I hope you’ve enjoyed cruising along with my dear wife Karen and I from Port Canaveral and back.
We watched with wide eyes from our balcony.
Phew. Quite the vacation. We are thankful.
Yet before I get back full-time to our adventures here with Ellie B in the Little Bitty in the Syracuse city neighborhood of Eastwood, I have one final post of photos to share, pictures too good to languish forever merely in my copy roll. Or so I think. You can tell me your opinions at the end of this last potpourri.
Before the ship even departs, everybody must show up under their designated rescue boat for the muster drill. A crew member seriously tells you what to do if the bad things happen. You can see our resume boat up over us. Your sea pass is scanned to make sure you are present for the drill. Everybody stands in a tight line and waits as the final few stubborn passengers’ names are called out over the PA until they get to their designated emergency area.
FYI, by this time, I’ve had a Pina Colada and a wine at the pool deck bar, and am cracking wise with my new friends that will be on the same rescue boat as us! My dear wife Karen pretends maybe she does not know me.
This scene played out at the pool deck bar the very first afternoon. The man sitting to the right of us engaged my dear wife Karen and I in a very serious conversation about why he was on the cruise by himself. Work was so tense! He was a tele-poll manager, and the industry was dying. He had set this scene up in front of him. I did not bring it up in the conversation.
What’s a cruise without a good, new-fashioned photo bomb. This one is courtesy of one of our cruise buddies, at least. Thanks, Jim!
This ship broke its karaoke up into a several-night contest. I did not choose to participate this time around. I did think that the sports-bar setting looked cool as we watched the singers the night we waited to get into the adjacent ice rink.
This band that played just about very afternoon on pool deck 11 interested me. One set they’d lay out soothing island rhythms. The next they’d crank out solid hard rock like Led Zeppelin. A third would be classic Top 40 rock and folks would be singing along to Journey. I made sure to catch their eye on a set break and offer my compliments. I also found it interesting the afternoon when they stopped on a dime mid-song when an emergency code went out over the PA. A minute later the medical crew wheeled by an old gent who may have passed out whom they’d hooked up to some oxygen. He was trailed by an anxious female traveling partner. Once he was past the stage, the band picked up the song.
The Quest played out in the ice rink. Sections battled each other. The ice was covered. Cruise director Cuddy barked out odd and somewhat suggestive orders and participants sprung to action in this Royal Caribbean International tradition. Cuddy got a great kick out of judging, and watching, and commenting on his microphone. He liked to seem surprised at what they’d do. But he knew. Oh, we all knew.\
On the last morning, we ate a final breakfast in the Windjammer Cafe and watched porters pull luggage out of the ship.
Veterans of the departure process, we had not set ours out of our rooms the night before, all deciding from experience it easier to pull them behind us than hunt for them in the massive piles down below.
Back to where we had started, I thought.
Little did I know at that moment that Hurricane Matthew would bellow through this very part of our land less than two weeks later.
Which part of the cruise series was your favorite, and why? Which potpourri photo was your favorite, and why? Which series photo was your favorite, and why?