Yarrangobilly Village
Despite planning a trip well there are times Allthego has found where you just get things wrong and you end up in a place that is not what you thought it was going to be like. In this post Yarrangobilly Village is shortened to YV to save the fingers. YV is a few kilometres from Yarrangobilly Caves, YC. Now, YC was our objective for this stop and we had planned a three night stopover here at YV to visit the caves and do a little exploring.
For some reason Allthego had thought YV was a caravan park with power, water a dump point and fuel. I suppose it was the word ‘village’ that put him on this track. Well there was a village here back in the 1860s, the surrounding countryside was grazed, timber, gold mined at Kiandra etc. But over the next hundred years fortunes rose and fell, population declined and in 1969 the Post Office closed and the area became a national park. YV also spread across the river flats on the other side of the road.
Today, nothing remains except one house (can be rented from National Parks?) built in 1898 (has had some renovation since) overlooking the camping area and Yarrangobilly River, YR. So, we were a little short on the facilities we had anticipated.
Despite the initial negative vibe YV is a great stop over point along the Snowy Mountains Highway, about midway between Tumut and Cooma.
After setting up the site beside YR Allthego thought he would test the Long Drop facility, the onboard loo was nearly full and had to be nursed, along with our water, for the next couple of days to allow those now common early morning in the dark visits. Walking up the hill Allthego noticed a lady emerge from the facility and thought to himself ‘now I know her’. Allthego sauntered across and had a closer look. And said ‘ I know you’, she looked quizzically and I continued ‘Debbie’. She took her sunnies off and also had a closer look, paused a bit and said ‘Russell’. My cousin Debbie! Haven’t seen her for some time.
Her mother, my father’s sister, was 100 last September. She had just stopped by to use the loo and was on her way home to Dalgetty, on the Snowy River. We had a chat for a while before she and Ron, her husband, had to head off. One for the road!
The turn off to YC is about a 7 km drive from YV, there is then a one way 6 km one lane road/track to the YC Visitor’s Centre. The track is narrow in places but quite well graded, can’t bring a van down to the bottom.
The caves were first discovered by Europeans in the mid 1800s and became over the years a tourist attraction. The National Park people have set up a system of mostly guided entrance only to the caves. A one way ring road makes a circuit of the popular spots.
Numerous walks can take you to more remote spots and down into the gorge along the YR. We did a tour of Jillabenan (‘Dark Hole’) cave, which was only found by Europeans in 1910. It is very well preserved and presented, some amazing formations. Great tour.
The cave is a ‘perched’ cave sitting high up the ridge above the present course of the river. It is thought to be 2-3 million years old, whereas the caves lower down near the river are only 100,000 years or so old.
Allthego took the rather steep 700 metre path down to the thermal pool beside the river.
This pool is fed by an underground spring at the rate of 100,000 litres an hour, the water seeps in at the bottom of the pool and then flows out the top and down to the river. It is a pleasant 27 degrees and crystal clear. The walk back up the hill a little testing, but all ok! The road out of the gorge was also one way back to the top.
Back at the campsite we enjoyed a nightly fire to keep warm before bed, it hit -1 one morning. Bit chilly!
We now move on to Adaminaby and will need to manage the fuel which has got quite low, it is about 60km.
Made it to Tumut
We have made our way down from Inglewood (a contraction of ‘Ingol’ apparently for ‘cypress pine’ and ‘wood’ for the English ‘clump of trees’) to Tumut, after stopovers in Coonabarabran and Forbes. On the way to Coonabarabran we had a short stop beside the Newell Highway at Kiga Bore, a desolate spot amongst the rock and roadside dirt. The bore is surrounded by wattle trees and what is known as ‘sweet acacia’, a low growing very woody spiny shrub.
It’s the sort of place though that grows on you, some ducks swim around, maybe they use the partially submerged truck tyre as a resting spot. The water is a little grimy around the edges, maybe fertiliser run off from the surrounding cotton fields. But the scene makes a nice photo in the sunshine!
Coonabarabran is a favourite stop over for us, a great no frills campground that is never crowded and with plenty of room.
Moving on the next morning we pass through Dubbo, stopping for a roadside lunch. Between Dubbo and Parkes is Peak Hill which has a long gold mining heritage. We paused here for afternoon tea and took the opportunity to check out the old gold mining complex. Quite a sight looking down into the open pit, with it’s copper blue water lake in the bottom of the pit.
In Forbes we stayed beside the Lachlan River at the Apex Caravan Park, nice park location wise but a little squeezy. We will be back here at Forbes on our way home to Brisbane following the Lachlan River. The Lachlan is the major tributary of the Murrumbidgee, but more of that on the return trip. Homealone’s brother Stuart and wife Maree were coincidentally in Forbes staying with Maree’s father Bob and we had an evening roast lamb dinner with them. Very enjoyable indeed. Timing is everything they say!
The next morning it was off to Tumut via Grenfell and Young, the NSW cherry capital. Cherries were finished for the season but the autumn foliage was on full show around town.
Tumut is a busy little town and we decided to head further south along the Snowy Mountains Highway to a free campsite beside the Tumut River.
The camp is a few kilometres below the Blowering Reservoir, and the river is a small trickle of what it once would have been. It is known as the mighty Tumut!
Great spot for the night before heading further south to the source of the Murrumbidgee.
Murrumbidgee Run
We are off to the Murrumbidgee River in southern NSW. The objective is to follow it from its source to its junction with the Murray River. The source of the river is in the Great Dividing Range to the north of Cooma and to the south of Canberra, also a bit to the west. More about this later in the journey, except to say that the river flows south of its source towards Cooma and then does a fish hook type turn and heads back towards Canberra. Near the nation’s capital it turns northwest towards Gundagai and then flows west past Wagga, Narrandera, Hay and Balranald before joining the Murray near a place called Boundary Bend.
We are now at Coonabarabran for the night, having made our way from Inglewood. These are our usual stopover points on the way south from Brisbane. It is generally a bit of a dash for us to get here and we don’t pay too much attention to the passing countryside. The Cunningham Highway, which leads out of Brisbane, meanders through the city’s hinterland before climbing the Range and passing through Cunningham’s Gap.
Bogabilla, south of Goondiwindi.The road then rolls along to Goondiwindi crossing the Western Downs, a Queensland food bowl. The road follows the railway west past rural hamlets, many relics of Cobb & Co days.
Our stopover in the old tobacco town of Inglewood is a favourite spot for us beside MacIntyre Brook. Olives have replaced tobacco here and we find the Lion’s Park ablution block now has a mural since our last visit.
Local butterflies, symbolising serenity and calmness, together with wind turbines adorn the block for our enjoyment.
Tomorrow, we head for Forbes for another one night stand.
The Big Easy
We arrived in New Orleans on a Monday morning in gloomy weather. It stayed gloomy for three days. Just heavy cloud, no sun, a little chilly and on and off drizzle, not enough to hamper us getting around to get a look at things.
We stayed in a Sheraton Hotel on Canal Street which is the main drag through town and on the up river edge of the French Quarter. The FQ is the main touristy district of The Big Easy. New Orleans is known as ‘The Big Easy’ because it is considered to be a ‘laid back’ place. Allthego suspects this ‘laid back’ approach to things might come from the fusion of cultures that exist here. French, Spanish, African, Native American, Italian even a bit of English had seeped in. Food is a great example of this, the food New Orleans is known for is relatively inexpensive and mirrors the ‘peasant foods’ of provincial France, West Africa and Italy.
as(left) and Beignets.Beignets are a classic breakfast item. Donut like but with a hollowish interior, heavily dusted with icing sugar (most of which we brushed off!). We had these again at Cafe du Monde in the French Markets, listening to a sax player playing ‘Old Man River’ among others. Calas is a slave era rice based ‘dumpling’, flavoured with nutmeg. Eaten at breakfast, hard to get these days. We found it a bit dry.
The gumbo is a southern classic, originated during the Slave period as a staple. Stew like and quite heavily spiced. Comes with varied ingredients, meat, sausage, shrimp, fish etc.
We had pre booked a 3 hour food tour of the FQ, turned up for it in the drizzle and finally found the red headed Irish descended (plus some French) young lady guide. As the only starters we effectively had a private tour, really interesting chats with her along the way as we sampled the iconic foods in local establishments.
Poboy is a contraction of ‘Poor Boy’, a soft bun with a crisp thin crust stuffed with almost anything on hand. Plus lettuce, tomato and mayo. Originated from old times when the poor were given stale French bread and left over meats, hence Poboy. If you leave off the lettuce etc they are said to be ‘undressed’, as opposed to being ‘dressed’.
Muffaletta shows the Italian influence, salami, ham and cheese in a seed topped bun. In the middle is a chopped green olive salad. Rather tasty, if you like olives.
Gator balls are self explanatory, the gator is supposed to taste like chicken. We found these didn’t have quite enough bite for our tastes.
The tour finished in the early evening and it was a slow walk back along Bourbon Street in the drizzle. Being the start of the week things are a little slow and the live music only starts up in earnest around 8pm. It is apparently livelier earlier towards the end of the week.
We headed back to the hotel, felt more comfortable back there. Starting to be a little wary as the years roll on.
The next couple of days were spent getting around on the Hop on Hop off bus. We particularly enjoyed the Garden District with the old pre and post Civil War mansions, many having been restored.
The bus ticket included a guided walk up and around the Washington St block. The guide noted that iron work on a property was a symbol of wealth, the more elaborate the greater the wealth!
Interesting bits of historic urban memorabilia remain on some of the footpaths; hitching posts, iron posts on street corners and iron plates with street names over gutters. Strolled past Sandra Bullock’s local digs. Impressive property.
Also had some time along a section of Magazine St, a local shopping and food precinct. Some unusual little establishments to look through.
We also took the opportunity to hop off and have a look at the city’s Catholic Cathedral off Jackson Square, near the spot where the United States purchased Louisiana from the French in 1803.
Also near here is a museum with a Mardi Gras display and the Cyclone Katrina story. Mardi Gras is quite an event here, reflecting its French and African roots. All of society seems to take part with floats and parades. A bit of a contrast with Sydney’s Mardi Gras which seems to be mostly an event popularised by the LGBTQ+ community.
The Cyclone Katrina display was also revealing. A lot more than what we saw on the TV in Australia went on during this disaster and in the months long recovery period. Makes our flood clean ups look like Sunday school picnics, to use an old expression!
Allthego has focussed a bit on food in this blog, but hey y’all that’s one of his weaknesses, the stomach. Y’all is a ‘new’ word he has learnt. A plural second person pronoun, in Aus we say ‘you lot’ and some have been heard to say ‘youse all’. This little book might help me inflict some Southern cooking on y’all. Howzat!
We enjoyed the short stopover in New Orleans, despite the weather, and now head off to Houston to visit Mitchell and Piper for Thanksgiving Week and her birthday.
Up around the bend
An old Credence song came to mind as we plied our way down the river after leaving Natchez. Credence was singing about a road and meeting people ‘up around the bend’, all we met ‘up around the bend’ was more water and more bends.
Quite a few river barges passed us as well, carrying various cargoes up and down the river. It is an industrial and commercial waterway and has suffered ecologically from that experience over the last 150 years, it is starting to make a comeback. But a big job!
The Mississippi is the second longest river in the US at 3,766 km. It and its tributaries pass through 32 States. It rises in Northern Minnesota and flows south draining 2.98m sq km between the Rocky Mts in the west and the Appalachian Mts in the east. The Missouri is the longest river in the US, rising in the Rockies in Montana flowing east and south for 3,767 km, it is 1 km longer than the Mississippi an example of American precision! The Missouri joins the Mississippi at St Louis, more or less the middle of the US. The rivers form the fourth longest river system in the world. It truly is a big ditch.
Our first stop after Natchez is at St. Francisville and marks the transition from the dominance of cotton to sugar cane. It was around these parts that the sugar plantations would stretch for miles with immense wealth being generated from the application of slave labour before the Civil War in the 1860s. In St. Francisville we visit our first plantation mansion, a much restored property. The Myrtles, originally built in 1796. Quite a sight. And a great contrast with the slaves living conditions.
The plantation mansions were generally surrounded by huge oak trees, some are still here 150-250 years old. Many of the homes were destroyed during the civil war and others fell into disrepair. Later restored they have been turned into hotels and tourist attractions.
We had a short wander around St. Francisville, quite a small town at about 1800 people. It has its roots in Cajun country but there is a big English historical influence in the post Civil War Victorian homes that dot the town among a number of prewar homes.
Grace Episcopal Church also pre dates the war, the graveyard has numerous memorials to the fallen.
It was Veteran’s Day when we were there and the military had been through planting flags on all the graves of veterans, including those from the civil war.
Further down the river we called into Houmas House and Nottoway House. Their stories being much the same. Some readers may recognise the name Paul Ramsay, the Australian entrepreneur (now dead) behind the Ramsay Hospital Group. He acquired Nottoway House in the early 2000s for US$4.5m, subsequently spent US$14m restoring it for guests etc. In 2019, after his death, it was sold for US$3.5m. His plot for it hadn’t worked and he did his dough in a big way!
At the end of the Civil War the slaves were freed but in a lot of cases they really had nowhere to go. So they remained on the plantations as share farmers. Holding small plots that sold their crop to the former plantation owner who paid them. This money was then spent in the plantation store for food etc and also for supplies in order to plant the following crop. Not much if anything was left over. A bit like the English feudal system! The system eventually began to collapse with the advance of mechanisation in the years before and after WW1.
Nottoway was our last stop before journeying the last 140km or so down to New Orleans. We didn’t see much of this part of the river as we were asleep arriving in New Orleans at about 3am.
The trip has been an interesting experience. The river itself is not a ‘pretty picture’; its attraction I think is in the human history, the music story and the culinary delights that one passes through along the way. We did not see a lot of wild life on the river, even aboard the boat things were subdued!
Including us there were 8 Aussies aboard, a few from various parts of the UK and Ireland. The rest Americans. We tried to make up for them!
New Orleans awaits for a few days.
On our way
The morning after arriving from Memphis we headed off from the Terrene Landing on the bus to Cleveland, our first shore excursion.
There are 28 Clevelands in the United States. Named presumably after Grover Cleveland, twice President in the late 1800s. Quite a good stop in Cleveland. First off was the Grammy Museum, a branch of the Los Angeles institution. It is situated here in Cleveland because of its position on Route 61, the music trail from New Orleans to Chicago.
The museum documents grammy history with a mesmerising video about the Grammy Nights with excerpts from Grammy winners and their songs. The museum also tells the story of how ‘the blues’ morphed from its genesis in the slaved labour cotton fields into southern church music and finally big band music. The music seemed to seep its way up the highway. There are various landmarks along the route explaining its progress.
We then went to a rather good model railway housed in an old railway station. Amazing work and presentation. Tap the video below for all the action.
The final stop was at the museum documenting the role of Chinese immigrants in the local community. There was a tear jerker video telling the story of how two young descendants, living in LA, of a Chinese immigrant had discovered their family history at the museum. Quite a story. The Chinese immigrants from the mid late 1800s in the USA appear to have been subject to the some sort of prejudices as those in Australia at the same time. They had their own version of the White Australia policy.
Back to the boat for the sail away at 5pm and a night on board steaming down to Natchez. We had originally been scheduled to stop earlier at Vicksburg, the site of a major Civil War battle. This had to be cancelled because of water levels.
Vicksburg is located in a canal off the River and we couldn’t get up it to the landing. So it was a day of steamboating along the river. This was not a bad option because we got to see the river in daylight, the boat was to do most of the journey at night when we’re asleep.
The weather was very pleasant and we had some good views of the river banks, forests and sand bars along the way. The river flows quite quickly and is very muddy.
That evening we were entertained by a Mark Twain look a like, he regaled us in a monologue of snippets of his life. Really good stuff!
Arrived in Natchez in the early hours next morning and tied up at the landing below what is known as the ‘town under the hill’. In the old days this was the seedy part of Natchez, it is now gone having been washed away in floods. Natchez is one of the oldest towns along the river having been founded by the Spanish, before the French and later the English arrived. It was a major cotton plantation area in the 1800s.
The town sits atop a bluff with commanding views of the river in both directions, a strategic location. This was where the well to do lived.
We had a music adventure first up at the Big Muddy, a renovated Victorian era house. It operates as an inn and blues room. Quite a show was put on while we ate some canapés and sipped a Mimosa or two. Amy Allen pumped out a smorgasbord of old blues hits while thumping the piano and guitar. Best seen in the video above.
After lunch it was off to a functioning cotton plantation, Frogmore. It was formerly a slave property that has continued on to the present day. Changing farming practices along the way. Some museum pieces in the fields hark back to the 1800s, Allthego gets down and dirty picking some cotton.
The weather has been treating us kindly, sunny blue skies. The town residents though keep saying “never seen the river so low”. More about the river next time.
Post update
In the last post there was a bit about the ducks and a photo. The photo is actually a link to a video, tap the photo and it will take you to an exciting video!
Ducks and the King
Ahead of joining the American Queen on the river we had to move hotels to be where the cruise connection was located. Fortunately, it was a short one block walk to the Memphis Peabody Hotel and we were able to get there and receive an early check in.
The Peabody is perhaps Memphis’s oldest hotel. The original building was opened in the late 1860s and was later enlarged and remodelled in Italianate style in 1925.
It is an imposing building with a very ornate and elaborate foyer. It was the place to stay and be seen in prewar Memphis. It closed in the 1970s but was soon reopened and spruced up by new owners. Today the hotel appears a little tired, the décor and carpets a bit worn. But then most of the people staying there with us appeared a little tired and worn too. Just like us!
The big attraction though at the hotel are ducks. The world famous Peabody Ducks. Since 1933 ducks have marched on some red carpet from the elevators to the lobby fountain and back again. The ducks live on the roof of the hotel in the Duck Palace. At 11 am each morning they come down the elevator and march to the fountain. They swim around in the fountain until 5 pm when they get out and march back to the elevator and go up to the Duck Palace for the night. This show has been repeated every day since 1933, controlled by the Duckmaster. Quite a show!
Tap the picture and it will take you to a video.
The hotels French restaurant does not serve duck!
The next morning we headed off on an excursion to Graceland. This was included as part of the river cruise program. Allthego is not a huge fan of the King of Rock & Roll, a little before Allthego’s time. Graceland and the associated tourist complex across the road though is an eye opener to his influence and impact on the music scene.
The house itself, although large and with a few ‘gimic’ rooms, is relatively modest. The TV and music room is quite small and simple, apart from 3 TVs. He liked to have the 3 then stations on at the same time so that he didn’t miss anything. The pool room was unusual!
It took about an hour to tour through the house and some of the outside buildings which show cased the family history. The racquet ball building had been recently renovated and opened, this was like his personal squash court. It is where he played a game and later retired to the house and died a few hours later.
The outside walk then took us around to the area where Elvis is buried along with his parents and daughter Lisa Marie. Quite a simple area with some ornamentation.
It was then over to the ‘tourist’ complex for a couple of hours wandering around the exhibits, including Elvis’s two aeroplanes.
It was quite a display of his musical history; gold records, jump suits, motor cars all sorts of memorabilia, war time service details etc. The list goes on. In the background there is Elvis singing away as you look around.
One of the highlights though was having a quick lunch. It was hard to choose from the extensive menu of tasty treats. But we both settled on a plate of Peanut Butter and Banana toasted sandwiches.
These were one of Elvis’s favourite meals. Ours were toasted with butter, we passed on the bacon grease option. Probably would not go for these again. Not offensive in any way, just not the greatest taste.
Looking back on Graceland and the touristy stuff one senses that the King’s life and times have been sanitised a fair bit, there is none of the ‘blood and guts’ that happened along the way. But then, hey, why worry about all that stuff! The ‘family’ is telling the story, some rose coloured glasses are ok.
Back on the bus we returned to Memphis for a guided drive around the town before heading off to the boat. Our luggage had already been taken ahead of us.
The Mississippi River is currently running at very low water levels and travel along it is being hampered significantly. Some of the ports can’t be entered and our itinerary has been changed a little.
Unfortunately, the steamboat can’t get up the river to Memphis and we have to be bussed south to Cleveland to join it there for the night. It took a couple of hours to get there and board as the sun was going down. The luggage had also arrived ok, so we were all set for a week of steamboating.
Memphis
We have arrived in Memphis for a few days before joining the American Queen paddle boat on its journey to New Orleans down the Mississippi River. We have actually now left Memphis and are on the boat. So this is a little catch up on our time in Memphis.
Memphis is an old cotton town and dates back to the early 1800s, named after Memphis on the River Nile (also but a much older cotton town).
Today, Memphis is still big in cotton but the cotton comes no where near the town like in the old days. Today it is from the farm direct to the transport, with no physical trading and wholesaling. A bit like wool is done in Australia.
’s rooftop.That is enough about cotton. Memphis is also famous for its food and Beale Street. A reinvigorated touristy area with plenty of eateries. Pork in various forms is everywhere, distinguished in its preparation by the eateries own special marinades and sauces.
Pulled pork burgers, bacon, ribs and bones abound. Then there is the deep fried chicken specialties, again with various sauces. Hot dogs. Shrimp. Chips. And finally catfish, fried and grilled, rounds out the main fare offerings. We have had a go at a few of these to get into the spirit of the place. Steak and three veg were around but low down on the menus.
With the food comes the music, another Memphis draw card. Blues, Soul and Gospel have their roots in this part of the Deep South. We had lunch at the BB King’s Blues Club, named after the legendary singer. A band was playing full blast, at times we couldn’t hear ourselves eating!
We got up and down Main Street, and it is the main street, on the trolley system. $1 each way. This took us to the area where Martin Luther King was assassinated, the Lorraine Motel.
The Motel and surrounding buildings are much the same. There is a permanent wreath on the railing outside the room where he was shot. The National Civil Rights Museum is housed there.
Memphis is also a town of murals. Celebrating music, musicians, civil rights themes, football, basketball and stuff you can’t work out! They abound on buildings in many streets and alleys.
The biggest attraction though in Memphis is the King of Rock n Roll; Elvis Presley and Graceland.
But more about him and this extraordinary place Graceland, next time!
O’l Man River
Off to the United States today for a month. Visiting Mitchell in Houston.
This is our first international flight in four years. COVID interrupted travel has kept us on the ground. The joys of airports abound in having to get there three hours before take off, participating in the technological revolution of contactless checking in, a long wait in a queue if there is some issue that the machine can’t cope with, like multiple stops on the way to the destination.
Then there is of course the need for a tea and coffee and some overpriced raisin toast to fill in some time before the plane opens its doors. On the other hand getting through security and border control was a breeze! Now sitting at the gate with an hour to go.
Before Houston we are heading for Memphis to join a paddle wheeler on the lower Mississippi River down to New Orleans for seven days. One of those bucket list trips. It will be worth the airline tucker to get to Memphis, going to take about 30 hours including stopovers in Auckland and Chicago.
Graceland and Elvis in Memphis ……..here we come!
Back in Brisbane
We have arrived back home in Brisbane and have been perusing the held mail pile that has been delivered. Slobro is puzzled about all the post cards we have received from some people signing as ‘R & L’ travelling overseas.
“They have been to the very same places we have just been to”, isn’t that strange? Allthego suggested it was just an odd coincidence. Slobro has now been put in a cupboard until next time.
On the sail across the ‘ditch’ from New Zealand we experienced the heaviest seas of the whole cruise. Some 4 to 5 metre swells and strong winds, the ship was getting along at 21 knots for most of the time. A bit of harmless rocking and rolling with the occasional ‘bump’ as the ship nosed into a wave.
We had planned to rise early for the sail through the Sydney Harbour Heads, timed for about 5 am. Slobro rose early around 4 am, but rolled over and didn’t wake us till after 5.30. We were coming into Circular Quay, next to the Bridge and opposite the Opera House. Great spot but we had missed the sail in!
We had 1200 or so fellow passengers getting off the ship here, to be replaced by a similar number joining us for the ongoing cruise after Brisbane. We had planned an easy morning aboard the ship before walking around to the Opera House to see the current run of Miss Saigon. The rules in Aus are similar to what we experienced in New York, everybody off the ship to go through immigration and then you can get back on! Duly done we returned to the ship for a light lunch before heading to the show.
‘Miss Saigon’ was a block buster a really spectacular spectacle of stage, light and sound. Singing pretty good too! Allthego liked the holographic helicopter scenes when the evacuations were being done from Saigon at the ‘end’ of the war. The theatre was filled with the throbbing of engines and blades. Amazing work!
Back on board the ship we sailed away around 7 pm as the city lights were coming on. Truly one of the great harbours of the world! Disappeared into the blackness as we passed through the Heads and turned north for Brisbane.
On the last night before Brisbane we managed to get in another episode of ‘The Love Boat’. Dear readers will recall this classic show from way back dealing with life and love aboard the Pacific Princess. What characters and plots, days before political correctness. We managed to see about 24 episodes. Allthego has refreshed his joke repertoire with some classics. Just has to remember the punch lines!
We have been blessed to have seen much on this cruise. Snapshots of places we will probably not get to again. A few bucket list places; Iceland and Greenland, Easter Island, the Suez and Panama Canals. Along the way we also saw places where the ‘other half’ live and work. ‘Other half’ though is more like 70%. We live in a fortunate part of the world and should do a lot more for our own perhaps 15%.
‘It’s good to be back home’, that’s a John Denver song Homealone recalls.
Land of the long white cloud.
We have left Tahiti for Auckland. On the last leg home! But it will take 6 sea days to get there. Allthego finds these long periods of sea days a little wearing. I think I have previously said that one can sit in the lounges, shut your eyes and not know you are moving. Time stands still until you realise it is lunch time. Still, I have read 4 books on this cruise. Haven’t done that for a long time! Homealone focussed on craft to while away the time. A daily game of trivia tests the memory.
On the second day out from Tahiti we have a change of course due to a passenger medical emergency. The poor woman has to be offloaded at the earliest opportunity and we head for Rarotonga in the Cook Islands. We will still make Auckland on schedule.
The sea conditions off Rarotonga are far from ideal with a heavy swell and a brisk wind. To add to the drama one of the ship’s dining room staff has had a bad fall and needs to be stretchered off as well. Normally, you get in a tender at sea level (Deck 4) but because of the difficult seas the tender is loaded with the patients and medical staff at Deck 7, which is about 8 metres above the waterline. The tender is then lowered to the water and heads off as soon as possible bobbing around in the swell.
The whole process was done very professionally, no hiccups. We later hear that the operation was successful and the staff member was OK.
The cruise ends in Auckland for most of the Kiwis on board so the ‘Knitters and Natters’ put on a display of their work during the cruise. Quite impressive, Homealone participates with her Physi rug, Allthego’s Iceland beanie and some other bits and pieces. Someone wanted to buy the Physi rug (which is to be a prize for our local Physical Culture Club) but got knocked back.
Passengers can wander around and observe all the Knitters nattering and also check out the work.
The six days at sea came to an end as we sailed into Auckland Harbour and docked at Queens Wharf right amongst all the action on the waterfront.
We had planned for a quiet morning having a look around and lunch before Allthego completing the Harbour Bridge climb in the afternoon.
The climb was very interesting with great views of the city skyline and harbour. Some commentary about the politics of its construction was provided. The Bridge was completed in 1959 and was the last major bridge to be constructed in the world with the old girders, welding and rivets techniques. Three workers died during its construction. Safety equipment was negligible back then, two plunged into the harbour falling off the girders. The other was unaccounted for and it is thought he fell into the concrete being poured for one of the pylons.
The climb took about two and a half hours all up. Not super demanding but a little stiffness of limbs set in later that night.
We sailed north that night for the Bay of Islands. Another easy day planned here no tours just a wander around Paihai, the town where we are taken ashore in tenders. Much calmer compared to Rarotonga!
The Bay of Islands is a wonderful place, blue sea dotted with small islands and sandy beaches. Made famous in the 1920s for Marlin fishing by Zane Gray! For those who remember the old TV show ‘Pic a Box’ I think the hosts Bob and Dolly Dyer also fished here? We were also here a few years ago on a cruise with Homealone’s siblings and partners, but we didn’t go Marlin fishing.
The place doesn’t seem to have changed much! We had lunch at the Zane Gray restaurant, best fish n chips yet!
We upped anchor mid afternoon in brilliant sunshine and set off to round the northern tip of the North Island bound for Old Sydney Town.
Tahiti
Tahiti is sought of in the middle of nowhere, sitting more or less midway between South America and Australia. We arrived here in promising weather, notwithstanding the threat of rain in the ship’s weather forecast. The Coral Princess docked up pretty much opposite the main street of Papeete, the capital, running along the waterfront. No need for shuttles, either water or buses. Apart from the local Polynesian language, French is the main lingo here. Seems out of place so far from France! Maybe the locals think it is, but most of them voted to stay with good old France in a not so recent referendum.
There is some blue sky and a light breeze as we set off on our ‘circle the island’ tour, the plan is to be back for a late lunch on the ship.
The trip is an interesting journey along the coast taking in some of the sights. There is a Grotto beside the road, the water disappears into the back of the cave.
The Grotto is set among some attractive gardens and waterfalls, displaying native vegetation. We have stops further along at the Arahoho blowhole. The sea swell though is coming from the wrong angle today and so the blowhole is a bit quiet.
Slobro enjoys the nearby black sand beach and tempts fate sitting on a rock as a wave rolls up the beach.
By this time we are starting to get some rain sprinkles, but the rain holds off for our stop at Venus Point. This where Cook went to witness and record the transit of Venus across the Sun in 1769 and then later went on to sail up the east coast of Australia.
Today the location is a popular spot for the locals to enjoy the parkland and black sand beach. The Mutiny on the Bounty is also remembered here with an obelisk. As we continue around the Island the rain starts in earnest and the spectacular view from One Tree Hill over Matavai Bay is shrouded in cloud. Cook used a red flowered tree on the top of the hill as a navigation aide.
We made it back to the dock on time and after a quick lunch we returned ashore for a wander around Papeete. Being a Saturday most of the shops, including the Market, had closed at 1pm. We were still able to buy a stamp in a general type store for the usual postcard back to Australia. The shop had a small box with a sign promising to post our mail for us.
We had a quick look inside the Papeete Cathedral, very different to the European ones we have seen. Back on the waterfront there was the big replica sea going canoe pointing out to sea.
Time for an early dinner snack, so we enjoyed some tapas selections at a bar jutting out into the harbour. Great views as the sun set over Moorea island just offshore.
It seemed to us that we had just scratched the surface of Tahiti, let alone the other islands that make up French Polynesia. Might be worth another visit!
We now head for New Zealand and four days at sea before reaching Auckland. We have to cross the International Date Line on this sector and Slobro is pondering what this means. Hopefully, it will all be clear soon!
Pitcairn Island
Pitcairn Island is our next ‘place of interest’ on the cruise. We did not go ashore here but cruised up to Bounty Bay and lingered there for awhile to take photos of this iconic spot.
There are I believe at the last count 49 people living on the island, many of whom are descendent from the Bounty Mutineers who had settled there. The current mayor though is a recent arrival from the UK.
We have on board a fellow cruiser who is related to one of the residents. The ship arranged a call to the island so the two could speak, some of the conversation was broadcast over the ship’s PA system. Interesting chat, particularly the strange variant of English spoken which is a blend of Polynesian and 18th century English.
We have been ‘blessed’ by some onboard lectures about Captain Bligh and the Mutiny, including his epic row to present day Indonesia from around Tahiti somewhere. Long way in a little boat with 18 companions. It seems that those movies with Clarke Cable, Marlon Brando and Mel Gibson played with the truth a bit and overly demonised Bligh.
We spent about an hour and half offshore the island, including a sail around it for a full view of the landscape. Quite an impressive hideaway and a spot to get away from it all, but there no retirement villages.
Back in our cabin we found Slobro in quite a lather. He was examining the map and was quite distressed as he had observed that we were now quite close to the edge of the world and the places we had visited over the last couple of stops were not even on the map.
Convinced him that we would reach New Zealand OK and that he needed to look backwards in order to see that we were going forwards because the earth wasn’t flat like he had thought. Just can’t wait to explain the International Date Line to him in the near future.
We are now headed for Tahiti, with three days at sea. It is a big ocean indeed.
Rapa Nui
Rapa Nui is the indigenous name for Easter Island, the remotest populated island in the world. It is a volcanic island which rises 3000 metres above the sea floor, the area of its base on the sea floor is 50 times bigger than the area on the surface. It is about 2300 miles from Chile’s coast and 2500 miles east of Tahiti.
It is a triangular shape with three dormant volcanoes of various ages at each corner. The land mass between the volcanoes was slowly formed following eruptions from the numerous cones, mounds and vents within the triangle. It is quite a dramatic landscape.
It is a bit of pot luck as to whether we were going to be able to get ashore. The ship has to anchor offshore and there is frequently a swell that prevents tenders from getting ashore. We are in luck though and whilst there is a bit of a swell it is just short of the size that would prevent us getting off. People though who are ‘unstable’ on their feet are discouraged from the attempt and some are just stopped by the crew. The tender boat does jump around a bit beside the pontoon making it a little concerning for Slobro.
We have stopped here to have a look at the famous massive stone carvings known as Moai (statues). They are quite fascinating and one wonders why and how they were made in the first place. Let alone how they were transported from the quarry where they were carved to where they were erected. Up to 18 kilometres by a society that had no mechanical aids. Then why were they all knocked over, in the main ‘face first’?
The answers to these questions we were told are far from fully understood. It is believed that the island was settled by Polynesians from other parts of the Pacific around 800-1200 AD. The Moai are thought to be representations of these people’s deified ancestors. They were erected on flat rock platforms where the ancestors were buried.
Apart from one case the Moai all face inland and away from the sea and the people tended to gather in a village in front of the statues, as if the statues are looking over them. In one case seven statues look out over the ocean, it is thought these statues (the seven explorers) are looking towards where they have come from across the sea. Who knows!
The misty rainy weather we experienced in the morning gave way to sun and blue sky in the afternoon. So we have seen the Island in both moods.
Then around 1500-1850 the carving stopped and the Moai were all knocked down, perhaps part of some change in society structure or beliefs.
On our walk around the ‘quarry’ area we saw numerous partly finished Moai, including one where the statue was partly carved and still in place in the rock bed. It is all a bit complicated to explain, but once the carving was partially complete and the statue ‘released’ from the bed rock it was slid somehow down the hill into a hole so that it could be stood up.
The workers would then complete the finer details before then transporting it somehow to the prescribed destination. We saw many of the statues still in the holes on the side of quarry, the carving aborted, staring out across the landscape. Some were also partially buried with the holes having filled with debris and earth over the years.
There have been many theories as to how they were moved. From being rolled along on logs to the current favourite of being ‘walked’ much like we ‘walk’ fridges around houses today. Ropes were tied to the Moai’s head and it was then rocked to move it along. There was a team on either side to do this and another at the back to stabilise the movement. This theory follows the traditional belief of the people that the Moai walked themselves through spiritual power.
Archaeologists have reerected about 50 of the Moai, there are about 850 remaining in their knocked over positions.
All quite fascinating.
The last group of Moai we see are the famous 15 that we often see in tourist magazines. They sit beside the sea where they have been reerected. Quite a spectacular sight!
Our tour was a bit late back to the pier and we got back onboard about 7.30pm. We are setting a course for Pitcairn Island, it will take a couple of days to get there and already Mutiny on the Bounty tales are being told.
Allthegobro 