Don’t Mess With The Regimented Fun!
Author: Jacqulynn Mulyk
I have never been subject to so many conversations about the NFL before in my life. Jon used sports talk as a way to break the ice with people and he is right, it works almost every time. With one comment about ‘x’ team the conversation was off to a roaring start. Both men and women from the U.S. embrace their teams and are fierce defendants of said team. Jon shook hands and struck up conversations right left and centre. I on the other hand tried to entertain with bad jokes and it usually resulted in an odd look rather than a laugh. I was acutely aware of how little I had in common with cruisers (to which they referred to themselves as) when the question was asked, “So where will your next cruise be?” and I would reply, “In hell.” Definitely a conversation stopper.
The Windjammer Buffet with its large variety of semi-healthy food, is where we had most of our meals. You could eat as much as you wanted and as often as you could drag your lard-ass to the table. I once saw this woman shovel a plateful of bacon onto her plate and then change her mind by slowly putting fistfuls of it back into the tray. I am glad to say, I never did eat the bacon.
One day I resolved to only eat watermelon but the 4pm gin-and-tonic broke down my reserve. We went to the dinning room that night and half-way through our meal we were put through a regimented ‘Macarena line dance’, where no one was allowed to stay seated. Resonating from the drop-down pressboard ceiling were dozens of old crackly speakers spitting out a loud fuzzy version of the Macarena song. The waiters came over to our table with a grimacing smile and said, “Get up! Time to dance!” So we danced and I made sure to smile, less I send everyone into some kind of obsequious act of rescue. Don’t mess with the regimented fun! An undertone to the entire vacation.
Shuffle shuffle, step. Shuffle, shuffle, step, hip switch, hip switch, shuffle shuffle step. No, not the moves to the latest dance craze, although there were many a line dance happening on the boat; these are the moves we made many times while waiting in line-ups. There are cues for everything and this was taken as normal and perfectly acceptable. No one likes to wait around, but it is taken as something necessary when one is going to have fun. A bigger line-up indicates a possibility of more fun and so all move like steel dust flakes to a magnet. Cruisers follow each other, something like safety in numbers I think.
There were about four different bars plus pool deck casino. All had the same chairs, light fixtures and rugs but each had their own name. ‘Bolaros’ was the Spanish bar, ‘Spectrum’ the disco bar, ‘Schooner Bar, is for sing-a-long piano and sports. The ‘Viking Bar’ was a quiet bar for sophisticates and the casino and pool deck bar are self-explanatory. I felt like drinking all the time. I just wanted to wake up and dive into my first frozen daiquiri, but I restrained until after lunch, usually. Diving in early just meant I had nothing to look forward to later. I was usually tired of drinking by 7pm if I started before 4pm. It was also not cheap to drink on the boat, this is where they make most of their money. On the pool deck there was a calypso-reggae band usually playing. Well they would play in between poolside bingo, sexiest man contest, belly flop contest and other P.A assisted games. It all resembled a Gladiator-set with the different decks, announcements and the gathered ‘players’ jammed together in their blue lounge chairs.
One day I managed to squeeze in a workout at the fitness centre and a run around the ship. That was the day I was only going to eat watermelon. I was motivated by yesterday’s salt laden meal from Jonny Rockets. I was starting to bloat up like a big balloon. Everyday I was in the mirror examining my red skinned face and my expanding waist line. I imagined not fitting into any of my jeans back home and wondered if I could live on gin-and-tonic for the next 4 days. I found myself overly concerned about my appearance on the boat. What to wear to this occasion, not having the right accessories and don’t let me get into the shoes.
There are three important questions to ask yourself on board, what are you going to eat, where are you going to eat, and how are you going to look eating it? That’s it. Ok maybe you might throw in another question here and there like, “Where did I put my pool towel down? Or should I have a blended ice drink or just a beer?” but overall the whole idea of the cruise is to eliminate all questions from your mind. This is what cruisers love and is what keeps them coming back. “Hell, I won’t get a drunk driving ticket here” and “I never have to think about anything on the boat, no decisions,” all comments from the defendants of crusing life. Everything is right here, entertainment, food, trips into town, shopping. “Why would anyone do anything else than cruising!?” is what Jeannie in her high pitched voice said to us one night at her celebratory 240th cruiseship dinner. I couldn’t give her an answer, she was just so out of my league.
There was a beautiful theatre on board with upper balconies. We sat in the upper seats one night and felt like we were getting a very good deal. We saw a few good shows on board and I have to say this is the room where I had the most fun. There was some excellent dancers, a couple of good comedians and an entertaining magician. The cruise director, Ricki from Jamica was the coordinator of all entertainment on board and we happened to be on his last cruise before a long 2-month break. That is how it works with most staff on board. Four months working and two months off. Though, as Ned the guitar player explained, if they call you before your two months are finished and you don’t take up the ‘offer’ of early work, then you may as well count yourself unemployed. Not technically unemployed, but definitely on the shit list. The staff on board were all amazingly friendly and very good at their jobs. Every time you walked by one of the staff you were greeted with a cordial ‘good morning’ or good evening and a how are you sir or madam?” This was part of their job. Every afternoon or evening when we made it back to the room there was a cute towel animal hanging around. You see the statesman (your personal room attendant) is trained in fancy towel folding; a talent I have not had the privilege of witnessing before.
We got to know Ned the guitar player and Jon sat down with the musicians to play a few tunes one of the nights in the Schooner Bar. “This is a gift that you need to share with people!” one of the mid-40 year old lady from Alabama on a company excursion, expressed to Jon in between songs. You see I had explained that Jon generally only plays in our living room and they thought this was a terrible waste. Needless to say, Jon was having the time of his life.
On the second cruise many of the passengers were wearing bright orange t-shirts that said ‘Florida Primative Babtists’. There were many large black people on this trip, considerably more than the first cruise. I think this made things more interesting. Let’s just say, the windjammer was decidedly busier. I met a large, handsome black woman in the bolero lounge and she shared one of her Newport cigarettes with me. She worked at a police station in the Bronx and was happy to get away from the snow. She was traveling with her best friend. That was the other thing, they allowed smoking on the ship in designated areas like the casino and one half of the Bolaros lounge. I don’t smoke very often but I thought it went well with the gin and tonic and my laptop. It was a novelty to smoke inside again.
There were a lot of young couples and families on the ship and this had surprised me. Don’t get me wrong, there were also many diamond plus travelers working towards their 300th cruise, but they did not dominate the guest list. I think the age group might have influenced the never ending train of fun on the ship, but what do I know. The P.A announcements were especially present when, because of weather, the ship was not able to dock in CocoKay. That meant everyone had to stay on board rather than experiencing the Royal Caribbean owned island. That’s right, an entire island owned by a cruise ship company. I think you can guess what that island must be like – buffet eating was the main activity for both cruisers and seagulls alike. Only Royal Caribbean can dock on this island and RC crew actually live out there providing the ‘island’ experience. There are large blue deck loungers by the hundreds scattered all over the island, along with workout stations and garbage cans. You could pay for many excursions and of course there is the ever present grass huts ready to sell you cheap made in China souvenirs.
No matter where you go as a cruiser, you are always within 20ft of shopping. Ship and ports are all catered to mass movement of the money welding, entertainment seeking cruiser. They make it really easy for you. No cash or credit card is required, just a room card. No age or spending limit to hamper your fun, just show your room card and all needs, wants and desires will be placated. And if you gave them your credit card at the time of booking you won’t even see a sign of the bill until you are safely at home and hopefully seated when you open your credit card bill.
Another port we docked was in Nassau, Bahamas. I have to say I just about lost it here. My images of beautiful paradise beaches were bulldozed by streets and shopping malls. We walked like lemmings off the ship and onto another ferry boat. This ferry boat was taking us to Paradise Island. “Yes! Sounds exactly like what I had in mind!” so on we went. The tour guide was shouting made-up history at us and then demanded a tip before we left the small boat. Off we went, towels in hand and flip-flops on feet in search of our own spot on Paradise beach. We were directed and misdirected again and again by the local workers. I started to believe there was some conspiracy to keep us cruisers, a.k.a bottom feeders and free loaders, off the public beach. We kept winding our way through shopping center after shopping center while the precious hours off the boat dwindled away. I had this nightmare feeling of being trapped and laughed at by the locals. I seriously went into some kind of anxiety attack, it freaked Jon out. I took many breaths and followed Jon in some zombie state while he walked ahead of me shaking his head at my outburst. Eventually we actually found the beach. We had a precious two hours left and the sun was already starting to make its way behind the trees. I won’t even explain the ridiculous journey I had to make for a bloody drink, at which point I needed desperately. Even on the beach bahamians dressed in their winter clothes, were trying to sell us cheap necklaces and wooden flutes. “Sorry man, I don’t have any cash” seemed to be all we needed to say to make them walk on, but not without cursing us under their breath. I did get to swim in the blue Caribbean waters which was oh-so sweet; I just had to keep my head-up to watch for speeding jet-skis.
Thanks to our host we were able to miss some of the line-ups upon exiting and he was ever so gracious to offer us a free room on the boat. I am grateful for this and in a weird way, value the experience. I hope I haven’t offended any cruise loving tourists out there, I will admit I am not a traveler in love with the resort either. My ideal vacation is in a kayak with my tent in tow. I will hopefully be able to write the story to that one soon, in which I am sure there will be different challenges to overcome.
09-5-2011 
