Whoa Nellie!

Friday, March 19
For the past two days we’ve had the worst seas so far this trip. It was pretty miserable. We had 8 to 10 ft. swells head-on with a stiff wind coming from starboard, which made this little ship (it’s only carrying about 650 passengers and 340 crew) buck and sway in a circular motion that felt like being on one of those merry-go-rounds that you used to find in public parks—the kind where the bully kid gets the thing going at break-neck speed until the little kids onboard start throwing up or falling off. Gee, I wonder why they don’t have those things in parks anymore…?

Saturday, March 20
Anyway, today—Saturday—it’s calm and flat as a lake. We turned the corner at the southeast point of the largest island of Papua New Guinea and we’re heading for New Britain (which is a part of PNG). So we’re out of the rough Coral Sea and into the calmer waters off the Solomon Islands. We’re not sure why we’re stopping at Rabaul, PNG. It seems like a most unlucky place (similar to Haiti, but south of the Equator). It’s been wrecked over and over again by volcanic eruptions, typhoons, tsunamis, and when the Japanese took it over in WWII they bombed the heck out of it and, once they invaded, they riddled the hillsides with tunnels to hide their weapons and assault troops. In other words, it’s not a garden spot. But we’re docking there, so I guess we’ll see what we see.

Sunday, March 21
Rabaul was one hot mama. Nearly ninety degrees and about 110% humidity. As promised, it provided the perfect backdrop for a Peace Corps recruiting poster. The town is pretty much rusted tins roofs (many of which had blown off), crumbling concrete and rotting debris. The roads are dirt (or mud). There are eight active volcanoes in the area (many are still smoking) and the last devastating volcanic flow which destroyed Rabaul for the umpteenth time was in 1994. The people chew a mild narcotic called betel nut which they spit everywhere. It’s a bright red color and the adults all had garish red mouths, stained from years of chewing the nut. We were greeted by a large phalanx of children in their school uniforms (a plain blue or pink cotton shirt and pants or skirt), which may be their only clothing (or perhaps it’s their Sunday best). The schools appear to be Christian-run, as the uniforms had crosses and St. This or That on the shirt pocket. The kids followed us everywhere, pointing us to the only open grocery store. The people who lined the road trying to sell stuff to people from the ship were friendly, but the poverty was staggering. We saw grizzled women with no teeth who are probably younger than I am. No fat people in sight (except from the ship). Most everyone was barefoot, but occasionally you see someone wearing worn rubber flip-flops. We wanted to buy some souvenirs but since it’s a Sunday the main market was closed. We settled for exchanging a few dollars for the local currency and buying Tom a little wooden mask and a simple coin necklace for me. We’re only here for six hours, leaving for Chu’uk in Micronesia right after lunch.