It was sad to learn that the coffee that comes out of the beer taps in the dining room is not actual brewed coffee but something along the lines of Nescafe, that for use on the ship comes in a plastic bag that resembles a IV bag with connections for water in and another connection for coffee like substance out.
You can purchase espresso beverages, on the Emerald ship. My traveling compadre has insured that I have a bountiful supply of “coffee cards” and for that I am truly grateful. There is however only one young fellow that has repeatly proven himself as a capable barista, and now prides himself on making me my daily long pull. I certainly plan on nominating him to a higher calling in the ships company.
We headed out across the mighty Pacific Ocean for a three-day crossing to the island of Samoa, with a port call in amerikan Samoa or Pago Pago, as it is called by people that love it so much they say the name twice.
I was up on deck early with camera to snap some shots of us coming in. I got one or two shots but the humidity was greater than my lens could stand and it got quite frosted up.
There was a bit of a wait to get off the ship. Construction was on going on a part of the dock to our bow, and the big metal anchors where the mooring lines go had been removed. Who knew that our ship was due in before they were replaced?
Our captain was quite annoyed and made several announcements to keep us informed. Eventually a local ferry was moved and our lines towed across the harbor to tie up where the ferry was.
The locals are quite friendly and as we walked around passing cars would wave, and passer buys would say hello.
The day was hot and humid but we walked aboot three miles over to the tuna dock just to see Charlie Tuna. The heat was a bit much to take and so we hopped on a local bus for the ride back
Our bus was sort of home made with wooden seats, a wooden ceiling and a very adequate stereo system that played the drivers favorite music. Over the music came a whistle and the driver pulled over to the side of the road to let a young man off the bus. Back on the road another fellow whistled, and again the driver pulled over and let the fellow off. I can’t whistle loud like that and so I had visions of riding the bus for a very long time, and maybe never being able to get off, but fortunately the bus came to the end of the line at the trinket market near the ship and we scrambled off without any hearing loss.
For as nice as the locals are, there is no free wi fi, or even free beach access and the town is filthy with trash everywhere, but worst of all the creeks that run to the sea are filled with plastic water bottles, fast food waste, metal cans, and general rubbish. The waste is quite a contrast to the mostly rubbish free public places of New Zealand, and Australia. But then again, this is a territory of a prominent backwards sliding nation.