bearable.
“All right, but I have to go now, otherwise I’m in trouble. What’s your cabin number?”
“Cabin 371.”
Amanda and Peter also got up; both hugged Meg and kissed her on both cheeks.
“Hope you have a terrific cruise, Ma. We have to go. They just announced visitors ashore.”
“What, you are not coming on this cruise?”
My voice was shrill with consternation. What was this? Had they only brought their mother to the ship only? I had thought ….
“Oh, we are so happy that we met you. First we thought Mother would be lonely, but now you can keep her company.”
Amanda and Peter vigorously shook my hand, expressing their gratitude. Amanda even went as far as giving me a kiss and hugging me. She looked at me strangely, as I suddenly must have seemed lukewarm; all my enthusiasm had drained away. Not very successfully trying to smile, I promised them their mother would not be alone.
On the navigation bridge, the chief officer hardly acknowledged my presence, and instead loudly announced his opinion about me to the captain. The grandfather figure of yesterday had turned into a man with penetrating gray eyes, which seemed to bore straight through me. Both snorted and turned their backs on me.
Wet Paint
Days at sea, I am convinced, are the best part of a cruise. The relaxing in the sun at the ship’s pools, the late mornings, a leisurely breakfast with no pressure to go ashore, is what cruising is all about. This is true for the passengers as well as the crew. Of course, we all go on a cruise or to sea, to see something of the world, and at first glance, an itinerary with a new port every day appears very attractive, but after a few days of port hopping the sea days become more and more appealing. Of course a cruise without ports would be pointless. After all, everybody wants to go somewhere.
Wouldn’t it be odd to report to your neighbor, during the weekly Tuesday evening of bridge, that you didn’t go anywhere, only to sea, and that for two weeks! Gossip about you would run wild and friends would start avoiding you, putting your mental stability in question. It is a fact however that the more experienced a cruiser becomes, the more he or she appreciates the sea days. Those who ponder making their first cruise however, often go for the itinerary, crammed with as many ports as possible. To me it seems that we are not doing a great job in educating those, by bringing the sea day more to their attention in all its glory.
While it’s not unusual that a brochure allocates half a page describing the joys and pleasures of each port of call, the sea day is mostly simply called, “sea day.” Experienced cruisers often read between the lines of those brochures and look for what is not there.
It was one of those sea days, a most beautiful one in the Caribbean. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and a light wind kept the temperature to a level that was just right. The previous day we had sailed from Curacao and were en route to Barbados just about half way into our ten day cruise. I was on duty on the bridge on the 12 to 4 watch, and in the best of possible moods. Outside, on each bridge wing, crew members were hard at work. On one side, a sailor was sanding and varnishing the teakwood railings to a dark and rich tint. Even simply watching that job gave me huge satisfaction. Wood is such a beautiful material, and applying the varnish, making it gleam like a mirror, while at the same time being outside, certainly is not a job to complain about. Every now and then I walked outside and chatted with the sailor who was painting, and he explained to me how he did his job.
“Varnishing is more difficult than you think, Sir. First you have to use rough sandpaper, and then give it a coat of varnish. Then you do it with a finer grade and give it another coat.”
“What’s in there?” I pointed at an unmarked can containing a watery substance.
“Oh, that’s the converter, Sir. You add it, and then the varnish dries faster. The more you add, the faster it dries. Feel it.” He pointed at a railing part he just finished.
I made a mental note to remember this, as I was planning to pursue an advertisement I had seen, announcing a little wooden sailing boat for sale, which without question would need tons of varnish.
“I only did this part half an hour ago and it’s almost dry.” The man was right; it was amazing. The railing shone like a mirror, and he only just had finished working on it.
“Oops, almost three. Time for coffee”.
The sailor put his brush in a can with thinner, closed the can with varnish, and with a, “See you later,” he went down to the mess room. I too went inside and poured myself a cup. Sipping on it, while leaning on the window sill, looking out over the blue sea, I was at peace with the world.
Now that I have at length mentioned the sailor painting, you might want to know what crew member was so hard at work on the bridge wing at starboard side. Well at that side there was the captain, working very hard to get a nice suntan. He had organized a deck chair with a little table, and with the bridge wing being a restricted area, he was alone, and had all the privacy he could wish for.
I only had been on board for three weeks, and it was the first time I had ever sailed with him. Already, during a few occasions, I had found out that he was not exactly an easy-going man. It still upset me thinking back on how he had reprimanded me in public for only the smallest offence. Therefore, I stayed away from the starboard wing.
Every now and then I peered out of the side window and saw that his many days of hard work were paying of. His whole body was tanned a deep color of brown. It even could be seen underneath the thick lavishly curling hair on his barrel shaped chest. The man must be strong as an ox, I reflected. While fairly short—he could not have been much taller than 5 feet 6—he looked to be almost as wide as that.
Turning back, I took another sip of my coffee, watching the distant horizon. Far away, I saw some movement. I put the cup down. Did I see a whale spouting in the distance? Reaching for my binoculars, I stepped back a few paces. Yes, I was right. A few miles ahead of us I saw a group of whales, maybe six or seven of them. Even though seeing those great mammals is not that exceptional, observing a whole group is not a daily or even a monthly occurrence. Should I make an announcement? The passengers without doubt would love to see this.
Using the public address system though, put me in a quandary, as this was discouraged by our company. The passengers were supposed to be on board to relax, not to listen to all kinds of announcements. But surely, a group of whales would be of enough interest to the passengers to warrant this disturbance? Not wanting to receive another dressing down, for a moment I did not know how to proceed. Suddenly a brilliant idea popped up in my mind, why not ask the captain? He was close by, and his agreement would cover any comments I could get.
“Sir, there are whales close by, should I make an announcement for the passengers?”
“Huh, what? … Whales? Where? Yes of course. They will love it, where do you see them?”
“At the other side—about a mile away now. There must be about seven of them.”
Apparently very interested in marine life, the captain got up, grabbed a pair of binoculars from the bridge and hurried to the other side, while I made the announcement.
“Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention please? We are approaching a group of whales on our port side ….”
My announcement must have been heard by every soul on board, and within a few minutes the railings were lined with hundreds of passengers and crew alike. So many were there, that the ship slightly listed under their combined weight. The captain was no less enthusiastic than anybody else.
“Look there, he must be at least a hundred feet, and that one, look!”
It was obvious that I had misjudged this man slightly, as someone who had such an obvious love