote, top sales and goals, and of course, in the corner, a reminder for why I do all this stuff: Bora Bora. Its been something I’ve been looking forward to in my life for months. Bora Bora. It sounds like the land of dreams, of the imagination, and it trumps everywhere, anywhere, as the most beautiful, ideal spot on the Earth. Ever. Of course we only had until 3pm, that was when our ship left for Australia, so what to do?

I had debated about it, but then settled on the idea of doing a crew tour. I’ve grown to disdain tours, but I found myself surrounded by my new friends. I realized, this was about it, this was the last time I would have with my mates on any exotic locale, because the next time I come to land, I will be signing off the ship. But what a better place could I have hoped for? Friends on boats…in Bora Bora. Amazing…AMAZING. Why do people go anywhere else in the world? Why pay money to go somewhere else? Why? I understand, Bora Bora is not an easy palce to get to, its not cheap, but man, its worth it. Worth more than anything you could imagine. Go. Go to Bora Bora. You will never forget it.

So our guide Shark Boy took us to a couple of snorkel spots, where we saw the stingrays again. These things are ridiculous. They go ga ga (Lady!) over fish parts and just want to suck on you. You put the fish in front of them and they start sucking with their faces, but can’t see you, so I lead them onto other people, where they come out of the water and flap on your chest like the facehugger from Alien. This was hysterical, especially with the girls that scream. You wait until their not looking and then get a stingray to come up on their back, when they turn around…its too late! They scream and scream, and I laugh hysterically. I’m such a kid, but it’s just too funny. Monica would hate it! Of course I got my dues. I got a huge hicky on my chest, one of those buggers bit me bad…..it was worth it. Shark Boy also turned me on to Monoi Tipanie oil. It’s this wonderful Tahitian oil that combines coconut and monoi flower and you just rub it all over yourself and it makes you feel wonderful. Like the skin of a baby! I love it. Next we went to go swim with the sharks, whooptee whoo (actually, yeah, whoopty whoo!) and then, finally, he took us to the most fabulous beach in the world. It was on one of the larger motus and looked upon the glorious peaks of the Bora Bora mountains. We paddled, bathed, and basked in the glorious Tahitian lagoons one last time. This was the life, this was “the” worth it for me. That half hour on that beach was all the time in the world. Again, something I will never, ever forget. A whole 7 months at sea culminating at one point. An entire season in Alaska to build up to this moment of rapture, of enlightenment. Was it everything I had hoped for? More…but of course, just a taste. At 3pm, we set sail, once more, one last time, for the shores of Oceania’s most formidable island, Australia.

And so my time aboard the Rhapsody was coming very quickly to an end. We still had 7 days at sea, which is a very long time, but not that long, baby. We lost a day when we crossed the international dateline, bizarre, but still. I had to do a handover. That means an inventory and an entire sweep of my gallery and program. I had two last auctions to run, and ended my contract with my most successful cruise to date, which is the best way to go out, WITH A BANG! And fuck Tarun, two of my best cruises were without him. What a derelict, as Mike would say. Go out on a positive note with the company. I sold a Rembrandt from 1785 called “Woman at a Door Hatch Talking to a Man and Children: The School Master.” Described as: “Rather dark, but quite good looking.” It was an unsettling piece, but I’m happy to have it as my last major contribution to the fine art collecting world. My client was a lovely Australian woman, and I was telling her about my plan for my holiday in Australia. “Stay away from King’s Cross,” she warned. Its trouble. But that’s exactly where I’m headed.

:)

This is Coleman Vander Meer Balogh, International Fine Art Auctioneer of the RCI Rhapsody of the Seas, signing off.

From the Land of Flowing Ice to the Land of Frozen Fire

When I look at it in the grandeur scheme of things, I’m going from one American extreme to the other. Our two bastard states, confined to the corner of our maps, disproportional to the “continental” states. Alaska to Hawaii, the opposites and antithesis. Our frozen north and the tropical isles. How exciting. I wondered when I’d ever visit these two places, I never imagined, not even in my wildest geographic nightmares, that I’d be visiting them directly after one another. Hold onto your butts.

But of course, first we must traverse the seas. Going from Vancouver to Hawaii takes five full days at sea. This is my longest stint without a port day, and it’s enjoyable in that it makes me feel like I live on a spaceship, but also very disorienting. For the cruise, we have these five sea days and then five port days, so I have to fit my entire program into these first days, leaving me plenty of time to enjoy the islands. That means first day is seminar day, then auction day, then seminar day, then two auction days. It keeps me busy for sure, but I do have a lot free time. Most of it goes to the gym, but the glorious remainder is spent on endless videogames. That third day, a seminar day, we spent 11 hours playing X box. It was awesome. We played Gears of War 2, a cross between World War 2 and Doom, and then of course I had purchased a copy of Silent Hill: Homecoming. This has proven to be a grand exercise in psychological management. It is much more difficult than the other games (the 6 before it) as the main character is a soldier returning home, who also must fight off more deadly inner demons that pack a much harder punch. Its geared more to an action game. I’ve never been so publicly horrified before. Fellow crew members would come by, watch a bit, and then have to leave with blood streamlining out of their eyes. Not true of course, but it freaked my shit. I enjoyed maybe a third of the game before it literally destroyed itself. The disc had to be thrown away because when I went to return to where I left off one day, it simply did not function. The disc had developed deeply set scratches that were not there before. Unplayable out of nowhere. The level I was on was called ‘Descent into Hell.’ Enough said. Perhaps it was not ready for me yet. I will have to wait then, for my own Homecoming, to return to that place of restless dreams, to the town of Silent Hill.

Traveling across the sea for days on end to finally wake up, and sea the beauty of Hawaii is a unique experience. I made up my own Hawaiian word to use as a password at my events with guests. Aloha hula lai! I got up early to witness our arrival in Maui. After so many days, granted 5 isn’t too long, but when you’re on a boat, its longer than it seems, and really 5 days IS a long time, to wake up to see volcanoes rising out of the dawn takes my breath away. It resets my ideals for the world, my hopes and dreams to explore the ends of the Earth. Tears come to my eyes with my sense of wonder renewed. I forget the exhilaration of experiencing new lands, of new adventures. And here before me, blessed in my life: Hawaii. A land awaiting discovery.

Lucky for me I have Jana. She has visited Hawaii multiple times over the years and her leadership was more than helpful. She has such a vibrancy and natural enthusiasm for life. We share many common traits, but also many attractive differences. I got to meet her parents a couple of times, they were wonderful of course, but her mom told her she understood why we were such good friends, because I’m so comfortable with who I am as a personality that its enchanting. I think I feel the same way about her. Everything is so fancy. Every day is a fancy day aboard the Rhapsody of the Seas, but its extra fancy with Jana. We host parties together, we eat luncheons and get stopped by guests, I introduce her shows and she stops in at mine. We’re like F-list celebrities together. Its all for show you know, pretend, but we have so much fun. And so I was excited to have her as a personal port and shopping guide on my Hawaii “vacation”. What fun.

And so my first impression of Hawaii is the port of Lahaina on the island of Maui. It was so bright and refreshing. The most picturesque view of what Hawaii should be. We were greeted by the warm music of the senior hula dancers, and the tropical sunshine. Palm trees and other vibrant greenery grow everywhere, island architecture, and of course HAWAII SHAVED ICE. I couldn’t stop thinking about how different from Alaska it feels. Would I be so happy to be in Happy Hawaii if I didn’t spend four and a half months in the Arctic? Who knows, but it just warms my soul to think about that moment. Arrival.

Jana and I signed up for a day excursion to a half sunken crater off the shore of the southern coast. We were going to snuba, a combination of snorkel and scuba. So the tour operators come and collect us and drive us down the coast to their harbor. I love driving around in new places. You get to see so much. All the little beaches, fruit stands, and local surfers. Like flipping through the pages of a pictoral. Impressions of a new land. After we set sail on our excursion catamaran they tell us that were not going to the crater as originally intended, but an alternate dive site. We were kind of disappointed as swimming in a volcanic crater sounds much cooler than just some beach, but either way it was amazing to be able to swim in the ocean again. It wakes up your body, and feels good to your soul. It cleans our skin and clears your head. I love swimming, and even more so with the ocean. Refresh. Also feeling the sunshine, the Maui sunshine. So we swam, drank some POG (Pineapple Orange Guava) and played in the sunshine. Heading back, we only had a little bit of time to clean up for our Luau. Quick shower, sign some papers, and set out on a tender for an unforgettable experience.

Luaus are fucking amazing. Its like THE party to go to. First of all they give you flower lais and then immediately put a drink in your hand. Yeah I want a Mai Tai. All inclusive? Give me two. Jana warned me about eating earlier because she said we would be drinking copius amounts of alcohol. She was right, and let me tell you, the Maui sunset goes down even better with a cocktail in your hand. How about a lava flow, yea, a long beach, yep, a planters punch, two. And then theres the whole tropical scenery. Palms everywhere, beautiful flowers, torches, islanders, its just so Hawaii. And then the food, served buffet, but still pretty good. They roast a whole pig; have ahi tuna salad, pork wrapped in lotus, island fish, and all sorts of other local delights, including poi. Now everyone says you are going to hate poi. I didn’t hate it but I don’t really like it. Poi originally is made from the taro root, and was originally the only staple starch of the Hawaiian people’s diet. They still eat it traditionally, but there really isn’t any point to it now with the advent of rice. Of course it doesn’t taste very good, but with the historical context behind it, you must appreciate. It does however have the flavor of glue. So it’s up to you. After dinner there were more drinks, a dance show with all the hulas, and then some more drinks. We were feeling great at this time, and since we had an OVERNIGHT, decided to go out to our next bar. That bar was lame so we bought some beers, and my buddy Jake who rented a mustang (and was DD), took us closer to the ship where there was another bar. That bar was ok, but still lame so we went to the beach to drink our beers. After that we drove across the island to another beach to drink some beers. Then we went to another beach further up to drink some beers. That beach was pitch black, but awesome and then we started along for our initial plan to go to the top of the volcano. It took a couple of hours as its over 10,000 feet but we finally made it super early in the morning, and since it was pitch balck out and freezing, we decided to have a nap in the car. It was my brilliant idea to put the beers outside the car to keep them cool. Sure enough, a couple of cops come buy to wake us up. It was really confusing and stressful. We just wanted to cool our beers off we said, what if a 15 year old gets them, I don’t know, why didn’t you just drink in the car, can we, YES, sorry, ok well drink in the car. Jeeeze. So the cops were awful, as always, and we went back to sleep

We wake up super early intendning to see the sunset rise over the mountain, open the doors to see the beautiful scenery, and find ourselves in awful, wet, gray, Purgatory. Its so freaking cold, damp, and cloudy, and there were like 500 people standing around, silently, too cold to move. Seriously, as much as I talk about Purgatory (and its a lot believe me) this is the closest I’ve ever come to experiencing it. So we travel back down to the ship. Stop and get some McDonalds (did you know the McDonalds in Hawaii are the only ones in the world to serve SPAM and coconut pie? Mmmm). The drive back to the ship was glorious and we listened to some local Hawaiian tunes with top down. That was a nice memory. Driving around in a car. I’d forgotten what that was like too. We laughed at some advert in the Maui Times. Warren and Anabelle’s Magic Show, voted best attraction in Maui by the AAA. The picture had a hand presenting to a crowd filled with the craziest laughing faces imaginable. All of them just like, “OMG this is the best magic show everrrrrrrr!!!!!” type of faces. Bordering on lunacy. I will never forget it. Most of them were like, “I’m afraid I will be shot in the kneecaps if I don’t laugh the hardest I ever have before” kind of a look on their face. If I don’t laugh like I’ve just heard the funniest joke in the world I will lose all that is beloved in my life. I’ll never forget it. How many are crazy at Warren and Annabelle’s Magic Show??? All of them. I helped Jake clean out the rental car, took a shuttle back, and then enjoyed another Hawaiian shaved ice before meeting up with Jana and Lara for the beach. Oh the beach…THE BEACH…I’d forgotten about how welcoming, how wonderful it can be. Just lounging in your skin, laying out and floating around. Oh dear beach, Alaska made me forget you too. We played a bit in the sun, watched the hotties go by, and then some. The waves came in and an obese woman couldn’t get out of the surf. She would try and try, but then a wave would come in and roll her out like a sack of dough. I eventually ran up to help her out and then another guy came to help me, but her husband had been laughing at her the whole time, which I thought was funny…cause he’s the one married to it. Anyway, we enjoyed a nice lunch on the beach, strolled through some stores, bought some tank tops, and then headed back to the ship. Overnight in Maui, CHECK. Onto the big island.

Most people assume that the capitol of Hawaii is on the big island which is not true. It’s on Oahu. Big Island is simply Hawaii Island. Here I signed up for the “Land of Frozen Fire” tour which I was really excited about. When I got off the boat, we were again greeted by Hula music. I wonder how often these people have to do this for our ships, and then I wonder how much they hate life, but that’s another story. I mean get a grip, you live in Hawaii. Anyways, so we had a couple of stops to make on this tour, the first being these lava tubes. So they split us all up to the 15 person vans, and I’m thinking they’re going to send us off in different directions, and we go to the tubes, and everyone shows up. Not all at once, but over the course of 20 minutes. Why didn’t they send us on opposite route at least to break up the crowd? I don’t know. I just don’t. So then I have to wait 30 minutes for all these people (most of whom are very much older, larger people) slowly go single file down into these tubes. Just waiting for the stairs to clear takes 15 minutes. I forget how awful this people herding becomes. I go off in a different direction (a different lava tube) than the tour simply to not have to wait around. By the time I come back their just starting to talk to us. So we travel up into the caves, its cool and all, but theres just so many people around, slowwwww, obesity. The lava tube caves are wicked (they look like the inside of the alien spaceship in Alien), don’t get me wrong, its just like, I wish I could have done this on my own. Next stop they take us to Lava Tree State Park where you can see what happens to trees when the get covered in lava. Theres a lava stump that looks like a giant penis. Awesome. Next they take us to a beach where the lava tubes came out and we eat a shitty box lunch for an hour. Fine. Then they take us closer to some other lava tubes where theres a balck sand beach. Neato. Then they skip out on the hot springs so they can take us to the Mona Lau macadamia nut factory. Alright, already. At this point I kind of feel stupid for doing this tour. Like I feel really lame. I could have gone off and done something rad. You know, if I found those lava tubes on my own I would have been ecstatic. But I didn’t. I signed up to visit them with obesity in tow. Kind of makes me feel lame. By the time I got back to the ship I was ready to take a nap. I’m not ungrateful, because I saw some awesome shit. Took lots of cool pics, but it makes me feel like a dork. And not the natural dork I celebrate being, but the en masse dork. The one that wears a Hawaii t-shirt, and takes pictures of the macadamia nut factory.

In the evenings we’ve been enjoying our new found back deck parties. In Alaska it was too cold to be outside, so we drank in the Skaal Bar. Now we drink on the back deck where we can enjoy the weather and the stars. Its so nice to enjoy the outside moonshine in Hawaii, and that moon goes down even better with a Pina Colada in hand. I was sharing some ABBA with some friends…Oh boy…and we came across a song called Happy Hawaii. Its everything I could have hoped for and more in an ABBA song about Hawaii. And it goes “Hey Hololulu, I’m headed for Happy Hawaii.” Theres some nice melodies in there too, with the waves crashing on the beach in the background. It makes me smile, and the best part, tomorrow Honolulu!

Honolulu was a nice, lazy day. The ship didn’t depart until 10pm that night, so I decided to close the gallery, you know, take the night off. A group of us decided to head out immediately to Waikiki. We had enough people that our taxi was upgraded to a limousine. What an awesome way to hit up the beach. And of course Waikiki Beach is amazing. Beautiful sand, beautiful people, beautiful water, and Shave Ice! Went swimming, did some surfing, got some fish tacos, drank some drink, shopped around a bit, and then headed back to the ship. It was about this time that I started to wonder why is it people will pay money to go to Alaska, when they could go to Hawaii instead. I understand that Alaska is beautiful, really I do, but, oh Hawaii. I know the USA aquired Hawaii for defense purposes, but you know they had to think about the fact that we were nabbing one of the world’s most fabulous island destinations. Our personal state of exotic bliss. Oh Hawaii!!! Why was I in Alaska when I could be here!? It makes no sense! In the evening we had a group of us planning to go out to a nice dinner so we go dolled up, drank some drink, and then headed back to the main Waikiki strip. At dinner I complained to the management that our meals arrived at the same time as our appetizers. That’s a huge no-no. I got some more fish because thats probably what you want to enjoy in Hawaii. They do have access to some of the best sea food around. So go with the flow. We went to another bar before heading back to the ship, and as it was a long day, I crashed earlier than normal only to enjoy another long day tomorrow. Another day, another island.

The next island was Kauai, or the garden island. For me this was the final full day of Coleman and Jana. Beyond Hawaii, there is no need for a port and shipping guide as the lands are too exotic. In other words, her company has yet to set up a shopping program that far away from you typical cruise destinations. Sort of the undeveloped lands. The beyond. So this would be our last day of adventure together. Jana rented a car, and since this was the island she visits her family with, she toured me around for the day. It certainly was the most lush of the places we had seen in Hawaii. Green valleys and mountains everywhere. Its where they film Lost and Jurassic Park. It is the unidentifiable tropical island. For me it was a pleasant surprise. It the island you hear the least about. There’s Big Island that you see on the map, Oahu that has Honolulu, the honeymoon island of Maui, and then Kauai… Jurassic Park island. Pretty cool. We drove along the coast for a bit, got some Starbucks, had some wheat grass shots, and then set out for the Pacific’s Grand Canyon. The island has a mini version of the Grand Canyon called Waimea Canyon, and if you were transported through time and space by, oh I don’t know, a phone booth, you would be troubled to tell the difference. Who would have expected? Next we stopped at an old Russian fort park that had no Russian fort, but was still a place to see, and then we went to the Poipu coast to have some lunch. We stopped at a nice Tiki garden, Jana hit some of the jewelry stores (of course) and I bought some sun screen. We then laid out on the beach for a couple hours. There was a small coral island I swan to, observed some sea life, and then we headed back towards the ship. Again the ever lingering of “I have to get back to the ship.” No matter where you go, or what you do, it always hangs over your head. And you can’t escape it less you lose your job...and your life. Oh well, I still get paid to go to Hawaii. So we took the route through the valley, under the tunnel of trees, and back to our port. Simply a memory of pictures, and absolutely beautiful.

Our next day took us back to Big Island, to the port of Kona on the opposite side which is westward facing the Pacific. A bunch of us were going to get off and go see some stuff, didn’t know what yet (right!?!?), and then go from there. Jana woke me up because she wanted to know what I was planning to do with the warning the Captain announced. What warning? The TSUNAMI!!! So there was an earth quake off the Samoan islands and already tsunamis had hit. They were expecting the waves to reach Hawaii in a couple of hours. Tenders were still taking people ashore but the evacuation would happen around 1pm to take people further inland. So what was I going to do? I told Jana I would rather be on land than on the ship. Even though its safer to be on the water than on land for a tsunami, Jana argued. Its true, but have you ever seen The Poseidon Adventure? That is the shit of my nightmares. I do not want to go through that. SO I called Jake and he was with me, we headed to land. By the time we got on land, ordered a Hawaiian sandwich, had some snow cones, and met up with some other peeps, the warning had been lifted. We struggled for a bit trying to rent a car, then hiring a cab to take us to a distant beach. They’d be closed he said, so we took a cab to a beach that wasn’t too far away. We got there and the lifeguards were pulling people out of the water, and closing the beaches just to be safe. So what should we do? They advised us to go to a beach that was a popular dive spot, and public beach with no restrictions. So thats where we went. The girls didn’t want to swim, so they went to get lunch at a nearby restaurant, and we enjoyed some snorkeling. Saw lots of fish, a few turtles, and for just the price of a cab it wasn’t bad for a nice tropical swim. Oh man, I love to swim. Afterwards we met up with the girls at the restaurant, and since it was right on the water and about Tsunami time, we ordered some beers and calamari and waited for some sort of show. For a while the waves seemed to be getting bigger, but we really couldn’t be sure, and then of course a few beers turned into some more, and nobody could tell so then our waitress offered to take us back to the port. I guess she wanted to finish her shift and we were the long overdue trouble table. So we all piled into her truck, I sat in the back and we went to the tender pier. We still had a couple of hours before all aboard so we bought some more beers, and sat at a small beach right off the port in a protected cove. It was right next to an unused luau site and some surfboards, so we just hung around until we had to go back. It was nice. I took some pictures of birds, and went out with Lara to pee in the water. As I’m urinating in the ocean I notice all these cigarette buttes floating past me. It takes me a second to realize that it was odd anything should be floating past me as the cove was completely still before. So we look out to the ocean and see a small wall of water flooding towards us. Strange. Oh wait! Oh SHIT! I said to Lara “oh shit, it’s the tsunami!” We yelled and scramble dout of the water drunkenly and people started to collect their stuff. The water came up the beach all the way towards where we had been sitting. Some other people took off, and there was commotion on the pier. An empty canoe got lifted off the beach and carried away towards the sea and then the waters started to recede. That was the scariest part, knowing the water had come in, and then it totally receded about 30 feet away from where it had been. You could see the current rushing out of the cove. We didn’t know where it would stop when it came back in, and that was honestly frightening. We grabbed all of our stuff and were prepared to run. Of course the waters didn’t come that much farther in that they had before, but it was that moment of anticipation. Who knew what could have happened? Jana thought I was being over dramatic, but even she was holding her bag pretty tightly, ready to book it. All in all, it was simply unusual tidal changes we were experiencing, but it was definitely the remnants of the tsunami. We all saw it. And the crazy part is that what we saw came from all across the globe in a matter of hours, traversing thousands of miles, it was the aftermath of something which claimed many lives. It was truly incredible. And then, in that moment, I realized I peed in it. I Peed in the Tsunami.

So that evening was the official end of cruise. I had one last big sale come through, which was great, and I closed late. I forgot to mention that Tarun was fired because he’s a derelict. Good riddance to sad babush. His Jesus tattoo was freaky. Anyways, the turnaround day was in Honolulu and then we had an overnight before sailing west to Tahiti. We spent a day at Waikiki again, surfing, sunning, snow cones, that sort of thing, and then I had to come back to the ship for Expo. Welcome aboard shenanigans. I then got dolled up for my last evening in Hawaii and my last evening with Jana. We got a taxi to take us back to Waikiki and after some walking around, found a nice resort’s in house restaurant that was right on the water. We could hear the waves lapping on the shore as we enjoyed some local hula music along with our signature cocktails, all the while the moon shone down at us outside of “The House without a Key.” What a name for a restaurant! It’s taken from the title of an old mystery novel written in Honolulu and takes place at that exact location, and it was the perfect place to enjoy our farewell dinner on our final Hawaiian evening. We waited a little bit too long for the food, but the night was perfect. I was sad to say goodbye to Jana, but not as sad as I had been before. I was so lucky to have her come back into my ship life. I felt like our friendship was granted an even grander sequel. Alaska and Hawaii with Royal as opposed to the Caribbean with Disney. Two very different stories. We called her a taxi so she could catch her flight and as she pulled away, we waved our final goodbyes, just like the time before. Only this time, our good bye was filled with satisfaction. I look forward to seeing Jana again.

After our elegant dinner with Jana, we let loose and did the whole partying thing. I ended up crashing at 6 in the morning at somebody’s house. I did not want to sleep on the ship. We ended up at all sorts of different bars doing shots, margaritas, and the works, chugging beers in the street that we bought at the convenience store, running into the police again, dancing the night away, POKER FACE, questionable decisions, fighting British people, dancing even more, and then falling into the arms of the strangers. It was fantastic recklessness. A piece of the real party life, where at the end of the day, I’m not being watched by a captain. The next day was lazy, walking around town, enjoying some coconut pie and coffee, spitting on crabs, one last swim at Waikiki and then the sad trek home, well home as in ship. I called everyone I knew back in the states, said goodbye, because from here on out, no more cell phone, only the South Pacific, only OCEANIA. If you get a chance, call my cell phone, I am especially fond of my voicemail message.

And once more to land,
before heading down,
because the next place I’ll see,
the island of Tahiti.