Life's a Stitch

Our next port was Napier, the Art Deco city. The city's architecture was "revitalized" after the great earthquake of 1931. What survived the quake, burned to the ground. The municipal  powers-that-be took advantage of the opportunity to start from scratch.  They researched current architectural style and liked the Deco design that allowed them to incorporate motifs, including Maori art, into the building facades and provided more earthquake-proof construction.

The city has a Great Gatsby vibe with a few modern touches.

I have to tell you a story. As a tourist I have racked up many miles on the ocean. If you follow this blog you know my favourite part is 1500 miles at sea,  in the middle of an ocean, no land in sight, a total release of control of one's  environment. Prior to leaving port there is a mandatory muster drill where you line up near your assigned lifeboat and receive emergency instructions. It starts with "you will hear seven blasts of the emergency signal…"

I'd never had the opportunity to hear this emergency signal in reality until this trip one night early on in the cruise, at 1:37 a.m., when we awoken by those seven blasts. We heard the announcement that the ship's first responders were attending to an emergency situation onboard, and that staff were to report to their emergency stations, passengers to stand by. That'll wake you up pretty quickly. I asked C where the life jackets were located, apparently not having paid enough attention at muster. I've been on ships where there where medical emergency evacuations via small boat or helicopter, and figured that's what was going on. They must have blown the emergency signal so we wouldn't be distressed at the sound of a helicopter in the middle of the night. Wrong.

Ten minutes later the next announcement: there was smoke detected in the ship's generator, that all appears under control, but please wait for further news. I reminded C that it sounded like what those on the Titanic were told. How do you go to back to sleep with that reassuring message? It's OK, keep dancing, pay no attention to those loud sounds. 

Five more minutes: all is well, staff may return to their cabins. Phew. Everything seems magnified through the haze of sleep. I appreciate the warning though, fire being the worst hazard at sea, and I'm glad to report that it won't deter us from future voyages.

I'm happy to say that we lived to tell the tale and today is our 35th wedding anniversary. We were celebrated in advance onboard by the staff singing their traditional Indonesian congratulatory song.