A Sea Change 12 Watching The Paper Mercedes Burn

 The ports of call looked as though they were set up for a photo shoot in the cruise brochure. We acted like the tourists we were, flaneurs, lounging or strolling about as onlookers, not on the boulevards of Paris but on guided tours, with little opportunity or desire to actually experience the lives we observed. This was sanitary sightseeing: food, water, accommodations and sights were all clean and neat. We were no longer expatriates or travelers.

In Java we climbed the temple of Borobudur, watched ox races and released baby turtles to the sea. In Kuala Lumpur we stood in a Chinese temple watching the paper Mercedes and houses burn during an incense laden funeral. We relaxed in rickshaws in Penang on the way to a restaurant filled with banks of orchids flourishing in the tropical damp. A stop in Phuket offered the opportunity to ride an elephant. In the Maldives we snorkeled with myriads of brightly colored little fishes before helping the chef select larger fish for dinner at the market. We took in the sights of Cochin with its canals and nearly empty Jew Town before atding a service in a Hindu temple in Mangalore where the priests rang bells, clashed cymbals and beat drums in deafening sounds to call their gods. The seething carpet of humanity in Mumbai appeared beyond the Gate of India erected by the British in the days when empires were thought to last forever.

Judith Works (to be continued)

A Sea Change 11 Elusive Green Flash

 The flash, visible for less than a second, is an optical phenomenon when a green ray shoots up from the sunset point just as the sun sinks into the ocean. Green curves more than red/orange making that light visible after the red rays are obstructed by the curvature of the earth. The flash comes from the refraction of light as in a prism. Whenever we were rewarded with the show, a shout went up: “I saw it!” 

The brilliant tropical sunset brought an end to each perfect sunny day. After dinner, we left the others to enjoy the little casino or Las Vegas-style entertainment while we sat on deck thinking of our future life and watching the stars and the white wake shimmering in the moonlight as it was endlessly left behind.

Judith Works (to be continued)

A Sea Change 10 Round-The-World Cruise

 The captain contacted the boat by radio learning that a family, husband, wife and small child, were on a long passage of their years-long round-the-world cruise. They had left the last port with inadequate provisions. The crew began to lower the captain’s rubber runabout. The galley crew loaded up champagne, sandwiches, fruit and more durable ships stores. The ebullient captain, always ready for some fun whether it was feeling me up, reciting poetry or joking with passengers, fired up the outboard engine and we lined the rails watching him whizzing off to deliver the susance with a flourish. The husband waved one of the champagne bottles in thanks. The runabout and our captain were hoisted back up and we sailed on, soon leaving the family far behind on their lonely voyage. 

An inviolate sundown ritual was celebrated whenever we were far from land. Everyone gathered with their champagne glasses to watch the sunset, hoping for a glimpse of the elusive “green flash.”

Judith Works (to be continued)

A Sea Change 9 She Grabbed Both Huge Breasts

 Mother was swimming in oil money, the proceeds being displayed around her neck and on her fingers. She let us know that money meant nothing as she had so much of it. The daughter told us that she was employed as a bra fitter, and then, proud of her own assets (original or not) she spotted the ship’s photographer heading our way. Without missing a word in the tale of her exciting career, she grabbed both huge breasts and plopped them on the table for the photographer and us to enjoy. We were struck speechless at the crude display. Her mother didn’t notice a thing. Instead, she started on a new conversational gambit: what did ships do when a passenger died? The good doctor was then in his own glory as he told us about the morgue on every cruise ship. We skipped dessert. 

Languid days slid by, each one hot and sunny with no breeze or even clouds on the horizon. The sea was usually empty but one day a small yacht came in view.

Judith Works (to be continued)