Saturday, March 14, 2009
Pusser's Pub and the Order to Abandon Ship: March 4
We woke up in Tortola, part of the British Virgin Islands. The stats on the TV pegged the humidity at 100%. Nice.
We convinced a reluctant cab driver to take us to Sage Mountain National Park. In the shared cab some people from Augusta, GA talked about the potential bankruptcy of Blockbuster. Polly asked if we could talk about puppies and kittens since we were on vacation and had steadfastly refused to watch any news on the sketchy TV coverage in our stateroom.
We met some lovely women from San Diego. We agreed to share a cab back to town. The woman in the kiosk at the entrance to the park said, “I have some things to say. It will be $3 per person.” Apparently that’s all she had to say, because she didn’t say anything else until we all paid. Then in front of everyone she said to Polly, “Your husband's going to have to zip up.” After an embarrassing moment, she added, "his backpack." One of the pockets on my backpack was undone. Whew.
Before we started out I went into the small snack bar where a woman was in there watching Maury Povitch. I came out and told everyone I was just going to stay there and watch instead of going on the hike. Got a few chuckles. We made it to the old fig tree and caught up with the ladies from San Diego. Polly was experiencing a blood sugar low, and the ladies offered her an apple. It was a nice gesture.
We hit the highest peak in the British Virgin Isles and then it was down to Road Town for lunch. We convinced a skeptical cab driver that we wanted to go to Roti Palace and he reluctantly pointed us the way. Apparently roti is a West Indies/Carribean/Indian thing where flatbread is wrapped around curried potatoes and the protein of your choice. We chose conch. We were the only ones there. It was delicious, and better than the chicken fingers served in the unappetizingly named Pusser’s Pub.
That night’s ticketed even back on the ship was Brandi Carlile. Brandi has such a great voice, and she’s so damn cute it’s hard not to love her.At one point she sat down to do a piano song (she normally plays the guitar). She had a little trouble getting settled and she admitted, “these jeans are TIGHT.” And she does not shy away from the covers. She played the Beatles We Met, Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash, and Let It Be, joined by Alex Wong and Vienna Teng. The Twins, Brandi’s bassist and guitarist, did some amazing turns on vocals during that song as well.
One myth people relate about cruises is that everything is included. Not so. You have to pay for cokes. $50 for a week’s worth of unlimited sodas. I know, they're in the business to make money, but soda fountain drinks are practically free. You also have to pay for juice, some gratuities, and to gain entrance to the better restaurants on the ship. That’s what we did on this night. We went to Le Bistro. That’s French for The Bistro. The food was good, definitely better than the ‘free’ fare. Apparently they have been holding out on us. They had some dish called a “French-inspired Cheese Trolley,” which I envisioned as a miniature street car you climb on and they roll you around the restaurant as you sample the cheeses. Every lap or so they ring a bell right by your ear until you’re so embarrassed you ask to disembark.
Besides better food, one of the advertised draws of the pay-extra restaurant is better service. We had a lovely server named Via. She told us she’d been cruising since 2003. Polly said, “So you have your sea legs?”
“Yes,” she responded. “I’ve seen the worst.” She then related the story of how, after just three months at sea on the Norweigian Majestic, the captain missed the warning signs of a typhoon and a bad storm hit the ship. On the 5th floor, the windows of the bar broke out and water was coming in. They had issued an abandon ship warning. She sat in the crew area with her life preserver on. Through the walls in the next room she could hear everyone, adults and children praying and crying. She knew the stors was so bad that just getting into the boats would be a nightmare. Just as they were to begin getting in the boats their prayers were answered. Just as the storm blew up, it blew out. She said it was immediate; startling everyone. Needless to say, she’s a lifelong believer in the guy upstairs now.
A fascinating story, but possibly one I’d rather have heard after we got back to Miami.
I saw a little bit of Ed Robertson’s set. He’s the lead guitarist for Bare Naked Ladies. They do their own cruise with the Sixth Man, the company that put on Cayamo. He said he was telling Andy from Sixthman how much he would have loved to be on that boat with John Hiatt, Shawn Colvin, Patty Griffin, Brandi Carlile, and Kathleen Edwards. So Andy’s response was, “So why don’t you come?”
It worked out well, because Buddy Miller had some serious health trouble and could not attend the cruise. Ed’s set was fun. He is really funny and puts out some hilarious, quirky stuff. He told stories about his son and daughter. He played a couple of hits from Bare Naked Ladies, as well as some stuff from their kids album, and the theme from Big Bang Theory.
We got to sit on the third row for a second ticketed concert of the night, John Hiatt. This show was a return to John’s true form. He only had three repeated songs from the concert we saw the other night. Highlights of the show were The Tiki Bar is Open and Lift up Every Stone.
I went to see Oakhurst at 12:30 AM, but was worn out from the past two nights and only stayed for a few songs. They sure were rocking it, though. The waves had gotten a lot higher and the wind had picked up a lot. Polly opened the door to our room to place the room service door hanger on it and the wind blew cans and papers off of the table. It was crazy. The stats channel described the sea as “Rough” which means 15-20 feet. Holy moly.
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