Errant AirTag Nearing South America
I love that as I age, I am learning skills I never dreamed I would have – or want! And yet, I am glad I have learned to live with mystery, with contradictions, with ambiguity and ambivalence.
I don’t know how my AirTag left my “backpack,” which is really my duffle. I know it happened in Barcelona. Maybe I dropped it? The duffle was taken from my room with my carry-on and taken to the port where it went through inspection all on its own. It then appeared miraculously in my room aboard the Nautica. I say miraculously, because I never take anything for granted. Yes, it was supposed to show up in my room.
No, I am not so trusting as to believe it will. I’ve been without baggage too many times. So, I am just thankful when things happen as promised, and I have clothing and shoes for the trip.
I’m so glad that it really doesn’t matter to me that much that the AirTag didn’t make it with me. Its purpose is to keep track of my bag, and as long as I have the bag, the important things are covered.
What a shock it was when I was in Montreal, checking on my carry-on, which had become a checked bag in Abu Dhabi, and discovered my AirTag from the duffle is still reporting to me. It made me laugh. And now, trip over, back to the routine life of Pensacola and the unsettled month of December, it gives me a small thrill every day that I check for its location and find it in a new spot.
I am living vicariously. Although I am not in motion (nomad that I am), a part connected to me is heading off into the unknown.
The Grapevine, TX location is a mystery. I’m inclined to think it is an anomaly of some kind, but I have no clue, truly, as to why I would have a brief report it was there, and then, a short while later, it is back on the ship. The mystery continues.
Air Tag Finds a New Home in . . . Grapevine, TX ???
For a while, there was no report available on my nomadic Air Tag. I am guessing it got on a plane or – I don’t know what, because from the middle of the Atlantic, it suddenly shows up in Grapevine, Texas.
I wonder if it will travel again, or if it will settle down for the holidays and then travel? Or will it return to roaming?
I hope no one figures out how to re-program the Air Tag. I’m having to much fun checking in on it.
My Backpack Visits The Great Meteor Seamount
My little Air Tag reminds me of my days in the State Department. A friend would talk of “singing for our supper,” by which he meant our obligation to be entertaining and have a story or two to tell so people would always be glad they invited us.
My Air Tag, emancipated as it became, is certainly entertaining me, and, I hope, you. Do you have any clue what The Great Meteor Seamount is? I assumed it was the site of a fallen meteor, and evidently a huge one. Wrong. It is a sea mountain, yes, but one discovered by people on a ship called Meteor. Here is more information for you, if you, like me, like to go down a rabbit hole or two.
This is from Wickipedia:
Great Meteor Seamount
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| Great Meteor Seamount | |
|---|---|
| Great Meteor Seamount at the southern edge of the Atlantis-Meteor Seamount Complex | |
| Summit depth | 270 m (890 ft) |
| Height | 4,500 m (14,800 ft) |
| Summit area | 50×28 km² (1465 km²)[1] |
| Location | |
| Location | North Atlantic Ocean, 1,000 km (620 mi) south of the Azores |
| Coordinates |  29°57′10.6″N 28°35′31.3″WCoordinates: 29°57′10.6″N 28°35′31.3″W |
| Geology | |
| Type | Guyot |
| Volcanic arc/chain | Seewarte Seamounts |
| History | |
| Discovery date | 1938 |
| Discovered by | Meteor |
| Wikimedia | © OpenStreetMap | |
The Great Meteor Seamount, also called the Great Meteor Tablemount, is a guyot and the largest seamount in the North Atlantic with a volume of 24,000 km3 (5,800 cu mi). It is one of the Seewarte Seamounts, rooted on a large terrace located south of the Azores Plateau. The crust underlying Great Meteor has an age of 85 million years, deduced from the magnetic anomaly 34 (An34) at this location.[2]
The shallow and flat summit of the Great Meteor Seamount, ranging between 150 and 300 m (490 and 980 ft) below sea level, suggests that it may have emerged sometime in the past 30 million years.[3] It is covered by a 150 to 600 m (490 to 1,970 ft) thick layer of limestone, pyroclastic rocks and bioclastic sandstones.[4] Dredged basalts from the top of the eastern and southeastern flanks of the seamount have been K–Ar dated 10.7 ± 0.5 and 16.3 ± 0.4 million years old, respectively.[5] The oldest sample has been 40Ar/39Ar dated at 17 ± 0.3 million years old.[6]
Two small seamounts exist just southwest of Great Meteor and are encircled by the −3800 m bathymetric line. These are the Closs Seamount, roughly oriented NNE-SSW, with its peak at 1,400 m (4,600 ft) depth and covering an area of approximately 390 km2 (150 sq mi), and the Little Meteor Seamount, located NNE of Closs, with over 960 km2 (370 sq mi) and a flat top 400 m (1,300 ft) below sea level.
The German research vessel Meteor discovered the tablemount between 1925 and 1927. It was given the name Great Meteor Bank, a designation still used in the official GEBCO gazetteer.
Formation[edit]
The New England hotspot formed the White Mountains 124 to 100 million years ago when the North American continent was directly overhead. As the continent drifted to the west, the hotspot gradually moved offshore. On a southeasterly course, the hotspot formed Bear Seamount, the oldest in the chain, about 100 to 103 million years ago. Over the course of millions of years, it continued creating the rest of the seamounts, eventually culminating in the Nashville Seamount about 83 million years ago. As the Atlantic Ocean continued to spread, the hotspot eventually traveled further east, forming the Great Meteor Seamount where it is found today.[7] Radiometric dating of basalt from the Great Meteor Seamount has given ages of about 11 and 16 million years old, with the bulk of the seamount possibly having formed about 22 million years ago.[8]
At Sea on the Costa Pacifica
Who knew I could have so much fun with a missing Air Tag? By figuring out which ships were in which ports on the same days, and eliminating, one by one, those going in different directions, I identified the Costa Pacifica as the ship my little Air Tag is on. I am guessing it will always be a mystery as to how it got from my backpack to the Costa Pacifica, but meanwhile, it is so much fun for me to track where it is traveling – independent of me!
Living Large off the Coast of Morocco
Although I am back in Pensacola, I get a thrill checking on the status of my missing Air Tag. Today we are off the coast of Morocco 🙂
My AirTag Has a Life of Its Own
For our recent trip, I bought four Apple AirTags and was amazed at how easy it was to use them. You just Google “How do I set up my Apple Air Tag?” and clear instructions appear. Some people have even done videos that show you exactly how to enable and disable your Air Tags.
So I set one up to be for my Carry-on, and another to use for my other carry-on, called Backpack, except that as I was packing I changed to a duffel, and didn’t change the name.
My duffel has four outside pockets and no inside pockets. I tucked the AirTag deep into one of the pockets and stopped thinking about it. Then it came time to leave our hotel and head for the ship, so I put both bags out to be transferred.
Since I pretty much always had them with me, I never bothered checking. Not until coming back, I checked one bag on our complicated route home, and when things got screwed up in Montreal, I checked my phone to find my CarryOn. It showed me exactly where it was, and it made the next flight with me.
But at the same time I was checking, I noticed an anomaly. My “backpack,” which was with me, was shown to be in the Gulf of Lion, close to Montpellier. How could this be? Sure enough, I have the duffel, but I do not have the AirTag. The AirTag is gone missing.
But someone has it.
Honestly, to me this is hilarious. First – I have all my baggage and its contents. That’s what matters. The only thing that is missing is the AirTag. Second – my AirTag is traveling, I am thinking on one of the Oceania ships, and I could probably find out which one if I wanted to spend the time finding out which ship is in what spot (there are apps, I have discovered, which can tell you – and show you – exactly where any ship is, how cool is that?) Meanwhile, every now and then I check to see where my old AirTag is now, and it is always in a different location. It’s kind of fun for me to see where it is.
Why would someone carry around someone else’s AirTag?
Yes, I am planning to tell you all about our trip. First, I have to get through the jet lag, get my life in order, get Christmas under control (ho ho ho), and process some of what I experienced. Narrative and photos coming soon. It was a GREAT adventure. 🙂
“Has Your Wardrobe Changed?”
I was on my hands and knees, sandwiching two new quilts when AdventureMan seated himself near me and asked if he should take his grey-green pants on the upcoming trip. With all the baggage insecurity going around, we’ve made a decision to take a carry-on bag and one personal item, and skip checked luggage altogether.
Being the kind of person who used to over-study for tests, this is causing me some anxiety. I told him that the pants did not coordinate with enough of his wardrobe to make them useful, to stick with the tried-and-true khakis which used to be his staple, and his blue jeans, which will get him through some of the more rugged places.
More than once, we’ve had luggage go missing. It always caught up with us, but once – in Lusaka, we were headed out into the bush the next day and had only our traveling clothes and night clothes – and, thank God, some shoes. We grabbed a taxi and found a street mall with a combination grocery and department store, stocked with camo and green clothing from China which was more or less apropos. We couldn’t be choosy, and we were thankful to find something that would get us through until, we hoped, our baggage showed up. I still love the thick green socks I found; they have worn like iron.
But this is different, this is not the bush, it is a lengthy cruise, and I am trying to pack enough cool-weather clothing for cooler places, warm-weather clothing for places that are pretty hot even when they have cooled off, and clothes for dining in specialty restaurants with a dress code. I need clothes which will be modest. I need something for just hanging around. I’ve saved old swimsuits I can wear and leave behind, so that’s one thing solved.
“We’ve never lived in one place this long, ever,” AdventureMan continued, “and I have clothes I never wear anymore, things that have just become irrelevant. I keep thinking I need to get rid of more, like the pleated pants and the dress shirts, but it’s hard, I wonder if I might need them. Does that happen with you?”
I pause in my pinning and laugh. I have one dress in three different colors, another dress in two colors, and two jean skirts. I have a winter hooded dress in five colors. I am not a big shopper, so when I find something that works, I go with multiples.
Meanwhile, yes, AdventureMan, I have that other closet full, like you, with just-in-case clothes. I still have what is left of my evening dresses. I have clothing for in case I have a business meeting, or a funeral, things maybe I’ve worn once or twice since moving here. I have the odd specialty pieces, like Christmas clothing. When will I be ready to part with my cold-weather clothing, so beautiful and once so expensive?
I laugh and tell him all the above, and then tell him that of all the clothes I wear, I still have the clothes which were made for me in Qatar and Kuwait, copies of one particular Coldwater Creek linen dress which I had copied in both linen and cotton. I have three left. I’ve been wearing them for fifteen years, and they still look like new.
“I’ve taken them in,” I tell him because I’m smaller than I was when I was relatively sedentary in Kuwait. “And I’ve taken the hems up at least twice as I’ve gotten more used to being back in America. People tell me I look nice – they used to ask me if I was a missionary wife,” I added, and we both laughed. When you live in a different culture for a while, you become adapted to local ways. I remember how disconcerting it was in summers coming back to the USA and finding all the women shockingly and scantily dressed in their sleeveless dresses and shorts and T-shirts, even respectable women and I knew the change was in me and my perceptions, not in my culture.
I am thinking the backpack will be my Godsend. I am hoping I still have the strength and energy to run through Charles de Gaulle airport with the backpack on my back, lifting the carry-on if we need to run up or down stairs. I am thinking I can strap the backpack onto the carry-on handle in the straight places. I am thinking whatever I take will be enough; I am hoping it might even be a matter of discovering I have overpacked a little less than before.
It’s a curious mentality you develop when you’re nomadic. You become aware of so many possibilities, things that can go wrong, and things you might need, so you are always thinking “just in case.”
We have a backup plan. We know there is a Carrefour (large French supermarket) in walking distance to our hotel, so we can stock up on things we don’t have room to pack, or which we can’t carry on-board an airplane – manicure scissors, needles, sun protection, and some good bottles of dry red wine for our cabin. My list gives me a small illusion of control.
I take a deep breath and remind myself that this is our get-away, our escape, and that anxiety is counter-productive. We will be fine. Enough is enough, it will be a grand adventure.
Living off My Fat: Adaptation
It probably all started growing up in Alaska, where my mother would measure us in July to order our snowsuits as soon as the new catalogs came out. We lived where ships didn’t come in the winter, so supplies for the winter needed to be ordered – and received – before the ships could no longer navigate the channel.
Then came our life in Germany, where we lived by what my sister called “Commissary rules.” Her one word of advice as a newlywed leaving Germany, while I was staying, was “When you see something in the Commissary or PX you think you MIGHT need, buy it.” Definitely a no-regrets philosophy.
When we were sent to live in Tunisia, in the late 1970’s, we were instructed to take everything we might need for the next two years. Some things – chocolate chips – we learned to live without. We adapted to new foods, new ways of doing things. One of the great treats was the fresh, gorgeous, silky olive oil; I would take my jar to the little olive oil vendor at the nearby souk and he would weigh my jar, fill it, subtract the weight of the jar and charge me for the oil, which made everything taste French.
I did have a two-year supply of shoes for a growing toddler, also clothing for him in graduated sizes, and two years of age-appropriate books I could pull out of the closet. We were able to mail-order through the embassy pouch, and my mother was able to mail me little extras. One year, when I was running the Christmas bazaar, she was able to find red and green Christmas fabrics in July, at a discount, and mail them to us for our crafting. It was such a luxury!
In Qatar, I was always bringing back duffels with quilting rulers and rotary cutters for my quilting friends. In Kuwait, it was books for my book club and American sugar for a friend who liked to bake. Kuwait had sugar, but more coarse, and American sugar melts more quickly for a finer result. Who knew?
There are items from the past I still have in abundance – dental floss, women’s underwear, shoes – and staples I buy but no longer use in the quantities I once did because we no longer live a life where we entertain a lot nor prepare for unexpected people on temporary duty who need a meal and an exchange of currency. I am trying to bring down my supplies of artichoke hearts and pimentos, beans and rice, canned tomatoes, chutney, Tupperware and hand soap.
My Little Free Library, one of the best birthday gifts ever, helps me keep my books from overflowing.
We are happy, these days, to be living with less. We are still caught by surprise by rolls of baking parchment we are still using from Kuwait, dental floss leftover from our years in Tunis and an excess of Christmas decorations we still need to pare down. We try to go easy on ourselves. “Ah,” we sigh, “it’s a process.” God grant that we live long enough to use up all those supplies we bought “just in case.”
Chasing Petroglyphs: Breckenridge, 2 Perspectives
We love The Lodge at Breckenridge, and we love the beautiful room overlooking the valley where Spring is clearly coming.
We decide to dine at the Lodge restaurant. We have a wedding anniversary coming up in June and we might as well start celebrating now 🙂
We share a charcuterie board to start.
I have the Caesar salad for my main course – and I am delighted when it arrives with a real anchovy on top. I haven’t seen an anchovy on a Caesar salad since Doha.
AdventureMan has the Elk Tenderloin, and generously shares a slice or two with me – it is delicious.
I’m pretty sure we shared a dessert, too, but I can’t remember. I had a local port, AdventureMan had a Bordeaux and we floated to our room.
The next morning, we slept in a little – and awoke to five inches of snow. We could hear other doors onto balconies opening and people saying “Snow!”
We got through the mountain pass, and safely into Colorado Springs where we had a wonderful visit with my youngest sister and her husband in their mountain eyrie. We watched episodes of Joe Pickett (we didn’t even know the series, however short-lived, existed) and then they introduced us to Longmire. Her husband played some blues and boogie for us, and we all belted out “The Train They Call the City of New Orleans.” It was a great visit.
Chasing Petroglyphs: Our Last Day in Moab
Today is a day purely for leisure and having fun; we head into Moab for the Moab Arts Fest. It is very family-oriented, with games and entertainment and food, and booths with hand crafted items. I find a fiber artist and a great gift for my sister, a spidery light bright red wrap with silk fibres pressed into it. It is stunning. I can easily imagine it on my stylish sister.
We decide to have lunch at Singha Thai because we so thoroughly enjoyed their food our first night in Moab. This food was equally impressive.
So much food, the veggies crisp-cooked and delicious! AdventureMan had the basil chicken with lots of broccoli, and I had the ginger chicken, more sweet red peppers and spring onions. We couldn’t begin to eat it all, so we packed it up and had it on our Trail’s End veranda for our own sunset dinner.
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