Ode to the lost Carribbean

Lush waters tinged with blue and green

Float around sand infested with tourists

One for each grain of sand

Inflating the island with their crumpled dollar bills.

And their half-finished cocktails.

St Thomas Virgin Island

Taxi drivers baking in the sun

Hoarding throngs of people through the 80 sqaure kilometres

Of St Thomas Virgin Island. 

No speed is here. Every heartbeat ticks to the plod of the confused tourists.

Figuring out which beach to paste their half-naked bottoms on.

Tortola British Virgin Island

In this heat-singed mess, one can barely see

Any Caribbean flavour except the crystal blue sea.

The local spirit is as American 

As the Starbucks chain on the corner of the street.

Tourist traps plague the beaches of Tortola

Gone are the Pirates swilling rum, guarding their treasures

The real pirate has no booty but has fifty states 

And the whole island in its back pocket. 

St Thomas Virgin Island at night

12 signs you know you are going to have a bad day

I rocked up to work this morning at a ripe 6:30 in the morning with a red bull rattling in my stomach for breakfast. As the elevator took a slow walk to China up to my workplace I tapped my foot- annoyed. I was reminded of all the things that can ruin your day. Here a are a few:

1. When the elevator stops at every floor on your way to the penthouse.

2. While brushing your teeth you spill a drop of toothpaste- staining a perfect blouse

3. You pull your favourite outfit out the closet only to find it is creased beyond words.

4. Traffic. No other words needed.

5. A row of people taking over the entire pathway while maintaining the slowest pace of all time.

6. Taking a sip of ice-cold coffee you have left out for too long.

7. Burning your breakfast or skipping it altogether.

8. When your boss schedules you a day off but you are in port manning and cannot leave the ship (cruise ship workers will know all about this one).

9. Waking up too late to shower and- as a result- feeling disgusting all day.

10. Wearing granny panties because it is laundry day.

11. A giant zit on your face

12. Negativity from anybody, anywhere, anyplace, anytime.

1 sign you know you are going to have a good day? When your bra and panties match.

Paradise Lost

"We will not be beaten, we will fight," chanted around 100 Bahamians as they crunched over the crumbling gravel in The Bahamas. In a sea of jewellery and souvenir shops they walked steadily, plodding one foot over another. They carried a face of quiet determination and placards. "End Chinese control over local markets," "Advocating for Juvenile Justice system redemption," and, my personal favourite:  "Paradise Lost: Murder, poverty, corruption."

The overarching grievance was the lack of transparency shown by the ruling Progressive Liberal Party(PLP). "We need a government that's accountable. We need a government that's transparent. We need a government that's going look out for the interests of Bahamians first and that's not happening," said an angry protester. It is no doubt that the Bahamas have some interesting issues to mull over while sitting on the sidewalk sipping on a Bahama mamma.

What fascinates me the most, though, is this glimpse of how other countries protest. South Africa, as of late, seems to favour burning cars, intimidation ending in increased police brutality with rubber bullets and tear gas. They are even resorting to rubber bullets with a metal core. The call for free tertiary education in South Africa is an ambitious, yet worthwhile endeavour, yet it has become a fight of control between police and protesters alike. It has become completely different to the march in the Bahamas which, in comparison, seems nothing more than a casual afternoon stroll with some chanting and signs for entertainment.

When my manager explained that there are riots outside the ship the same question was on all South African's lips- are there burning buildings, debris, rubber bullets, tear gas? It is sad that protesting has become associated with nothing more than violence, intimidation and police brutality. Our country has a deep history of protest culture. It is embalmed in our nature from when we are born and I would be a fool to not acknowledge that race is not a part of it. With black South Africa oppressed until 1994, they have much more experience with raising their fists- as it often was the last resort they had to go to to get what they wanted- basic human rights granted to all of white South Africa.

Our history where the only way we got anything was through violence means that today we fight before we march, we raise our fists too soon and the idea that you can call that peaceful march in the Bahamas a riot is laughable to any South African in the room. 

I want to say that we should take a leaf from the Bahamians' book and become more peaceful about our grievances but I cannot ignore that our history is streaked with bloodshed. I can only hope for us to unite sometime, someplace, somewhere. 

Jumping the broom

Amidst crashing waves, sun-soaked sand and azure blue skies of St Thomas Virgin Island I was lucky enough to witness my roommate marry the love of her life.

Despite the beautiful location, it was one of the most modest weddings I have ever attended. Her fiance went to work at 5am to 9. Afterward she finished, they gathered their paperwork and donned simple short, white dresses. My roommate even refused my help with hair and makeup. They headed out to the gangway off the ship to Lime Tree beach- inviting some colleagues who were able to get away from work to join them. Luckily we were mostly photographers so they received a full, free wedding photography service. The "reception" was a cocktail and lunch ordered at a restaurant on

During the same time my school friend got married with full, wedding reception, ballgown and flower-strewn church service attached. She married her boyfriend of three years. My roommate married her girlfriend of three months.

Despite their differences they both believed that it was the right time to get married. When I was younger I used to believe that you had to be with someone for years or live with them before you even though of marriage but now I know that when you are ready you are ready. If its the right person waiting three years before will not make a difference.

This post is a bit personal yet I want to share the most amazing thing I have seen while travelling on a ship. That is something you see every day: love and its ability to conquer all obstacles. I have seen people who live halfway across the world from each other cross that distance after only a few months of even knowing each other. You would think living a lifestyle on a ship would close your heart to love but I have seen it make people more and more open to it. My own ship love affair brimmed with crazy emotions and happiness. We never had the ability to dress up and go out for dinner at night like I did with my boyfriends at home yet I still felt the romance flaring between us. I suppose less romance leads to more sincerity and, in the case of my roommate, the minimalist wedding she had was more than she ever dreamed of.

During that dark time in our past known as the slave trade- "negroe" men and women were never allowed to be married yet love conquered all obstacles and they defied this rule. They swept a broom under their feet-jumping over it together- making them man and wife. Without a marriage license they were just as married in their hearts as any other married couple.

Customs around marriage have changed over years and through continents but love which is passionate enough to face more than a few obstacles is something that will never change- no matter the place or the time. Now that, is the biggest wonder of our world.

Polaroid Pictures

Pictures on a wall

Glaring, staring wide blue eyes

Peek at me when I look at the ceiling

Faces of what once was

And what I wish could still be

Creep across the room at night

A flutter of glossy paper, a thousand misplaced polaroid pictures

Scatter the corners of cupboards and draws.

The faces of a thousand possibilities

Of love that would have been

Friends that could grow old with you

If it weren’t for the tug of fate pulling you away like

Gravity pulling the putty holding the picture to the wall.

Instead they go with me everywhere

In my suitcase, in my draws and sometimes, if it is not too painful

On the wall- a spotlight of a faded memory. 

Christmas always goes according to plan

Faint wafts of Christmas pop tracks, over-worn Santa hats and the musty smell of pine from the Christmas pulled from their storage rooms warn me that Christmas is right around the corner. It is, in actual fact, tomorrow.

Christmas used to be my favourite holiday as a kid. Used to be. It is never good when something used to be. It has to be. It is not now. Now I am at sea, Christmas is one of the days I least look forward to.

It is not like I want to turn Grinch-like and hide in my room or steal Christmas. Its just Christmas is an exhausting day filled with families with at least one drunk person who thinks he is funny. Yes, it is usually a guy and yes I do wish I was just as drunk as him. I am not. Instead I have to try and get him to keep a straight face long enough for the second I need to snap the picture. Sounds easy enough roght? It is anything but. The reward? No Christmas presents, Christmas lunch or any traditions that make it feel like Christmas.

I try to make it happen. This year, I wore a Christmas hat for ten minutes until it got too hot. I watched a Christmas movie. Nightmare before Christmas is not depressing at all, right? We even tried to do Secret Santa so you get at least one Christmas present no matter how sad your life is. After last year where I spent $100 on a nice bag for my giftee and getting a cheap pair of earrings when my ears were not even pierced it just lost the vibe. The best thing about getting a gift is that, no matter how bad it is somebody cared enough to get it for you. Its the thought that counts. When Secret Santa turns gift-giving into a forced decision it somehow loses its meaning.

Don't worry, I am going somewhere with this endless rant of bitching. Although I would do anything to be back home, the Christmas there was not that spectacular anyway. My sister was admitted to hospital with acute pancreatitis. Christmas day was spent at the hospital with me on the other end of the world, worrying. That Christmas definitely did not go according to plan.

Every Christmas is different. No matter how wonderful or crappy it turned out the point of it is putting a Santa hat at least one, singing a cheesy Christmas carol at least once and making some kind of effort to be with your family. Whether that may be a Skype call, a message or, heavens knows, actually showing up for Christmas at least you can walk away saying you have tried. That is the most important thing after all. It is kot being naughty or nice. It is saying I've tried.

Day 1

“I’m not like all those other guys,” he says- winking while barely concealing the snigger peeking out underneath his dimples. He was just like all those other guys. 

Truth be told, I feel a bit like him starting this blog. I say it’s not another travel diary and I am hoping you will fall for it.

You see, after the early explorers and, later globalization made the world a much easier place to access- travelling has become pretty common. I do not open my facebook feed without seeing some new pictures from China, Italy or Vietnam from some lucky bugger on my friends list. And let us not forget all the new engaged couples tying the knot while I keep a brave, nonchalant face when the guy I passionately made out with last night ignores me on the way to work.

My lack of a successful love life aside- it’s not a big deal to take a trip away from home anymore. This leaves a problem for me. I work as a photographer on a cruise ship. This means I get paid while I see the world. When I started over a year ago I was living the life. I was in a new port almost every day. I ventured off the ship whenever possible- even when I was tired, hungover or just didn’t feel like it. I made myself feel like it. As a result I saw incredible things. I sipped rum on a beach in Jamaica, I caught a glimpse of the Northern lights in Alaska, I stood on top of the Empire State Building as the sun set over New York City. This is just a few of the awe inspiring things I have seen and done- all free of charge. Yes, I know I am lucky. Ps. this is me jumping into the ocean in Honduraz. Just one of the very many pictures I use to make people jealous of my life. 

The truth that not everybody knows is that I don’t do this every day. I may be moving at a speed of approximately 22 knots an hour on a permanent basis but I feel like my life is standing still. My day consists of a heavy dose of mind-numbing work with an occasional cocktail or coffee break with complimentary Wi-Fi on an island somewhere in the world. I know that people pay thousands to have a cocktail in the Caribbean but, for me, somewhere in the past one and a half year the extraordinary has become ordinary. The things people do to escape routine has become part of my routine.

Introducing …. (insert trumpets here)… my new way to find the extraordinary in what I do again. I am hoping that by sharing my experiences I can try and find some kind of meaning from them. Maybe. If not I will always be able to shed a light on the boring and the mundane things about my life at sea so that next time you see a cruise ship crew member bragging about their excursion to some tropical island you will laugh at them- knowing full well that ship life- or travelling is not always what you expect it to be.