The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Off to the coast

Jeremy loves a road trip in the MoHo and settles in immediately to his spot on the dash

I barely had time to get my land legs back before Mo looked at me and said, “How about a trip to the coast?” Of course, Mo has been home patiently feeding the fire while I was off gallivanting around the Caribbean and she was ready to get out of the house and do something different. A trip to the California coast actually sounded wonderful, with warm temperatures and plenty of water for kayaking. We decided to go to the area we visited last fall, a bit unusual for us to return to a previously visited site when so many await, but it’s actually the closest place to Redding that looked good to us.

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The Shasta Trinity Mountains in northern California are wild and rugged.

While I finished out my work week, Mo researched our route and checked out the available campgrounds. This trip we hoped to be a bit more thrifty and make use of some of the great local county campgrounds. The Humboldt County Fairgrounds at Ferndale looked like a great choice so that is our major destination. Our planned route this time takes us across the Shasta Trinity mountains via Highway 299, turning south at Highway 3 near Hayfork, and connecting up to Highway 36 heading west toward Grizzly Creek State Park along the way to Ferndale. It’s about 160 miles from home to Redding where we pick up the MoHo, and then another 180 miles or so to the coast.

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The view from the summit of South Mountain along Highway 36 is gorgeous.

This morning we woke up at 5:30 with great plans to be on the road by 7. We already loaded up the kayaks and the baby car with MoHo supplies and were ready to go right on time. With the MoHo in storage in Redding, we have to bring everything home with us, wash and repack it all up, and then tuck everything into the baby car for the 3 hour trip back. It’s a bit of a squeeze, with clothes, bedding, all the throw rugs that I brought home to wash, the comforter cover, the kayak paddles, walking sticks, the kayak bag of life vests and equipment, extra water for the MoHo till we get to a campground, the charger just in case she doesn’t start, the dog and the cat and the cat cage, and oh yes, me and Mo. We don’t even bother with a cat box, since Jeremy usually settles down pretty well when he knows we are heading for a big trip and waits until we get to the MoHo where his box is waiting. Good kitty.

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It’s really funny to watch the animals the night before a big trip when we are packing up. Abby sticks to Mo’s leg like glue, no matter where she is going. Jeremy walks around and meows loudly, and keeps looking expectantly at all the stacks of stuff. I actually think he knows where we are going. I can only surmise that Jeremy loves going on these trips so much because his humans and his dog are going to be 100 percent completely accessible and no farther than 12 feet away at any given time. In his dotage, he has become a very needy cat and hates to be alone. So, proudly, right at 7 am we jumped into the car, cat and dog and humans, and traveled east toward the rising sun. About 25 minutes into the trip, almost to Klamath Falls, I turned to Mo and said, “You have the MoHo keys, right?”. She looked at me and with a gasp, pulled the car over and whipped it around to head back west to get the forgotten keys. You have to know Mo to know just how rarely this kind of thing happens. I have no idea what made me think of it at that moment, but we were both really glad it wasn’t three hours later in Redding when it came to mind.

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With an extra hour behind us, the rest of the trip to Redding was uneventful, with open roads and good weather all the way. The mountains are especially open and bare for this time of year, and the lack of snow pack is surprising considering the huge snowfall we had in December. Once in Redding, the sun was warm and the thermometer read a balmy 71 degrees. We slid the MoHo out of her berth as she rumbled to life without a whimper and in a short time we were loaded, hooked up, and on the road west.

I drove from Klamath and Mo drew driving duty this time over the mountains. Mo is a great driver, but after many miles of narrow roads with long steep canyons dropping off on the passenger side, and 10 percent grades, I was getting a bit testy. I am a great companion most of the time, but not so much after several hours of being tossed about by rough, winding, bumpy, nasty roads. The scenery was gorgeous, but the road, not so much! Every time we end up on a road like this we are grateful for our short 26 feet.

The original plan included a stop at Hayfork in the County Fairgrounds Campground for the night, but we arrived at Hayfork at 2:30 and our next stop was only 80 miles away, so on we rambled. It was a bit of a rough 80 miles, however, and Highway 36 might not really deserve the handle of highway at all. The day had been sunny and gorgeous, but as we dropped down toward the river, the coastal fog enveloped us. We reached Grizzly Creek State Park around 5 pm, and the deep forest of redwoods was fairly dark and gloomy. The entire campground was empty except for a single tent camper, with no one around. Instead, there were instructions to self register and pay in cash or check. California State Parks are an endangered species, with the budget of the state threatening to shut them down at any moment. The rate is $35 a night with a $2 discount for seniors. For that price you get no hookups, one lone working bathroom, and no camp hosts around. We wouldn’t spend any real time here, although it looks like it might be a pretty park with the river flowing past and the lovely forest. Since we thought we were going to spend two nights on the road, we figured we could mentally divide it by two and figure it wasn’t too bad.

It’s incredibly dark out there, but not terribly cold in spite of the overcast skies. The highway is fairly close, but not terribly busy. It will be a very early night snugged in to read a bit and then get a good nights sleep before our arrival in Ferndale tomorrow.

Home from the Caribbean

I have been home from the 2011 Legendary Blues Cruise on the Holland America Eurodam to the Eastern Caribbean for a few days now. My land legs have finally returned, and the ground is no longer rocking and rolling. My daughter and I wore wrist bands on the ship and never got sea sick, but the swaying earth didn’t subside for several days after we landed. This wasn’t your ordinary cruise, and that photo of my feet propped up on the verandah was carefully posed. The cruise was all about the Blues, with only three days in port and the rest of the time filled with music, parties of all sorts, including Mardis Gras costume night and a wig party. The bands played till the wee hours of the morning, and then got together on deck after the formal performances to jam until daylight. It was an experience, to say the least.

I haven’t yet really settled in, since I went back to work immediately upon my return. I have 294 blog posts in my google reader list, and something tells me I might never actually catch up on all that everyone is doing. Eventually I will post the stories and photos of our days on the water, but that might take a bit of time to sort out. Usually when I am on a trip I have the time to blog, but on this one with my daughter, I barely touched the computer the entire time. I have finally labeled and uploaded my photos, and with the daily activity sheets from the ship I should manage to recreate what happened from the amazing blur of activity. I really do owe some good cruise stories to E squared and Mui who kept me so entertained with their recent cruise blog posts.

Mo and I are planning to leave on Saturday morning and pick up the MoHo for another trip to the California coast with our kayaks, and I am looking forward to some warm temperatures and relaxation! In the mean time, I just thought it would be nice to pop up in the blog world and say, “hey, I’m baaaaaack.”

Day 7 Holland America’s own little island

I think most cruise lines that have Caribbean itineraries must own a piece of the Bahamas, some own whole islands, as this one owned by Holland America, others seem to own Cays on a bigger island somewhere. Either way, it’s usually a day before the final disembarkation that the ship slides into it’s own private dock and with only 2000 people or so to spread around, it can even feel a bit remote if you know how to get away from the crowds.

This morning our private island was Half Moon Cay (key), somewhere in the Bahamas. I finally looked on Google Earth to try to get the lay of the land among the sea, but still don’t have a good handle on all of it. This little island is very small, just a few miles across, and very low to the earth. The vegetation is short and scrubby with the only palm trees some newer planted ones around the newer fake West Indies Village.

I didn’t care about all that, though, because today we had pre-arranged our one ship excursion and were going to kayak on the inland lagoon. It was a good day to choose a bit of entertainment, since there wasn’t much else to do on the island except hang on the beach and listen to the music. Have I mentioned music on this cruise? Several bands were conducting our own private beach party by the water and it drew most of the ship’s crowd to that localized area for most of the day.

Deb was excited about the kayak trip, and we both knew there would be plenty of time for music later. We stayed on the top deck to watch the ship pull part way into the bay and see the tenders coming out from shore. These tenders are stored on the island so are much larger than the tenders carried on the ship, with a 25o person capacity. They would run all day at fifteen minute intervals so cruisers could come and go at will.

Once we landed, in no time we were on shore, signed up for our little kayak trip, and told to wait under the shelter for a half hour or so before we would be driven inland. There are pathways and narrow roads, with small open air vans that transport people to various water excursions, including para-sailing, jet-skiing, sailing, all the typical cruise excursion types of activities. We were glad we hadn’t tried to do any snorkeling with the cool temperatures, and high winds. Even kayaking was a bit of an effort in that stiff breeze, but it was still great entertainment.

I have to admit, I felt like I was slogging along the entire time on that heavy, sit-on-top plastic boat, with paddles that weighed five times as much as my slick new Werner’s. Deb and I asked for single boats and two other couples were part of our group in tandems and we set out on the crystal clear lagoon that was landlocked on the island. There were mangrove alleys to explore, but the tide was too low for entry, so we stayed on the main part of the water. Our guide was young, very talkative, and provided a basic view of the island life but didn’t have much knowledge of the actual ecosystem beyond grade school level, so that was a bit disappointing to me. I was there for the boating, however, and managed to have a great time.

Afterward, Deb and I chose to walk the pathways back to the beach and the big island bbq provided for us, with ribs and chicken and all the fixings. It was a decent meal, and I really enjoyed the watermelon and fresh berries. We then ambled down to the beach to find a couple of chairs and sit in the sun. The far end of the beach was quiet enough, but it was getting colder as a storm approached and the winds made it too uncomfortable to think about snorkeling, so we swam a bit and sat in the sun a bit before walking back to the beach party.

I walked to the far end of the beach, watching the people on the horseback riding excursion following the leader along the beach. They advertised riding in the ocean, but I didn’t see them enter once. They looked hot in long jeans and helmets, even on this cool day. Deb had considered the “ride the horse in the ocean” excursion, but we thought better of it and decided to kayak instead. I’m glad we did.

We needed to get back to the ship before 3:30, and the tender line was quite long when we went there at 2:30. It probably took 45 minutes to actually get back on the ship, but standing in line was entertaining while we listened to great music and had interesting conversations with other line-ees.

Once on the ship, we cleaned up, relaxed a bit, and went to the last dinner of the cruise in the dining room. This time we asked for a table for two only, not wanting to have to carry on conversations this evening with anyone but ourselves. It was good we went early, because the dining room filled almost immediately with very large groups of people pulling tables together and raucously celebrating the final night of the cruise. The dinner was excellent as usual, with the obligatory surf and turf meal that is usually offered at least one night on a cruise like this one. I am not a filet lover, and that was the steak on the menu. I also am of the mind that any good steak requires charcoal, so wasn’t too excited about my choice. When it was served, however, with our bottle of truly great Spanish wine, I was impressed. It was butter tender and flavorful even without the smoky flavor I think I require.

As we approached the end of our meal, I asked our waiter if the crew was going to do the dining room dance, the one where all the folks wave their napkins. I know it’s silly after the first time, but Deb hadn’t experienced the first time, and I remember how tickled I was when this happened to me on my first cruise a long time ago. Our waiter said, “No, we don’t do that on a charter cruise like this one. But if you wait just a few minutes there will be a special surprise.” In a few minutes, a few members of our Indonesian dining room staff took center stage in the brilliantly lit stairwell and proceeded to entertain us with a rousing blues tune that they had practiced for two months in readiness for this cruise. They were received with a standing ovation and lots of rowdy calls while several diners jumped up to dance. The small band played a few more songs and then played some of their own local Indonesian music for us as well. It was really sweet, and a real treat, and they were so proud of themselves. I’m glad the blues cruisers were the kind of people to appreciate their efforts and cheer them on. Old travelers can get a bit jaded and hard to impress sometimes. I was glad to see the happiness on their faces and the delight on the diner’s faces as well, including mine.

The dress code for the evening was pajamas. We decided to NOT wear pajamas to dinner, but afterward went to change. I have to admit, I felt truly silly in my pajamas, cute capris though they were, and while many people were wearing all sorts of get-ups, including shorties and big slippers, many people had avoided the pajama thing entirely. I wished I had been one of those, and before long went back to my cabin to change into something a bit more reasonable. It was just too dang early for pajamas.

Many more photos of this blue day on Half Moon Cay are located here.

Day 6 Sea Days and Mardi Gras Nights

The juxtaposition of wide open ocean and relaxing sea days with wild party nights and non-stop music on this cruise is dramatic. After two port days in a row, I was really looking forward to a bit of deck time with my new Kindle, finally getting around to reading the “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”. This morning after breakfast, Deb went on her way to explore some of the day’s offerings while I found the 11th deck, as you can see, completely empty. I had the deck chairs all to myself, but the problem with this ship is that there is so much protection from the wind, that you don’t even get much of a breeze and the pool is very far away. I drug my chair into the shade and gave up on getting much of a tan this time around. I am red-haired and freckled anyway, so I shouldn’t be doing such things. It was rather amazing to spend a couple of hours on the top deck without the presence of one single other human being on a rather small cruise ship. The faint sounds of music emanating from several sources explained it, however.

Deb managed to get down to the Lido aft deck for the Sisters of the South and the rest of the afternoon just sifted away till we ambled up to the Crow’s Nest to see Ryan Shaw, one of my favorite performers on the ship. Ryan won a couple of R&B Grammies, and his blues slips into that RB thing more often than not. Not being a particularly big RB fan, there was something amazing about this young man’s art. He sang about love and spirituality and humanity in ways that reminded me more of Rastafarian lyrics than anything else, but with a blues twist. I loved hearing him and watching him, and found myself heading toward whatever venue he happened to grace. In fact, when he sang Imagine, I cried big silly tears all alone behind my sunglasses.

The Crow’s Nest was fun, more intimate that some of the other stages, and Deb joined me there at the bar where I had managed to save a couple of seats right at the dance floor. I had one more “cruise drink”, a pina colada again, but still didn’t get any umbrellas. I guess that umbrella in a pineapple boat with all sorts of fruit is saved for old ladies on old lady cruises. Ha!

After the great music we headed down to the 9th deck and the Lido pool to try to actually get in a swim before dinner and the big Mardi Gras celebration to follow. One thing about this cruise that was different was the absence of children. I think there were only 2 kids on the ship, and one of them was Joanne Osborne’s little girl. The other child on the ship was in the pool with his dad, but it was still fairly uncrowded considering it was a reasonably warm sea day. Deb’s braided hair was great for swimming, but I had taken mine out after getting tired of the headache and the stupid gray haired scalp showing through my skinny braids.

By the time we had some supper at the Lido (skipping the dining room tonight) the party antics were swinging into high gear on all decks. I have never seen so many people in so many crazy costumes this side of San Francisco, although I have to admit, I haven’t been to New Orleans during the Mardi Gras either. One previous evening during dinner, we were joined by two Norwegian couples who told us how popular the blues are in Norway, in fact most of Scandinavia has a rather large blues loving population that frequents the big blues festivals held there. It seems that they called the 10th deck “Little Norway” and referred to the 40 plus Norwegians on the cruise as “The Vikings”. They were all great people, who certainly knew how to have a good time. Cruisers will recognize the “formal portrait” lineup in the photo, but the get-ups of the subjects are a bit different than the formal wear usually reserved for ships dinners and portraits. The Vikings were especially good at this part, and I wondered just how much extra they paid for all the luggage flown from Europe.

The night was loud and raucous and great fun, with the Mardi Gras costume parade as a high point that just set everything up for a long night on all the top decks for those who had the stamina to stay up. Again, I reminded Deb that we had a port day tomorrow and an early kayak trip scheduled and needed to be ready to disembark as soon as the ship landed. Do I sound like the Mom here? Or some kind of old fuddy-duddy? Deb was patient with me, and I’m sure she would have done just fine without my mom worry stuff. I think the crew enjoyed this cruise tremendously as well, they all sure looked like they were having fun and loving the crowd and the music. While Deb danced away into the night, I fell into the bed around the toweled animals and slept like a rock.

Day 5 Deb celebrates a turquoise birthday on St John, USVI

For me, this was the day I had been waiting for the entire cruise. When Mo and I cruised in 2009, we ported in St Thomas and didn’t have enough time to take the ferry across a few miles of water to explore this magnificent island paradise. I read about St John, and wanted to see the lovely land covered by forests and trails and surrounded by pristine beaches and pure white sand.

Cruz Bay, located on the west coast of the island, is the largest commercial center and the location of the main port. We heard later in the day that it is rare for a cruise ship of this size to actually port in Cruz Bay, with most cruise lines choosing the more commercial port of Charlotte Amalie on St Thomas. The population of the town is under 3,000 people, and while there are shops and restaurants, the island is much more celebrated for it’s beautiful beaches and national park.

Word of the Blues Cruise landing here had spread throughout the local islands, and many folks from the British Virgin Islands, and the US Virgin Islands were also on shore ready to jam with the musicians on our ship. The St John department of tourism planned a full lineup of the local entertainment, cultural activities, and educational events to complement the arrival of such legendary performers. My daughter knew of musicians in St Croix that made the trip especially to be part of the shoreline activities on this day.

It was Deb’s birthday, but I was the one with a particular agenda for this day. No matter what we did later, I really wanted to spend some quality time on a St John Beach. With Trunk Bay being the most famous and listed somewhere as the second most beautiful beach in the world, I thought it would be a good choice. However, most of the blues performances were across the island at Coral Bay, all the pubs filled with great music all day long. The famous pubs there included Skinny Legs, Island Blues, and Shipwreck Landing, and the pub crawl was the order of the day. We compromised on a plan that included a taxi trip to Trunk Bay, possibly going on to Cinnamon Bay and ending the day at Coral Bay, taking the ship provided shuttle to return in time for the sail away.

The trip to shore was Deb’s first experience on a tender, and we were in line for an early departure from the ship so were on the first tender ashore. In this case, the tender process required a visit to the Main Stage to get a tender ticket, and then on to the tender. Deb went down there first and I was to follow immediately, but then realized that I had forgotten something, and had to run back to the cabin. Another long walk before I discovered I was going toward the wrong end of the ship made for more confusion. By the time I showed up at the Main Stage, they were calling my name and Deb was a bit distraught. It ended well, and we still managed to get on shore in plenty of time to locate an open air taxi to Trunk Bay.

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At Trunk Bay, the magic of the Caribbean washed over us completely. Deb rented chairs and an umbrella, and we walked down to the far quiet end of the beach to settle in for the morning.The air was warm, the skies were clear, and the water was translucent turquoise. The seas were still a bit rough from previous storms, however, so the famous national park snorkeling trail at Trunk Bay was closed. It would have been Deb’s first time with a snorkel, so we though better of trying to teach her the technique in choppy water, and instead filled our hours with swimming and floating and oohing and ahhing over the clarity and color of the water, the brilliance of that magic blue line between sea and sky, and the sound of palm fronds waving in the warm breezes.

If I were to think of a perfect vacation, it would include a week or so in a little house somewhere on this island, with time to explore every single one of it’s beaches and hike as many trails as possible that thread throughout the national park. I loved St John, and so did Deb. The photos of her on this beach are some of my favorites of all time. What better way to spend a birthday than this!

As mid afternoon wore on, we thought it might be time to amble on to Coral Bay, so reluctantly packed up and found another taxi. It seemed more reasonable to go back to Cruz Bay rather than try to get all the way around the island, so we did that with the encouragement of the taxi drivers. Once back at Cruz Bay, the entertainment going on at Frank Powell Park sounded fun, and someone said, “Hey, the music here is better than anything at Coral Bay”. That sounded fine to us, since we were tired and hungry and just wanted something good to eat and drink. Wandering down the walks through town led us to a little open air restaurant along the bay with a view of sailboats and water and our ship around the corner. We waited in the bar area for a seat, and a sweet looking man came up to us asking if we wanted lunch, and when we said yes, he led us to a big table for four right on the waterfront. Laughing, he said, “ I am the owner, I can seat you anywhere I want!”

I had a pina colada to die for, and we ordered some truly fabulous yummies for our late lunch. Dang if I can even remember what I ate, but I remember Deb saying hers was the best she ever had, and I know mine was. Again, I am reminded of just how much I can lose about a trip if I don’t write about it while I am doing it. As Erin reminded me recently, the goal is to have fun, not to write about it, so that is exactly what I did on this trip. So I have no clue what we had for lunch, but I do remember feeling absolutely and wonderfully happy and a bit tipsy as well. Perfect feeling for an afternoon on a tropical island, I think.

We sat there for a long time watching the water, listening to the distant music, before we decided we had no need to go anywhere else except this sweet little town. We ambled around town a bit, and then back in a park somewhere Deb ran into a young man who was incredibly sweet and friendly, offering her a bit of rum and talking about his life on the island. The flirtations were quite adorable, and safe, since her mom was with her and we were heading for the ship! I laughed with them and felt like “mom”. I was sure our sweet little guy had all sorts of ulterior motives, and Deb decided that she wanted to quit her job and move to the USVI where everyone was cute and friendly. Instead, we managed to return to the ship and to our cabin.

Once back on board, we had no need for supper and instead enjoyed the wild music sail away party on the back deck before going back to our cabin and dressing up for the evening. It was Deb’s birthday, after all, so she wore one of her prettiest dresses and we went back upstairs to listen to more music, dance, and have birthday toasts. Deb’s name was listed on the Daily Program with a few other birthdays, and a lovely chocolate cake was delivered to our stateroom. She also got several happy birthday coupons for spa treatments and such, but most of them including spending a fair amount of money, so she didn’t bother.

A perfect ending for her birthday celebration was the ships Dessert Extravaganza on the Lido Deck at 11pm. I have to say, I wasn’t that impressed with the artistry of the offerings at the Extravaganza. I guess I may have been spoiled by the beauty of our formal buffet’s at sea with Celebrity, but Holland America seems to be lacking in the expression of true loveliness and creativity that used to be standard with these kinds of specialties. More sweets, more music, and I went back to the cabin to fall into a deep rocking sleep while Deb danced up on deck until who knows when.

Not a bad birthday for this first born child of mine.

The rest of the photos for our day on St John are located here.