Voyage of the Dawn Princess

A South Pacific Adventure

Two days ago, Sarah and I returned from two weeks at sea on the Dawn Princess. Thirteen of us - inlaws and outlaws - departed from Circular Quay on a cruise to celebrate Mum's 80th birthday. It was an experience we never expected to have and one that far exceeded our expectations.

Sydney Harbour is one of the most beautiful harbours in the world and as we set sail we were treated to spectacular views of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge. 

I spent many weekends as a teenager racing Mirror Dinghies and later ocean racing on the eastern seaboard of Australia, and it was wonderful to be at sea again. Sarah soon found her sea legs and we were struck by the vast immensity of the ocean and the different perspective it offered on what it means to inhabit planet earth - so much water!!

Here's one of the sunsets we were treated to as we sailed from the little island of Lifou, New Caledonia. 

People wondered if we would get bored being at sea day after day but we were struck by the many changing faces of the sea and sky. 

We visited three countries - Vanuatu, Fiji and New Caledonia. There was a common Pacific 'feel', but each had distinctive character - and in both Vanuatu and Fiji there was evidence of cyclone damage. 

Wrecked boats in the harbour at Port Vila. 

The fish markets in Suva, and towering behind them, the Dawn Princess.

From the village of Savusavu, on Fiji's second largest island.

 Colourful sarongs in a little village on Dravuni Island, Fiji - population 200. 

Truly an island paradise!!

We swam and snorkelled amidst the coral and gently waving sea grasses, and an array of beautiful, bright coloured fish. Afterwards, we walked to the peak of the island (200 metres or so) and surveyed the surrounding islands.

The Coconut Camino!!

We approached our final destination, Noumea, early in the morning.

As the ship drew up to the quay of this 'French' Pacific nation, we were greeted by a group of indigenous men and women drumming, dancing and singing on the water's edge. 

There was a fierceness about this ritual, a bit like the Maori 'haka', but it ended with a cry of welcome. 

Watching from our balcony high on the tenth deck, we were deeply moved. These warriors, like their forebears, were fierce and gallant, and yet dwarfed by the massive ship they seemed so vulnerable - their wooden spears and drums no match for the technological power of what was bearing down on them. 

The pathos of it was almost unbearable. It made so vividly present what European invasion has meant for these people and so many indigenous communities around the world. And here we were - appreciative spectators and yet also  implicated in the systemic injustices and shadow.

So, reflecting on our cruise, we're left with a sense of deep gratitude for the experience and for Mum's generosity in making it possible. Wonder at the sea, delight at the connections with locals and the islands, and a deeply relaxing holiday. And also some lingering unease connected with the sheer scale of it all - questions about the environmental impact of so many huge ships plying the seven seas mostly for entertainment, and about how the economics of it work for cruise staff, and ultimately for local communities. We're very grateful for the privilege of the opportunity to travel, and at the same time find ourselves pondering what it means to receive this gift...