Easter Sunday, April 20, 2003- Christmas Island- Republic of Kiribati.<br><br> We were up early and breakfasted on our balcony overlooking Kirimatati, formerly known as Christmas Island. The Dawn Princess had anchored at Bridges Point, on the West side of the island, earlier this morning. Her tenders were now motoring about, laying out a safe channel to transport her passengers through the shifting sands and spiny coral reef. Large poles, with flags atop them and attached to floats, delineated safe passage through the marine maze to shore.<br><br> The lagoon is a bright aquamarine, the beaches are so white that the reflected sunlight hurts your eyes. Waving palm trees lined the shores. It looked every bit the tropical atoll that Hollywood had conditioned us to expect. An older and rust spotted freighter, with its gangling derrick arm, even completed the scene. Everything on the island had to be shipped in from great distances, increasing its cost several times.<br><br> The ships tenders had begun transporting passengers at 9 A.M. After two full days at sea, virtually everyone wanted to get off and “stretch his or her legs.” We got a number in line for spots on a tender and idled about the deck for 90 minutes until our turn came. The sea was fairly calm, so offloading passengers went smoothly enough. We took a circuitous and lengthy 40 minute ride through the coral and sand obstacles to arrive at the London docks. Truly, the place had been named London. Even better, across the bay at a now abandoned similar anchorage, the area had been named Paris. It must be sardonic tropical humor.<br><br> Immediately adjacent to the jetty, a small line of delightful elementary children were clad in pink dresses and singing island songs to welcome all of us. Nearby, under a large straw pavilion, sat a booth labeled “post office”, “island tours” and the ubiquitous tee shirts ($20 each here). A larger group of Polynesian men were singing island songs and performing dance routines for our entertainment. It looked like most of the island population has turned out to greet this cruise ship. Not many vessels stopped here apparently and when one did, it became an island happening.<br><br> Mary and I set out for a walk down the crushed coral road. Ramshackle huts, with grass roofs and several ongoing attempts at masonry construction, lined the small roads. A mind-blink would quickly transport you back to the 1940’s here. Most of the small buildings had tin roofs to catch the rainwater. We saw several small children, hiding under trees to escape the heat of the blistering sun. Most of the adults were at the jetty, so the small lanes appeared deserted. Now and then a small open truck would whiz by with several tourists in the open back end. This was the “island tour.” We never did find Captain Cook’s Hotel or any other commercial establishment for that matter. A small Health clinic with “Island of Kirimatati” on it looked ready for business.<br><br> The island palm trees are big and beautiful. The crushed coral roads are bright with the sun and soft with nearby sand. A few odd automotive relics lay rusting in the sun. Just off shore, we were told, lay the rotting remains of several W.W.II vintage Japanese freighters. The odd coastal artillery piece also lay old and unused near the shore. We continued our walk for a bit, waving at any small kids that appeared. They smiled and waved back.<br><br> Soon enough, we retraced our steps to the jetty, realizing that the line for a return tender might soon become humongous. At the jetty area, we listened to the island music and watched the brilliant and beautiful surroundings on the small islet. It looked like you would have to be both adaptive and very inventive to survive here. It only took us about 30 minutes to get aboard a tender and we soon retraced our way, through the Turquoise lagoon, to the welcome splendor of the air-conditioned Dawn Princess. As at every port, the crew supplied antiseptic handi wipes to all returning passengers. It is the age of SARS and the many intestinal viruses and the ships try to be proactive in minimizing bugs brought from shore to the ship.<br><br> We had an exquisite lunch of fresh fish and several fruits in the deck 14 Horizon Court and then retired to our cabin to read and catch a one-hour nap. It felt like E.T. returning through a time warp to the Mother ship and appreciating what the modern technology had made available.<br><br> 6:00 P.M drew us to the deck 14 windjammers bar for a ritual glass of wine, as we watched the Dawn Princess weigh anchor and sail away from the remote atoll so far away from everything. The 6:32 P.M. sunset, out over the Pacific, was a glorious celebration of another day in paradise. We returned to our cabin to shower and prep for dinner, much appreciating the splendor of our surroundings in juxtaposition to those available on Christmas Island.<br><br> The deck 5 lounge had a talented piano player and vocalist every night. We stopped for coffee before dinner and enjoyed the music and each other’s company. The Florentine room was again no disappointment. We enjoyed Lobster appetizers, pea and onion crème soup, filet of Halibut in peppercorn sauce and Macadamia nut ice cream, all accompanied by a Mondavi Merlot and good coffee. It doesn’t get any better than this.<br><br> A musical review in the deck 7 Vista Lounge was both colorful and entertaining. These kids might not be on Broadway, but they gave 150% in energy and we enjoyed their performances. After the show, Mary and I wandered topside to look at the full array of celestial beacons that adorned the heavens. It was a nightly show that you can’t see on land. I wondered at the ancient mariners who had sailed these lonely seas for thousands of years using these same beacons as their maps. They must have gazed in wonder, even as we now did, at the full array of twinkling beauty that we now admired. The day was waning and we were tiring. We retired to our cabin to read and surrender to Morpheus. It had been another interesting idyll in the far Pacific. We were happy that we were here together.<br><br> The Dawn Princess steamed on as we slept and crossed the equator sometime after Midnight, a first for us sailing across the equator.<br><br> <br>