One of the performers on board the ship was a “mentalist” by
the name of Brent Webb. I wasn’t too excited about going to see him but our
friends inveigled us into going and then, against our better judgment, to
sitting in the third row—nobody sat in the front row (they know better) and
only one couple was in the second row. Sure enough, about halfway through the
performance Brent picked on me to come up on stage to participate in his act.
He is actually pretty good and very entertaining—which is all he purports to
be, an entertainer; he didn’t try to convince us he could actually read minds.
He did a couple of tricks with me but the memorable one was asking me to think
of a place that I like to be and a person to take with me who wasn’t on the
cruise with me and to tell him and everybody. I thought of our cabin (which
provoked a laugh until they realized I didn’t mean our cabin on the ship) as
the place I like to go and our daughter Katherine as the person I would take
with me. He thanked me for participating and pointed across the stage to a
table where there was a gold bag with Godiva chocolates that was my gift. There
was a tiny envelope stuck to the bag, I opened it and it said:
Obviously it was some sleight of hand, but it was so well
done that nobody could remember his going anywhere near the table. At another
point he asked me to think of someone well known, not necessarily really famous
(but they could be) but not so unknown that nobody would recognize the name (I
thought of Clint Eastwood). He said, “is the person in the film industry?” and
then said, “Clint Eastwood.” I have no idea how he did THAT since I never said anything but “yes.”
Just in case you think we have a dull life onboard, there
are, unfortunately, few interesting moments. Two afternoons ago we had to have
a helicopter transfer of two patients from the ship. The US Coast Guard sent
two helicopters to get the two critically ill passengers and fly them to a
hospital in San Juan. Most of the back end of our ship was closed and
passengers evacuated from their cabins but not, for some reason, the suites so
we had an up-close and personal view of the helicopters coming in. We couldn’t
see the actual transfer as that took place about three decks above us but we
sure could hear them! The helicopters never landed, just hovered for the
transfer. It had to be extremely serious for them to do this as we were only 12
hours from St. Thomas and the ship is not made for helicopters to be flying
about her. Additionally they did it just before dark and dark comes very, very
quickly in the tropics. Half an hour after the second helicopter left, it was
dark!
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| Another view from our cabin |
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| This C-130 flew cover for the helicopters the whole time, just circling the ship. |
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| Getting ready to recover the patient |
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| One of the paramedics coming down to the ship |
Other than that, however, our lives onboard are pretty dull
relaxing. We have lectures about the upcoming ports, some very entertaining and
others, well, let’s just say there is often the sound of soft snoring coming
from around the audience. And now that we’re in the Caribbean, we have a “shopping
specialist” on board who tells us all the best stores to go to for diamonds and
emeralds and crystal and tanzanite (we’ve been cruising since 1991 and early on
we were told that we should buy tanzanite because there was only one mine and
it was going to run out “soon;” it obviously hasn’t run out yet!) and where to
go to get freebies (always a popular topic!). Then there are the games (the
bridge lessons are a bit too beginner for us to enjoy) like Carpet Boules and
Trivia (fights have broken out over trivia) and various other activities like
get-togethers for like-minded folk
(singles, Americans, GLBT, aviation enthusiasts, teachers, etc etc etc) and
presentations on finance and cooking and space. There are classes on beading
and pottery—they actually have a kiln on board—and mah jong and other things.
The cooking demos are good but not anywhere near as good as they were in the
dedicated kitchen on the Holland America ships. Here they just set up the Vista
Lounge with all the accoutrements that the chef needs to demo his cooking.
Every evening we go to the Rendez-Vous Bar where several of
our Cool Cruiser friends gather every night for cocktails and stories about
what we’ve been up to over the past day or so. And of course there is the
occasional lunch with the Cool Cruisers and the day after every segment starts
we have a “Meet & Greet” for the new people to meet the Cool Cruisers on
board already. If you have no idea who the Cool Cruisers are: there is a
website called Cruise Critic where they sell cruises but also have a lot of
very active forums (ideas for things to do in ports, answers to all kinds of
questions to do with cruising, that sort of thing) including the “Roll Call”
for each and every cruise. Some roll calls are more active than others. The
seven-day Caribbean cruise roll calls are not too active but our World Cruise
was extremely active with over 2500 forum messages, including a list of
everyone who wanted to be listed as going on the cruise. We named ourselves the
Cool Cruisers and that is how we’re know on the ship (we didn’t like Cruise
Critic because it sounds rather negative, which we are NOT!).
Food is a BIG part of shipboard life; not perhaps as much as
on other ships merely because of size. Our ship is kind of small (compared to
the Oasis of the Seas that was in St. Thomas with us; she has over 5000
passengers, we have fewer than 2000) and doesn’t have all the venues that the
bigger ships have. We have a pizza place (I’m less that enthusuastic about
that), the Horizon Court (aka, the Horror Zone), and the two main dining rooms.
There are a couple of others that are only open in the day time. We almost
always have breakfast in our cabin. Just like a great hotel, we order the night
before, choose the time for delivery, and George (our Room Service waiter)
brings it along with whatever else HE thinks we should want—like strawberries
or a plate of bacon—and a tablecloth. Nevermind that we only have a coffee
table, he sets the table as if it were at the finest restaurant. Now that we’re
back in warmth, we may start having breakfast on the deck. Aren’t you feeling
sorry for us? Last night we had a traditional Australian party in the Regency
dining room, Christmas in July, with a gift exchange at our table including our
head waiter Johann, our senior server Lisa, and the assistant server as well as
the eight of us.
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| Steve, celebrating at Christmas in July! I tried to post this on FB and it wouldn't post, no matter how many times I tried! |
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| Joe, Lyn, and Angela, three of our tablemates |
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| Cheryl has a birthday that she didn't really want to celebrate! |
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| Our Christmas in July table |
So life will continue for another 34 days. I can’t believe
how close we are to finishing this trip of a lifetime! And Bill, we’re not even
close to a divorce, so I think I’ll take down the Cheap Divorce for Cruisers
certificate you gave us; it’s been on the wall for 70 days and I don’t think we’ll
need it. Probably.
