Easter Island is a tender port, that is, we do not dock there, but anchor off shore and use the ship’s tenders to get ashore. Should the time ever come that we abandon ship (not likely), the tenders will be our lifeboats. When used as tenders, most of the boats hold 120 people and as lifeboats, 150. I read new notices on the tenders this time. At the bottom of the instructions about tying up together and rationing water, it says something like this: “Remember no one is a survivor until rescued. Maintain all survival strategies even after rescue craft are in the area.”
This morning, Captain Ravera had to make an important decision. There were large swells that impacted passengers’ ability to get on and off the tenders. Happily for the passengers, the Captain decided that the swells were manageable so we were able to go ashore. What that meant for the crew on the tenders was much more work.
To disembark, we go to Deck 3, forward, through the security checkpoint and walk down narrow metal stairs on the outside of the ship to a floating pontoon. The tender is tied up to the pontoon and the engines and rudder of the tender keep it pressed against the pontoon. With large swells, both the ship and the pontoon are rising and falling with the water, swinging today about 4 feet above and four feet below the pontoon. As each passenger is ready to board, crew members hold onto the passenger’s upper arms and time the rising and falling so that the passenger lifts a foot off the pontoon and onto the tender when both are level. Hundreds of times. The crew is really cautious and take on their authoritative “I am in charge here” voices telling us to remain seated and exit only one row at a time. The return was more difficult for us. We watched as one person nearly fell backward onto the tender, but was caught by the crew. Many passengers have mobility issues so the crew really works hard to get us all safely on and off the ship. I have great confidence in their ability, and it is easy to just let them have complete control of moving between the two craft.
Since Jerry and I were on Easter Island last year, we decided to spend our time walking around the town of Hanga Roa, about a mile from the dock used by the tenders. Last year was very dry, a fact I remember because my Cole Hahn walking shoes were permanently stained by all of the red dust of Easter Island. This year, it had rained the day before we arrived and there was red mud everywhere. Most of the roads were paved, so we didn’t spend too much time in the puddles and the mud.
We passed some pretty houses with nice gardens, a tenting campground, the Hotel Hanga Roa reconstruction project, some Moai, a swimming lagoon, and surfers riding waves back to shore. Small children and families were swimming in the lagoon behind a volcanic rock seawall. We turned right to head up the main shopping area, passed the post office and fire station, and purchased a small souvenir Moai. We wandered in and out of several art galleries and shops, none of which were air conditioned, so it was cooler outside in the breeze than inside. At the top of the street, at a pretty little church we turned left and checked out the local grocery store. We are so spoiled with the abundance and quality of food and produce that we take for granted. Our last stop before turning around was the Artisans Center, which was filled with many local arts and crafts.
We headed back over the same route, spending about 3 hours walking by the time we were back at the dock and the tender to return to the ship.
We finally had another formal night and I wore my cobalt blue dress and Jerry wore his tuxedo.
