The first recorded circumnavigation of the world was completed by Magellan’s fleet in 1522. The Portuguese explorer’s trip ended in a bloody beach battle in the Philippines. Of the five ships and 237 men only 18 survived this epic journey thank to the captaincy of Juan Sebastián Elcano. His name is forgotten by the masses, who have mostly forgotten Magellan too, however the spices in the hold of the Navidad reaped a fortune for the investors and world-wide travel was established to conduct trade between the far-flung nations of the world.

Ships from New England crisscrossed the globe for centuries. My great-grand-aunt Bert sailed in her father’s clipper ship to exotic ports in the Orient. Her house in Falmouth Foresides was crowded with mementos from China, India, Hawaii, and Japan. She lived to be 103. At her 100th birthday she told me with a voice dusted by time, “Siam was the most beautiful place I ever went, but the women there all had black teeth from chewing betel nut.”

No one else the next two generation accomplish this feat, although my Uncle Russ invaded Japan, Uncle Dave fought in the naval battles off Biak, and my Uncle Jack fought his way out of Korea’s Chosin reservoir. Two Christmases ago he told my cousin and me about shooting hundreds of Chinese and losing dozens of friends.

“I never had any interest in ever going back to that continent.” The 80 year-old ex-Marine Lieutenant wiped away several tears from his eyes and lifted a glass of Irish whiskey. We toasted his bravery and he put down his drink. “Took our ship almost a month to reach Japan. How long is the flight now?”

“About 22 to 25 hours.” I have tried every variant of the trip over the last 20 years. Five times circling the earth thanks to my travel agent.

Over the pole. East to West. West to East. There’s nothing short about the flights.

“Although Thai Airway used to have a 17 hour non-stop ticket from JFK to Bangkok.” My legs were swollen from the high-altitude pressure and I hobbled from the 747 like a broken-down horse.

“I can stand being on a plane for a minute.” Uncle Jack’s wife, my aunt, hated flying. They were very well-off, but during their 70s they only traveled by bus.

“I have no choice.” My children live over in Thailand. A sea voyage would take months and Manny, my boss on the diamond exchange on 47th Street, doesn’t permit me the luxury of long vacation. At 83 he needs as much help as possible, but understands the call of family having raised four children of his own.

Upon his return from a two-week holiday in the holy city of Miami Beach, Manny looked at the calendar and said, “Go see your kids. Leave on the next flight and come back before the show in Florida.”

His son Richie Boy was traveling south for a trade show. I usually organized the packing of the jewelry. There was no way of asking for a few extra days, so I planned an early departure and called PanExpress Travel to book a flight. Every flight on the better airlines were sold-out, leaving only China Air and Korean Air.

The first had the worst in-flight food on ancient 747s. My last trip with Korean Air wasn’t much better. A horror show 747 out of the 60s, however Sonny, the travel agent, said, “Korean Air much better now. Fly new 777s and have new airport. Only $1205 and the flight leaves tomorrow.”

“Make it a green light.” I thought Sonny might be lying. I had no choice. “Korean Air.”

I called Mem with the news. We hadn’t seen each other in 6 weeks. She was unhappy with her living situation. Her aunt was calling Fenway, my son, a bad boy and my wishes for him to be a superstar would be shattered by such negativism.

“We’re moving house as soon as I land.”

These words made Mem happy. Nothing she loves more than her three kids. I rank a good #4.

That night I drank beer at Franks and in the morning headed out to JFK on the A train. I passed through the TSA security without a problem and walked to the gate fearing the worst. Something was wrong with the plane. It wasn’t a hump=backed 747. Our sky-cruiser was a new Super 777. It had decent food, good seats, pretty stewardesses, scads of entertainment.

Even better was Inchon Airport.

Brand new.

A 2 hour lay-over.

Then another 777 to Bangkok.

28 hours door to door.

Fenway was asleep on the bed.

Mem kissed me once.

I joined them in dreamland, content to know that I beat Magellan’s time by three years and congratulated myself on finding a new route to the Orient. My name won’t appear any history books, then again no one remembers Juan Sebastián Elcano.

At least no one I know.