This charming little bookshop in Hilo opened in 2010 after the closure of the local Borders store (its owner even bought some of the old Borders furniture and book shelves). The bookshop has since been more than filling its shoes with its cozy vibe, small cafe/meeting space and interesting selection of titles.  There is an emphasis on the local with a ‘Keiki’s corner’ full of books in native Hawaiian or about Hawaiian folk stories and legends. It also has a moderate range of new books and series’ too, so with its relaxed atmosphere, comfy sofas and steaming cups of tea, it was the perfect place to while away a rainy afternoon.

We already knew, from the difficulty we had experienced in tracking down any freight companies who were willing to carry passengers between Australia and South East Asia, that the number of passengers who manage to obtain this passage is currently quite limited (it was certainly living up to its reputation as the holy grail of sea travel)! This is partly due to a previous governments’ extreme approaches to illegal immigrants and subsequent high-court quashing) – which makes carrying passengers more hassle than its worth for container companies. At the time of writing, the AS Carelia (a medium sized container vessel) is the only ship taking passengers between Australia and South East Asia! If you’re more flexible or travelling Eastwards then getting to South Korea or across the Pacific is much easier for some reason.

After we finished with customs we jumped in the security officer’s ute and were taken down to meet the ship. A couple of crew in bright orange overalls were there to meet us (roped in by the 3rd officer to help bring up our bags) and after eyeing the very steep steel gangway to the ship, we were grateful for the help! We were then taken inside the tall tower of the ship, which houses the cabins, dining rooms, offices and the bridge) and were shown up four flights of steel stairways in the ship’s superstructure to our ‘living quarters’, which were much bigger (being split into a day room and a bed room/bathroom) and more comfortable than what we had become used to on our previous trans-Atlantic and trans-Pacific journeys. There was a writing desk, a sofa, a comfy double bed and wardrobe, but the cabin was pretty bare apart from that, which presented us with a blank slate for personal touches, postcards and pictures sellotaped to the walls.

We were then taken down to meet the captain, Mr. Alexey Popov, who greeted us warmly but eyed us a little suspiciously. He explained that this is not a passenger ship and that things had to be done a little differently around here, for example we would have to ring the bridge for permission before venturing outside on the lower decks; meals would be served promptly at specific times of the day (we were to eat with the officers) and there was no alcohol available as this was a dry ship. He also asked us if we were married – after a bit a quick eye contact, we hesitatingly said that we were, to which he replied ‘Good! I thought so but was a bit confused by different name in passports…no matter’. We were then shown back up to our cabin to await a visit from the the health and safety officer who would explain the safety procedures to us. While we waited, we watched the large cargo cranes loading and unloading containers in a cacophonous sort of Tetris dance from our cabin windows. The ship finally pulled out of Brisbane Container Terminal in the late afternoon, slowly inching its way towards the open sea and New Zealand. As we veered away from the Queensland coast we caught a brief glimpse of some dolphins jumping alongside the boat. By sunset, the coastline had become a distant strip on the horizon, the last land we were to see before arriving in Auckland.

In the morning, after managing a few hours of restless sleep, we awoke to find everything eerily quiet and still. We reached for the curtains first, not quite sure what we were going to discover, to find this:

Overnight, the ship had voyaged through the rough waters to the sanctuary of Circular Quay in Sydney, where it finally became what it always promised to be, a ‘floating hotel’, with an unbeatable view. As far as first glimpses of Australia go, this one was pretty unique and certainly beat the usual nondescript tarmac welcome you receive at the airport! As we had arrived a day early, the ship was due to be docked here for 24 hours and we were allowed to stay for one last night on the boat, if we wished. Seeing as this time tomorrow we would be headed for the nearest youth hostel, we decided to make the most of the experience. To celebrate the spring sunshine, we began the morning with a game of tennis on the roof of the ship! It was probably the most surreal game I have ever experienced, given that the pint-sized court was floating in the water between the shadow of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the gleaming white sails of the Opera House. As the crowds on the Quay below began to swell, we decided it was time to rejoin the world again (after a quick breakfast looking across to the Opera House). It felt strange being able to walk straight down a flight of carpeted stairs onto Australian soil with no passport checks or scanners but somehow it also felt much more natural. By this time, Circular Quay was buzzing with its usual throng of tourists and techno-didgeridoo players, backed by thumping electronic soundtracks. Usually this is just the sort of thing I run away from at high speed, but having been in a surreal sort of ‘floating bubble’ for most of the last month, we both felt exhilarated just to be near cafés, bars, theatres and people we did not recognise once again. We bought some coffee and tea with actual milk (our first non-UHT in weeks) and walked a short distance to the botanic gardens where we sat on a hill, slowly adapting to the idea that this was the start of the next chapter of the journey, one where we would both have to find some work…

It didn’t help that we also kept hearing the call ‘Bright Star, Bright Star’ followed by a location on the ship, which we later found out is code for someone being taken seriously, if not mortally, ill. I wonder if the code has any connection with Keats’ poem of the same name, which ends with the line:

‘And so live ever–or else swoon to death’

The newsletters of the cabin opposite ours began to pile up in the last two weeks and we wondered if it might have had something to do with one of these loaded calls.

In an attempt to stop the maudlin thoughts we were starting to have, we tried to re- focus our attention on instead searching for signs of life outside the boat, but sightings were few and far between. The sea itself, markedly different to the Atlantic, was a brilliant blue (most of the time) – the sort that invites you to dive into it. About two weeks in, near the stern (or the ‘pointy end’ as some called it) of the ship, we began to spot flying fish, who would skitter away across the waves to escape our approaching swell. It became our mission to try and photograph these fast-moving fliers, which was far more difficult than it sounds. After about two weeks of poor results, we managed to get a couple of decent-ish shots, which helped keep our minds occupied in between watching films, reading, playing tennis and eating.

During the 23-day journey, we made three notable sea crossings – from the North to the South of the equator; across the international date line (where we lost an entire day) and through a number of time zones. We changed time zones no less than six times (which included one for daylight savings in Samoa), turning the clock back a civilized hour each time, which adds up to a lot of lie-ins! We crossed the equator on Tuesday September 20^th, and it was quite hilarious to watch people standing on deck with their legs akimbo, wondering whether they might have one leg in the South and the other in the North. The same thing happened with our crossing of the International Date Line, where we crossed straight from Saturday September 24^th to Monday September 26^th, thus never experiencing a 25^th day – though some people tried their best by changing their positions on the deck to see if they could briefly claim a couple of seconds. The crossing of the equator also brought with it the traditional ‘Equator Crossing’ sea ceremony, where sailors who have never crossed the equator by sea before are initiated into Neptune’s Kingdom via a bizarre court set-up, presided over by the King of the Sea himself. New sailors are given a truth serum (traditionally made up of ketchup and shaving foam) which is smeared all over them and followed up with an obstacle course in the pool. Though we undoubtedly saw the tame version, sea vessels of all kinds (including freighters, navy ships and smaller boats) take the ceremony quite seriously and tasks can become something akin to sports or frat initiation rites at university. After the events, all successful new recruits are ‘rewarded’ with a certificate granting them entry to Neptune’s realm (but more importantly, meaning they never have to go through the somewhat humiliating initiation again)!

ÎLE DES PINS

Prior to our scheduled arrival at the capital of New Caledonia, Nouméa, we had a couple of days of rough seas and as we approached the island there was an announcement over the tannoy that our course was to be changed – we were to visit the smaller and less ‘developed’ Île des Pins a day early (small changes like this tend to happen often with sea travel). This tiny island is just fifty miles southeast of its much larger neighbour but it remains in the most part unspoiled, with untouched sandy beaches lapped by turquoise waters. The island gets its name from the blanket of pine trees (with very thin needles to better radiate the heat) that reminded Captain James Cook, who first came across it in 1774, of his native Scotland.

The population of the island is comparable to that of a small village, but is relatively spread out around its outer edges. In the centre is a moderately sized hill, which also makes for an interesting hike and a great viewpoint if you can stand the heat. Most of the houses are situated near the beaches, where fishing and crafts are the main sources of income (though there is also an abundance of time to relax in a place like this). There is a central mooring point, a couple of local crafts sellers housed in an old colonial fort and a hotel modelled on traditional island house design near the south of the island. Luckily, the island is surrounded by reefs which means that larger vessels have to stay a few kilometres away from the shore.

We walked for a kilometre or so up the long beach until we stumbled across an impressive rocky outcrop, which has special significance for the islanders who consider it ‘holy ground’. It is also home to a number of black-and-white striped sea snakes who nap in its small crevices, only emerging as the sun sets when they slither the short distance down the rough rocks to the sea.

NOUMÉA

This is the largest town on the main island of New Caledonia (Grande Terre) and also the island group’s capital city. In contrast to Île des Pins, Nouméa is a working port and is also home to the main shopping and tourist districts – an odd mish-mash of French designer and high street stores with discount outlets, creperies and basic cafés.

We walked around the town in the baking heat for a time, wandering past some interesting French-styled local stores and Francophile chains near the Place des Cocotiers before finding a local tour guide – an old French yachtsman who had recently suffered a heart attack (and the subsequent heart-bypass surgery) and was living on his boat – now unable to sail it out of the harbour. He had been giving tours on the island for two years and had many stories to tell of his adventures at sea. In recent years he had attempted to sail all the way around the world on his yacht, stopping in South America for a short while and living with a French-speaking chief in Venezuela. This chief apparently has a great liking for the French and will host a party for any that find their way to his village (he proudly displays a picture of himself with Jacques Brel, who must have found himself there either by invitation or some happy accident). Our French adventurer guide then sailed through the Panama canal to the Pacific Ocean, where at some point he was arrested and did jail time for flouting some Mariners’ law, apparently related to an inspector finding food – which may or may not have been an apple – illegally aboard his yacht!

On our journey around the island we drove past many mangrove swamps, palm crops and nickel mines. Apparently, because New Caledonia was actually part of the same continent as Australia and New Zealand 60–85 million years ago, unlike most of the volcanic Pacific Islands, the rocks have a high nickel content (2-3%) giving them a unique green tinge and making the bare rock stand out quite strongly from the bush areas. The mines are all owned by foreign companies and hence most of the benefits (aside from jobs) provided by these natural resources end up in the pockets of wealthy foreigners. The locals, we were told, tend to live a very laid back lifestyle, only working when they need some money to get by, which frees them to spend a good portion of their lives engaged in other activities such as fishing, arts and crafts.

In the morning, we decided to take a trip to the Colo-i-Suva Rainforest Park, a short trip out of town, where we had heard talk of waterfall-fed swimming pools (one of which had been used as a film location for the awful film Anaconda 2: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid). Intrigued, we hopped on a bus and passed colourful houses, washing lines and friendly people waving from the roadside on our way into the hills. The walk to the pool took about half an hour and passed through the wet and humid forest, which was originally a mahogany plantation that was subsequently allowed to regrow with native trees, creating a unique (for the region) contrast between the canopy and the lower layers. The reserve was also full of vetao trees, which the local women use to dye their hair, and pandanus trees, which yield a very strong bark that can be used to make canoes, as well as rope from the leaves. It was also eerily quiet in the forest, except for clusters of noisy insects, and we didn’t see much in the way of wildlife except for the odd frog.

Eventually, we came across one of the river-fed pools where some local teenagers were hanging out, climbing trees and making impressively high jumps into the pool from a rope swing. After a quick change behind a rock, I jumped into the murky, cold pool, feeling a chilled rush which made my skin tingle. The river must have been fed from an underground spring because it reminded me of freshwater swimming in the Malvern Hills or ‘Silent Pool’ in England. The walk back to the roadside was much more bearable after a cold dip, and we had time for some pineapple cake, tea and mango juice in the nearby Rainforest Eco Lodge, which is situated next to a beautiful lake.

Back in town, the contrast to where we had just been could not have been more pronounced. Suva is a corporate town which has embraced built up offices, shopping centres and, strangely, barbed-wire clad mobile phone empires but it is also known for its organised crime targeting tourists. In the main town, many people dressed in suits were entering or exiting large air conditioned buildings while others were hanging out on the streets, traipsing large black sacks of fake pearl and wooden goods around. Fiji itself has undergone three military coups since 1987, and the political situation is tense with a standoff between the indigenous Fijians and the large Indo-Fijian population. In 2009, the country was ejected from the Commonwealth for failing to hold elections, and every time elections are held they appear to be by quota, so that representation is largely along ethnic lines.

Picture from Moving Planet Samoa

In the morning that we arrived in Samoa, we were supposed to be heading to the local fish market, but secretly not relishing the thought of staring at a lot of dead or slowly suffocating creatures, our attention was drawn elsewhere…by a group of men, women and children walking along the street wearing 350.org t-shirts and holding banners displaying the slogan ‘Walk the Talk Samoa’. September 24th 2011 may have been the day that Samoa played Fiji in the Rugby World cup (causing much excited anticipation across the island) but it also turned out to be Moving Planet Day, an event organised by 350.org, the group focused on ‘building a global grassroots movement to solve the climate crisis‘, and in the case of this particular event, targeting the world’s dependence on fossil fuels. The San Francisco Bay Guardian interviewed Ewan Cameron, the Pacific Coordinator for the 350.org events, who was at the event in Samoa. When asked why it was such a big deal for him and other Pacific islanders, he answered:

‘Because the climatic impacts are already being felt, people and communities within the Pacific are being forced to relocate and are being displaced. These problems are not being exaggerated, Coastal areas are eroding, saltwater from king tides is damaging staple foods that people rely on, climate change is a real issue. The science is there, it can be proven, and on top of that major emitters are violating peoples’ rights!’

This tied in with a series of lectures we heard on the boat given by Dr Cluny Mcpherson, of Massey University, Auckland, whose research focuses on social, economic and political development in Oceania. The climate refugee problem is a real one, and even small rises in sea change are likely to submerge entire Pacific islands, especially atolls which are often only a few metres above sea level. Countries such as Australia and New Zealand are currently continuing talks through which it is hoped that some sort of agreement regarding the housing of climate refugees might be reached. Discussions are still in their early stages but it is not difficult to see why events such as Moving Planet Day are so important to the many Pacific islands who marked it. Samoa may have been ‘the last place on Earth’ to commence the event this year, thanks to its place on the cusp of the international date line, but it certainly showed that it doesn’t just ‘talk the talk’!

In 2012, however, Samoa will be leading the event in time as well as enthusiasm, as it was announced earlier this year that it is set to jump from being East of the international dateline to the West on the 29th December 2011. Instead of being 21 hours behind Eastern Australia and 23 hours behind New Zealand (two of its major trading partners and expatriate hubs), it will soon be 3 hours ahead of Sydney and 1 hour ahead of New Zealand, hopefully bringing benefit to the island in a variety of ways.

This is not the only change Samoa has instigated in recent years. We fitted in a quick visit to the Samoan parliament where we found out that in 2009, the entire island changed from driving on the right hand side of the road to the left, apparently due to the increased number of right handed vehicles being imported from Japan (which are cheaper than those on offer from the US). We were told by someone we met in the local market that on the day, reminders were put on the back of buses and a few police officers were dotted around the island to remind people, but the transfer day went off without a hitch. It was clear from the outset that this was one spirited island, and quite different in many ways from its easterly counterpart, American Samoa, not least in its autonomy. While in American Samoa, we noticed that most peopled referred to their neighbour as Western Samoa even though its name had been officially changed to Samoa in July 1997, and referred to as such by the United Nations for many years before that date. It transpired that the ‘US territory’ objected to the fact that Samoa had been officially freed of its colonial given name because it feared that its own identity was threatened by the change. This reaction may well be a case of a rattled cage, which points (uncomfortably for some) to the fact that more and more Pacific islands are making bids to move towards a more autonomous way of living. Examples of this can be seen through the increase in successful island product based businesses (such as black pearl farming) as well as through food and energy security schemes which aim to see islands reducing their reliance on imports and external help by introducing their own ‘future proof’ sustainable island-centric systems.

Samoa is at the forefront of one such scheme which has seen it pledge to become one of the first carbon neutral economies in the world by 2020. Its aim is to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by investing in a wide range of renewable energy sources, which could include a combination of solar and geothermal energy in addition to wind, tidal and hydro power. At the moment it is very much a case of trial and error but Samoa is experimenting and trialling widely, keen to stick to its target. Coconut oil from the plentiful coconut trees on the island is being tested as part of a biofuel mixture for use in vehicles and to generate power, while biomass (from woodchips) and biogas (from pig waste) are also being investigated as alternative fuel sources.

Independence often brings with it an increased sense of individual responsibility and so perhaps it is not surprising that Samoa is so forward-thinking. The independence movement was not easy but in Samoa it hinged upon peaceful, non-violent resistance (the Mau movement), which ultimately led to the island gaining back its independence from New Zealand in 1962. Interestingly, this was not mentioned in Mark Kurlansky’s book Nonviolence: History of a Dangerous Idea, though it rightfully should have been. The Scottish author, Robert Louis Stevenson, who had come to live in Samoa for rest and recovery from a respiratory illness in 1890, played a part in encouraging the beginnings of this movement before he died there in 1894 . He was, and is still, loved by the Samoans who affectionately refer to him as Tusitala, or ‘Teller of Tales’. We couldn’t leave Samoa before visiting his house in Vailima and we thoroughly enjoyed looking around – it has been preserved more or less in the way he left it. The study of Robert Louis Stevenson and his work are important subjects in the Samoan curriculum and there was an enthusiastic and informative guide in every room. The lady covering the top floor told us about his burial on the hill and rather hauntingly sang the traditional Samoan song version of the words which are etched on his grave:

Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.

Outside, a Samoan ‘ava (a drink very similar to the Kava we sampled in Hawai’i) ceremony was being put on for tourists, though at least in this case it is actually still part of traditional Samoan culture. Perhaps due in part to its independence, Samoa has held on to its language and traditions including ‘ava ceremonies, dances, singing and tattooing and the people we met genuinely seemed happy and proud of their island and its traditions.

We left Samoa feeling refreshed by this, and not just from the ‘ava and afternoon swim in the pool at Aggie Grey’s (a rather odd colonial hotel and haunt of old Hollywood movie stars). This is one island we would really love to go back to one day if we ever get the chance.

As we drove through the harbour towards the hills, the number of buildings in a state of disrepair became more and more apparent. We were told that these were the leftovers of a tsunami that hit the harbour at Pago Pago hard and with almost no warning in late September 2009 (triggered by an earthquake just off the coast). Over 100 people died and one of the guides’ friends – who had also come along for the tour – had lost both his parents in it. Reconstruction is still a work in progress for most, which pointed uncomfortably towards one harbor side building which looked to be in the epitome of health – the McDonald’s. In 2004, it reportedly had the highest average sales amongst all McDonald’s in the world and the island’s people can’t seem to get enough of it, even though it is considered an expensive treat. Apparently, if there is an occasion to be celebrated, or a special guest visiting, it is to the McDonald’s they go (which almost makes me wish the Queen would visit Pago Pago). We couldn’t help but think though that the money funnelled into the rebuilding of the big M could have been spent better elsewhere (towards rebuilding people’s houses for example) but there we go…

We drove a little further along the coast before stopping at the lovely Tisa’s Barefoot Bar, run by a couple of our tour guide’s friends who were putting on a BBQ at their café by the beach. The food (mainly taro root, breadfruit, bananas, pork and fish) had been smoked in an umu, where a hole is dug in the sand and the food is smoked in banana leaves over the embers. It was delicious and would beat McDonald’s offerings any day (in my opinion). This made us wonder why, with so much delicious natural produce available, McDonald’s was so popular. We had noticed other signs of Western influence – Persil bottles seemed to find second lives as garden ornaments and Coca Cola banners were attached to the sides of some houses and on many t-shirts. We later found out in a fascinating lecture given by a Samoan resident and University Professor that plastic buckets were also replacing the traditional palm frond weaved variety, because they were considered ‘cooler’. At the BBQ, we also noticed that a number of children had Western style names such as Flora and Valerie but we were later told on the bus that Samoan children are often named after the hurricanes that blew in the year they were born, which I thought a strangely beautiful idea.

After the BBQ, we were driven back to the harbour so that we could go for a quick swim. On approach, we noticed a very pungent smell of fish, which upon closer inspection, we saw was emanating from a large warehouse – the home of the StarKist Tuna Cannery. Tuna canneries used to be big business on American Samoa yet all but one pulled out when its people were finally granted the U.S. minimum wage in 2009. StarKist is the last cannery in operation, apparently employing over 800 staff, but it is unclear how long even that will stay, sadly. The American link with American Samoa is not entirely clear cut; while those born in American Samoa are American nationals, they are not American citizens and are not entitled to vote, but are allowed to fight (in typical colonial fashion) and over 10 American Samoans died in the Iraq war.

The family running the tour dropped us off right near a local beach before zooming off to pick up their children from school. This part of the bay had a view of the Rainmaker Mountain (and not the McDonald’s) and the swim was a refreshing end to our short ‘through the keyhole’ glimpse of this beautiful island. We were looking forward to visiting Samoa the next day, keen to see if there were many differences between American Samoa and its neighbour, which had gained back its independence in 1962.

Kuleana – means both privilege and responsibility

‘No make big body’ – try to not to act like you own the place

Kane - Life giver or life by Nature

Papa - Earth Mother

Aloha – Most commonly used for hello and goodbye but also encapsulates affection, love and mercy

ʻOhana – the family or community you share with (not necessarily defined by blood)

Kamaʻāina - child of the Soil

and a phrase I particularly like: Holo Holo – to go out for the fun of it, where it’s not the destination but the journey which counts.

Those considered to be native Hawaiians (Kama’āina’s) are descendants of the ancient Polynesians who settled the islands before it was ‘discovered’ by Captain Cook in 1778. In Hawaiian society, children were traditionally raised outdoors and had strong ties with nature, respecting it as the sustainer of life. They grew up to be caretakers of the land on which they lived and this land was traditionally divided into sections known Ahupuaʻa. Every person living on each Ahupuaʻa had access to shared tools in order to work their land and were also entitled to share in all its produce. The concept of land ownership did not exist in Hawaiʻi until the flurried arrival of Westerners (in the form of traders, whalers, missionaries and politicians) who put pressure on King Kamehameha III to introduce a land ownership system similar to the ones they were used to in their home countries. The Great Mahele (land division) took place in 1848. Two years later The Kuleana act of 1850 was brought in, which did grant ‘commoners’ the right to apply for ownership of land they cultivated and had Kuleana over, but for many the concept behind the application was a new and foreign notion and the application itself required the ability to read and write. The majority of islanders were illiterate and so were therefore ultimately cheated out of their land.

Estate development remains a large problem for the native population of Hawaiʻi as foreign investors continue to drive up land prices. Western control of Hawaiʻi also had other consequences in the form of the suppression of native culture, language and history. Teaching the Hawaiian language in schools was banned until the 1980′s and the agricultural system was changed beyond all recognition (to date, a large proportion has been set aside for mono-cropping, mainly consisting of pineapple and sugar cane crops, though both are now in decline as a result of factories moving to cheaper production sites in Asia and South America).

However, by the 1970′s – perhaps in response to the growing Americanised view of Hawaiʻi held by tourists and the wider world – what has been termed as the ‘Second Renaissance of Hawaiʻi’ began to take shape. This centred around a resurgence of Hawaiian culture and tradition, through which people began to trace back their roots and rediscover their language, traditional ceremonies, voyaging techniques, storytelling and other indigenous practices. Today, there are groups whose mission it is to promote Hawaii’s Hawaii through offering alternative travel experiences to visitors and tackling the agricultural problems with an organic/sustainable agricultural programme – see the Hawaii Farm Bureau Federation for more details. The island of Moloka’i has also seen success through protest action which was aimed at blocking cruise liners docking at, or near, the island. Back in 2002, a Holland America liner tried to dock and was greeted by over 100 protesters waving banners and wearing t-shirts displaying the slogan – ‘No Cruise Ships on Moloka’i’. The protesters were mainly taking action on environmental grounds but were also keen to show that “if you’re going to do business on Moloka’i, you’re going to have to go through a community process first”, something the cruise line had thus far avoided. Their protest was successful and to this date no liners have docked on the island. The islanders do welcome visitors who journey by ferry from other islands and arrive in smaller numbers, thereby limiting their impact on the natural features of the island and the reefs which surround it.

See our next post for our time in Hilo, Kona and Honolulu…

While walking around the Holland America ship that we were on, we noticed a lot of environmental pledges signed by many of the crew and the Captain as well as talk of ‘stewardship of the environment’. The daily newsletter we received in our cabin also contained info snippets announcing various environmental schemes being put into practice on board. For example, in the first week we were informed that Holland America are:

‘proud to be partnered with Marine Conservation Institute to provide sustainable seafood on all of our ships. Holland America Line [HAL] is committed to healthy oceans, and preserving and protecting ocean resources, for now and for future generations…We have replaced all of our dry cleaning machines that depended on hazardous chemicals, such as perchloroethylene, and replaced them with machines that are able to use fruit extracts as cleaning agents.’

All this points towards the underlying fact that cruise ships have come in for a lot of flack over the last two decades because of the pollution they pour out into the air and oceans through the discharging of various shades of murky waste water as well as the fumes they pump out of their increasingly massive smoke stack exhausts. Friends of the Earth (among other organisations) and even some passengers themselves have repeatedly called on them to clean up their act and it does seem that little by little they are starting to respond. We had heard that there was an Environmental Officer on board and we wanted to find out how much of the environmental concern we’d seen expressed aboard was just PR stuff and how much they were really addressing the serious issues, so we went to reception to see if we could get an interview with him. The lady at the desk said that we could give her a couple of questions which she could email to him and then asked us if we were from Greenpeace, which we found quite amusing.

Later that day we received a phone call saying that the Environmental Officer would like to meet with us and so a time and place was scheduled for later that afternoon. The meeting took place just off the main the lobby and the Officer was a straight talking, honest and interesting man which made for a good conversation. At first he was a little stern, perhaps wary of our motives but he said that our question (to do with how on board waste was disposed of on long voyages such as this) had been a relevant one and he was happy to talk through it with us.

Straight off he told us that the title ‘Environmental Officer’ is misleading because it doesn’t really describe what he does – the carbon footprint of the vessel, for example, is not his concern. Instead he sees himself as more of a Compliance Officer who is there to ensure that the ship’s waste disposal practices etc. are adhering to the legal requirements of each territory the ship sails through. In 2002, Holland America were fined at least USD$2million for illegally dumping waste while in port in Alaska and ever since, the presence of an Environmental Officer such as himself is the norm (although several other ships in the HAL fleet have been fined for waste dumping and air pollution since, mostly offences which took place in Alaska). On board, waste water is filtered through a bioreactor (similar to those found in aquariums) but the disposal itself is controlled by a computer system which tests the purity of the waste before dropping it. Bilge water has to be 15 parts per million of oil or less otherwise the valve won’t physically let it go, and in this instance, it is further filtered until it meets the required level. The Environmental Officer is responsible for monitoring the computer’s output and cross checking the results chart and log.

All territories have their own waste dumping laws and Alaska’s is one of the toughest, determining that no waste lower than category “A” (which contains less bacteria and impurities than the drinking water on board the ships) can be discharged. No bilge (oil related waste), food waste or grey (shower and laundry)/black (sewage) water is allowed to be dumped. Alaska sends ocean officers and rangers aboard all docked boats to double check that all systems and waste disposal logs match up. If not, the cruise company and the boat’s Captain/senior staff can be in serious trouble.

Unfortunately, not all countries have the same strict regulations as Alaska and waste disposal laws can vary from port to port even in the same country. The USA – Alaska in particular – is well known to be the toughest but others, particularly developing countries who need the money from tourism are not so hard line and at best adopt the internationally agreed MARPOL (the International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships) standards as their own. In 2010, the Vancouver Sun hit out with a headline that cruise ships were turning BC waters ‘Into a Sewage Bowl’ by being allowed to dump grey water (from the bathrooms and laundry) and sewage into Canadian waters before entering Alaska because of the laxer laws and regulation in Canada.

Alarmingly, even if a country forbids waste dumping in port, this doesn’t mean that the ship won’t dump it into the ocean at all but that they must go at least 12 nautical miles away from shore before disposing of the waste. Processed food (sieved and turned into a ‘mashed potato substance’ described by the Environmental Officer as ‘food for fish’) is commonly disposed of but ships are also legally allowed to dispose of shredded glass and tin if dumped 12 nautical miles from land. The EO said that this is sometimes processed in with the food waste by ‘some companies’, which can’t be at all good for the marine life! Interestingly, the Barcelona Convention prohibits all ships sailing through the Mediterranean from dumping any waste except for food waste – so no tin and glass.

The particular ship that we were on had “MSD-3″ (Marine Sanitation Device) processors on board. Many cruise vessels still use MSD-2 processors or even earlier models and the expense in replacing these mean that many cruise companies are reluctant to replace them until they have to. We were told that Alaska wants to bring in new laws by 2015 which will tighten waste processing even further but cruise lines are contesting this as many of the fleet won’t be up to standards by that time and would be forced into taking alternative routes, denting profit margins in the process (Alaska being one of the most popular cruise destinations). This might be a problem for the Volendam too as they won’t be able to get the next grade of processors until they get a new ship, so I’m interested to see what happens with this…

The EO couldn’t answer our questions relating to fuel as his area of expertise is waste disposal but apparently it is now illegal for cruise ships to burn the highly polluting bunker fuel many of them favour (due its lower cost)  within 12 nautical miles of the Californian coast and so a new low-sulfur diesel fuel is being used by most (which is something at least).

Ironically, recycling seems to have taken a backwards turn. In the 80′s and 90′s, most waste (which could be) was recycled and the ships were often incentivised to do so but now that they have to pay most places to take their waste, a lot of ships aren’t bothering (hence the crushing of glass). Holland America do run a recycling scheme though where any money gained from recycling is put into a crew fund which in turn encourages the crew to make the effort to separate napkins/wine bottles and corks etc. from kitchen and stateroom waste. There were recycling bins in our room for putting paper and glass which was a promising sign. Canada will apparently still take the recycling as will Australia and New Zealand but the USA will not. Others will take certain waste products such as cooking oil and sludge oil (Hong Kong) or will take some things but not others (no recycling of toner cartridges in the UK).

On board the ship, the ‘Environmental Officer’ has the power to go over the heads of the whole crew and even the Captain if necessary (but has never needed to as the Captain is ultimately responsible for his/her ship and can be jailed if its found in breach of conduct). We found the conversation very interesting all in all. What it highlighted was that although cruise lines are now taking waste disposal seriously (to avoid fines), it is the laws and the law enforcement of individual ports and countries which ultimately make the difference and so it is these that need to be tightened up if cruise companies as a whole are to really clean up their act.