I finally got up early enough (at 4:30 AM) to photograph the sunrise. I wasn’t disappointed. The show was spectacular and I bobbed up and down from the forward bench where I was sitting to change lenses, trying to capture all that early morning glory. Several other passengers joined me. In addition to the sunrise, there was the diversion of a submarine off the port bow, its conning tower and upper bridge just out of the water, seeming to shepherd us safely into Rio’s harbor. I couldn’t help but think of the first sailors to arrive here and what they must have thought of the landscape after so many days at sea. Softly, the mountains rose up out of the mist surrounding them and seemed to beckon. It was difficult to decide where to be: aft, photographing the sunrise in the east, or forward, photographing the mountains to the west. I took pictures of both, running back and forth as though I were jogging on some straight stretch of track, my camera flopping wildly around my neck. I know I must appear ridiculous. But I don’t care. Capturing the memories in digit-time is important to me.
Nancy saw me at breakfast - the mountains were sliding slowly by outside – and rushed over to join me. She was frantic. Donna was sick again – Nancy says it’s all in her head – and they had scheduled a car for the day. Donna would never be up to leaving the ship. Would I join her for the day? I didn’t really want to be involved in the Nancy/Donna saga but I didn’t have plans. And Nancy was so distraught that I said yes.
It’s apparently common practice for jewelry companies to put representatives of their firms aboard ship for the purpose of softening up prospective buyers. They get to know the guests socially and then arrange for cars to pick them up at the port, showing them the sights and then taking them to their showrooms for the harder pitch to buy gems. Nancy and Donna had accepted such a ride but Nancy didn’t want to do it alone. Gamely, I stuck the big blue sticker on my shirt that identified me as a prospective buyer. Nancy and I were met ashore by Louis Philippe, a Carioca who would be with us for the day. He shepherded us into a comfortable and air conditioned car for the ride to Corcovado, a long schlep through the city to the tram that goes up the mountain. It was very hot and very humid so the comfort of the car was significant.
Corcovado is the highest point around Rio and the site of a huge statue of Christ, his arms outstretched as though to bless all the landscape. (Or, some people think, to take off.) It’s probably the most frequented tourist spot in Rio; the views from the top are nothing short of spectacular. We had to buy tram tickets and wait for the next tram. The ride up and the return down each take about 20 minutes so by the time we reached the top and spent a little time taking photographs, the visit to Corcovado is about all anyone can do in a day (at least anyone as old as Nancy and me). Nancy is 80 and easily distracted. Although I enjoy being with her, it was a lot like being on duty. When we got to the top, her camera shut down before she could take any significant photographs. She couldn’t understand why; she had put a new battery into the camera right before breakfast. When I asked her if that battery had been fully charged, she didn’t know what I was talking about. “Charge?” she asked. “You mean you have to charge the battery?” I offered to take any pictures she might want and then make a CD of the day for her, sending it to her in Florida after I get home. The photo opportunities were incredible. It was a very clear (read hot) day and that old ism about seeing forever seemed to apply. I took many photographs, threading my way around the monument and through the huge crowd it always attracts.
After Corcovado came the big pitch. At the showroom we were shown the various gems indigenous to Brazil, all spectacularly set in 22 carat gold settings. After a brief tour, we were invited to sit down at a desk and introduced to the sales lady. She told Nancy she had beautiful blue eyes and should be wearing a blue stone around her neck. She brought out an incredible sapphire the size of a bird’s egg set in white gold. Nancy said, no, no, no; but she might be interested in emerald earrings. The saleslady adapted to this new direction with suave aplomb and showed Nancy a pair of drop earrings that were indeed beautiful. She kept describing them as of superior quality so I knew they would be expensive. When the sales lady finally got to figuring out the price from some code on the gems – the earrings were $16,000.00 – Nancy got up from the table and we tried to escape. The manager approached and we were literally hemmed in by him and the sales lady while they told Nancy that “maybe we can do something about the price.” “Not enough for me, I’m sure,” Nancy said. I took her hand and we brushed by the manager to beat a hasty retreat. Our guide met us and called the driver of our car for our trip back to the ship. I had a fleeting feeling he was going to abandon us right there on the street. We didn’t have Brazilian money and had no idea how to get back to the ship. But Philippe and the driver came though and we were ushered back into the same car. I asked them to drive us along the beaches – the Avenita Alantica runs right next to the beaches of Ipanema and Copocabana – and it took me back to 1971 when I was last here. Some other guys and I had rented an apartment on Copocabana and spent most of every day on the beach. Now I can’t (and don’t) go to the beach at all. How time does change things. Still, it was nice to see the beach and to reminisce about that more carefree time.
By the time we got to the ship, we were both exhausted. I had a quick hamburger on deck and treated myself to a big gin and tonic and a couple dips of ice cream. While I was having my lunch, one of the guests who often attends dance class came over to say hello. She asked me what I did when I wasn’t playing dance host and in a brief explanation of my past, I learned that she and her husband are close friends of David Green, in London, to whom I sold Larsen. “He’s a great businessman,” she said. Yes, I thought, and not a very nice man. But, of course, I didn’t say that to her.
Over the time of the cruise, I’ve learned that my predecessor, Ray, was asked to leave the ship because the guests were unhappy with him. Apparently, he would leave the group at some tourist stop and disappear to make videos he sold back home, delaying the tour to the consternation of the guests. They complained. And he was gone. While I don’t dance as much as Heinz, who pops up to jiggle away – he really doesn’t keep time to the music – at every opportunity, I give a lot of attention to the Solo ladies. Heinz has softened somewhat and although still a Nazi underneath, is cordial to me on the surface. We each do our own thing and he’s not a bad roommate. He’s very neat and if he airs out his underwear on our balcony, who cares?
At cocktails, there were too many of us for our reservation for eight at Prime 7. Elsa asked me to give up my place to George, whose dinner plans had fallen through. So I was stuck with Nancy and Donna, who bickered all through dinner. I hadn’t signed on to be a referee. The lady who was transfered to Rio by helicopter is in a coma. Stay tuned.
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