#then we went to the beach and it was like an active cyclone

[sidetongue]

aint they cute

[holidayvisa]

14 December 2023 - I had breakfast at the hostel. I slept in again and lazied about the hostel. Dave and Christy picked me up from the hostel at noon, and we drove north to a bowling pitch where wallabees are often sighted. We knew our chances weren't good because of the recent cyclone and the current rain, but we decided to give it a try anyway. When we got there, we were surprised to find a whole bunch of wallabees, jumping around the bowling pitch! Even though it was rainy, they were still hanging out. Right before we left, a group of wallabee went full on sprinting across the field, hopping through the deep puddles and splashing water as they did. It looked to me like they were intentionally puddle jumping and splashing, just like little (human) kids in a rainstorm! We drove back to Cairns and grabbed lunch. After lunch, we decided to go on a walk. We walked to the beach and walked along the beach, then we walked 6.2km from our lunch place to the esplanade, north to Cairns Fun Ship Playground, then along Lily Creek Circuit back to the lunch spot. During our walk, Dave saw a platypus in the creek!!! I'm so jealous that I missed it! By the time I looked, it was gone. We saw multiple dozens of bats hanging from the fruit trees along our walk! We even saw some of them flying, and since it was during the day, we could see the silhouettes of their wing bones through their wings! It looked really cool!

After our walk, we went to my hostel and played the boardgame Ticket to Ride. A few other people at my hostel joined in for the second game.

Dave and Christy decided to head out for dinner, and I decided to stick around and play more board games with my friends at the hostel. We played Ticket to Ride some more, and then we played Jenga, and then we played Fishbowl. I found out that people across the world play Fishbowl, but they all call it different names. In France, there's a French name for it, in Germany they call it Activity, in Brazil they have a Brazilian name for it, and in Spain, they call it "Alto el Fuego," which means stop the fire. It's exactly the same game, played by people of different nationalities all over the world! And we played it tonight! Tonight, we played with Moonay from Japan, Art from Japan, Jaggy from Austria, Rainbow from Taiwan, Vincent from Taiwan, Flavio from Brazil, Mar from Brazil, Gemma (pronounced "Hemma") from Spain, Lily from China, Sakura from Japan, and me from the USA. We played until midnight, at which point we got kicked out of the common space because it's quiet hours. Most everyone is wanting to play again tomorrow!

I'm grateful for Dave and Christy, who didn't even ask me if I wanted to come with them; they just said, "we're picking you up." I'm grateful for the new friends I'm making at the hostel. I'm grateful for the fun times. I was feeling some social anxiety the first few nights at the hostel. I felt like I was an outsider. Now, I feel like I'm part of the crew. Zak Fisher, a friend and roommate in Zion, says, "Life happens when you leave your room." I like this saying more and more. It's so true. One could be content to live one's life in the comfort and safety of one's room. But the interesting, new, exciting, novel things happen when one leaves the safety and comfort of one's room and experiences the most unlikely and unexpected things that the universe devises.

[route22ny]

Looking at the rides I’d never go on, listening to the people screaming like Godzilla was about to eat them, the bizarre people I’d see who had nothing to do with the rides or the park made the place a visual exercise.

Even though I rarely did anything at Coney Island except go to the beach, walk the boardwalk, and eat at Nathan’s, it enthralled me. Looking at the rides I’d never go on, listening to the people screaming like Godzilla was about to eat them, the bizarre people I’d see who had nothing to do with the rides or the park made the place a visual exercise.

First of course was the Cyclone. One could hear the clattering and chattering of the metal wheels reverberating through the wooden frame from blocks away. And of course, the screams. The closer I got to it, the higher my blood pressure went, at least that’s what it felt like. I was so afraid of it that I was perfectly content to wait the few minutes at its exit for my friends. After all, it was terrifying. Over 2,640 feet of track during which the monster did 12 drops, the grandest of which was 85 feet at a 60-degree angle. Nor did it ever give you time to get your tongue out of the back of your mouth because the bugger ran off 27 elevation change in roughly two minutes time. My friends? Their appearance and pallor confirmed my fears. Then one night after graduation they jumped me, dragged me to a cyclone car, and held me down until the bar locked. I was screaming before it started; I uttered not a sound during the ride. If my fright was being measured by one of those fund-raising thermometers, the red stuff inside would have blown the top clear off. My fears became reality, and you can’t scream when every muscle in your jaw is locked down solid from fear.

I never rode the Cyclone again. About that time a “mini-roller coaster” named maybe Mighty Mouse was installed. I rode it and survived. I never rode it again. Why? What’s the sense when you knew it was a very poor substitute for the real thing. Roller coaster was gone forever from my activity posting. I began to think about knitting.

Never having been in the military, the next ride that always captured my attention was the parachute jump. I’m not sure even having been in the military I would have volunteered to become a paratrooper. Some things make absolutely no sense to me. Jumping out of an airplane attached to an oversized bedsheet was high on the list. But looking at it from a distance, when the sun was in your eyes so you could barely make out the lines of wire holding the chutes, it was magical. White puffs in different stages of opening. It was like something from a fairy tale. Except for the screaming. I never rode the parachute jump and considering what my friends did to me on the Cyclone, I never walked anywhere close to it. Like I said, jumping out of an airplane makes no sense, even without the airplane and even if “only” 262 feet above the cement where stood gawking people praying for the safety of their loved ones floating out of the sky and simultaneously thinking, “Why would any lunatic do that?”

Now we come to the stimulant for writing this piece. The Ferris Wheel of all Ferris Wheels has re-opened. Back then, and now again, it is called the Wonder Wheel. This Ferris wheel’s technical name is an eccentric Ferris wheel. And that’s the wonder of it.  A Ferris wheel’s cars are attached to the wheel. They swayed back and forth as you went round and round. Every so often it would stop, and you were suspended in the air with only the car between you and the ground. If you were in the top car…well that’s where the screaming came from.

Ahhh, but the wonder of this wheel is that it gave you that if you wanted it. But if you wanted more, it could give you that too. Some of the cars were on tracks; they were not stationary. As the wheel turned they rolled. Stopping at the top was a blessing because you got to catch your breath but once it began again your car started to roll forward and it looked like you were on the parachute jump, that your car would roll off into thin air, and float until it hit the ground. You want screams, from the Wonder Wheel you got screams.

I’ve got A-fib now so the guilt of not riding the rails or floating through the air, or rolling to and fro 250 above the ground is gone, but the memories do they ever remain.

***

text by William Gralnick, photo by Lore Croghan

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[hermankopusortizorsumshite]

You were part of SWAT, mainly partnered with Luca. Hondo always sent you two together. You were fond of the big blonde, often hanging out after work. When he comes into the squad room with a duffel bag.

“I need a room.” His blue eyes were tired, you could tell, but he still grinned.

“A room? Like a night?” You ask, eyeing him.

“I mean, yeah, a night or two.” He chuckles, heading to the lockers to change and get ready. You headed in and grabbed your uniform shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it.

“Well I mean, you can stay with me for a few days if you want. If you don’t mind dogs, of course. Achilles is pretty chill.” You smile, pulling on your work boots before disappearing.

The end of the day comes soon enough, Luca hopping on his bike, driving to your place. You invited him in, offering him your spare bedroom. The futon with a new mattress was enough for him, a smile on his face.

“I’m gonna start dinner, you got a preference?” You ask as you head into the kitchen.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks again for letting me stay.” He smiles as he sits at your island, taking the sharp knife from you and slicing the items for the salad. You went to work on the chicken, searing it on the dry frying pan. Luca chuckles, grabbing the pan from you. “Here, let me help you. First, turn this down, too high burns the outside, dries out the chicken. Second, pour a tiny little bit of water into the pan, keep the chicken moist.” He gives her her very own cooking show.

“Tell you what Luca, you cook. I’ll do the dishes. Show you a thing or two about scrubbing pans.” You smile, letting him take over and you head to the living room to turn on your stereo. Plugging in your iPod you play some R&B, Baby Bash’s ‘Cyclone’ comes on and you start to swing your hips a slow circle. Twisting your body in a circle as you grab the blanket off the couch and toss it to the chair. Luca watches with a smile as he watches your tantalizing hips as they swing in slow sensual circles, moving like an experienced dancer.

“Hey! Dinner’s done!” He calls as he makes your plate with chicken breast, golden brown, a baked potato, and a little salad, complete with silverware and ranch.

“Thanks. Hey! You okay after that fall today?” You ask, waving him to the couch.

“Yeah, I’m good. Tan was quick to make sure I didn’t sprain anything.” He smiles, taking a bite before landing on the couch next to you as you jam and eat. He’d been there multiple times and you fell in a comfortable silence, Luca disappearing only to reappear with a couple beers.

“My hero.” You gasp, clasping your heart and taking a big drink from the cold bottle. He chuckles, his arm resting against yours, sharing just enough heat to be comforting.

“Hey, thanks again. I know I can be a bit much for most people.” Luca murmurs, catching you off guard.

“What?” You ask, sitting the beer on the table with your empty plates.

“I’m a bit much. Too loud, too annoying, too much. Thanks for letting me stay.” He smiles before taking another drink.

“Dominique Luca, we’ve worked together enough that I’m used to you. Whoever said those things about you, I’ll cut ‘em.” You growl. He chuckles at your response. You supposed you and Luca were pretty close friends. He often hung out after work, and you knew just what to say to make him smile.

“Easy there, John Wick.” He laughs, slinging an arm lazily around your shoulder in a gentle, friendly hug. His arm was so warm and his presence was so comforting, so badly drawing you to him. You wanted to curl up against him and kiss his sweet pink lips. Shaking your head, you clear your throat and taking a drink from your beer.

“I’m serious, Luca. You’re a lot, sure. But I wouldn’t want to share this little apartment with anyone else on that team.” You smile, patting his knee as you take a sip from your beer.

Two months in, Luca was still sleeping in your spare room. You got pretty used to him living with you. Skipping into the house, you grab his doorknob, hearing a small whimper and then a loading thumping.

‘Oh shit!’ She mouths, backing away from the door. Jealousy struck her hard, thinking about how just yesterday they spent the whole day in each other’s arms laughing and surfing. He’d been teaching you how to board so you could join him at five in morning. Heading into your room and changing into a pair of denim shorts and a cropped tee shirt, you stuff your feet into converse and head out the door. Your feet carry you to a bar on Seventh, ordering a strong rum and coke. You pull out your phone, swiping through the pictures of you and Luca having fun doing various activities.

“Hey! What are you doing here? Isn’t it like, official Luca and Riggs hang out time?” Street crows as he walks up, sitting on the vacant stool next to you. You’d finished your third shot of whiskey by now, feeling warm and heartbroken over someone who didn’t even know how you felt.

“He’s currently banging some chick in my spare bedroom.” You spill, taking another shot.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry. He ditch you or something?” He asks, ordering a coke.

“No. I shouldn’t even care. But I do, man. I care a lot. He’s always been so sweet to me. And since he was teaching me to surf, I thought that meant-“

“That he likes you. Shit Riggs. I’m sorry. I could talk to him?” He offers, pulling out his phone. You were pretty drunk when you stood up, wobbling back and forth, grabbing Street’s leg as support. “Hey, let me drive you home.” He assures, helping you to his car and putting you gently in the passenger seat, buckling you in. “Hey Luca! You busy?” He asks into the speaker of his cell as he pulled up to your apartment building.

“Nah, why? What’s up?”

“Riggs is toast. She’s in my passenger seat right now. Wondered if you could carry her up the stairs.” He murmurs, letting you groan and grab his arm, cuddling against him.

“Yeah, shit. I’ll be down in a minute.” He appears at the door, worry in his furrowed brows. He pops open the door, scooping you so carefully from the car’s seat and carrying you up the stairs. Getting you through the door, he carefully puts you in your bed, pulling off your sneakers and covers you up.

In the morning, you were up and out the door by five thirty in the morning. Your smoothie in your hand, you were taking a drink when Luca came strolling up with a big grin.

“Man, you had a good night last night, huh?” He asks, nudging you with his elbow so playfully. You were a little confused but you shrugged. You weren’t in the mood for his Luca antics this morning. You had a hangover and crap ass attitude. He put on the boxing pads, getting into the ring. You took it entirely too serious. Your fists hit back and forth, volleying between his at hand over hand. You switched to left, left, right, then the opposite. You were so mad at him, you almost hit him in the face. You stopped, glove inches from his face, his blue eyes wide pools of fear.

Yanking off the gloves, you jump down from the ring. Your eyes meet Street’s and you two had a conversation with your eyes.

“What the hell happened?” Luca asks, eyes flicking between her and Street. Her eyes pleaded with the younger boy.

“Just mad that I got so drunk last night. Did you see that listing for the apartment at the adjacent building to ours?” You ask, pulling a folded paper from your duffel and stabbing it into the big blonde’s hand. He looked a little hurt. You disappear, changing your clothes into work shirt and pants.

“Hey, you want me to move out?” He asks as he steps into the room after her.

“Christ, Luca. I’m not talking about this here.” She growls, jamming her shirt into her pants and tightening her belt.

“Well, I guess I’m confused. I thought we were cool living together. I mean, we split everything. Isn’t it cheaper for you?” He asks.

“Yeah, sure. But you can’t put a price on privacy.” She hisses, eyes dark circles of anger. He was confused, had he done something wrong?

“Alright, sorry. I’ll be out by tonight.” He assures, turning pale and disappearing.

Luca saw Street and jogged to catch up with him.

“Hey! Can I ask you something?” He inquires as he takes a deep breath.

“What’s up?”

“Did she say anything at the bar last night? She’s so mad at me, and I can’t figure out why.” His fingers absently twiddled nervously.

“Mentioned something about a girl.” Street shrugs, kicking himself. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Oh. Shoot. She wasn’t supposed to be home until like seven. I figured we had time—oh my god. She likes me” He mutters, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I mean come on. She’s letting you teach her how to surf. The girl afraid of deep water.” Street chuckles.

“How’d you know about that?” He asks, narrowing his eyes on the young man.

“She mentioned it. At the bar.” He whispers, shoving the door open and a heading to squad brief.

At the end of the day, you head home without a word to Luca. When he got there, he found you slamming around the kitchen, making something to eat. With a soft chuckle, he carefully approached and grabs your hands. With a dark look up at him, you yank them away.

“Did you see the place on Tenth? Right by that beach you love so much?” You bite, shoving another listing across the island at him. He found it rather irritating.

“What’s your problem?” He asks, eyes begging you to tell him what he’d done. With a heavy sigh, he shrugs. “See? I always do this.” He mutters, heading towards his room.

“Luca, you’re fine.” You whisper, itching your shoulder before stalking to the living room. You started to pace the carpeted floor, making Luca dizzy.

“What’s wrong then?” He asks, softly.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.” You shove a hand in the air and roll your eyes.

“Riggs-“

“I think I like you. I mean, for Christ’s sake look at you.” You wave a defeated arm at his figure. He glanced down at himself, moving his arms from crossed over his chest. He found what he always found, a wide, broad chest, a white tank top, basketball shorts. He looks back to you half-confused.

“What does that even mean?” He asks, stepping a couple steps closer to you.

“What? Luca. You’re gorgeous. Holy shit. Something in my soul is always hunting for you. When we’re at work, I always look to make sure you’re in the room. When we’re here we spend every waking minute together. When I’m not with you, I want to be with you. When I’m with you, I can’t get enough of you. Those pretty blue eyes, Luca. They kill me. You kill me. I’d do anything for you. I’m sorry, I was just so jealous when I —“ He took a deep breath, grabbing his jacket and heading out the door. He needed to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. You, his closest friend as of late, the person he held most nightmares away from, had actually fallen totally in love with him. “Luca-“ He shuts the door, heading down to his bike and flying to the beach. The water lapped at his feet as he walked through the water, thinking about you. The way he loved when you fell asleep curled under his arm. He loved the way you smiled at him from across the squad room. He craved keeping you safe, your safety his number one concern. He found it comforting the way you played house so well together, you doing dishes and him cooking. As he took a step forward, he almost fell.

“Christ, I’m in love with her. Holy shit!” He runs to his bike, hopping on and zooming away to the apartment. As he tumbled through the door, he found your apartment missing you. He searched high and low, but to no avail. He groaned. You probably thought he didn’t reciprocate the feelings. You were probably crying somewhere. He felt his heart pound slow and heavy. He got to the squad gym to find you slamming relentless punches into the punching bag. He cringed, knowing you were probably imagining him. He crept up, careful not to scare you, and found your face bright red and puffy, cheeks wet with tears.

“Go home, Luca.” She whimpers, pushing at his chest, trying to get away from him.

“No. Listen to me.”

“No, please. I understand. I do, and I’m sorry for putting you on the spot.” You mutter, trying to leave the room. His arms trap you, holding you tightly against him.

“When I tell you, that I needed a second to think about everything you said, that’s what I needed. Christ, Riggs. You’re beautiful and so out of my league. I’m lucky just to be sharing an apartment with you. I’m so sorry for bringing some chick there. It almost felt like cheating, didn’t it?” He whispers, pulling your chin up to meet his sweet gaze. You gave a weak nod. “I’m so sorry for putting you through that. I just, when you didn’t come home that night, I was so worried. And finally when Street called, said you were passed out in his car. I was relieved. I carried you up to bed, made sure you were okay. I loved every second of it. I want to carry you to bed, drunk or not, for the rest of our lives. I love you, Riggs. I never thought I’d mean it the way I do, but damn. I love you.” He smiles, rocking you two back and forth. You were now grinning and crying. “I hope those are happy tears.” He smiles, swiping them away with the pad of his thumb before grabbing your face and kissing your lips. Right there with a dozen officers as witnesses, you two couldn’t find a better place.

“I love you too, Luca.”

[peppermintbee]

15 easy changes that would have made Kairi a more compelling character

Ever since finishing KH3 I’ve been completely preoccupied with what a disservice the writing does for Kairi. This isn’t an unpopular opinion; the KH3 tag is full of complaints regarding Kairi’s treatment. I think what’s really disappointing is that fixing her portrayal wouldn’t require that much work. So, if I was Nomura’s co-writer for KH3, here are the changes I would have suggested.

1. Don’t put her in the time chamber to train

Not only does the pocket dimension cause plot holes (Why can’t Sora train there? Why didn’t Kairi and Lea become high level in there?) it’s only narrative purpose was to keep Kairi and Lea out of the story while Sora was visiting Disney worlds. Having her literally anywhere else, where Sora can see and talk with her, would have been better than that.

2. Let her train and travel with Sora

Conveniently, the game is set up perfectly for having Kairi as a team member. Sora starts the game at LV. 1 and Kairi is a beginner keyblade wielder. They could visit the Disney worlds and git gud together. We know team mechanics were programmed for Kairi, since she briefly fights alongside Sora at the end. In the Disney worlds you can have up to 4 team members, so it doesn’t seem like a stretch that at least one of them could be Kairi (and/or Lea). With that, the opportunities for character building are endless: team banter, selfies, special team attacks, commenting on the Disney stories, etc. 

3. Or, give Kairi her own missions

Riku and Mickey are off screen because they are trying to find Aqua. Even though we don’t see much of them, this makes them active participants to the plot. Therefore, if she can’t be a team member, have Kairi be on her own  important story mission. A really easy one would be involving her in the Twilight Town investigation to find Roxas’ data and/or rescue Ansem the Wise. Maybe one of the turncoat Org 13 members works with Kairi. At some point, Sora and Kairi’s paths would cross, and they’d work together just like Sora and Riku did.

4. Have Sora mention Kairi every once in a while

Honestly, this is such a low bar it’s sad the game didn’t clear it. Sora frequently mentions Riku in the Disney worlds when something reminds him of him, he tries to call him, and he even talks about Riku in the social media loading screens. Kairi doesn’t get the same amount of attention. (Riku also doesn’t talk about Kairi.) It makes it feel like Kairi is not a priority to the characters, which makes it hard to be invested in her while playing.

5. Have Sora and Kairi greet each other when they finally meet

The first time Sora and Kairi are in a room together is after Ventus gets saved and everyone is talking in Yen Sid’s room. During this scene, most of the time Kairi is OFF SCREEN and has almost no lines. When she finally talks, she apologizes to Aqua and says something about saving Namine. Sora and Kairi stand about 5 feet away from each other and he only looks at her when she’s talking. This is dumb, especially considering Kairi and Sora haven’t seen each other in person since KH2 (!!!), a game that she also had very little presence in, and now that she’s finally here, she may as well be a part of the wallpaper. While Sora and Riku are reunited in the most badass way possible (a dimension crossing rescue and summoning of the great rainbow keyblade), Sora and Kairi aren’t even given so much as a chance to say “hi.” Simply include few lines of them being excited to see one another. A hug, a compliment, an “I missed you,” ANYTHING.

6. Just rewrite the entire paopu scene

This scene has such wasted potential. It’s the first time Kairi and Sora really talk to each other, which already starves the scene of emotional impact because their relationship feels underdeveloped and unearned. If this scene had even a little bit of foundation setting (see the above list) it wouldn’t have felt so forced. I’d argue the only foundation their relationship has is from KH1, which not only is over a decade old for players, but the characters themselves have changed a lot since then. 

Secondly, it is almost funny that a scene that’s supposed to be about Kairi and Sora starts with Sora talking about Riku. Would it have been so hard to put a scene change between the Riku/Repliku talk and this one and not awkwardly segue from Sora worrying about Riku to Kairi proposing to Sora.

Third, Sora shows almost no excitement about sharing a paopu fruit with Kairi until the very end, which only makes it feel more forced. He expresses shock, confusion, and even insinuates they don’t need to share a fruit since they are together in spirit. He says he’ll protect Kairi, which is kind of a lame promise since Sora protects all of his friends. Instead, Sora should have looked genuinely touched and excited about the paopu thing, and they should have made a promise that went beyond protecting each other, since that’s a given. (I do really like that Kairi vows to protect Sora, but considering what happens later it feels pretty hollow.)

8. Sora should protect Kairi with his keyblade, not a hug

Honestly, this was so dumb I don’t even know where to start. If there’s gonna be a Kairi hug, it should have been when they were reunited, or the paopu scene, or like... any other time. I get that it’s supposed to be a parallel to KH1, but that defense-hug made sense because Kairi was unarmed and untrained. (Plus, Kairi could actually shield heartless-Sora with her body. In this scene, Kairi and Sora are about the same size so it just looks like a normal hug, not protection). Just hours ago, Sora protected Riku from Aqua with his keyblade and it was badass. At the end of this scene, Riku protects Sora with his keyblade, and it’s badass. The hug isn’t badass, it’s stupid and it makes both Sora AND Kairi look incompetent, which it frustrating to witness.

9. Let Kairi literally protect Sora

As much as I like the scene where Riku protects Sora from the heartless cyclone, that would have been a perfect opportunity for Kairi to make good on her promise and protect Sora. We already know Riku will defend Sora, he did that in all the other KH games. Kairi shedding her damsel persona to defend Sora would have been amazing.

10. Play as Kairi in The Final World

If Kairi’s “light” is the reason Sora can persist in the final world, just abandon the whole deus-ex-kairi and let us play as Kairi. Kairi should collect the Sora fragments (or her own fragments), and save at least Sora and Riku’s heart. I think we should have been able to play as Kairi at some point anyway, but this seemed like an especially good time for it. That would elevate her role in saving Sora into something really believable, instead of Chirithy and Kairi just telling us she saved him when it feels like Sora just saved himself and everyone else (as usual).

11. Give Kairi a cool team attack

We only get to fight alongside Kairi for like, 10 minutes. At least give her a cool team attack. I’m not asking for a lot here.

12. Kairi doesn’t get kidnapped (and if she does, she goes down fighting)

Literally anyone else. I don’t care who. In fact, I think Riku would be a good candidate for kidnapping: not only does it subvert the damsel thing, but it would make the bad guys look pretty formidable if they were able to pull it off, and, Riku is important enough to Sora to “motivate” him to rescue him.

I’d rather she not get damseled at all, but if she really has to get kidnapped, it should at least be because she compromised her safety to save Sora or Lea. Then, when she’s grabbed, she should go down kicking and screaming, maybe taking out an Org member on the way out. Instead, the way it’s framed makes it looks like she got kidnapped because she sucks at fighting.

13. Give Kairi’s death/disappearance some real weight

I still stand by the fact that Riku is the one who should have been kidnapped but I digress. When Kairi explodes, Sora gets upset briefly before talking about closing Kingdom Hearts and receiving encouragement from his other friends. Xion reassures Sora that Kairi is fine, likely to justify why Sora gets over losing Kairi so fast. With a smile, Sora goes into the next battle and doesn’t mention Kairi until long after Xehanort is defeated. This makes her death feel like a cheap way to add superficial stakes and write Kairi out of the story (again). This can be fixed by having Sora react like a normal person, such as falling into complete despair or wracked with grief and vengeance, and having the other characters react appropriately too. 

At the end of the story, Sora and the gang are weirdly understanding of Xehanort when he gives his sob story, even though he exploded Kairi just a little while ago, and they don’t even demand to know how to save her. It really makes it feel like they forgot about her.

14. Don’t gloss over Sora’s end-game rescue of Kairi

We’re shown that Sora saved her somehow and now he’s gone. That’s all the script thinks we need to know because the next game is about Sora and Riku just like most of the KH games. Not that I really want another game about Sora rescuing Kairi, but the fact that this is barely graced with explanation really makes it clear that Kairi is little more than a plot device to set up the next game. I don’t really know how to fix this other than not fridging Kairi, or bringing Kairi back right after Xehanort is defeated, or making the next game about Kairi saving Sora. Which brings us to my last fix...

15. Send Kairi after Sora, not Riku

Kairi explicitly said she was going to protect Sora. Therefore, she should be the one implied to search for Sora at the end of the game. Having her cry on the beach while Riku went after him was lazy and cheap and everyone knows it. But, I suppose it’s fitting end for a character that Nomura clearly didn’t care enough about to write decent character development for.

And there we have it, 15 ways to make Kairi more compelling. If the game included even a few of these, Kairi would have felt like a more meaningful person and not a watered down version of KH1 Kairi. I can only hope that the next game has some strong female characters that we can all root for, but honestly, I’m not getting my hopes up.

Let me know if you have any other suggestions, I want to hear them!

[charlesandmartine]

Thursday 21st February 2019

A bit of a cloudy day again today. Since it is not the sort of day for Manly Beach, maybe it would be the kind of day suitable for Sydney. With this in mind we boarded the 180 bus on Sydney Rd bound for Wynyards. We had decided that our destination should first be Circular Quays for lunch then under the Bridge to the National Trust Centre.

The P&O ship Arcadia was in Circular Quays and we sat at the end of the Quay chobbling our ham rolls viewing her and the shipping activity across Sydney Cove. It would seem that the Arcadia should have sailed for Brisbane yesterday. We became aware of a further 4 cruise ships hovering in and around Sydney Harbour, far more than would usually be in Port. The reason for this we found out was the approaching Cyclone Oma now just off the coast at Brisbane and causing upset to our climate here too. Weather watchers are keeping a close eye on this because it is uncertain where it will hit land; it is the biggest in 30 years apparently and it could hit Brisbane shortly. Remarkably, warnings need to be made to surfers and swimmers to keep out of the sea! Because of this, cruise ships are keeping out of its way. Ultimately, Arcadia needs to be in Japan in a couple of weeks. All this might explain why there appeared to be a lot of tourists milling around in the vicinity of the Quay.

Lunch now settling nicely within our digestive system, we headed off for the National Trust Centre just next to the Bridge. We were not sure what sort of property this was to be, but armed with our Scottish National Trust membership cards we boldly went. What materialised was yet another piece of the jigsaw that made up the Destination Sydney art exhibition of which we saw one bit of at the Manly Gallery yesterday. Our membership enabled entry at a fraction of the usual cost and in we went. The artists on show were: Jeffrey Smart, Nicholas Harding and Wendy Sharpe. Very enjoyable, especially a short film, introduced by Clive James, about the life and works of Jeffrey Smart.

After a flat white we were considering returning home but happened to notice what was next door; the Sydney Observatory, built 1858 on the site of a former defence Fort. and Australia's oldest. Just like the Greenwich version, it has a ball on the turret which falls at 13.00 each day, originally for the purpose of giving all and sundry once a day the correct time. At one time a cannon was fired at the same time. It is intriguing that astronomers through the years having been viewing the constellations of the Southern hemisphere, so what little knowledge one has of great and little bear, it means nothing here. Good visit, and it was free.

Well we were definitely going to head back now but, hey wait a minute, why not walk across the Bridge whilst we are in the neighbourhood. So off we went and here are the facts for anyone remotely interested: completed 1932, 1149m in length, 134m high, 8 Road lanes and 2 rail tracks wide. A fantastic achievement to build but sadly 16 died in its construction. Ugly, maybe, stunning - yes. It's a fair old plod there and back, but worth every step for the views alone.

Having completed our round trip, we at last set out for home again in Balgowlah on the crowded, rush hour carrying E71 bus.

[littlereyofsunlight]

Goodbye, Dreamland (part 2)

Part 1 was posted earlier today. Catch up before you read the end!

Fic: Goodbye, Dreamland Pairing: Steve/Peggy Rating: T+  Summary:  Steve and Peggy take a trip to Coney Island in an alternate-timeline in which Peggy is brought to the future and Ultron never happened.

“You don’t think the Cyclone will make you queasy this time, do you?”

Steve shook his head. “I haven’t had any problems with my stomach since the serum.” He thought for a moment, then added, “Not that I’ve been on a roller coaster since then, but the way Nat flies the Quinjet has to count as a thrill ride sometimes.”

Peggy had only been up the one time when Natasha was flying, but she really couldn’t fault his logic.

“Well then, let’s go. I never did get to try it out on my last trip.”

Steve felt a familiar churning in his gut as their car rattled its way up the steep incline, but when the brakes released and they shot down the first hill, it unspooled into a pure rush not unlike what he felt when he got to jump from an airlift. It turned out, Peggy really liked roller coasters. It felt dangerous, the way the old wooden car careened over the tracks, slamming them from side to side on the curves. Beside Steve, Peggy screamed her delight and he gave an answering “whoop” when they crested the next hill.

“That was absolutely brilliant.” Peggy’s eyes were bright and her color high when they finally came to a stop.

“You liked it?”

“I’ve never felt anything like it!”

Steve smirked. “You should try jumping out of a plane sometime.”

She rolled her eyes and smacked him on the shoulder. “Yes, but no one was shooting at us here.” She smiled wide. “We’re going again.”

They rode the Cyclone two more times, and then did the Soarin’ Eagle, the Wild River, the Steeplechase, and the Thunderbolt. Peggy suggested the Slingshot next, but Steve steered her towards the Raceway instead. Steve liked to tell the story of how Peggy had been relieved of driving duties after a particularly harrowing escape through the Alps with the Howlies piled into the back of a troop truck. Now when he told it, he’d be able to add she was still hell on wheels even when the car was miniaturized. They did several circuits before Steve was able to pry her out of the driver’s seat, and then he only managed it with a promise of funnel cake.

The funnel cake vendor also sold fried Oreos, so Peggy insisted they sample those, too. Steve tried one Oreo, pronounced it “interesting” and then demolished his own funnel cake—they’d each ordered one, in deference to Steve’s advanced metabolism and Peggy’s legendary sweet tooth. Peggy agreed that the fried cookies were a strange confection, but she wasn’t about to let chocolate, even the inferior American version, go to waste.

Hot, sticky, and lightheaded from the combination of race car exhaust, waning adrenaline and far too much sugar in their systems, they agreed to take a break on the Wonder Wheel so they could take in the view.

When their car reached the full fifteen stories, the Wheel shuddered to a stop. Peggy leaned close to the cage, the better to see out past the boardwalk to the flat expanse of sand, crowded with Saturday beach-goers and all their gear, despite how late it was growing. “We should have brought our bathing suits, the bay looks perfect from up here.”

Steve looked over her head at the same view and felt a sudden swooping in his stomach. “Oh,” he said, quickly looking away.

“Something wrong?” Peggy turned back to him.

In an instant, Steve felt every last one of those one hundred and fifty feet between himself and the solid ground. He grabbed onto the seat divider in front of him as he inexplicably felt like he might lose his balance, though he was sitting down. “Uh, I guess I’m not used to just hanging out in midair.” He tried to laugh it off. “Maybe if I were chasing down Hydra, I wouldn’t notice how high we are.” His stomach gave another worrisome lurch.

Mercifully, they started moving again, and the feeling receded as they got ever closer to the ground. “Are we—” before he could get his question out, it was confirmed. They were going around again. Steve whipped his head around in confusion as the car sailed right past the ride workers and began a second ascent, and with it, his churning gut.

He closed his eyes and tried to control it by inhaling through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth.

“Oh darling, I didn’t realize it affected you so much.” Peggy had a little smile on her face as she shifted closer to him and put a hand high up on his thigh. “I’m sure we can think of some way of distracting you until the ride’s over,” she suggested, a sultry note in her voice.

“Oh,” he said, keeping his eyes trained on her hand so he wouldn’t catch sight of the view outside their little cage. “Uh.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time lust had turned him ineloquent, so in the aftermath Steve had to admit Peggy wasn’t exactly in the wrong for leaning in to kiss him at that moment. It was, however, not what Steve was trying to communicate just then.

The ride worker took one look at the mess Steve had made and heaved a sigh so loud Peggy was fairly sure people heard it in Queens. “I’m so sorry,” Steve murmured, actively willing himself to shrink back to his pre-serum size out of sheer mortification. Peggy said nothing at all, and she wasn’t quite sure if it was the shock or anger fueling her silence.

Once she was clear of the ride, Peggy made a beeline for the nearest restroom, holding the hem of her blouse out so the damp portion didn’t stick to her torso. Luckily her reflexes were still as fast as they’d been during the war, or it could have been much worse. Steve followed her, hoping there’d be a nearby spigot. At the time, he hadn’t been thinking about moving his feet out of the splash zone. He supposed he was lucky a day at the beach called for flip-flops.

There was no possible way she’d get her top clean enough using only bathroom soap and a hand dryer on its last legs. Peggy wasn’t about to walk back out into the fray with a giant stain on her shirt. Grinding her molars together, she reached into her bag and pulled out Steve’s souvenir.

Steve tried his best to hold in his laughter as Peggy stalked out of the rest room in the ridiculous shirt he’d never intended for her to wear, but the juxtaposition of her thunderous expression over the artificially inflated body drawn on her torso did him in.

“You seem to be feeling better,” Peggy bit out, shaking her hair out from the neck of the t-shirt. She crossed her arms over the horrible cartoon.

He wiped at his eyes and nodded. “I’m so sorry, Peg. I really didn’t know that would happen.”

Peggy sniffed. “You’ll have to make it up to me, Rogers.”

“Anything.” He looked especially penitent in the light of the setting sun.

She stretched her neck and let out a breath. “I think a very stiff drink is in order so I can deal with the double humiliation you’ve put me through.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

“We haven’t seen the fireworks yet, Steve.” She looked at him as though he’d suddenly lost all higher brain functioning.

Steve made a face. “Really? Even after—”

Peggy laid hands on him and turned him in the direction of Ruby’s Bar and Grill. “We came out here to experience all Coney Island has to offer. That includes fireworks,” she said through grit teeth. “Now, until said fireworks appear, we’re getting me a drink, Captain. You owe me.”

The boardwalk in front of Ruby’s was a crush of people trying to enjoy a beverage or ten that hot summer evening. Even though the sun was setting, the heat of the day lay heavy over the beach, a wan breeze occasionally providing slight relief. Steve waded into the crowd while Peggy hung back at the edge. Some time later he returned with two drinks in hand. She raised her eyebrow. Steve didn’t drink unless he was trying to be sociable, and they’d long passed the point in their relationship where he felt the need to keep up the pretense.

He shrugged. “I’m just holding this one while you finish the first. No way am I going back into that madness.”

“You’re making great strides towards getting back in my good graces,” Peggy smiled.

Steve grinned back at her. The crowd pressed in around them and the air felt stagnant, close, too humid and warm. He tipped his head in the direction of the aquarium, up the boardwalk. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yes please.” She gulped down her drink so they were only sneaking one adult beverage out of the bounds of the bar, then followed Steve as he cut a path through all the people milling around.

Eventually the crowds thinned out as Peggy and Steve made their way down the wide walkway.

“So this whole neighborhood used to be pretty upscale,” Steve said as they passed the housing project buildings in the distance. “Back when they called the waterfront attractions Dreamland. Then it went up in a fire.”

Peggy quirked her lip. “Much like our day.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “it was pretty much the opposite of what was advertised.”

There were hardly any people down this end, the revelers sticking close to the bright lights of Luna Park as they awaited the evening’s show. Peggy drew Steve over to a bench, and they relaxed as twilight gave way to nighttime. Though it was steamy, Peggy sat close to him, with Steve’s arm draped across the back of the bench.

“Sticking to the beach might have been a better plan,” Peggy said eventually, watching the water lap against the sand.

“It’s not the cleanest one by far,” Steve said. “And it’s always so crowded.”

Peggy let her head loll back against his shoulder. “That’s all part of the experience, though.”

“Yeah, part of the experience used to be running naked into the surf, so, you know, we won’t be repeating that any time soon.” He scratched at his neck, which was finally beginning to heal now that the sun was down. It was itchy.

“Were you here often?” Peggy asked. “Before the war?”

Steve shrugged. “My health was usually better in the summers, and doctors kept encouraging me to ‘take the sea air,’ which, sure, that helped some. But me and Buck definitely got into more scrapes out here than I care to admit.” He rested his chin against her hair. “We had a lot of fun.”

“Do you think he’ll come in from the cold one of these days?” She’d missed Steve’s run-in with the Winter Soldier, but it not the effects it had on him. Even now, he would rush out if Sam or Nat brought in word of a credible sighting. But Sergeant Barnes didn’t want Steve to find him. Not yet, at least.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.” She did, though she was afraid of what it could mean for Steve if it happened.

He looked down where their hands were linked in his lap. “Just can’t seem to shake the bad memories out here, huh?”

“They aren’t all bad, though, are they?” Peggy bit her lip.

Steve kissed the the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of sunscreen and Peggy’s shampoo. “It was pretty great seeing you go to town on those milk bottles at the shooting gallery,” he smiled into her hair.

Peggy chuckled. “The look on your face when that boy asked if you were Thor!”

“I was flattered.”

“Naturally.” The breeze finally picked up, and Peggy took the opportunity to snuggle in closer. “So, maybe a good day after all.”

Steve cupped her chin, gently tilting her face up to his. “Not all bad.”

And, as they kissed, the fireworks show began. As far as cliched days at Coney Island went, both Peggy and Steve had to admit this one was pretty great in the end.

[mariolandavid]

Ko Samui - Pt 1

Nature is frightening. That terror comes in many forms. Hurricanes. Cyclones. Earthquakes and Volcanos. It tears the ground from under us. Rains fire from above. The forces of nature are a horrifying and terrifying force. It can be said at times that Mariola occupies this bracket of natural force. When wronged, when unhappy, you don't want to be the wrong side of it. Sukhothai airport were not so lucky.

"You're an airport. And you don't take card. Well that's embarrassing isn't it"

Having not forgotten the ludicrous taxi situation on the way into Sukhotai, the airport nowhad the temerity to deny snacks and a diet coke. Why? Because we didn't have cash. Not being able to use a credit card in an airport, by definition an entry point of international currency; where those arriving might not have seen your currency in their lives, should be in the same bracket as Bubonic plague infection. Once a systemic issue. Now rarely mentioned.

Unfortunately no one has told Sukhothai airport this. So here we were, angrily grumbling. Wronged. Frustrated. Bangkok luckily is in the 21st century and therefore find it easy to separate 30 somethings from their money via card transactions. Bonchon was happy to do so; tempting us to pay over the odds for soy garlic wings meal deals. These were semi divine. A nice break from blog writing. I was all in for this layover. Take my Visa and bring me wings.

Even Bangkok construed to ruin this enjoyment by being a little goody goody. That dweeb who turns up at your work softball events, with their small laminated ring binder filled with rules and regulations. Who wrings joy from the world. Who finds the pettiest rules. Enforcing them to a draconian tee. Forcing hapiness from this earth at the expense of order. In this case, I had travelled, with a 150ml deodorant can in hand luggage through the following sets of customs. UK, France, Singapore (twice), Malaysia (3 times), Indonesia (twice), Vietnam (3 times), Cambodia (twice) and, funnily enough, Bagkok..

This time enough was enough. That excess 50ml of deoderant? Punish the interloper. Strip it from him. Leave him stinking on the runway. Into the bin it went.

It was only an hour flight and miraculously I could not sweat for that amount of time. A moment to say God rest your soul Bionsen deodorant, you did your duty.

Lub'D was a slick modern hostel. It had all the mod cons you were expecting. You could pay on card. Electricity flowed freely through these modern inventions: wires. Plumbing was everywhere. Your key was also a bracelet (okay I'll stop being fascetious, that one was actually quite cool).

Modern, well decked out and only slightly terrifying due to the planes flying 15m over your head, they were somewhat misguided in somewhow not including beer on their happy hour... but we lived. We settled, had a walk down the beach, watched a fire show, ate Prad Ka Prow and I did my best impression of Grandpa Simpson;  the speaker next to me causing me to ever so slightly mishear every single thing Mariola said all night at dinner. I'd regularly parrot back things like "Loose Cat Tweezers??", or "Energy sight hoop?". When I probably knew that's not what she'd said....

A thing we have realised again this trip, is that (surprise surprise) the two of us like organised fun. We crave it. A day without structured activity leads to societal collapse. Like with the bees. Without purpose we just kinda fall away, probably go off to bed and don't come back out again. Knowing this, we started scouring for some stuff to do and found a local ATV tour for the next day. Dusting off our driving thumbs we headed off to our dorm ready to rest.

Or at least we would have rested if the dorm wasn't filled with ghosts of my past. The bunk opposite me held a lad from Rochdale, the town over from mine growing up (horrible place, nice guy). The bed to the left had a girl finishing her first year of Leeds university. I immediately betrayed my age saying "yeah Trinity shopping centre, it's new you know". Her, obviously baffled, said "oh I didn't think that was new, is it?" to which I had to reply, well yeah no, I mean, it was new 10 years ago when I was at university....

This girl was likely in a womb at that point, waiting for the day she would speak to some old git complaining how the town was different in his day. Ah well. I'm coming to grips with having to speak to children born in the 2000's now who improbably are somehow legal adults. One day I'll get used to and accepting of it. Today I wonder why they aren't in Wimpy after their bowling party. We can all grow.

Morning came and the ATV pickup truck rocked up. Open top, just some rails in the back for protection. We were soon dealing with swirling winds as we tore down the road to the ATVs. What started with "hey this open top vibe is cool" soon became "ah hell, not a highway again" as we clung on for dear life, shielding our eyes from passing debris.

We arrived and found a Dutch family engaging in minor fraud, passing off what appeared to be a 8 year old boy as "definitely thirteen" so that he was allowed on an ATV. The cheery Australian owner was only happy to oblige, finding a miniscule bike to help this child kill himself. Frankly he did everything short of jerry rigging his own booster seat and we soon set off with the sound of cacophonous V8 engines crashing through the air.

It's a liberating experience thundering through countryside on an ATV. Nothing feels beyond you with those wheels. You feel like you're in a tank. Able to scale logs, sand, dirt, water. Land sea and earth are no barrier to your will. The group forged its own path through the landscape. Mariola and I had succumbed to the latest interne meme song ("It's Corn!") and could be heard, not only by ever other baffled non-plugged in tourist, but also in our videos, singing this weird song remixed about a small American boys love for the grain. It's hard to explain. Sorry to the parents reading this, but it's great and you should love corn. It's got the juice.

Scouring the countryside for 2 hours, scaling hills, waterfalls and cravasses, we returned to base and headed on our pick-up truck back home the return trip of course coming back in a rain shower (when travelling at the speed we were, this was akin to receiving an eyefull of wet glass 50% of the trip). We wolfed down a mango salad and some Mama noodles and hit up Samui central mall. The supermarket blew my mind. It had a damn robot selling hand sanitiser. If androids tried to sell me skincare, Aloe Vera gel drink, or any other Ponzi scheme I'd probably get it. Avon ladies should just be replaced by Wall-E and the company would probably overtake Google.

Retail therapy done (one phone screen protector & a host of snacks) we returned, freshened up and finished our night watching the fire dancers at Elephant Beach club, (outrageously talented) enjoyed a taste massaman curry at Best Restaurant (fine) before watching the systematic dismantling of fragile male egos in recent history at Ark bar. Two women stood. Towering over the pool table in skin tight clothing. A casual air and a casual devil may care laugh. A loose grip and a dead eye. These girls were monsters. Pool sharks, plain and simple. I've never seen shots like it. They were naming pockets on double cushion shots while the mysterious "male companion" chaperoning these two ladies, hosting a limp and a number of face tattoos, watched on.

My pool game peaked in 2010 when I was allowed free pre 4pm games and 20p a table after at the Brudenell Social Club. Frankly I've been in inexorable decline since entering the working world and the one day in my life I did 8 ball a guy, I would frame the date on my wall it was such a once in a lifetime occasion. These girls could probably do it in their sleep. We weren't getting suckered into this game. We were content to sit playing match after match of Connect 4 like every other couple in there (after a long day... hell, a long 2-3 months travelling, sometimes you might run out of words for a while..) - silent night over, we turned into bed.

Morning was broken by distressed phone calls. The German girl sharing our room had grossly overslept. To a panic attack level. Imagine having to pack every worldly possession you have. In a hurry, just waking up, while some Thai man who speaks a little english, but not enough to really comfort you, or convince you he's gonna wait for you, while you are tired. Most likely hungover. Possibly still stoned. All the while sweating with fear and anxiety at everything and the world. Yikes, no thanks. We had a lot of time until our boat to Ko Tao because I cannot emotionally or mentally deal with that stress.

The boat trip to Ko tao was seamless. We got a cab to the port, loaded up with carby snacks and readied for the 2 hour trip. An insanely sociable aussie PE Teacher sat next to me and recounted her moving to Vietnam and Thailand for work, how her girlfriend got her a gig in a line of crypto commercials, how, in frightening detail, she had completely totalled her motorbike in Vietnam and casuallly got it re-skinned in luminscent astral purple (looked rad) and some good spots for diving.

When I say sociable, I mean, hell this girl was friendly. She practically assaulted strangers with conversation. It was amazing, like seeing the tropes of tourretes or something else where the body can't help but react to something with a tic, but harnessed for social interaction. I, being English, am physically incapable of this level of extrovert-ism and calmly observed and reacted when it was polite to do so. You guys carry the flag, I just live in this world.

We parted ways, and all of us were ready to hit up sun, sea and surf that awaited in Ko Tao

[mitchbeck]

CANTLON: ALL BLACK NHL LINE FOLLOWS A STRONG HISTORY

BY: Gerry Cantlon, Howlings HARTFORD, CT - Hockey's continued growth in non-traditional communities received a big boost with the line of all-black players deployed by the Tampa Bay Lightning’s Head Coach, Jon Cooper, at the end of the  NHL's regular season against their in-state and soon-to-be playoff rival, the Florida Panthers. Tampa Bay suited up Gemel Smith, the older brother of Detroit Red Wings' Givani Smith, Mathieu Joseph, whose younger brother Pierre-Olivier is with the Pittsburgh Penguins, and ex-Hartford Wolf Pack, Daniel Walcott on Tuesday night.

HISTORY OF ALL-BLACK LINES

In hockey, there have been six all-black line combinations who've played together at various sports levels. The first known line was sent out on the ice in 1948-49 in the Quebec Senior Hockey League (QSHL). Brothers Herb and Ozzie Carnegie took the ice with Manny McIntyre for the Sherbrooke St. Francois. It wasn't until February of 1970 when the St. Mary’s University Huskies (Halifax, NS) had a game against Mount Allison University (Sackville, New Brunswick) in a Canadian college contest in the Atlantic University Athletic Association (AUAA) as it was called then. The school’s beloved and revered head coach, Bob Boucher, put together a trio of Percy Paris, Darrell Maxwell, and Bob Dawson. Skip ahead to the next known example in 1998-99 when the United Hockey League's Flint Generals sent out Kahil Thomas, Jayson Payne, and Nick Forbes to skate together. That team also featured ex-New Haven Nighthawk, Ross Wilson, and ex-New Haven Senator Lorne Knauft. Thomas reprised his role again with the Jacksonville Barracudas (SPHL) in 2006-07, skating alongside Hamden's Dan Hickman and a goalie turned forward for Ty Garner. Garner had suffered a serious groin injury in Norway the year before. He was advised by doctors not to play at all, let alone goalie, for a year, so he played as a forward instead and made history.

HAMDEN'S HICKMAN

Hickman played for one of the state’s premier public school programs, the Hamden High School Green Dragons. He would play Division-III college hockey with Southern New Hampshire University (Northeast-10) (formerly known as New Hampshire College). The Barracudas would be his second pro season of the four he would eventually play. Hickman skated for three teams that season having been traded late in the season by the Pee Dee (SC) Cyclones to Jacksonville. “Our coach put the line together. I think he and Ty might have been chatting,” remarked Hickman in a phone interview. ”The really neat thing is we had great camaraderie off the ice. We hung out on the beach, hit the arcades, and to be honest; I had never played on a team with three black players before at any level.

HICKMAN'S THOUGHTS

"We were a good line, too, because Khalil was a shifty quick player. I was kind of an in-between player with finesse and physical play, and Ty was a beast out there. We were together a few games, but I think we helped spark the team. We went all the way to the championship finals that year.” When asked if he realized at the time how unique and rare it was at that point to have an all-black line skating together, he replied, “We had talked about it, and Khalil had done it earlier. We really wanted to do it and, but I didn’t realize how rare it really is at the time.” In his first year, Hickman skated with four different teams in four different leagues before concluding his minor pro career in the Nutmeg State, playing for the Danbury Mad Hatters of the Eastern Professional Hockey League (EPHL). On March 22, 2021, Thomas’s son, Akil, was united with the LA Kings' top draft pick last season, Quinton Byfield, and NHL vet Devante Smith-Pelly. They played on a line for the AHL Ontario Reign against the Bakersfield Condors in a 5-4 shootout win.

WILLIE O'REE

In minor league hockey,  the great NHL Hall-Of-Famer, Willie O’Ree, played in the AHL for the New Haven Nighthawks in their first season in 1972-73. He played fifty games before heading back to his current home city of San Diego. He also played for the old Western Hockey League, San Diego Gulls, for five seasons in the late 1960s and early 1970s. O’Ree was drafted by the WHA's Los Angeles Sharks on February 12, 1972, in Anaheim. Despite living in the area, he never received a contract offer. When the WHA's San Diego Mariners came to town (1974-1977) with his old New Haven Nighthawks teammate, Kevin Morrison, there were some discussions, but not much came of it.

BREAKING THE COLOR LINE

O’Ree broke the NHL color barrier on January 18, 1958, to play for the Boston BruinsCanada against the Montreal Canadiens. He would score his first NHL goal nearly two years later, in 1960, with the Bruins against the Canadiens. O’Ree has stated that at the time, he was not aware he had done anything of significance.

MEETING JACKIE ROBINSON

O’Ree followed in the footsteps of Jackie Robinson, whom he met first on a youth baseball trip to Ebbetts Field in Brooklyn at age 14 in 1949, two years after Robinson had broken the color barrier (April 15, 1947) in baseball. They would meet again at an NAACP luncheon in 1962. O'Ree was skating for the minor pro WHL, Los Angeles Blades, at the time. Robinson was a fixture in the city of Montreal where O’ Ree broke the NHL color barrier when they had a Triple AAA farm team called the Royals in 1946. The first game for Robinson was on the road on April 15, 1946, in Jersey City, NJ, at Roosevelt Stadium before an SRO crowd in a 14-1 win. Robinson helped his team win the International League championship later that season in Montreal.

BLIND IN ONE EYE

O'Ree played his off-wing side because he was blind in one eye.  The accident was suffered in 1955 playing for the Kitchener Canucks (OHA) when he was hit by the puck in his right eye. He never divulged it to anybody but still managed to have a productive minor pro career.

OTHER HISTORICAL CONTRIBUTORS

The first black professional player in the United States was Art Dorrington. Like O'Ree, he was a fellow Canadian Maritimer from Truro, Nova Scotia. Dorrington is 91-years-old and played in the old Eastern Hockey League in the late 1940s and 1950s. The New Haven Nighthawks had two other black players of note. Dave Nicholls played one season with the 1985-86 Nighthawks and just six games the following season before being sent to Flint (IHL). The 6’7 tough-as-nails, Peter Worrell, played sixty games in a little over a season from 1997-1999 with the Beast of New Haven. In roller hockey, the Connecticut Coasters, who graced the concrete of the New Haven Coliseum for a summer in 1993, had a player. He was a former Middletown resident, Berkley Hoagland, who got his hockey baptism at Wesleyan University. Hoagland had been an assistant coach with Huntington Beach (CA) H.S. However, he stopped two years ago, but has been involved in ice and roller hockey in California for over twenty years and owns a local LA BBQ restaurant chain catering business.

THE FIRST FOR HARTFORD WOLF PACK

The Wolf Pack have had many minority players in their team history. The first edition featured defenseman Jason Doig, and later, Donald Brashear. Ryan Constan is a full-blooded Cree Indian, while goalie Al Montoya is a Cuban-American. Perhaps their most successful player is Maple Leafs' assistant coach, Manny Malhotra, of Indian-Canadian descent. The CT Whale had one minority player in Andre Deveaux. The Wolf Pack 2.0 has had Akim Aliu, Boo Nieves, Charles Williams, James Sanchez, and Walcott.

SOUND TIGERS

The former Bridgeport Sound Tigers, who have been re-christened as the Bridgeport Islanders, have had their share of minority players. Rhett Rakhshani grew up in California, learning hockey on the streets and in roller hockey leagues. Interestingly, Hoagland was one of his coaches. He is a second-generation Iranian-American. Joey Haddad played eight games with the Sound Tigers. He was a second-generation Lebanese-Canadian who comes from a very fertile Middle Eastern hockey community of Lebanese-Syrian heritage. It's located in Sydney, Nova Scotia, known locally as the ”The Gaza Strip.” Alaska's Justin Johnson is one of 14 Alaskans to play in the NHL that includes ex-Pack, Joey Crabb. Another Alaskan is New Haven Blades legend Kevin “Squid” Morrison. His mother was Lebanese, and his father of Scottish background. He's Haddad’s first cousin, as his mother’s maiden name was Haddad. Morrison loves being part of this niche part of hockey history.

OTHER MINORITY PLAYERS

The Hartford Whalers had Ray Neufeld and Scott “Chief” Daniels, a full Cree Indian, plus assistant coach Ted Noland, a full-blood Ojibway Native Canadian. Blair Atcheynum, a Whalers draft pick, never played for the team but did play for the New Haven Senators (AHL). He was also a full-Cree Indian like Daniels. The New England Whalers had one player, Henry Taylor, on their 1976-77 team. He played in some exhibition games but played for two years with the famous Johnstown (PA) Jets in the old North American Hockey League (NAHL). The New Haven Blades of the old Eastern Hockey League in the 1950s and 1960s. They had two players in Alf Lewsey who skated for two years and played on the 1955-56 championship team. The following season, Ray Leacock, played on the 1957-58 team for his last pro season. Lewsey was from Winnipeg and Leacock from Montreal. A new chapter could be written as the all-black college Tennessee State University is actively looking into making hockey a Division-I varsity sport and could become the first all-black college to do so in US history. Credit former Meriden Record-Journal sports reporter Geoge Dalek, who covered pro hockey for 30 years, for this info. Credit to Aubrey Johnson and John Gibbons from the Eastern Hockey League Facebook page for their information on the New Haven Blades. NHL HOME Read the full article

[teenguyen92]

Why Friends With Benefits Are the Best Relationships

Just a nice article to read. It seems true to me though.

In a few days, I’m going to Cuba on vacation with a guy I’ve been sleeping with for eight years, but whom I've never once called my boyfriend. We live on different continents, but inevitably, a few times a year, we find each other somewhere in the world, have a few days of romance, and then go our separate ways. This arrangement would generally be called a friend with benefits, or a fuck buddy, or a romantic friendship, or perhaps even a relationship—with “no strings attached.” But let’s be real: There are always strings, aren’t there?

It was while planning this vacation that it hit me: The two longest relationships of my life have both been with men who I was never officially dating. Boyfriends and girlfriends have come and gone, but my friends with benefits have stood the test of time. I mean, eight years. That’s longer than I predict my first marriage will last. And while I can’t imagine being with my Cuba date “for real”—I mean, he’s a low-key homeless anarchist who once took me on date to his Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meeting; there are red flags—I still value our relationship immensely. And he actually knows me better than a lot of my partners ever did. So what is it about the friends with benefits dynamic that is more sustainable, and often more transparent, than an actual relationship?

People are skeptical of fuck buddies. They’re like: How can you have sex with the same person, again and again, without falling in love? Or at least, without getting super-jealous and Fatal Attraction–esque? Some assume that one of the “buddies” is always being strung along, secretly hoping that the fucking leads to something more serious. Others dismiss fuck-buddy dynamics as just being compulsive sex that’s devoid of emotion. But why do things have to be so black and white? Surely it’s possible to find a middle ground between eternal love and zombie-fucking a stranger: a place where you can care about someone, have good sex, and yet not want to literally implode at the thought of them sleeping with someone else. Right?Case in point: The most significant romantic friendship of my life was with an ex-editor of mine, whom I’ll call Malcolm. We started “a thing” five years ago and have yet to end it. When I met him, he was 45 and charmingly grumpy, and he would always tell me: “Sex is so perfect. Why destroy it with a relationship?” I’d go over to his apartment for a couple hours in the afternoons, we’d have sex (soberly, which meant I could actually cum), and then afterward we’d drink tea and complain about stuff. It was the best.

There were times when we saw each other frequently, and other times when things dropped off for a while, usually because one of us had a partner. And sure, when he would get a girlfriend I would be a little bummed out—I’m (unfortunately) not a sociopath—but it didn’t cause me to spiral into an emotional cyclone the way I would have if I’d been cheated on by a boyfriend. After all, disappointment comes from expectation.Over time, Malcolm and I became really close. It felt like we had entered this secretive bubble of transparency—we were emotionally intimate, yet free of the burden of jealousy and ownership. We could spill our guts to each other because we didn’t have anything to lose. I told Malcolm about my previous relationships, my fantasies, my heartbreak. Once, he told me this long, complicated story about an affair he had with his cousin, adding, “That’s not something I tell most people.” Probably wise on his part, but I loved that story, as problematic as it may be, because I loved knowing something about him that no one else did. Sometimes it feels like we are more honest with our friends with benefits than we are with our partners.This paradox always makes me think of that Mad Men episode when Betty seduced Don at their kid’s summer camp, well after they had both remarried. Afterward, when they’re lying in bed together, Betty says of Don’s new wife, “That poor girl. She doesn’t know that loving you is the worst way to get to you.” Harsh. But sometimes, romantic friendships can offer a type of intimacy that committed relationships can’t.I was curious to know if Malcolm felt the same way I did about all of this, so last week (for strictly journalistic purposes), I paid him a visit. “Having a friend with benefits is great because it’s just—it’s just less annoying,” he said, smoking a cigar and dressed in an inexplicable beige silk onesie. “It’s more of a low-intensity intimacy. It’s not encumbered by obligations, which just lead to resentment.”He then gave me that look—the one that means he’s about to admit to something despicable and blame it on humanity. “We are all selfish—we all live in this Ayn Rand–ish self-centered world, whether we like it or not,” he said. “When you’re in a friends with benefits situation, you don’t have go to the other person’s awful friend’s birthday party. But if you behave like that within a conventional relationship, it causes problems.

“With [FWB] there’s no illusion about the carnal aspect,” he went on, “so you can be really literal about it: You are two people who like and respect each other—and you like to fuck. There’s beauty and freedom in that honestly. And you can be playful. You can have your sex-power persona, or you can play the super-misogynist pig, or the bimbo, and it’s okay, because you’re not being judged. But if you change that dynamic into being a real relationship, then those games might not seem so sexy anymore.”In other words, your fuck buddy gets all the good stuff about being in a relationship—the wild sex, the cuddles, the juicy dark secrets—minus all of the boring, would-rather-die activities that go hand in hand with commitment, like having to help assemble your boyfriend’s IKEA bed, or having to watch your girlfriend stab at the ingrown hairs on her bikini line while she watches the Kardashians. (That’s me—I’m the girlfriend who does that.)Essentially, you’re taking a relationship and removing the creepy ownership of another human being, which leaves more room for hedonism and sexual exploration. Like, who do you want to bring to the sex party—your boyfriend or your fuck buddy? It’s a no-brainer. I’ve done so many things with fuck buddies that I never would have tried with partners, because I was too much of a jealous monster. (Like once I let Malcolm tie me to a dresser while I watched him have sex with my best friend. Unsurprisingly, it was literally awful, but now at least I can say I’ve done it?)One of the most masterful fuck friends I know is my friend Casey, a 26-year-old Ph.D. candidate in English, who until recently had a FWB for 12 years. It started when she was 13, with a boy whose family spent every summer in the same beach town as she did. (Cute alert.)Over martinis at Cafe Mogador, Casey told me, “When I’m dating someone, my immediate impulse is to be like, ‘Let’s lock shit down! My anxiety will decrease if I know you want to marry me in six years from now!’ Which is crazy and not hot or sustainable. But my longer romantic friendships have been a safe space. They’ve helped me figure out how to relate to someone romantically without the immediate trigger of, Where is this going?” In other words, having a fuck buddy is a great exercise in non-possessiveness.

“The thought of my boyfriend fucking someone else makes me want to wear his skin like a goddamned wetsuit,” she said, eyes bulging. “But with my fuck buddies it’s been like, ‘Oh, my God, tell me more.’ There’s almost a level of titillation to sex stories when it’s somebody who’s not your boyfriend. But why is that? I wish I knew, so I could bottle it and never be possessive ever again.”For all the benefits of fuck friendery, it’s still possible for this dynamic to screw with your emotions. “At different points in our relationship,” Casey recalled, “it was hard to respect the line between friendship and flirting when he started dating someone, because I’d known him more intimately than his new partner. It’s like my morals were thrown out the window, and I felt this gross egotistical sense that I should come first, because I’ve been around longer, like, ‘Girlfriends come and go, but I’m forever.’” Sometimes it’s hard to accept that these dynamics usually have an expiration date, which tends to be when one person gets into a committed relationship. And, unfortunately, not only do you lose the benefits, but you sometimes lose the friend, too.We are taught that all relationships that don’t end up in marriage are failures (because, ya know, hetero-normativity and patriarchal narratives or whatever). But subscribing to that belief ignores the fact that romantic friendships can be extremely fulfilling, enlightening, and straight-up fun. Of course, I’m not dismissing the benefits of committed, long-term, loving relationships. But both dynamics are valuable in their own right. And perhaps the reason romantic friendships are often so sustainable is they lack the soul-baring vulnerability and intense emotional investment.Maybe the coolest thing about the fuck-buddy economy is that it allows women to actually enjoy sex in a casual way, without having to enter an old-fashioned ownership contract. It celebrates female sexual autonomy. It’s a chance to explore ourselves and other people. And in the interim, we can discover who we are and what we like, instead of committing to a pseudo-marriage we aren’t ready for.

[aardvark-123]

Gensokyo Festival Day 18: The Great Race

A fairly ridiculous tale of derring-do on the high seas.

Miko's clenched fist thwacked into the wooden table, making the dishes tremble and clatter. Tojiko yelped as her scrambled eggs went flying.

"I am sick and tired," said Miko furiously, "of losing to Byakuren and her goody-two-shoes Budhhist collective every time we have a race. Her bicycle has an oil engine, her entire temple is a flying ship... We can't let this continue!"

"But what can we do?" said Futo glumly. "Mine own boat cannot fly, nor have we a single motorised velocipede, and the Budhhists hath no shopping trolleys. Even in a foot race, the accursed false saint Byakuren wouldst trounce us..."

"It's just not fair! Why can't we be the ones with the cuddly yamabiko and the massive ship and the ghost with a ladle and the-"

"THAT'S IT!" Tojiko leapt to her tails with both arms raised in a spirited double fist-pump. "A boat race! Futo's boat can't be beaten on the water!"

"It cannot?!" Futo stared at Tojiko in amazement. "Ah, may I remind thee that the Buddhists are in possession of a colossal flying vessel-"

"Which is still at the mercy of fluid dynamics in the water," Tojiko cut in. "Trust me. A small, nimble boat can never lose!"

Byakuren laughed a superior laugh. "A race? On the water? Oh, Miko, our mighty Palanquin can never lose! It would be the biggest humiliation of your life."

Miko raised one eyebrow. "Your point being?"

"My point being we should do it. Would Tuesday be good for you?"

"Why not Monday?"

"Well, why not Sunday, then?"

"Why not Saturday?"

"Why not Friday?"

"Let's just do it now," suggested Miko.

"Be at Misty Lake in one hour," agreed Byakuren.

A gaggle of fairies and a few of the local youkai had gathered on the northern shore of Misty Lake. One of them was selling grilled lampreys.

"Good luck! Bon voyage!" Yoshika was waving her handkerchief as best she could with such stiff arms. A single tear rolled down her unhealthily grey cheeks. "I'm going to miss them..."

"They're just sailing across the lake, you idiot," sighed Seiga. "Good luck, Miko, Futo and Tojiko! Have a great time!"

"We'll send you a postcard when we get there!" shouted Tojiko.

Space was at a premium on Futo's little wooden Ame no Iwafune, so Miko had to stand in the prow. She stood like a proud and fearsome warrior, with one hand on her hip and the other holding her shaku aloft. She signalled to Mamizou, who was hovering above the shore with megaphone in hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, both captains have declared themselves ready! The Great Holy War on the Water will begin in precisely a few seconds!" shouted Mamizou. She squinted at her pocket-watch. "Five... Four... Three..."

"Tojiko, spin those tails!" ordered Miko.

"Right!" Tojiko lowered herself off the stern until she was chest-deep in the icy water of the lake. Her tails spun into a frenzy, roaring as they churned up the water. The Ame no Iwafune shot forwards.

"Good-for-nothing cheaters... Punch it, Captain!" ordered Byakuren.

Minamitsu immediately began barking orders. Shou, Ichirin, Unzan, Kyouko, Nazrin, Nue and a dozen youkai monks ran around the deck, hoisting the sails, shivering the timbers and whatever else people apparently have to do on a ship. Slowly but surely, like an avalanche gathering speed, the Palanquin began to move.

"Not a chance." Miko could barely suppress her triumphant laughter. "We've got it in the bag, you two! Oh, I can almost see the look on Byakuren's face!"

"I hadst not a notion that my vessel couldst do this! Woohoo!" Futo's legendary boat was crashing through the waves faster than a horse could run, faster even than a tsuchigumo could fly. Squeezed between Miko and Tojiko, Futo was having the time of her life.

"Glad you're... Having... Fun..." panted Tojiko.

On the deck of the Palanquin, Byakuren sighed deeply. "So much for punching it. Captain, is there any way we can go faster?"

"Not without using the cyclonic drive, and that'd be cheating," said Minamitsu glumly.

"Really?" Byakuren's eyebrows rose in a look of innocent surprise. "It wouldn't be cheating as long as we stay in contact with the water, now, would it?"

"...It wouldn't? Well, I..." A wicked grin spread across Minamitsu's face. "I like the way you think. Engine room, activate the cyclonic drive! Maximum thrust!"

The roar of a mighty wind sounded inside the Palanquin's hull. Its sails billowed as an invisible force blew upon them, sending the ship charging forwards.

Futo soon heard the roaring of the Palanquin's engines. She glanced over her shoulder and almost screamed. "Miko! Tojiko! They-they're coming after us!"

"Yeah, but we're miles ahead." Miko glanced behind the Ame no Iwafune. Her jaw dropped. "T-t-t-t-t-t-Tojiko, hurry up!"

"Are you... Kidding...?! I'm... Exhausted... Already..." gasped Tojiko.

"Damn it..." Miko grit her teeth and tried to come up with a plan. "Futo, you can make this thing fly, right?"

"The Ame no Iwafune is not a mere 'thing', Your Highness," said Futo severely. "I can, however."

"Good. Do that, but fly touching the surface of the water, all right? Tojiko, go ahead and take a break." Miko swung around to face the onrushing Palanquin. "I'll see if I can stop this lot in their tracks."

Futo rose unsteadily to her feet, stomping on Tojiko's hand in the process. "Heaven Sign: Iwafune Ascending to Heaven!"

The boat surged forwards. Blue and purple bullets exploded from the stern, making Tojiko yelp with pain as they battered her tails. She hauled herself onto the deck, curled up between Futo's feet and glowered up at her warm fleecy shorts.

"Now, that's what I call speed! Futo, you rock!" declared Miko, giving Futo a pat on the back.

"Um," said Futo, "I did barely comprehend a quarter of thy words."

"She's saying thou art a fruitful, honey-tongued Welsh cheese," grunted Tojiko.

Futo's cheeks turned pink. "T-truly?! O sweet prince, how my heart doth sing to hear those words, albeit from the rather less savoury mouth of Tojiko! Cometh to my arms!"

Before Miko could cometh to anybody's arms, a heavy iron grappling-hook smashed into the water.

Tojiko gasped. "The bastards! They're trying to harpoon us!"

"I knew it," growled Miko. "Let's see how they like this. Divine Light: Honour the Avoidance of Defiance!"

Miko hurled dozens of golden rays in her enemies' general direction, followed by countless multicoloured bullets. All was quiet for a few seconds, and then a barrage of purple rectangles came flying off the Palanquin's prow.

"Good thinking, straw hat girl. Trying to hem us in." Miko smiled. "Futo, evasive manoeuvres! Now!"

Futo swung the Ame no Iwafune around, willing the boat to move with every fibre of her being. She drove the boat at full tilt past the Palanquin's flank.

"Perfect! There's no way they can hit us now!" laughed Miko.

"They won't need to, though, will they? We've just lost the lead," Tojiko pointed out.

Miko's good mood immediately vanished. "Oh, shite. She's going to be insufferable, isn't she?"

"Completely," groaned Tojiko.

"I'm so sorry..." sobbed Futo.

It turned out, however, that Byakuren was going to be anything but insufferable. The Palanquin was rapidly running out of lake.

"Oh, my days! Captain, quick, turn!" screamed Byakuren.

"No time! Brace, everyone, brace!" wailed Minamitsu.

The Panalquin skidded up the beach and arced up over the dense forest. The cyclonic drive roared in defiance, but there was nothing it could do against momentum. The mighty ship crashed nose-first among the trees, scattering the crew into the canopy.

Scudding over the lake half a mile away, Miko burst out laughing. "Come on, you two, that is just PRICELESS! Up the beach, into the forest, bye-bye Palanquin! Gods, I love races. We need to have an Incident one of these days where everything gets sorted out by racing. Maybe we could let the spectators throw stuff at the competitors, just to spice things up-"

"WE'RE HEADING STRAIGHT FOR THE MANSION!" screamed Tojiko.

Miko went pale. They were indeed speeding towards the Scarlet Devil Mansion. "Um-"

The Ame no Iwafune shot up over the beach and smashed into the clock tower.

After a few minutes, Tojiko stirred beneath the crimson rubble. She forced herself up on her hands and things resembling knees, trembled, and flopped back down in defeat.

"You know," she said grumpily, "being beaten up by a bratty vampire and her sadistic maid is exactly how I like to spend my afternoons."

For advice on flowery Shakespearean compliments that make Futo’s heart sing, start here: https://www.folger.edu/sites/default/files/QuotesScripts_Compliments.pdf

[awintersail]

New Zealand -Part One

Kia Ora.  This is the Maori equivalent of Aloha and Shalom.  Hello.  Be Well.  Good-bye.  We are traveling between Napier and Wellington tonight.  We did not actually visit Napier, but more on that later.

Our first stop in NZ was the beautiful little resort town of Russell, on a peninsula on the north tip of the North Island, located in the Bay of Islands, of which there are many.  It looks like a Cape Cod town, though it has a more checkered past which was being celebrated while we were there.  In the 19th Century, Russell was known to the righteous as the “Hell Hole of the Pacific” because of the bars, gambling joints, and brothels which serviced the whalers and other unsavory types who sailed these waters.  This past is commemorated each year and we happened to land during the celebration, which features a comedy street theater production featuring the citizens of that time.  A few photos are attached.  We wandered around the town and walked to the top of the Flagstaff Historic Reserve Lookout (I will spare you the history of this summit), a pretty steep climb.  From there we descended, also steeply, and walked to the beach on the other side of town from the port.  

We next landed in Auckland, NZ’s largest city, variously reported to be 1.4 to 1.8M people, depending on who you ask.  It is an attractive city, with a well-developed waterfront and thriving center city.  We arrived on the local holiday commemorating the city’s founding, so there was a lot going on.  This was one of the few places we have stayed 2 days, so we were able to take a general bus tour of the city on the first day and devote part of that day and all of the the second day to our own activities.  After the bus ride, we took a ferry across the harbor to the neighborhood of Devonport on the north shore.  It is a pretty, and pricey, neighborhood with great views into the downtown.  Of course, all of NZ is expensive.  For instance, gasoline is about $8 per gallon, and there is a 15% GST on all purchases.  We talked to a man visiting from Ireland, who said even London is less expensive.  Fortunately, the US dollar is worth 1.36 NZ dollars.

On the next day, we visited the NZ Maritime Museum, which is a really interesting place focused on NZ’s maritime history, shipbuilding prowess, and immigration, but which also includes displays and examples of the boats sailed by the original NZ mariners, the Maori.  In addition to the museum admission we purchased a harbor ride on the Ted Ashby, a 57’ ketch-rigged deck scow, typical of the sailing ships operated in NZ in the days before motorized ships.  The museum commissioned this ship in 1973.  As a replica, this one has a motor (and a head), not found on the originals.  It is crewed entirely by volunteers.  Also on this day, we went to the observation deck at the top of the Sky Tower, the highest structure in the southern hemisphere.  We understand that some of our shipmates did the bungee jump from the Tower, but have not yet learned who they are.

Our amazing weather luck has continued to hold.  In 49 days of travel we have received 5 minutes of rain while off the ship, and that was in Bora Bora where it was welcome.However, nothing has been as lucky as our time in Auckland.  Cyclone Fehi has been making its way through the South Pacific, and soon after we sailed away, it struck Auckland with heavy rain and high winds, which were compounded by the king tides resulting from the “blue moon”.  Apparently, the city streets running along the harbor where we had been docked were under water and closed to traffic.

Our next port of call was Tauranga, NZ’s largest port.  From there we went on a biking/walking tour of Rotorua, a town with extensive geothermal activity on the shore of Lake Rotorua which is about 40 miles away from our port.  The people here live among the hot springs and hot spots. There were places on the surface of the pavement which recorded temperatures of 170 degrees F.   One of our guides lives above one of the springs and taps into it to fill his sauna (we saw it).  He said the water comes out at 212 degrees F and is cooled to a usable temperature by the addition of cold spring water.  As you might expect, the whole town stinks of sulfur, which also corrodes everything in short order.

On our way to Rototura, our driver gave us a lot of information regarding NZ agriculture, forestry, ecosystems and population, all of which I will spare you.   the resident historian on the ship has also provided a lot of material on these topics.   Please consult Wikipedia.

We departed Tauranga with the goal of arriving in Napier at noon today.  However, the cyclone changed that plan.  Although it was not raining, the wind and sea were high as we approached, and the captain decided that the conditions made it unsafe to enter the narrow channel to the harbor, so we passed it by.  Rumor on the ship is that the weather forecast for Napier predicted 40 mph winds at the time we would have been departing, and this may well have influenced the decision.  In any event, the captain had to make his best call, and we’ll have to visit Napier some other time.

New Zealand provides more natural beauty than we can photograph, but we are trying to capture a representative sample.  Wellington tomorrow and then Christchurch.  More to come.

[la-appel-du-vide]

02•08•20 - SYDNEY

We slept for a fantastically long time last night, and we needed it. Despite getting pretty good sleep on the plane, nothing compares to a good night’s sleep in an actual bed. 

We were both up before 7, which is strange, but jet lag is to blame for that one. We had our Sydney Harbor BridgeClimb scheduled for this morning, so we got up and ready early, so we could eat some breakfast on the way. We found a great little place not too far from our Airbnb, and we are obsessed. I had an omelette, and quickly learned that however they prepare their eggs is WONDERFUL. We also got some beautiful hot chocolates. It’s gonna be our place of this portion of the trip, hahaha. 

We went down to BridgeClimb, and we were starting to feel optimistic because it wasn’t raining!!! The forecast promised us 10 days straight of pouring rain, but there was a little bit of blue in the sky, and there hadn’t been any rain that morning.

We made it to BridgeClimb, and got suited up for the adventure. We had several layers on, and it was starting to get really hot in there as we completed the little simulation of what it would be like - but don’t worry. It didn’t last long. 

They attached a little bag to our side, and told us it was a parachute. I bought that hook, line, and sinker, and was kind of concerned they didn’t teach us how to use it if the situation came around where we’d need one, but heights don’t scare me and I was ready to go. As soon as we stepped onto the bridge, our earlier optimism was completely squashed. THE WIND. We were basically in a cyclone. And it wasn’t too long before the rain started. We could see massive rain clouds coming at us from the distance, and that was not a good feeling. Luckily, the parachute thing had only been a joke, and what was actually in the pouch was a rain jacket! We went to pull them out, but it was such a joke. The wind was blowing them all over, they were inside out, there was so much hair in my eyes, and it took WAY longer than it should have to get them on. But we figured it out eventually, with some teamwork. Then we continued on our way up the bridge. 

It’s unfortunate that the weather was so bad, because this was one of the activities I was most excited for. And it was reallllllly hard to enjoy it when you’re getting thrashed around by the wind, and the rain drops are hitting your face constantly like a drum solo. But we learned some things, climbed the whole bridge, and TRIED to enjoy the 360 degree view from the Summit. I guess the plus side is that not a lot of people can say they climbed the bridge in hurricane weather. It took about three hours overall, and we were very happy that we had been wearing their rain gear during the climb, or we would have been soaked. My feet were the worst though - having wet socks and shoes all day is just about the most uncomfortable thing for me. Ew ew ew mildew.

We got another hot chocolate to help warm us up afterward, and then we went back out into the rain to find a cruise around Sydney harbor. Beach realized she’d left her umbrella at the restaurant that morning, so we had to go buy her second umbrella of the trip hahaha. But then we found a cruise, and we enjoyed a two hour ride with some commentary about Sydney harbor. It’s fun to see the city from the water! Beach did get a little seasick at one point, and ended up spending some time standing outside in the fresh air - despite the rain haha. 

After the cruise, we made our way over to the Sydney Eye tower. We did have to duck into a random tunnel at one point on our journey, because it became a monsoon out of nowhere hahaha. We planned to ride up to the observation deck to get a bird’s eye view of the city. But they guy told us you really couldn’t see much, and that the weather was causing the elevators to move extremely slowly. So we decided we’d save that activity for another day.  

We were starving, and decided on a little Italian place for dinner. It sounded great - but actually, it wasn’t. 

On our way back home, Beach’s umbrella broke hahah. It just couldn’t live up to the massive expectation of surviving through this kind of a storm. Oh, Beach and her umbrellas.

But we were so happy to be back, and out of the rain. Taking off my shoes had never felt so good.

[shirlleycoyle]

The Climate Crisis Isn’t Just Taking Pacific Islanders’ Homes, It’s Taking Our Identities

According to traditional knowledge, in Southeast Asia at the end of the last Ice Age, “fenua imi,” the swallowing of land, forced people to relocate to faraway atolls in a region now called Oceania. About 4,500 years of global stability allowed for the island cultures to develop and thrive in ways specifically tied to the local environment.

Now fenua imi has returned.

Guam, my ancestral land, is one of 38 nations and territories in the Pacific Islands, including Kiribati, West Papua, Fiji, and New Caledonia, where Pasifika people like me have lived for thousands of years. In recent history, our homeland has been divided, colonized, and used as a pawn in U.S. war efforts. Guam’s geographic position and natural deepwater port, Apra Harbor, make it one of the U.S. military’s most strategic bases around the world, so military land seizures have remained constant since World War II.

"Fenua imi," the swallowing of land, has returned to Guam. Drone footage by Lynn Englum, Vanishing Places

It now faces near unlivable conditions because of the climate crisis: Dead arms of staghorn coral are beached; typhoons and super typhoons sweep through more regularly, building on Guam’s position in the most active storm basin in the world; drinking water reservoirs already contaminated with military runoff are becoming depleted as the dry season gets drier. Our subsistence way of life is threatened by nuclear wastewater spills, shifting fishing cycles, and salinated land. Since 1993, sea level surrounding Guam has risen 4 inches and is expected to rise by 3 feet in the next century. Low-lying islands throughout the Pacific could become uninhabitable by 2050.

Super storms sweep through the area more regularly. Photo courtesy of Raimon Kataotao/Humans of Kiribati

Lack of rain and extreme heat have caused some ponds to dry up or have increased the salinity of the water, killing hundreds of milkfish. Photo courtesy of RADIO KIRIBATI News/Humans of Kiribati

But the loss of these islands, atolls, and archipelagos is more than just loss of land: it’s a threat to the political and cultural future of Pasifika communities. It’s why, even in the face of rising seas, the loss of tillable land, pesticide pollution, and a simulated war zone, the island feels impossible to leave.

Already, island nations throughout the Pacific are preparing to leave their homes. In 2014 then Kiribati president Anote Tong purchased a large section of land on an island in Fiji for citizens forced to relocate because of the climate crisis.

During Cyclone Winston in 2016 water went over the seawall and flooded Kumi Village in Fiji, wiping out homes and making the rainwater catch undrinkable. “My fear is that the sea will come in and these sea walls won’t last,” said Kumi Village headman Timoci Ravasakula. “It’s important to be close to the ocean. Our village has always been close to it and we want to continue this.” Photo by Lynn Englum/Vanishing Places

This migration represents a cultural loss. The land our creators made for us, the land that our ancestors are buried in, is disappearing underwater with more and more centimetres of land slipping away every year. Five of the Solomon Islands have been lost since the mid-20th century, and sea level around Palau is rising at a rate three times the global average.

Tong has created a program to “migrate with dignity,” providing Kiribati citizens with tools to relocate legally and find work in an effort to protect their human rights before they become, as they are called colloquially, climate refugees. Citizens of Kiribati “would not be people running away from something,” Tong told VICE News. “They would be migrating, relocating as people with skills as members of communities they go into, even leaders, I hope.”

More and more centimetres of land are slipping away every year. Drone footage of Tarawa, Kiribati by Lynn Englum/Vanishing Places

The United States first occupied Guam at the turn of the 20th century as a result of the Spanish-American War. Besides a brief period during World War II when the island was occupied by Japan, the United States has maintained possession of the territory. By 1950 the CHamoru people, Guam’s native inhabitants, became a minority as the population of the island skyrocketed to nearly one-third United States-born after Guam was used as a forward base for U.S. attacks targeting Japan during World War II.

The military seized 82 percent of the land for military purposes. Gravesites and traditional medicine, thousand-year-old artifacts, and remnants of our family members were parcelled and razed. Those liberated from concentration camps, like my grandmother, were pushed into refugee camps. The land filled with Agent Orange, nuclear waste, and artillery shells. Our ecological future was placed in the hands of the U.S. military, one of the world’s largest global polluters.

Now, a third of Guam is home to military installations. Much of the coverage of climate change on the island has focused on how those changes will damage the bases.

Kiribati like much of Micronesia was part of the WWII Pacific Ocean theatre. Photo by Lynn Englum, Vanishing Places

While vying for environmental protections, the actual nationhood of Pacific Island states is also caught within an international fight for recognition. Guam is one of 17 non-self-governing territories recognized by the United Nations, but it’s in the middle of a plebiscite concerning the island’s status in relation to the United States.

Today, living in Guam can mean that live-fire artillery is one of the first noises a child can expect to hear, even from the womb. It can mean that our elders die at young ages and our aunties and uncles struggle with the illnesses that come from the fallout of nuclear testing. It can mean undrinkable water thanks to the runoff from the Air Force base above the aquifer.

A ship that washed ashore in Tarawa during Cyclone Pam in 2015, surrounded by sandbags in August as residents prepared for the highest tide this year. Photo courtesy of Humans of Kiribati

But leaving Guam means saying goodbye to the only home most of my family has ever known. Leaving Guam, in managed retreat or otherwise, can feel like admitting defeat in a 500-year fight for self-determination.

I moved to Washington D.C. this year to work on supporting Indigenous resistance movements while combating the climate crisis. I tell myself that living away from Guam—and outside the Pacific entirely—is a sacrifice I made to ensure there’s a safe environment to return to. But, I question that belief. Diaspora islanders like myself can grow up watching the rest of our family become strangers in our island with the influx of service members, while growing more isolated from those of us who have left for higher land.

Leilani Rania Ganser’s grandfather on Guam, 1978. Photo provided by author

War and the military incursions exacerbate the climate crisis, and the climate crisis worsens our humanitarian needs. This destructive cycle also regulates the immigration of soldiers to island bases in Micronesia, which itself has accelerated the environmental degradation of land Indigenous Pasifika have relied on for centuries for sustenance. This degradation then pushes Pasifika out of our islands and works to silence the sovereignty movements grounded in our ecologically minded cultures.

This makes managed retreat a question of Indigenous sovereignty or, put another way, makes Indigenous sovereignty a form of climate action. It underscores the necessity of listening to the Indigenous population of a region of the climate crisis and gives context to the global challenges Indigenous climate defenders face.

Leilani Rania Ganser is a Kānaka Maoli and CHamoru writer, activist, and survivor. Her bylines appear in In These Times, Foreign Policy In Focus, Korean Policy Institute, and more. Follow her on Twitter.

Humans of Kiribati shares stories about Kiribati and the people living on the front lines of the climate crisis. Like them on Facebook.

Lynn Englum has been writing on climate change and resilience issues for more than a decade. For the past year, she’s been travelling to places deeply affected by climate change. Follow her journey on Instagram.

Have a story for Tipping Point? Email TippingPoint@vice.com

The Climate Crisis Isn’t Just Taking Pacific Islanders’ Homes, It’s Taking Our Identities syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[newstfionline]

Headlines

After George Floyd’s Death, Toll Rises in Protests Across the Country (NYT) Scores of American cities were on edge on Monday night as protesters faced off with the police for a seventh straight night since the death of George Floyd at the hands of the Minneapolis police. Curfews were ordered in New York City and throughout the country in an effort to stem the toll of deaths, injuries and vandalism that have accompanied demonstrations that grew violent. The clashes have echoed in the streets of at least 140 cities, and at least five people had died as the country entered another long night. An untold number more, including protesters and police officers, have been injured. Thousands of people have been arrested and fires, looting and vandalism have caused millions of dollars in damage to buildings and businesses. Amid demonstrations from the beach communities of California to the park right outside the White House, President Trump warned on Monday that he would order the military into American cities if officials could not get their streets under control. The growing toll came as a curfew was set starting at 11 p.m. in New York City—only the latest of dozens of cities, including Los Angeles, Chicago and Minneapolis, to order people to stay home as clashes have escalated. Nearly 20,000 members of the National Guard have been called up in 23 states.

The tear-gassing of Lafayette Square has now caused a diplomatic rift with Australia (The Week) People in China, where reporting on even small anti-government protests is censored, are getting full coverage of U.S. protesters and journalists being beaten and gassed by U.S. police, blinded by rubber bullets, and arrested in what looks like war zones. “Freedom is dead” in the U.S., Chinese wrote on social media, BBC News reports. “The U.S. police has lost all humanity.” European Union foreign policy chief Josep Borrell said “like the people of the United States, we are shocked and appalled by the death of George Floyd,” adding that Europeans “support the right to peaceful protest” and “call for a de-escalation of tensions.” Australians, meanwhile, watched a widely broadcast clip of 7NEWS reporter Amelia Brace and cameraman Tim Myers being clubbed, punched in the face, and battered by federal police clearing Lafayette Square of protesters so President Trump could walk to a church and hold up a Bible for the cameras. Australian Foreign Minister Marise Payne expressed “strong concerns” about the assault on the Australian journalists. “We have asked the Australian embassy in Washington, D.C., to investigate this incident,” Payne said Tuesday. “I want to get further advice on how we would go about registering Australia’s strong concerns with the responsible local authorities in Washington,” suggesting a formal complaint will follow.

Brooms in hand, people patch up stores damaged in protests (AP) Carrying brooms, shovels, trash bags and cans of paint, thousands of people from Los Angeles to New York swept up glass from broken store windows, covered over graffiti and organized ransacked businesses Monday after protests over police killings of black people turned destructive once again. Bill Stuehler donned a mask Sunday and marched with a fellow nurse and other activists in Los Angeles, later trying to stop young people from breaking into stores and stealing. At home, he kept watching the violence on live feeds and fell deeper into despair. So before sunrise, the 66-year-old grabbed brooms, a rake and a trash shovel and drove to nearby Long Beach to clean up the mess. Soon, more than 2,000 people were working side by side, scrubbing, filling trash containers and repairing what they could in the hard-hit city south of Los Angeles. “It was pretty amazing to see the number of people turn out for the community,” Stuehler said. “It restored the faith in humanity that I had lost last night.” Throngs of people nationwide volunteered to help businesses—from small shops to major chains—bounce back from the damage, though some stores had burned to the ground and another night of unrest was expected.

Running into trouble: Eager pandemic exercisers rack up injuries (Washington Post) For people faced with more free time but fewer athletic options, overuse injuries are the painful flip side to the noble pursuit of “quarantoning” as getting toned during quarantine is known. Medical professionals and a footwear retailer on the receiving end of those distress calls say eager exercisers often overestimate how much of a new activity their musculoskeletal systems can handle. And they might do it again when they return to their gyms and studios after weeks or months away, expecting to be at the same level they were in March. Health-care professionals say they are seeing more injuries from bad home-office setups than from bad fitness forays, but physical therapists in particular say they are seeing both—and occasionally some creative person will combine the two. Kelly Roberts Lane, a physical therapist in Mahtomedi, Minn., said she is hearing from many office workers who wanted to take advantage of the unexpected downtime to get in shape but then went too hard too fast. “We’re going from sedentary at work to a ton of movement because we can,” Lane said, “and we’re just not conditioned for it yet.”

‘A national disgrace’: 40,600 deaths tied to U.S. nursing homes (USA Today) Over the last three months, more than 40,600 long-term care residents and workers have died of COVID-19—about 40% of the nation’s death toll attributed to the coronavirus, according to an analysis of state data gathered by USA TODAY. That number eclipses a count released Monday by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS), the federal government’s first attempt at a comprehensive tally. CMS said 25,923 residents had died, but its number only includes federally regulated nursing homes, not assisted living facilities. Even USA TODAY’s larger total—which amounts to roughly 450 COVID-19 elder care facility deaths per day—is an undercount. Seven states did not provide the number of deaths in long-term care. And New York, the state with the most resident deaths, doesn’t include those who had been transferred to hospitals in its count of long-term care fatalities.

Mexico begins lifting lockdown (NYT) Mexico on Monday lifted a 70-day coronavirus lockdown, but the federal and local governments replaced it with a contradictory patchwork of measures as the country struggled to contain the outbreak. The nation’s coronavirus czar, Hugo López-Gatell, took a hard line, saying that federal guidelines on opening businesses would barely budge. But several governors defied the federal government’s orders, allowing shops and hotels in their states to open at least partially.

U.K. and EU plan crunch talks (Foreign Policy) British Prime Minister Boris Johnson and European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen are headed for talks this month aimed at resolving post-Brexit trade negotiations between the two sides, the Financial Times reports. It comes as the deadline for the United Kingdom to request a two-year extension approaches at the end of June. Johnson has remained adamant that the U.K. must conclude a deal before Dec. 31, but trade negotiations have recently been bogged down—first because of coronavirus-related delays and now due to disagreements over fisheries and a common regulatory framework.

Indian metropolis of Mumbai braces for rare cyclone (AP) A cyclone in the Arabian Sea is barreling toward India’s business capital Mumbai, threatening to deliver high winds and flooding to an area already struggling with the nation’s highest number of coronavirus infections and deaths.

Poor countries, skyrocketing debt (NYT) The low interest rates of the past decade led to an unlikely alliance between poor countries and international investors. Governments, state-owned companies and other businesses were able to raise money relatively cheaply to finance their growth, while investors searching for better returns than they were getting at home gobbled up that debt. As a result, developing countries owe record amounts of money to investors, governments and others outside their borders: $2.1 trillion for countries ranked as “low income” and “lower-middle income” by the World Bank, including Afghanistan, Chad, Bolivia and Zimbabwe. Now, the pandemic is fraying that alliance. Economic activity has ground to a halt​. ​Governments are on the hook for billions of dollars in interest and principal repayments—payments suddenly made more expensive by volatility in the currency markets at the same time that public health costs are skyrocketing. And their investors are not in a forgiving mood. “This is really unlike anything we have seen,” said Mitu Gulati, a law professor at Duke University who studies the debts of countries, or sovereign debt. “The last time we had this many countries likely to go under at the same time was in the 1980s.” In Latin America, that period was known as La Década Perdida—The Lost Decade.​

Hong Kong leader calls out ‘double standards’ on national security, points to U.S. (Reuters) Hong Kong leader Carrie Lam accused foreign governments on Tuesday of “double standards” in their reaction to Beijing’s plans to impose national security laws on the city, pointing to anti-police brutality protests in the United States. In her first public appearance after Washington said it will remove Hong Kong’s preferential treatment in U.S. law in response to Beijing’s plans, Lam warned countries threatening actions against the city that they may hurt their own interests. “They are very concerned about their own national security, but on our national security...they look through tinted glasses,” Lam told a weekly news conference. “In the U.S., we see how the riots were being handled by the local governments, compared to the stance they adopted when almost the same riots happened in Hong Kong last year.”

Schools reopen as Singapore eases lockdown restrictions (Reuters) With temperatures checked, masks fitted, and hand sanitizers at the ready, many Singapore children returned to school on Tuesday after a novel coronavirus lockdown of nearly two months. With one of the highest coronavirus tallies in Asia, Singapore has said it will ease restrictions gradually, with the registry of marriages and some businesses, including pet salons, also reopening on Tuesday.

Ebola in Congo (NYT) Congo’s health minister confirmed the discovery of a new Ebola case in the country’s Équateur province, which last saw an outbreak of the highly deadly virus in 2018, ultimately killing 33 people there. The new outbreak in Équateur would be Congo’s 11th since the virus was first identified in 1976. Experimental vaccines have proved effective in preventing the spread of Ebola, but no cure has been found.

[sunsetsafaris]

The Ultimate Tour Package Including Both Fraser Island and Great Barrier Reef

Life can be too hectic. After a tiring day when we swipe down our social media we see our batch mates and our idols spending a good life in a beautiful island. We think of having the same life and to spend few days relaxing and enjoying our life and we don’t understand where we went wrong to have such a life. Stop cursing yourself, Sunset safaris the top tourist company in Australia brings you a complete package of mind-blowing activities and heart stirring places in one tour package. This is the ultimate tour package where you get to visit both Great Barrier Reef and Fraser islands, the two most famous gems of Queensland. Are you thinking of a long break? Then this package is for you, where you spend 2 days on the world’s largest living structure and other 3 days in the paradise island i.e. Fraser Island. 

NOTE: The Fraser Island and Great Barrier Reef Holiday Package Tours may be swapped around to suit your preferred tour departure date.

Sunset safaris brings you this package in a very affordable price. Get free activities which includes one night stay at rainbow beach, free Cooloola National park access, accommodation upgrade at Fraser Island and Great Barrier Reef, with an adventurous ride to transfer you from Fraser Island to Great Barrier Reef. These 5 days tour is going to be one of the best moments in your life.

FRASER ISLAND 3 DAYS TOUR:

Fraser Island is the one of its kind has its unique features and beauty. Heart stealing nature, clean perched water bodies, peaceful atmosphere and clean air to breath. The world largest Sand Island and world best stress breaking holiday spot. Most famous and visited places in Fraser island which are included in this holiday package: • Indian head- Best spot to encounter dolphins, turtles, sharks, fish, and one of the largest whale breeds- the Humpback whale. • Eli creek- A perfect photogenic destination in Fraser island with green tress, clear blue water with a board walk along the bank. Get a chance to swim in the sand filtered water on the beach. • Maheno ship wreck- This site is the top photo shoot destination of many famous faces. Witness the tragic site of the cyclone in 1935. • Fraser island rainforest- The unusual rainforest which stands on the sandy island has always attracted tourists. Take a walk in this creation of almighty in pile valley where you will also discover Woongoolba creek and giant satiney trees. • The colored sands- Colored sand is not something you usually see. Apart from everything else, this is the place which is unique and beautiful. And let you take a perfect click. Stop to witness the colorful rainbow beach. Capture this once in a life time moment in your camera.

GREAT BARRIER REEF

After visiting the world’s largest sand island, now get ready to visit world’s largest living structure, the Great Barrier Reef. November to March you will encounter wild turtles laying egg and during February hatching of eggs can be seen at MON REPOS (turtle conservation center). Get a chance to see one of the endangered and rare species of turtles like loggerhead turtle. While from April to October you will get to know about the process of conservation and life cycle of turtles. From June to November, it is the whale sighting season, when whales annual migration takes place i.e. humpback and minke whales - one of the largest and friendly whale species migrate to this area.

Seeing animals from a distance is not the only thing you are going do. Sunset Safaris let you feed and cuddle them. You can hand feed coral fishes and kangaroos. You can also encounter dolphins, feeding of crocodiles and can even get chance to cuddle a koala. 

After time spent with animals, Sunset Safaris give you a exciting ride to the astonishing Lady Musgrave Island and lagoon. Great Barrier Reef not only have exotic marine life and animals, it also has a vast variety of birds. You can have a great time spotting birds at forest of pisonia trees. 

Activities are also included in this package such as scuba diving, transparent kayaking and snorkeling, so that you can get a better view of marine creature and beauty of Australia’s best holiday destinations. Besides there are other activities, which are not included in the package can be enjoyed with some extra charges.

This package is designed for all ages and fitness levels. From couples, families, friends, all can take advantage of this package. And if you are alone don’t worry; Sunset Safaris fun loving guides will not let you feel like a loner. These are just a glimpse of your tour. Visit the tour company’s official site to check the pricing and schedule. 

For more details about  Great Barrier Reef Packages  just move on www.sunsetsafari.com.au