Mary: The Dial Up

November 18th, 2008:

I had been hoping to spend a little time in Guam upon our arrival, but the Dial Up was waiting for us to board before beginning their voyage back to Japan, so all we saw of the tiny island was a small section of the port as we sprinted toward the other end of the docks, our luggage careening wildly behind us as we pulled it along.

The Dial Up was a small fishing and cargo boat, definitely in the "boat" and not "ship" category, with only a three-man crew. We were hastily but very courteously welcomed aboard by Captain Maeda, whom I had spoken with to book our passage- a middle-aged, paunchy man with sunken eyes and a resigned but benign demeanor. The Captain spoke English quite well, and after we'd launched he took great pains to make certain we were comfortable in our cramped, but exquisitely clean quarters.

His First Mate Mochizuki was a young, skinny man not more than twenty years old, a professional, business-like fellow who trailed after the Captain and studied his every move as he went about his work.

Finally there was Riku, a short, ancient, shirtless man with only a single tooth who grinned and bowed to everyone else on board so often and rapidly I thought he would throw his back out before we hit land.

In all, despite the language barrier and our cabin being half the size of the one on the Reliant, we felt far more at ease on the tiny boat. While the crew on the Reliant had been polite, their manner made it clear that they were a cargo ship first and a cruise line a distant second. Meanwhile, in no time at all Josh and Riku had bonded over beer and dominoes, while the Captain made me feel more than welcome at the helm with him discussing world events.

Even when First Mate Mochizuki informed us that there appeared to be some storm activity brewing between us and Japan, we didn't worry about it overmuch, putting ourselves in the affable, capable hands of the crew. Besides, with how Josh and I were feeling in general it was difficult to work up bad feelings about anything at that point.

In all, while the voyage on the Reliant had felt like business (with the exception of the final day, of course), the Dial Up felt more like a vacation, and our first day had been nothing short of a delight.

Josh: Love... Exciting And New, Come Aboard, We're Expecting You... The LOVE BOAT, Soon Will Be Making Another Run (Stuck In Your Head Now, Right?)

It's our final day on board the Reliant. We'll be arriving in Guam within the hour, and, like Mary, I never want to leave this rusty bucket 'o scrap. Maybe we can just rent out this cabin and travel around? Get a couple of frilly curtains for the porthole so Mary feels more at home?

Probably not.

I could wax on about how in utterly in love I am, but the thought of Yoshida reading it and commenting is a daunting prospect.

Mary: Setting Sail

November 12th, 2008:

While it wasn't perhaps the best possible introduction to the ship's crew to have Josh screaming obscenities at his computer screen in our cabin the first night, it was at least nice to see someone besides me yelling after receiving one of Yoshida's posts for a change.

The Reliant has just set sail (not that it has sails. I'm going to have to brush up on my nautical terms, I suppose) and Josh is fully settled in and playing his video games. So far the crew has been businesslike and reasonably polite, clearly used to having the occasional passenger on board. The ship is totally utilitarian and without any charm whatsoever, and my biggest regret before leaving the dock was not buying a vase of flowers and some throw pillows (below: the exact opposite of our cabin).

Also making life interesting is that the ship's captain was under the impression that Josh and I were married, so we only got one cabin with one full size bunk, but we're making do.

Mary: The Reliant

November 11th, 2008:

Mrs. Howland, I've considered shipping either the knife or the charms (or the top hat and cape) separately, but I just don't trust letting them out of my sight. We fought so hard to get them, and coincidences seem to occur so often in the Magician's favor that I've decided, with reservations, to keep them with us.

As to informing on us, please go right ahead. Homeland Security probably already has the information anyway so I don't know that it will do any good, but at least it will give you the appearance of cooperating. Jeff's incarceration is really weighing on Josh and I, so if there's anything else you can think of that we can do to help on that front, please don't hesitate to let us know.

Josh and I have managed to book passage to Guam. As we'd need to use our fake identification to get a hotel room (and our I.D.'s have been flagged by the police), we're just going to board the ship and stay there tonight in dock. It's a large cargo ship called the Reliant (Sample photo below. Not the exact same ship, but close.), a name that caused Josh to jump up and down with glee. "That's the name of Khan's ship in Star Trek II! Awesomeness incarnate!"

"What happened to it in the movie?"

He shrugged. "Oh, it was utterly destroyed, all hands murdered. The original captain had a mind controlling bug in his brain and killed himself, too. Hey, will they have X-Box Live on board, do you think?"

While I put my head in my hands and tried to think happy thoughts, Josh dashed out to an electronics store and bought something called an "Iridium Beam Remote Satellite Modem", which is a fancy name for a gadget that will allow him to play X-Box games with other fourteen year-olds around the world as we travel, just in case there's no Internet connection on board the ship. So that's a relief.

I'll post again when we're out to sea tomorrow.

Oh, and Yoshida, thanks for the tip on our blown cover. And please thank your uncles for their help in getting us through customs into Japan.