FATHER JOHN ON THE HIGH SEAS

 FATHER JOHN ON THE HIGH SEAS

Taking a cruise. Magic words. The Florida chapter of the National Association of the Blind announced they were going to have their state convention on board a cruise ship – a 3 day cruise. (Which immediately produces echoes of the S.S. Minnow – and if that doesn’t mean anything to you, you’re probably not old enough to be reading this.) So I signed up, and a friend worked out a payment plan so I dropped in $50 a month to make my reservation, and she got me upgraded to a room with a porthole. I felt that 250 blind people on a cruise ship was an experience I didn’t want to miss.

Unfortunately, not enough people signed up, so the meeting was cancelled. But by then, I was committed to a meeting of the Notre Dame Senior Alumni Board in Florida a couple of weeks before the cruise, and since my Provincial and my Rector had each (gently) scolded me for not having taken a vacation in several years, I decided to keep the reservation and go ahead with the trip.

Then the NDSA meeting was cancelled – well, turned into a video chat meeting, which I was unable to make. Because I had scheduled some time off, visiting friends, doing some road work for the Xavier Society for the Blind, and the Natinal Association for Blind Veterans (for which group I am national chaplain and a national board member), ending up with the cruise, their time slot was at a time when I was quite literally on the road and unable to re-schedule. I spent some time at Hilton Head, (training it to get down) with a wonderful friend from college. She was very busy, so I had a gorgeous beach front house largely to myself. 

If you don't like the ocean, there's a pool and a hot tub. When I was there, pretty much to cold for anything. 

Only a day and half had weather warm enough to actually sit outside and smoke a cigar (the ultimate standard for good weather in my world) but it was a lovely time. 

Here is where I would sit and smoke a cigar. Twice. Before it got too cold.

I spent two days with some friends in Charleston who had just moved there  from Cleveland (GOOD timing!). Train again down to Orlando, where I spent a couple of days with the national president of the NABV (a one-cigar weather report) and then to Palm Coast, with another wonderful friend – well, two if we could her husband, and we most certainly do. One cigar afternoon, but grand just to be able to spend time with them. And some relatives of theirs with whom we had dinner several times and drinks more often than that. 

Stopped to see St. Paul's Basilica in Daytona and got chatting with the guy running the little gift counter in the lobby. Turns out he is from NY - knows a lot of Jesuits I know - and wrote a book about growing up in the orphanage system in NY. So I bought the book.

We went to Daytona one day, and to St. Augustine another, so I saw a little something of the territory, and got both new glasses and sunglasses. I am feeling very sporty! 

Not our boat but the newest, and I think largest, of the Norwegian line. They had the dedication on the day we sailed, complete with dignitaries and cheerleaders. We weren't invited. Moored across the pier from us. 

 And on to the boat, which was sailing from Miami. I had found a bus that went from Orlando to Miami, but my friend offered – nay, insisted – and so she drove me down. (Honestly compels me to report that one of her daughters is getting married in Austin and she was shopping for a “Mother of the Bride” dress. She had looked at Saks in Orlando but they are closing, and there wasn’t much choice. So down we went. Because of the threat of inclement weather along the way (in Florida that means rain, just in case my northern friends have attached other meanings to that term over the last six weeks or so), we left early, and I got to the pier around 10:30.

The official documents said that boarding would start at noon, but I registered (one of the first) and was literally the second person on board.

Home sweet home. Cozy. 

Nice to have a window.

Let me pause for a minute and do a little background. I was sailing on the Norwegian Sky, and the cruise is advertised as a three-day cruise. You sail at 5 PM on Friday and return at 7 AM on Monday. Stretching it to call it a three-day cruise, and there was a lot of stretching on the Norwegian Line, as I was to discover.

The ship carries 2,000+ passengers, double occupancy. I don’t know what the count was for our cruise but it was delightfully less than that, and there was very little crowding. There always seemed to be room, which I loved (!) There are 934 crew members – yes, an almost 1 for 2 ratio, and one of the bits of trivia I picked up is that the chefs prepare 15,000 meals a day. For under 3,000. Do the math. Lots of food.

Norwegian Sky on the high seas - we never saw her like this.

Staterooms were not ready when we boarded, but there was place to leave hand luggage, and a barbecue on the pool deck to keep us busy. I discovered that traveling alone can make one invisible. After you check in, the photographers are there to invite you to come over and take a picture. Except they looked right through me. The guy passing out the first edition of the ship’s newsletter – same thing. (Him I called over.) I was at the opening night show, and at one point the cruise director (who was the MC – more on him later) he had everyone in the audience introduce themselves to the person on their right (that seat was empty) and on their left (I was sitting on an aisle). Then he had people turn to the people in front and behind – the folks in front of me reached forward to meet the people in front of them, and when I turned around, the folks in the row behind me were chatting with the folks behind them. Sigh. Waiters passed me by, people engaged in conversations around me. I don’t think I was sending out a “Leave me along” signal, and it was not a hugely terrible thing, since the point was to relax and be quiet. But still…

Room were available around 2, so I popped in but the suitcase didn’t show up until around 3. I unpacked and changed clothes, had something to eat from the casual restaurant at the stern (more to check out the food than because I was hungry) and soon enough it was time for the mandatory emergency drill – life jackets not required. We stood around and stood around – our station was on the sunny side of the boat – and I started to discover how many languages are being spoken. One couple was complaining in French  that all the instructions and announcements were in English and Spanish so I translated for them. Never saw them again. There is lots of Spanish, and German (one couple with a very Austrian dialect, took me a while to get back in that mode) and Italian and Japanese and Scandinavian languages (I would assume Norwegian but I’m not sure) and Russian and some language from the same family that is NOT Russian and lots of Tagalog – the crew come from 60 different countries, not a one I have seen admitting to Nigeria. They have their countries on their name tags.) After the drill, it was time for us to sail from Miami. (Temperature when we pulled out – backwards for some way until we could turn around- was 82. Just saying. In New York it was 25.) I explored the ship – offered my services as a priest for a Sunday Mass and was fairly quickly dismissed, one less thing to do – and went down to change clothes and have a shower for the evening. Headed up – had something light to eat – chatted with some people at the Art Gallery (more about THEM later as well). Went to the lounge where the idea was people could sing along – and there was a foursome who were very into the whole idea. Unfortunately they wanted Billy Joel and Neil Diamond and Elvis and Elton John – so after a bit I moved on.

There was a welcome show, where the senior staff was introduced and raffle tickets sold (I went in for $20 – won $1) and the cruise director was the MC. Part of me would hope the man is on something, but I think his energy level is staff policy. He is from the Philippines, and he is always up, always enthusiastic, always jolly. I want to kill him.

The boat has a real thing about hospitality, about making people feel welcome, about selling stuff – and it’s all connected. Every announcement reminds us about raffles, about seminars for jewelry, about how to save money at the Duty Free (you don’t – liquor prices are about the same as on shore, and some things a little higher), about signing up to eat at the specialty restaurants (for which there is a charge above and beyond your cruise fee), about the drink special ticket ($49 each day for unlimited drinks – but only for one person and you have to commit to all three days), about the bucket of beer (buy 5, get one free – and every time you ask for a drink, you get a pitch.)

The other thing about the ship is the constant noise. Well, music, but it is hard to find a place for quiet. There is a space at the very front that is supposed to be a quiet area, but some folks seem to feel that means they thereby need to talk more loudly. Ear plugs. Next trip bring ear plugs. Oh, and binoculars. Several times during this trip I really wished I had binoculars. 

The pitch at the welcome show was followed by a comedian. Fortunately short. He wasn’t dreadful, and had a fun routine about growing up half English and half Colombian. He managed to insert a lot of Spanish, which went over well. But he has a lot to learn about timing, and playing an audience, especially when they respond. Or don’t. Stopped by the bar with the piano player again, but the foursome was still in full sway, and any time asked for requests, they had several before anyone else could open a mouth. Yes, even me. I hope they were really good tippers.

So I went out by the pool deck, sat in the smoking area (almost as hard to find as the quiet area) and had a good cigar, with lights in the distance, a couple of other cruise ships in sight, and a parade of couples and interesting people going by. The chairs are not designed for short people – but they get better if you pull up another and stretch out your feet. This is an advantage of being invisible.

Now don’t get the idea that the first day was bad – the weather was lovely, and the relaxing was well underway. There is a tv in the stateroom with recent movies – The Butler, the space thing with Sandra Bullock, the animated one about Meatballs – CNN, Fox News, cricket (Yay! I got to watch cricket!) – the steward (whom I never saw – the whole cruise I never saw the steward – I am used to stewards being ever visible and available. Maybe he can’t see me.)  makes towel animals when he makes up the room in the evening. First night was an elephant. Finished out the day by celebrating Mass in my room, and bed.

The first night - an elephant

DAY TWO

As advertised wifi is slow, unreliable and expensive. My phone warned me that if I left it on I could be subject to international roaming charges. So I’m off the grid. Didn’t sleep as much as I might have wanted because I wanted to be up for sunrise, and came fairly close. Coffee on the stern – we were already anchored off Stirrup Cay, and the morning was full of preparations for the tenders to take people ashore. I had NO desire to go ashore, and found the ship delightfully empty. At one point I changed and went up to the quiet deck. I had checked my notebook before I went up and it had a 97% charge. When I started to use it, it would not turn on. Nada. Figured God was sending me a message so I read a little, and had a hot tub all to myself for a delightful soak. Sat in the sun like a little sea turtle (alright, a large sea turtle). Had a couple of slices of pizza (very small slices) and a beer, and a lovely cigar while I read. (I have been asked to review a book, and so I have spent some quiet time working my way through that. Great book by the way. Light of the Diddicoy by Eamon Loingsigh.) 

The pool deck as I loved it best - with no people!

Down to the room to take a nap – and as soon as I snuggled down into the clean white sheets, they started working somewhere outside my window. Blasting and drilling and scrapping and rattling the very walls. I lay there, being patient, working to maintain a zen-like state. After 90 minutes I gave up, but they didn’t. So I read for a little, and changed for the evening. I have been conscious of not getting into a work mode, not being pressure by schedules, just being able to sit and relax.  

First stop – the champagne art auction. They had a contest – guess the price of a Picasso etching they had on display. They had an auction, and you could prebid, request some items be brought up. It was a very smooth, major league hustle. They announced they had an in-house credit program, where you could take up to 5 years to pay with no interest charge. Interesting idea. A little later, they repeated the announcement, only now it was up to 24 months. Talking with one of the staff, they said 12 months. I got an application, and reading it, discovered lots of things the applicant gives them the right to do, and an APR of 29.7 percent. Nothing about interest free. Another gentlemen and I had been interested in a painting with an opening bid of $1,300. We allowed as how we thought it was too steep, so he went and consulted with someone, and came back to say they could open it at $1,000. Fair enough. When it did come up  - opening bid of $1,350. The staff guy asked if it could be lowered and they gave him a no. At that point, I left and went to dinner.

On one of the decks was a machine that would take your picture and send it. This was me in the lobby. 

I thought I should eat at one of the “restaurants” at least once. I had eaten so far only at the buffet place, and I earlier noted that there is an art to keeping food hot on a buffet line. Norwegian gets a passing mark but not a high one. They have an interesting menu, but items range from lukewarm to chilly. So I thought I should at least try being served. I ate alone at the restaurant, chatty waiter. Had a drink – an appetizer of a wild mushroom enchilada that was nice, although three small pieces, and the guacamole was made with avocado that was not quite ripe. The steak was thin – tasty, but thin – smallest serving of spinach I have ever seen, and three of the smallest slices of tomato ever know. The baked potato came with sour cream, no one had asked if I wanted it – and I didn’t. So I sent it back. Ice cream was flat and crystallized. Not awful but not a great dining experience. I went up to the piano bar, where they had advertized a trivia contest about Broadway show music. But they changed it to music of the 50’s and 60’s. I ran into a group I had seen in the dining room, where one of the party was celebrating a birthday, so I sang to her in the corridor. The comedian was doing a full evening show – I didn’t have the energy for that, so I headed up to the pool deck, and had a Cuban cigar someone had given me. They say that on average people gain 6 pounds a cruise. I think between being moderate and doing a lot of walking just getting around the ship I may actually be losing a pound or two.

It was a most relaxing day. A couple more like this, and I might turn into a human being. The comedian was doing a full evening show, but I decided I wasn’t THAT mellow, so off to bed.

2nd night - a doggie. Praying.

DAY THREE – Sunday. Slept until I woke up, out for breakfast. We were already docked, and a little after 8, the announcement was made that people could start going shore. Some were doing excursions, a number were hot for shopping – I encouraged as many to go as possible. But the odds were not with me; remember that grinding and shattering noise that spoiled yesterday’s nap? Back again, now right above the pool deck. I had gotten a little pink on the legs yesterday so I was staying in long pants and while I like the sun, I didn’t want a lot of it. And that noise pretty much went everywhere you were outside. I thought there might be a possibility on deck 6 – but they were painting the railings. Sigh. Doing maintenance with a ship full of guests? Strange choice. 

My feet, and the scenic view from the bow while in port in Freeport, Bahamas. 

Found a quiet place and did some reading – had some lunch, and the noise stopped, so I had a cigar and people watched. A lot of folks comfortable in their own skin, not caring what others might think of them. (And, God forgive me, some of them have a LOT of skin.) I have seen more skin and butts in the last two days than in a score of burlesque shows. 

Freeport - a little park on the pier.
Yes, that is a cross,
someone call the authorities!

We had cruise ships docked on both sides of us, so the view was somewhat limited, especially since they were significantly larger than we. Ran into a lady in an elevator who was on her way to a massage – it was her 40^th birthday – so (what else?) I sang to her. Tried to modulate a little, because my voice in an elevator – forceful. Spent some time in one of the clubs with my earphones plugged into the notebook (which is now behaving) learning my small role for a Boheme production in March. Back for a rest (Rest? You ask. From what? you think. Trust me, sitting around in the sun can be very tiring.)

A neighbor coming into port.
Royal Caribbean, if I remember correctly.

Just for the record - yes, those are my feet, and I am sitting on the top deck of our little ship. Our neighbor is somewhat larger.

Note the waterslide.
We didn't have a water slide.

Changed for the evening – yes, I honor the tradition of getting slightly fancier for the evening activities, even though that is a dying tradition. Some get very dressed, and some hang out in t-shirts, shorts and sandals. Was on deck when we sailed, and watched the sun set. 

Sunset on the last night. Sigh. 

Had something to eat, but none of the scheduled activities excited me. I had a cigar out on deck, even though it was getting very windy but the background music was unexpectedly mellow and I wanted to go to the evening show, and I was aware that it was going to be an early morning – gentle but the wind was making things chilly. Wandered inside and sat for perhaps 40 minutes listening to a young man with a flexible voice and great skill with the guitar. And on to the theatre for the closing show, young dancers and singers. Tried to get a drink – after I got through the invisible single traveller syndrome, they didn’t have Powers whiskey, they didn’t have port – I gave up. Very energetic (the annoying little MC was present as well) and talented – although in NY you could cast the same show six times over. A couple (ie 2) of very good singers, both young women and 2 designed to appeal to the crowd but interestingly enough, they fell first. (It was an audience applause elimination structure) and except for the fact that the theatre was FREEZING (and that wasn’t just the opinion of crochety old Father John, everyone was complaining) it was fun, and was over in an hour. I witnessed the same phenomenon we see in NY, the show is ending, performers come out for their curtain calls, and some of the audience up and leave. Now at the Met I hear, “Oh they probably have to catch a train.” NOT the case on the ship. Really tacky – people who can’t wait two minutes to acknowledge the hard work of these young people for 60 minutes. Ah well. And bed.

Last night. Not entirely sure what this is. A little creepy.

The pool deck on the last morning. I thought of lashing myself to the rail but....

Sunday Morning – Good sleep, I’m getting very good at packing in my old age, so I was on deck with coffee to see us pulling into Miami. Breakfast – turned on my phone, checked in for my Delta flight, no problems or delays, found the phone for my shuttle ride to the airport, and the confirmation number right in the folder where they are supposed to be. Stopped to gety a printout of charges – it had not appeared at my room as advertised – and discovered I had a $21 credit. What?!!? Apparently I had started off with a credit balance – a travel perk – which I had completely forgotten about. And there is no notice of it in any of the check in material. Had I known I would have had a couple more drinks, or dinner at one of the places where you have to pay a surcharge. Not lost money but a parting annoyance. Changed into clerics, closed the suitcase and off for disembarkation. Several people were startled to see I was a priest and asked why there had been no Sunday Mass. I assured them I had made the offer and the cruise people weren’t interested. Met some folks from NJ, and a guy I had chatted with onboard who went to Fordham. Easy through Customs, got outside, went to look up the phone to call the shuttle – and the systems says “No Mail” In other words, the folder that had the information 90 minutes earlier is now empty. Tried everything I could think of, tried looking on the internet and of course, no way to contact a human being. So I gave up and bought a ticket on the shuttle bus that was there – a 45-minute sit while they loaded but I had time, so I was able to maintain the Zen cool I had achieved. Gentle through security – gate was right by the entry (of course the gate at LaGuardia was as far away from luggage as it could be) – packed flight, and COLD – I wore my coat for most of the trip. Read and napped and tried not to get into a work mode just yet. Walked out with my bag and directly into a cab, no wait, no line. Home – lots of mail, room temp at 61 – and thus endeth my time away.

Closing thoughts – I am so lucky to have friends willing to take in a wandering Jesuit. Every place I stayed had a tv in the guest room – signs of our age. I love cruising but I have to admit I am NOT the target audience and while the younger crowd is interesting and fun, the activities designed to atttract them and the environment created for them gets a bit wearing – and this was only a 3-day cruise (2 ½ if we’re being completely honest). I found the constant selling tiring as well. With all the selling on the tv channels, I wonder why they don’t use one channel as they do on airlines, with a GPS map of where we are and in relation what we’re passing. Easy enough to do technically, and they have tv channel space they’re not using. I found the casual dismissal of my offer to say Mass for the Catholic disturbing – yes, they would have had to set up a room or some space. I cannot believe it would have been a huge crowd. Probably didn’t want to distract from the shopping trips ashore. The cabin was very comfortable – the food was good but if you go on a cruise for the food, this is probably not the one. Staff was superficially friendly, but I’ve been on trips where you could have a real conversation – this was all surface friendly and move on. Now I had a very good time, and the several days of quiet and sun were exactly what I needed. I don’t want my negative comments to overshadow the good bits. But I’ve been on other ships where it was done better – and I am definitely sure I do not want one of those ships with 4,000 people all jammed together.

Now to face the mounds of stuff on my desk, the boxes in my office and getting ready to travel to Dallas next week for a meeting with President Bush and three days of meeting in Washington after that.