April 18, 2002 Honiara, Solomon Islands
We survived another ocean voyage. It still surprises me when we arrive in one piece and basically in our right minds. It seems like the sort of experience that should kill you or send you to the nearest loony bin.
The ship’s toilet, for example. The toilet room is about 4 feet wide, and the doorknob sometimes does not lock very well. It adds excitement to the event, not knowing if the door is going to pop open at a strategic moment. I always hang on to the knob for privacy’s sake.
Another interesting thing about the ship’s toilet is the liquid on the floor. I try not to think about that too much, just be charitable and assume that some nice clean water sloshed out at some point. Oh, and there’s no TP, so you have to bring your own along.
So this morning, there I was, hanging on to the door with one hand and my roll of TP with the other, soggy at the ankles and trying to hold my skirt up out of the “water”. I had a fresh tampon gripped between my teeth like a flamenco dancer nibbles a rose, wondering what I would let go of in order to proceed.
All I could think was, “How in the heck did I ever get here?” I mean, what series of bizarre events led me, a somewhat normal American person, into the toilet of the MV Kaona?
But to balance this bit of nastiness, we had Seaworld Solomons. A pod of dolphins came alongside the bow of the ship and swam with us for ages. They were just cruising along, hardly moving a muscle, it seemed. They could have dusted us in a heartbeat, but they were just out for a stroll. All of a sudden, they’d had enough and took off for open water.
Thinking back on all the ship travel I’ve endured here, it seems the experiences fall into those two extremes: the sublime and the horrific.
I think I will look back on the whole Solomons experience that way. There have been times of sublime happiness and times of horrific pain.
It’s just life.
Weird, but life.
What is 31 Days of 2002? And what possessed me to do this? Read about it here.