. . . Especially If You

Like To Laze

By Sue Wendt

“Paradise islands strung like jewels across the blue velvet backdrop of the Pacific . . . beauty French-style in Noumea . . .

Fiji’s duty-free shopping and friendly people . . . Polynesian gaiety in Tonga and Samoa . . . romance in the New Hebrides.”

These are some of the catch-cries of the shipping companies as they lure tens of thousands of Australians, New Zealanders and Americans on South Pacific liner cruises each year.

They extol the virtues of shipboard life—its utter relaxation, the fine food and entertainment, the new friends to be made. They conjure up exotic visions of tropic ports, smooth seas and sunshine, treasure troves of duty-free goods, new sights and sounds, balmy nights and moonlight glinting on a silvered wake. . . .

But, having forked out several

hundred dollars to Mr, Chandris, Mr. Sitmar, the P&O people or any one of the other cruise specialists what can one really expect for the money?

Women, of course, shouldn’t pin too much hope on shipboard romance. With a ratio of perhaps three or four females to every male, odds are agin it.

Also, the seas aren’t always smooth or the sun always shining, Fellow passengers can become a terrible bore (though from among 800 or so passengers, one generally

There are Don Juans

finds a handful who are reasonably compatible), and for an active mind, there’s nothing stimulating about sitting in a deckchair for hours on end.

But for those who seek it, there is nothing like a cruise for inducing lethargy of mind and a happy dis interest, temporarily, in the affairs of the real world.

One feels that if a bomb was dropped on the US, for instance, it would warrant one paragraph in the ship’s daily news-sheet. Weather and cricket would command more space.

Happiest cruisers are those who enjoy watching the antics of others.

There are the professional Don Juans and their amateur imitators, gay divorcees and eager widowers, first time-away-from-home teenagers tak ing advantage of it, social climbers (dinner at the captain’s table being the highspot of their trip), blase travellers (“This is my ninth trip to Fiji”) and the round-the-clock revellers.

Toasting bodies

There are dedicated imbibers who. having walked onto the ship and straight into the bar, rarely leave it until reaching home port again. And there are bikinis and toasting bodies, prostrate on the deck.

It’s full-time entertainment—for the people-watchers.

But what of the ports of call?

I’d say stopovers are far too brief for passengers to catch the atmosphere of the “real Islands”. In New Caledonia, particularly, first impressions disappoint and the less adventurous never return.

Anchored some distance from tiny wharves, Noumea—“ Paris in the Pacific”—is dismal and depressing.

Nickel haze hovers over reddish hill sides and buildings look hot and shabby.

Passengers go ashore by ship’s tender or local tourist bureau’s motorised catamaran and then queue on an unsheltered wharf to exchange money at the tiny mobile “bank”.

Officially, nothing but Pacific francs is acceptable—so if you want to shop you queue. To make things more difficult, you have to exchange francs back again before reboarding the ship, because ships’ banks won’t handle them.

Caledonians aren’t enthusiastic about outsiders and treat tourists with noticeable indifference. Nothing persuades them to keep shops open

during the three-hour siesta and if a liner happens to be in port —too bad!

Most visitors go to the Anse Vata, for a swim at Noumea’s plushy hotel Chateau Royal, with its Louis XV decor. Buffet lunch at the Beach Cafe is $3 and a cool drink about SI.

Noumea is an if-you-know-some one-you-can-have-a-great-time place.

Unfortunately most visitors don’t know anybody—and a great many go away wondering why the ship bothered to call at Noumea at all.

Overnight stays are better—the night time entertainment swings but Noumea still has a long way to go.

American Samoa’s beautifully situa ted Pago Pago and the flat clean port of Nukualofa in Tonga have problems, too. But they seem to want the tourist, even if facilities fall short.

Pago Pago prices are high and a dip in the only available swimming pool, at the attractive Hotel Inter continental, costs SUSI.SO. Great for the hotel, but pricey for the tourist.

The picturesque open-sided Samoan dwellings are attractions for sightseers in Pago—and so is its dramatic cable car, strung high across the harbour.

Nukualofa has flying fox colonies nearby and blow holes (great, if they co-operate). There are good, cheap, baskets, but, like Pago, it lacks cheap restaurants and attractive shops. I couldn’t find anywhere to have a cup of tea or coffee in either place, which doesn’t mean there wasn’t one avail able somewhere. But these cups

should be easier to find. A small point, perhaps, but one the short term visitor notices.

Fiji has many duty-free shops at Lautoka, Suva and newly-developing Savusavu. At Suva, the splendid wharf-side welcome of the police band provides a best-possible first impression.

Most tourists in Suva are dis appointed by the absence of an on the-spot tropical beach—even though there are central, though hardly glamorous, sea baths, and swimming pools in several hotels.

Primitive charm

The enjoyment of bargain-hunting generally overshadows such short comings—and here, Fiji beats other islands.

Vila, New Hebrides, lacks most expected visitor facilities, but it’s a unique hotspotch of British, French, Melanesian and Vietnamese, with a primitive charm of its own.

What the cruise visitor thinks of these ports depends mostly on his spirit of adventure and ability to cheerfully take things as they come.

Some ports aren’t as polished as they might be but this can be the reason for their fascination. Rough diamonds have “intrigue potential”.

Islands cruising is the lazy holiday maker’s dream. It’s for those after relaxation and small doses of sight seeing. Fortunatelv for the shippers, thousands go cruising, and generally speaking, they receive value.

NEW ONE FOR HONIARA. —The Chan Wing Motel, opened recently by the Western Pacific High Commissioner, Sir Michael Gass, adds to the growing accommodation in Honiara, British Solomons. It cost $A50,000, and has 13 double rooms with air conditioning, refrigerator, self contained bathroom and fittings for electric stoves. There is a restaurant and a pool is being built. Charges are $l2 a day B-and-B single, $2O a day double. -Photo: Ted Marriott.