Guest Blog by Embry

Joe has kindly offered me the opportunity to do a “guest blog,” while we are going through the Chilean Fjords.  I’m sure he will soon be writing to you about the beauty of this remote part of the world.

In the meantime, I am going to write about the thing that impressed me most soon after we got on the ship. That is the prevalence of older couples.  It immediately struck me that we were surrounded by people who looked a lot like us.  This is not what I am used to in Washington, D.C. or most other places we go these days.  I was shocked!  Where did all these people come from?  At the risk of sounding totally politically incorrect, the preponderance of people on the ship look to be older “plain vanilla” types (ie. heterosexual, white couples). They walk around just like we do, holding hands and (looking to be) comfortable just being together for 33 days with not much to do. 

Quite a few years ago Joe and I were invited to the Washington Cathedral to have our marriage blessed among others who had been married 25+ years or more.  At that time (at about age 60) I felt very young, and expected to be surrounded by really old people who had been married for ages and ages. To my shock and surprise, Joe and I (who had at that time been married about 40 years) were called up among the longest marriages in the Cathedral.  That really set me to thinking about what the ingredients of a long marriage consist of.  I concluded it involves lot of luck (to have found the right person, and persevered through some hard times together), to have been blessed with good health, and to have married young.  We were in our early twenties when we married, and during our generation many of those early marriages did not survive. I came away from that service feeling both blessed by the Bishop and blessed by our God-given fortune to have such a (generally) happy and long-lived marriage.  Now, over 10 years later, we will soon celebrate 54 years together.

As I got acclimated to the boat and thought about our fellow shipmates, I began to realize that we were among a lot of people who look and act a lot like we do. It is not surprising that folks who want to spend a fair amount of money to be with someone for 33+ days must be:  retired with the time to do it (therefore aged 60+); relatively prosperous; and happily partnered.  So there was a selection process going that lead to this situation.  Still, it also made me forecast that we were to have some boring times ahead when we met and talked to our fellow shipmates over dinner.  

I am happy to report that the conversations we have over dinner are anything but boring. While many of the couples we sit with are in the “plain vanilla” category, they come from many countries and walks of life.  We have heard fascinating stories of their travels and their past experiences pursuing a variety of occupations.  They come from many countries (mostly the U.S., Canada and Europe).  And, while you have to look a little harder for them, we have met people of a variety of skin colors, some gay couples, and lots of single people (mainly older women). 

Two books I am reading on the trip have given me insights into what makes up a long and happy marriage.  In Don Quixote (LONG but good), written at a time when most marriages were arranged, Cervantes says, “Love and natural inclination readily blind those eyes of the mind that are so necessary in making life’s important decisions; and when it comes to choosing a mate, there is especial danger of going astray, and great caution and the grace of Heaven are needed if one is to be guided aright.“ So true!  I am also reading First Family:  Abigail and John Adams by Joe Ellis. He says he wrote this dual biography to explore the “…startling capacity for a man and a woman—husband and wife—to sustain their love other a lifetime filled with daunting challenges.”  It is reassuring to me to learn that, in our secular world where marriages do not receive as much support from society as they did in the past, we are not alone in this quest to sustain a long-term partnership throughout a lifetime.  Did I mention that I have proposed a voyage around Africa (taking two months)?  Joe is skeptical, but thinking about it.

Southern Exposure 12: The Chilean Fiords, Part 1

On Sunday, November 3, the Zaandam departed the San Antonio harbor in the late afternoon in brisk winds and heavy seas. Our latitude was about 45 degrees, right in the middle of what sailors call the Roaring Forties, where the wind howls most of the time– the kind of weather we were expecting. The sun was out, however, and the sea was sparkling. As the huge rollers hit the cliffs near the harbor, their spray reached 40 or 50 feet. 

When we woke up the following morning, seas appeared calm with  towering cliffs  on both sides, not far from the ship. Overnight we had entered the northernmost part of the Chilean fiords, the first day of what would be three days meandering in these protected waters. As the depth of the channel permitted, the Zaandam coasted along.  I positioned  myself on the  aft deck for almost the entire day taking photographs and marveling at what ranks among the best that Mother Nature has to offer.  The Chilean fiords are right up there with Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, the Yellow Mountains in China, Lake Baikal in Russia and Mount Fuji in Japan. Bucket list material for sure.

Unfortunately, it  was not too long before we made a sharp right turn, taking us due west toward the ocean. As we turned into the wind, white caps started to form, and we could begin to feel the strong breeze. The captain’s somber voice came on the ship’s public address system alerting us to a change in plans. Our original course had us headed out of the channel the next day  in the direction of a major storm to the south, producing gale force winds and seas of over 30 feet high. In order to avert extremely difficult cruising conditions, he had made the decision to cancel our first stop in the fiord in order to get a jump on the storm in order to  make it back  into the fiords before the worst of the storm hit. 

It did not take long to understand why he had made that decision. When the Zaandam  left the protected waters and entered the Pacific, we were slammed by howling winds and huge waves. White caps were everywhere making the sea look like a giant cappuccino. Suddenly it was not all that easy to keep your balance. Sea sickness bags began appearing in common areas, and the captain came on the address system again  to announce that for safety reasons, all doors to the outside decks had been locked and the elevators shut down. All the water had been drained out of both swimming pools.  The captain said that the temperature outside was 46 degrees and the sustained winds were 42 knots gusting to over 50 knots.  Keeping on your feet required holding on to railings.

All morning Embry and I sat in the Crow’s Nest, a bar and gathering area on Deck 9, the top deck, peering out the window through the fog and rain, watching monster waves crash across the bow of the ship with spray at times reaching the window in front of us, some 90 feet above the sea, 

We did finally get some relief from the rocking and rolling in the afternoon when we were able to make the next passage  back into the fiords, just missing the  predicted storm waves of  30 or more feet, almost twice the size of what we had been plowing through. Unfortunately, however, in the afternoon the rain and mist settled in again. All we could  see were eerie, gray silhouettes of mountains and an occasional fleeting glimpse of a towering snow capped peak and  waterfalls draining melting snow into the ocean. 

Then close to five pm as if on cue, the rain stopped, the mist began to rise, blue patches of sky appeared, and the snowcapped peaks showed off their full glory.

About an hour later, the ship paused in front of a glacier, a bluish ice pack about 50 feet deep beginning at the top of a large mountain and extending all the way down to the sea. Even though the rain had started up again and the mist had returned, the aft deck was crowded with fellow travelers snapping photos of the glacier, the snowcapped mountains and the blue fiord. Despite the frigid temperatures and  howling wind, they were asking, I suppose, the same question I was asking: When will we ever see anything quite like this again?

Southern Exposure 11: Day 16, Chile.

On Thursday evening, October 31, Halloween, the Zaandam, escorted by tugs, inched its way into the crowded harbor of San Antonio, Chile’s largest port, located about 70 miles from Santiago and 50 miles from Valparaiso. We were supposed to stop in another port a few hundred miles to the north, but that was considered too dangerous due to the violence sweeping the country. As soon as we docked  in San Antonia, we learned that every excursion the next day had been cancelled for security reasons, and passengers were encouraged to remain on the ship at all times.

So what is happening in Chile? For more than two weeks, massive demonstrations have been occurring all over the country but especially in the two largest cities, both close to us, Santiago with a population of almost five million and Valparaiso with over 800,000. Over 2,800 people have been arrested and 2,500 injured. As of today, 19 protestors have been killed. The country is in a state of emergency with the army called out to restore order. Martial law is in effect. 

Welcome to Chile!

Over the years Chile has had its up and downs. We old folks from the US probably  remember Allende, the Socialist leader who in the 1970s  was overthrown by a military junta, possibly with help from our CIA, ushering in the 20-year dictatorship of Pinochet when thousands of Chileans were imprisoned, tortured or simply vanished in what then was one of the world’s most repressive regimes. But those days are long past; and for the past 20 years, leaders have been elected democratically, and the country has been relatively stable producing one of the strongest economies in South America.

So what went wrong? It is the same old, same old story that we are now witnessing all over the planet and in the U.S.– globalism’s winners and losers. While Chili’s economy was growing due in part to world trade, income disparities were increasing. The rich were getting richer and the poor were getting poorer, and the size of the middle class was shrinking. What initially sparked the unrest was a transit fare hike in Santiago, which ignited demonstrations. It did not help that the president of the country, Sebastian Pinera, a billionaire, was photographed eating at a fancy restaurant when the first demonstrators were being shot. The demonstrations quickly spread to other areas of the country, and the issues broadened from transit fares to economic justice. No one knows where this is headed or how it will end. 

All I can say is that they have a lot of nerve to start a revolution just when we arrive and are ready to see the sights.

But does a violent revolution deter one Embry Martin Howell, who only three weeks ago was herself in Mali where just yesterday another 40 or 50 innocent civilizations were murdered by revolutionaries? Hey, compared to Mali, Chili is a cakewalk. In less than an hour she had been on the internet and arranged for a private guide to take us around. My only question was whether she knew if he was armed.

So as it turned out, we got our own private tour to the area around San  Antonio after all. A few of the other frustrated–and brave –passengers apparently found local guides also since as we left the heavily guarded port, we noticed a bunch of drivers holding cards with their client’s name on them. 

So the next morning at eight a smiling Gabriel, a man probably in his early 40s and a pretty good English speaker, met us. Hiring your own guard—pardon, “guide”—is a bit expensive, but it does provide some opportunities that you can’t get on a group excursion with 25 or 30 other passengers. Probably most important is that it gives you a chance to meet  local people and to find out a lot about them and their lives. This was for me the best part of our around–the-world-trip in 2015 during our one-month tour of China when we visited 11 cities with a different, local, private guide each time, often spending two or three days with them. That gives you a lot of time to talk, listen and learn.

Gabriel spoke good English because he had  lived in New York City for several years when his wife, a lawyer, was part of the Chilean delegation to the U.N. She tragically died from breast cancer a few years ago, and now Gabriel has remarried, has a two-year-old daughter, and lives with his family in an apartment in Santiago. Being a tour guide is not the best job you can have in Chile, but you would have to call him solidly middle class. He is college educated, smart, and entrepreneurial. However, he is not a happy camper. He sides with the protestors and believes that life in Chili has been rigged to benefit the rich and hurt the middle class. He points to the same problems that we have in the U.S. and believes you need a strong leader to bring about justice and fairness. And who might that leader be in the U.S.? You got it: Donald Trump.

Now Gabriel is not stupid. He is not prejudiced. His values are solid.  He is a loving husband and proud father. He has experienced personal suffering. He is, quite simply, a nice guy and was a delight to be with. Yet he sees Trump as the solution to the economic disparities and divisions affecting the world, not part of the problem. Bottom line: we (bleeding heart liberals and progressives) don’t get it. I don’t get it. Until we do get it, however, we are not going to be able to heal the divisions that divide us.

The time with Gabriel was special. On a splendid day with sunny skies, temperatures in the low 70s, and low humidity, he drove us through the beautiful, peaceful countryside with hills dotted with olive and eucalyptus tress, then along vast vineyards, and finally to Valparaiso, the port city about 50 miles to the north, described as the San Francisco of South America. Since a lot of the protests and demonstrations have occurred here, when we got to the downtown area, we were relieved to see very little evidence of it, perhaps because it was still early on a Saturday morning. The old Colonial city is compared to San Francisco because  of the steep hills covered with houses that seem to be stacked on top of each other. 

Other similarities are its dynamic port, its prestigious colleges and universities, and its hip culture of artists and intellectuals. 

What Valparaiso has that San Francisco does not have are  its famous murals. Gabriel informed us that Valparaiso has more murals than any city in the world except Sao Paulo and by far the most on a per capita basis. That would appear to be true, but what is even more impressive is its street graffiti that surpasses anything I have ever seen. To say every building in the city is covered with graffiti is an overstatement by not by much. And a lot of it is actually quite good. As one who basically thinks graffiti is hideous and is best described as urban kudzu, I was surprised to find myself actually enthralled by a lot of it. Seeing this graffiti was by itself worth the visit. 

And then there were the dogs. Stray dogs, fat stray dogs. Not on every corner but surely on a lot of them. These animals run wild, lounge in the middle of sidewalks as they please, chase cars for fun, and poop when and where they want. The signs directing owners to clean up after their pets fall on deaf ears. Who feeds these animals anyway, and why are they all either black or yellow?  And why do they mainly run around or sprawl  on sidewalks in pairs?

After lunch with Gabriel, we drove back through wine country stopping for a tour and wine tasting at one of the smaller vineyards, specializing in traditional wine making techniques. The area to us looked a lot like California and I suppose that was no surprise since our  guide at the winery observed that the equivalent location of the Chilean wine country we were visiting in Chile in the Northern Hemisphere would be Sonoma County in California.

 All in all a great day and a safe one despite the dire predictions and precautions regarding mob or police violence. It also marked the mid point of the cruise when about two-thirds of the passengers departed and were replaced by new ones who flew  to Santiago to join the cruise.

The new fear has to do with the weather. A major storm is predicted to affect us and to bring with it gale force winds and waves of 30 feet and higher with even taller swells. This dire forecast  has forced the captain to cancel going to the  next port (and all planned excursions there) in an effort to dodge the bullet of this monster, but at this stage it is not clear how that will happen,  where we are going instead, or what it will mean. Stay tuned.

Southern Exposure 10: Typical Tough Day At Sea

So how do travelers manage to get through a day cruising along in ships like the Zaandam? It is true that there is a lot of stress. So many decisions to make. First there is breakfast. Do you want to eat in the elegant, full service dining room or in the casual buffet venue on the top deck? And how do you begin to choose between all the food selections available? 

After you have managed to make a decision and have finished a sumptuous breakfast, then you are faced with what to do next. You can sit in one of the dozen or so venues looking out at the vast  sea, but which one? The library? The pool area? The main lounge or mini lounge or maxi lounge or aft deck?

But maybe you don’t want to sit and look out at the sparkling blue waters decorated with whitecaps.  Maybe you want something more. Every hour there are about a dozen choices: baking classes, classes on preparing desserts, another on appetizers or one on fish recipes. There is always an option of learning about how eating more translates to losing pounds or why calories don’t count. Just thinking about these options makes you hungry, so it is time for your first cappuccino and an oversized, freshly-baked donut or croissant  at the Deck 4 café. Now fortified you are ready for a game of competitive bridge or mahjong or chess or a lesson on how to play one of these games. But you don’t want to miss the talk about how to buy the perfect diamond or how to use Microsoft products or a class in chocolate tasting. These tough choices cause more stress, which can  be ameliorated  only with another cappuccino and croissant.

You look at your watch and realize it is time for the first major presentation of the day in the large theater, a lecture on what to eat on board. You rush to get a seat only to find that this lecture is SRO, so it is back to the café. Now you are ready for something more serious, so it is time to finish your coffee and sweetroll in the salon area where a classical pianist and violinist are playing Mozart sonatas. After the concert you wander up to the pool where people are sunning and splashing around in a small pool and order a Bloody Mary to calm your nerves before lunch.

There are so many lunch options  you don’t know where to start. Of course you could try the main dining room or perhaps the exclusive, extra cost, gourmet restaurant, but you are not really dressed properly. You could do the buffet, but that tends to be crowded at lunch time. So you settle on the café in the pool area and get a plate full of tacos and a large salad, followed by an ice cream Sunday. 

Now it is time for a nap, but that will mean missing your favorite activity, the trivia quiz contest, next to bingo,  the most popular of all the activities on the ship. So you sign up to be on a team and do pretty well, but not so well as to reduce all the stress, so it is time  to calm your nerves by attending  high tea, followed by a lecture in the main theater about the culinary delights of Central Asia. After this you have to decide between a class in ballroom dancing or  learning the tango, a stressful decision, so you decide to order a gin and tonic and relax in one of the lounge chairs by the enclosed pool on the top deck before returning to your room to dress for dinner where you will be seated with nice, well-traveled people  from all over the world, whom you don’t know and  may never talk to again.  The conversation at dinner is about mutual interests associated with travel, avoiding any mention of politics, as you sip wine and think about whether you want to take in the evening song and dance act or to watch the ship’s movie or stop in the bar with the jazz singer. This choice, of course, leads to more stress but not enough to spoil your delicious three-course meal followed by a scrumptious dessert. After dinner, you decide you have time to try one or two hands of blackjack in the casino, which is stressful because you lose fifty bucks and can’t  decide whether after  attending the evening entertainment in the main theater, you want to take in the bar scene on the upper deck or call it quits for the day.

So yeah, it is tough being on these cruises. There is just too much stress, but not so much as to spoil the experience or keep you from repeating the cycle the next day.