My Cruising Musing: Day One

Day 1:
So after weeks of anticipation (not the mark days off on your calendar kind but the little kid waking up 20 times on Christmas Eve ready to burst forth and open all his presents only to find its only been two hours since he went to bed), the day of embarkation has finally arrived. We are even more excited. We’ve left the boys with Grandma (Grandpa will be there too but let’s not kid ourselves about who will be doing the lion’s share of the babysitting this week) and we’re headed to Long Beach to board our luxury cruise liner. I am a little stressed out at this point because through some unforeseen events we are leaving a little later than planned and are dangerously close to being too late to start the boarding process.
I am driving like a madman, and Nicole is praying for Divine intervention and safety (although the safety prayers were more shouts and they were generally screamed in my direction). We follow the directions we’ve obtained perfectly; the only problem was they were directions to the port of Los Angeles, not to our specific berth. The entire port is enormous and our directions have taken us to an area that is reminiscent of every dock or pier scene I’ve ever seen on 24. I am waiting for some deranged terrorist who has gotten his hands on a nuclear weapon and been able to smuggle it into the country with the help of some high up government insiders and one strategically placed member of CTU, to come out and destroy my vacation plans. I’d like to see him try. He’ll be begging for Jack Bauer’s merciful ways once I am through with him. We called the cruise hotline and they got us directions to the proper berth and we made it to the parking area with 21 minutes to spare.
We went through the security check point with complete ease. These people have it down so much smoother than TSA. We found our appropriate boarding line and walked right up to the counter (mostly because everyone else was on the ship and had been for several hours). Our boarding assistant was an extremely jovial woman. I love it when someone enjoys themselves while they work. If you don’t like your job, then why subject the rest of us to your misery? Just find a different one where you either enjoy your work or you aren’t around other people trying to ruin their good moods. She asked us the standard set of questions: Yes, our bags have been in our possession the entire time; no, we have never had swine flu or any other sickness related to livestock; Yes, I am married, and no, I am not available Saturday night. Now it’s time to board and begin our adventure.
The first thing that strikes you about a cruise ship is its enormity. These things are huge. I think they said it weighs about 138,000 tons. It is an entire city floating on the ocean. We follow directions and stop and ask for more and eventually we find our stateroom. Now the first thing that strikes you about your stateroom is definitely not its enormity. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but it’s very much like being a cabbage patch doll in a Barbie house. You fit, but you know it was designed with someone much smaller in mind.
Our first official act as cruisers is to report to our Muster stations to go through the whole emergency drill. We set off to our muster station to meet the people with whom we will be sharing a life raft in the case of some extreme emergency that requires us to abandon ship. The life boats are rather large and can hold up to 150 people, but I am not taking any chances. I don’t want just any 150 people; I want 150 people who are going to be worth saving. I have decided to start compiling my own muster list of the people I will allow in my life boat, should we be struck with some calamity that forces us to “man the long boats”.
First off the list is all the college kids who are here on spring break. Not because they are raucous and rowdy, but because they are on a cruise for spring break. This totally defeats the whole “poor, starving college student” mentality. If you’re that poor and starving, then why in the world would you be on a cruise? Pay your student loans off! Do you not do enough partying during the course of the semester that you have to come and exude youthful rambunctiousness all over my cruise ship? Don’t you have a dissertation to write or a project to complete?
Next off my muster list is the dad and son standing next to me in our muster line. The dad is wearing a Seattle Mariners hat and the son is donning a Chicago White Sox cap. My curiosity got the better of me (as it often does) and I had to ask how one family could support two geographically different teams. There reply was that they don’t support either, they don’t even care for baseball (a travesty to be sure), and that they forgot their hats when they packed so they purchased a couple at the store before they boarded. You couldn’t find some generic hat with the cruise ship’s name on it, or at the very least some nondescript markings. All I’m saying is that if you don’t want someone making casual conversation about the sports teams you apparently support then don’t wear their gear! What this tells me is that you really don’t think things through and when lives are on the line you can’t be counted on. Enjoy going down with the ship guys. I hope it was worth it.
We’ve just met the Captain. His name is Johnny, and despite the fact that every time the crew introduces him they say, “Heeeeeeeeere’s Johnny!” and he comes out pretending to swing a golf club (what I feel is an infringement on copyrighted material), he genuinely tries to be funny and he is mildly entertaining. (That, and he has a bunch of shiny medals on his coat which I think is really cool). This is a considerable step up from the last cruise ship captain, whose draconian command was slightly annoying and certainly unapproachable. So instead of going down with the ship I will allow him into my life boat. As for the rest of his crew, no one else has won me over and as of now, they are all left to float.
We’ve just finished dinner. It was delicious. I had the slow roasted prime rib and a baked potato. I had an onion tart for appetizer and a delicious peach and blueberry cobbler for dessert. We are seated at a table with four other people, a couple from Salt Lake City who are on their honeymoon and a couple of spring breakers from Stanford. The spring breakers have moved to the standby list of my life boat. They are both smart and engaging, not at all like the rest of the rowdy group. The honeymooners are nice and I’ve decided that they can have a spot on my lifeboat; mostly because they are infinitely more engaging conversationalists than the addle-pated nincompoops we were forced to dine with on our first cruise.
Well, we’re headed to bed. The first day of our cruise has come to a close and many, many people have voluntarily removed themselves from the muster list. We plan on sleeping in, having breakfast and relaxing. G’night!