The
cab picked us up in front of the motel as our young wrestling buddies pounded
carbs and headed for the mats.
Our
cab driver was a very well-spoken and interesting fellow from Honduras who was
trying to move his family to the US to escape the drug cartels that kidnap
children to feed the thriving market for fresh human body parts. The next time
you think this country is nuts, remember that one.
I
asked him whether New Orleans had finally recovered from Hurricane Katrina and
he said, “Well, they rebuilt what they wanted to keep. But some of the low spots,
like over in the Ninth Ward, are still abandoned.”
I
suggested that rebuilding where it was going to flood again was probably not a
wise move and he agreed.
“It
must have taken an army of construction workers to clean up the mess and put
the city back together after Katrina,” I suggested.
Our
driver chuckled. “Yep, we had half of Mexico and Latin America up here for a
few years. Every construction site was filled with Latinos doing the hard labor
and the local rednecks supervising. And as soon as all the work was finished,
the Immigration Police started rounding up all the illegals at the Home Depots and then
shipped them back home.”
The
Royal Caribbean and Carnival cruise ships leave from the River Walk shopping
mall at the base of Canal Street where the 1984 World’s Fair was held, right next
door to the Convention Center and the giant warehouse complex where they build
the Mardi Gras floats. It’s on all the city tours. But given that Fat Tuesday
had exploded less than a week before, the place was looking pretty empty and
forlorn.
In order to speed up the boarding process, Royal Caribbean encourages you to register on-line, and once you have completed the reservation forms they tell you to arrive at one, about three hours before the ship leaves the dock. We knew from our last cruise that they will actually let you board around ten thirty. Once all of the passengers from the previous cruise have disembarked at ten, they immediately start reloading. They are still cleaning the ship and, most importantly, the staterooms, but they will let you come aboard and do some exploring or lounge around the pool until your room is ready.
This
time we just carried our luggage aboard with us – no muss, no fuss. If your
bags can fit into the x-ray machine, you’re good to go. We were scoped and
scanned along with our bags and then we headed over to the final checkpoint
where we received our Sea Pass. This is a blue and gold credit
card that you use to charge everything your heart desires during the voyage,
and gets you on and off the boat at each stop. Essentially it’s your passport
and line of credit – one little handy-dandy piece of plastic. The whole
boarding procedure took about thirty minutes and by eleven, we were drinking
beers by the pool and staring down at New Orleans like excited children.
My
closest friends from my days at the Grand Canyon, Larry and TC, who had
recently retired from the U.S. Forest Service, were joining us for what would
be their first cruise, and by the time we were settling into our room they
called us on our cell to say they were standing on the dock below in the
world’s longest line. We, of course, had avoided all that crap by coming aboard
early. Plus, we had our bags. Live and learn.
I
still can’t really wrap my brain around the fact that our ship, the Navigator
of the Seas, leaves New Orleans every Saturday with over 3,000 paying
customers and a crew of over 1,000, sails around the Caribbean for a week, and
then arrives back in New Orleans the following Saturday, says goodbye to the
slightly dazed and sunburned cruisers, cleans everything from stem to stern in
the course of a few hours, loads the boat with food and fuel, and then does it
all again, and again, and again. I don’t care what you do for work. I don’t
care how hard it is, or how complex. Nothing rivals this business plan. It’s
akin to going to war every week.
And
I can’t possibly express how difficult the life of the crew is. They sign eight
month contracts and never get a day off. They work endless shifts. They share a
room the size of the average American bathroom with a total stranger who may
not even speak the same language. They are all “Yes, Sir” and “Hello, Sir”
whenever and wherever you encounter them. And they always do it with a smile.
A
lot has recently been said about the cruel conditions these young men and women
– and this is definitely a young person’s job, for sure – endure. After the
Carnival Cruise disaster, tearing at the dark underbelly of the cruise ship
industry has become a sort of blood sport. But I talked to a lot of folks from
almost fifty nations who worked on the ship, and while most admitted theirs was
a tough road to hoe, they also said it was a great opportunity to escape their
home countries where there were limited opportunities, and they got to see the
world.
I’ll
be coming back to the internal nuts and bolts of the boat scene during the
course of the next few days, but I want to say right up front that the people
who toil on cruise ships work their asses off under tough conditions, but most
feel like it’s a step up – maybe a small step – but it’s better than the place
they left. No one is forced to work aboard a cruise ship.
After
hooking up with Larry and TC, we began exploring the ship. Much of the cool
stuff is on Deck 5, where the Royal Promenade is located. There are shops and
kiosks all dressed up to look like a fancy little commercial street. You can buy
anything from very expensive jewelry to a Ben & Jerry’s ice cream cone. And the Royal Promenade changes color based on the time
of day and the various events occurring on the ship. In addition, there’s the
Connoisseur Club, Vintages Wine Bar, the Champagne Bar, Two Poets Pub, Ixtapa
Lounge, Swan Lake formal dining room, and the Café Promenade that serves free
Seattle’s Best coffee and snacks 24-7.
There
are several elegant stairways leading to the deck below where there is the
Mardi Gras-themed Casino Royale, Boleros Lounge, Schooner Bar, the Dungeon DJ
Dance Hall, and the Coppelia dining room.
The
real action takes place up on Deck 11, where there’s the main pool, pool bar
where bands play throughout the day, multiple Jacuzzis, a solarium with its own
sea-water filled pools and hot tubs, a state-of-the-art gym, Navigator Day Spa,
Sea Trek Dive Shop, the Peek-a-Boo Bridge where you can watch the Captain do
his thing, the Island Grill, Portofino, the Chops Grille, and the sprawling
Windjammer cafeteria where they serve free buffet-style meals from dawn ‘til
nine at night.
On
Deck 12, there’s a jogging & walking track, climbing wall, miniature golf
course, Adventure Ocean, basketball & volleyball courts, Sky Bar, the
Johnny Rockets diner, Challenger’s Arcade, Living Room (Teen Area), and Fuel:
Teen Disco. Cruise ships go out of their way to cater to young folks with tricked-out
arcades and fun programs, and while it seems a bit off-putting at first to see
all the youngsters running around, most of them are like little toys and it
really is quite nice. Frankly, I can’t even imagine how cool a cruise would be
for a kid – sort of like living for a week in a sugar-packed amusement park.
Deck
14 is as high as you can go, and there you will find the chapel, 19th
Hole bar, Cloud 9, the Viking Crown Card Lounge, and the Cosmopolitan jazz bar
that crowned the ship like a white flying saucer with tinted green windows.
And for those who think cruise ships are all glitzy
glitter, that’s utter nonsense. The Navigator of the Seas showcases over
2,000 pieces of art worth $8.5 million dollars. Navigator’s main Centrium
sculpture spans over seven stores and is based on the bubbles a scuba diver
makes when swimming under water.
Before
leaving the dock we were required to attend a safety drill in the Mayan-themed
Ixtapa Lounge where they explained what was expected of us in the case of an
emergency. If you hear seven or more short blasts on the ship's
whistle and the general alarm, followed by one long blast, you are to
quickly head to your designated life boat area with your life jacket in hand and
then – I stopped listening at that point.
By
4:30, the ship was loaded and it was time to set sail. We began our voyage from
the Big Easy with the Big Spin, as the Captain backed our 1,020-foot whale of a
ship away from the dock and ever-so-slowly turned it around in the middle of
the busy river and headed south past grey levies, a zillion ships of all shapes
and sizes, an eclectic mishmash of houses
and slightly out-of-place antebellum mansions, industrial cranes, leafless trees,
sturdy churches, broken docks, tons of tugs and barges laden with who knows
what, abandoned-looking warehouses, hulking oil refineries, and freighters
galore.
Staring
out at New Orleans from the bow on Deck 12, at the top of the world, it wasn’t
hard to see why hurricanes are such a threat to New Orleans. The city is flat
as a board. The bridges are the tallest structures.
We
followed the meander bends in the Mississippi as a pilot boat cleared the way
for us down river, playing "dodge the ships" as the sun set bright
orange behind us. We had a strong tail wind from the big arctic blast that had
turned New Orleans so cold. When I closed my eyes it felt like we were gliding
through the air. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.
It's amazing how quickly after leaving New Orleans there is NOTHING – just endless swamp land interspersed with oil refineries, like grain elevators rising out of the flat farm fields of the Midwest.
We
were looking at a ninety-mile trip down the Big Muddy that would take about
nine hours. The 9% VAT tax would be in play until we got to the ocean, so we
drank our own booze that first night. You are allowed to bring aboard two
bottles of wine and we celebrated our happy reunion in great style from Larry
and TC’s ocean front balcony every evening before dinner.
We were in the first seating for dinner and arrived at our assigned table in the Nutcracker dining room on Deck 3 at 5:30, where we met our table mates, a friendly family of four from Saskatchewan, Canada. This would be the only night we would see them, no doubt because getting their two young boys to sit still through a long, three course dinner, was a bit too much fun.
We were in the first seating for dinner and arrived at our assigned table in the Nutcracker dining room on Deck 3 at 5:30, where we met our table mates, a friendly family of four from Saskatchewan, Canada. This would be the only night we would see them, no doubt because getting their two young boys to sit still through a long, three course dinner, was a bit too much fun.
Lots
of Canadians escape the bite of winter by taking a cruise. Let me put this in
perspective for you. This family had driven eight hours through a blizzard to
get to the largest regional airport for their flight out. That airport was
located in Minot, North Dakota. Winter is a cold, hard bargain when anything
in North Dakota is the big city.
Unlike
our first cruise, which left from San Juan, Puerto Rico, there weren't that
many Europeans on the boat. I guess that if you are going to travel all the way
from Europe to find some heat, then you want to start as far south as possible
to ensure warm weather. And after dealing with temperatures in the 50’s in New
Orleans, that seemed like a pretty good strategy.
After
dinner we roamed the ship and caught a very snappy Welcome Aboard Variety
Show in the Art Deco Metropolis Theater. The stage productions are not Broadway
caliber, but they are always entertaining and free. Free is good.
By
nine, we returned to our rooms and discovered that Larry’s bag had yet to
arrive. He called down to Guest Services and was told that he had been busted
by the Boat Police because they had found a Swiss Army knife in his bag. The
dangerous weapon was confiscated until the end of the voyage and Larry was then
given back his luggage with a smile.
“You
wouldn’t believe the assortment of weapons they had down there,” exclaimed
Larry. “There were big knives, clubs, and swords. There were even a couple
cross bows.”
Ahhh,
yesh, there’s nothing like traveling abroad to bring out the warrior in us all.
Waiting in anticipation for your next post. Love your stories! : )
ReplyDeleteThanks! It's like Assateague on steroids.
ReplyDeleteLOL....you have me trying to convince Chris to take a cruise. Love your stories. : )
ReplyDelete