Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
eyed and smiling, bearings gifts of wine or paw paws. I imagine her parents had many a
laugh.
The Paradise hotel had a fair sized swimming pool for their guests. It was situated in the
midst of a lush tropical garden with well-manicured, green lawns, surrounded by great, big,
statuesque rocks and pagodas of weathered silver wood with fragrant creepers intertwined;
wooden deck chairs and sun lounges were always within reach. It was a classy, old hotel
and was wonderfully relaxing, a firm favorite amongst all of the cruising sailors. The hotel
was out of season at this time of year, and there were very few guests. We would congreg-
ate at the pool either in the morning when the sun was up and it was hot, or in the latish
afternoon, where we would horse around in the cool blue water with Penny, Craig, Gavin,
and I throwing a ball around to each other or ducking poor Penny. We got to know several
of the other sailors by the pool side, and many a memorable happy hour was spent sipping
cold beers in the early evening, when the night staff emerged with crisp, starched uniforms
and bright white smiles, bearing trays of tinkling drinks.
One morning we were dozing next to the pool when I was jolted out of my daydream by
the curious sound of windows rattling in their stays. Others had just noticed this too, when
all of a sudden the ground beneath us started juddering and swaying. The girls immediately
started screaming, and I was frozen in my deck chair. I looked wildly about and saw the
nightmare sight of the water in the pool slopping heavily over the sides and over the con-
crete surround; even the tall palms were swaying wildly back and forth. “Jesus Christ, it's
a bloody earthquake!” I managed to yell out, as I was virtually thrown from my deck chair.
People had come to their senses and were standing up and starting away from the pool. The
windows had been rattling all the while, but now, after perhaps a minute or two, the eerie
sounds had diminished, and the wildly shaking ground settled and was still. “Oh my God!”
shouted Penny's mother hysterically, “Would you believe it, here in the middle of the Pa-
cific?”
People were jabbering excitedly and were slowly returning. I looked down across to where
Déjà vu and the cruising fleet were anchored; all seemed pretty calm out in the bay. We
would find out later that the quake could easily be felt on the water, and indeed, some
weeks later when we sailed to a nearby island to dive for shells, it was found that this par-
ticular island had tilted quite dramatically and had lost its lovely yellow beach. There was
really no damage to any property, and no one was hurt; apparently the islanders had exper-
ienced similar quakes in the past. I realized that we shouldn't be so shocked with the odd
quake here in the Pacific, as there was still a lot of volcanic action taking place beneath
the ocean. Two active volcanoes came to mind: the Kilauea Mountain on the big island of
Hawaii and the active volcanic island off the east coast of New Zealand. It was therefore
