met with a strong wind that pressed me back against the doorway. I only had time to notice the deck furniture lined up like soldiers facing the inky sea wall when a fierce wave smashed the deck, soaking me in salt water. I slipped and slid toward the railing and held on as best I could, but everything was wet and difficult to grip.
Thunderclouds were encircling overhead, but I could only sense them in the darkness. The deck was now awash with the power of the ocean: the waves kept coming at the ship from all directions. This was no fun ride at the fair.
I turned a corner with the help of a swift current of air and saw Lynda sitting on one of the teak lounge chairs. The wind captured my voice as I called out to her. I managed to grab hold of a metal structure jutting out from the side of the ship and tried again. I shouted as hard as I could, ‘LYNDA’. This time she heard me and turned and waved to me. I motioned to her to come in, but my arm failed to move properly and looked more like I was raising my hand in class to ask a question. She waved again and looked back at the sea. I gingerly let go of the metal post, but seized it as hard as I could when a huge wave rose like a mountain over us and lunged for Lynda. I screamed as a mass of water sucked her to the railing. She and her chair slid to the brink of being overboard as the mountain and all its water receded back to sea. I stared in wonder as she hauled herself up, soaked from head to toe, and slid to my side. We grasped each other’s hands and maneuvered our way around the deck chair ‘soldiers’, some of which had been knocked overboard while others lay lopsided and helpless in a crumpled mess.
We returned safely to our cabin and dried off. Lynda’s stomach would have preferred to be on deck, but I made her stay in her bunk until morning. The next day, she ventured to the dining room to find all of the tables and chairs roped together. Only a few passengers were up and around. I was only able to consume some tea and crackers in the cabin.
When we had sailed away from the harbour to ‘avoid’ the storm, we left behind many bewildered, fellow passengers who had disembarked to enjoy a dinner tour and who had returned to find the ship gone. The shock was temporary: hotel staff provided them with accommodations in the hotel lobby and supplied toothbrushes, soap, and towels. Fortunately, damage in the harbour was minimal and no one was hurt. What an adventure! The purser was correct in this regard: the enormous ship endured the effects of the typhoon and sailed calmly to Hong Kong the next day.
Later in the voyage, we stopped in Singapore and then Bombay (now Mumbai). We were eating breakfast when a Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, who lived in Bombay, came to call for us. I happened to be bringing some parcels from Mr. Hunter’s sister, Marie, in Vancouver and arranged to meet them. A crew member said “the hunters” were looking for us. We experienced a little cultural miscommunication, and I took it to be that hunters were looking for us, perhaps to shoot us! My imagination scurried past my common sense. A few laughs arose from the misunderstanding. The Hunters treated us to a sumptuous luncheon at their house, and we laughed over the scare since I knew they were quite innocent!
I believe that travellers, especially novice, naïve, and inexperienced ones must always be vigilant. Lynda and I, at that time, tried to be aware and to make each encounter tolerable and safe. I have tried to retain that advice in my head and heart and, to date, I have enjoyed many pleasant journeys by air and sea.
After departing from Bombay and a stop in Aden, our ship sailed up the Red Sea to Port Said, Egypt. Lynda and I disembarked to join a Cairo bus tour visiting the Pyramids and Sphinx. From the bus window, we were amused to see how our enormous ship seemed to glide through the sand as it was sailing up the Red Sea and then through the Suez Canal to Alexandria. The Iberia would be
Thunderclouds were encircling overhead, but I could only sense them in the darkness. The deck was now awash with the power of the ocean: the waves kept coming at the ship from all directions. This was no fun ride at the fair.
I turned a corner with the help of a swift current of air and saw Lynda sitting on one of the teak lounge chairs. The wind captured my voice as I called out to her. I managed to grab hold of a metal structure jutting out from the side of the ship and tried again. I shouted as hard as I could, ‘LYNDA’. This time she heard me and turned and waved to me. I motioned to her to come in, but my arm failed to move properly and looked more like I was raising my hand in class to ask a question. She waved again and looked back at the sea. I gingerly let go of the metal post, but seized it as hard as I could when a huge wave rose like a mountain over us and lunged for Lynda. I screamed as a mass of water sucked her to the railing. She and her chair slid to the brink of being overboard as the mountain and all its water receded back to sea. I stared in wonder as she hauled herself up, soaked from head to toe, and slid to my side. We grasped each other’s hands and maneuvered our way around the deck chair ‘soldiers’, some of which had been knocked overboard while others lay lopsided and helpless in a crumpled mess.
We returned safely to our cabin and dried off. Lynda’s stomach would have preferred to be on deck, but I made her stay in her bunk until morning. The next day, she ventured to the dining room to find all of the tables and chairs roped together. Only a few passengers were up and around. I was only able to consume some tea and crackers in the cabin.
When we had sailed away from the harbour to ‘avoid’ the storm, we left behind many bewildered, fellow passengers who had disembarked to enjoy a dinner tour and who had returned to find the ship gone. The shock was temporary: hotel staff provided them with accommodations in the hotel lobby and supplied toothbrushes, soap, and towels. Fortunately, damage in the harbour was minimal and no one was hurt. What an adventure! The purser was correct in this regard: the enormous ship endured the effects of the typhoon and sailed calmly to Hong Kong the next day.
Later in the voyage, we stopped in Singapore and then Bombay (now Mumbai). We were eating breakfast when a Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, who lived in Bombay, came to call for us. I happened to be bringing some parcels from Mr. Hunter’s sister, Marie, in Vancouver and arranged to meet them. A crew member said “the hunters” were looking for us. We experienced a little cultural miscommunication, and I took it to be that hunters were looking for us, perhaps to shoot us! My imagination scurried past my common sense. A few laughs arose from the misunderstanding. The Hunters treated us to a sumptuous luncheon at their house, and we laughed over the scare since I knew they were quite innocent!
I believe that travellers, especially novice, naïve, and inexperienced ones must always be vigilant. Lynda and I, at that time, tried to be aware and to make each encounter tolerable and safe. I have tried to retain that advice in my head and heart and, to date, I have enjoyed many pleasant journeys by air and sea.
After departing from Bombay and a stop in Aden, our ship sailed up the Red Sea to Port Said, Egypt. Lynda and I disembarked to join a Cairo bus tour visiting the Pyramids and Sphinx. From the bus window, we were amused to see how our enormous ship seemed to glide through the sand as it was sailing up the Red Sea and then through the Suez Canal to Alexandria. The Iberia would be
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