6 October 2005:

Sailing off the coast of New England about 300 miles east of New York; very calm seas and bright sunshine overhead, but we are encased in fog….a low sea-hugging mist that makes it impossible to see out our balcony. But, if you go up to the upper decks you start to break out of it and can see the beginning of blue sky overhead.

The sea is a harsh mistress, and to save lives and prevent the loss of shipping certain ‘Rules of the Sea’ have been established. Some of these Maritime Rules are hard and fast rules known by all who sail…such as which ship has the right-of-way when two ships are trying to negotiate the same narrow channel. Other rules are less well known and have some leeway in their exact interpretation. But the one thing that all these rules have in common is that they exist for your safety and that you violate these rules at your own risk. In an informal conversation that I struck up with one of the deck hands today I was told about a recent violation of the Maritime Rules by one of my fellow passengers. This passenger was guilty of violating Maritime Rule Number 99. The exact wording of this rule varies from ship to ship but generally speaking the rule states: “that while on a ship traveling at 20 knots into a head wind that was also about 20 knots, if you experience motion sickness you may find relief while leaning over the starboard side railing, you may find relief while leaning over the port side railing, and you may find relief while leaning over the aft railing, but under no circumstances should you find relief while leaning over the bow railing”. As you would expect the passenger suffered the full indignity and public humiliation of violating Rule Number 99. As I said, the sea is a harsh mistress….and sometimes she provides amusement for deck hands who are tired of the whining of pampered passengers. (Please note: I was trying to be careful of people’s sensitivities since I am copying this message to ladies….but for any of you that did not understand the previous story: for clarity, you may substitute any of the following terms for ‘find relief’: puke, barf, blow lunch, up-chuck, vomit, regurgitate, throw up, heave, be sick or worship the porcelain goddess….with that added information and a little knowledge of how air flow affects a ballistic trajectory you should be able to figure it out.)

Note to Dale Matthews: Yes, the bagpipe player was playing ‘Amazing Grace’ as one of his songs. No, he did not accompany the hearse…..unless, of course, the bagpipe player was the ghost of the recently departed…..it could be.

Note to Gary Guenther: I saw your ghost message, but haven’t downloaded the large file yet. I will as soon as I’m off the boat and not paying $0.35 a minute to connect to the internet. But I’m sure that once I do see it, my comments will be the same as Dale’s.

Note to Pam Jones-Williams: I pride myself on my consistency of alcohol consumption. While at sea I try to maintain a blood alcohol level that is at least three times the legal limit on land. This is not always easy. It requires hard work and dedication. Not all of the 16 bars onboard the ship are open all the time. Occasionally, during off hours, you have to scramble from stem to stern and deck to deck to find one that is open and isn’t too crowded. And don’t even get me started talking about the Great Panic of Last Tuesday. That was when the Atrium Bar got down to its last bottle of Jack Daniels. I thought there would be a riot. My reaction was to dash to the Wheelhouse Bar and purchase a bottle for my room. But I wasn’t alone in my vigilance. Others followed suit and soon we had a full fledged ‘Bourbon Panic’. Little old men with canes and walkers were fighting each other in the halls trying to be the first ones in line for the next bottle. The carnage was only brought under control by an announcement from the Commodore that another 10 cases had been brought up from the ship’s hold. It turned out that what we thought was a shortage of liquor was just an oversight by the bartender in restocking his shelf.  The Mutiny was averted. 

Disco Man: I’ve sighted this guy three times now. The first time I thought maybe he was one of the onboard entertainers, but it turns out he is a passenger. He is a short, portly, mustachioed man in his late fifties or early sixties with dark hair….unnaturally, Ronald Regan-ish dark hair that seems to have been perm’ed into a wave. He is normally dressed in a bright colored, open-collar silk or satin shirt with the top three buttons undone and wearing a dark jacket. He has a minimum of three, and up to six, gold chains around his neck; each chain dangling some kind of gold or stone pendant. He has three very large gold rings on one hand, four on the other and a bracelet on each wrist. He is accompanied by a striking young woman with very long, dark hair who appears to be at least 20 and possibly 30 years younger than him. I christened him Disco Man when I first saw him. He seemed to have made an impression on other as well…..I’ve overheard another passenger in the dining room tell a friend: “Look, there goes the Gold Ring Guy”.  I think he must have gone to see “Saturday Night Fever” one too many times. But I do plan to look for him tonight…..tonight is our last formal night and I want to see what he’ll be wearing when he’s really putting on the dog.

We went to the ‘Culinary Demonstration’ and galley tour today. It is not a real cooking demonstration; mainly it’s a chance for the cooks, waiters and other food service people to put on a show, blow off some steam and make fun of each other while entertaining the passengers. Then after the show they herd you through one of the kitchens so you can see where your meals are prepared, while giving you little factoids such as “How many dirty dishes are washed onboard each day? Answer: 75,000” or “How much coffee is brewed each morning for breakfast? Answer: 450 gallons”. 

As I mentioned in the opening, we now have very calm seas and low winds which make for a very smooth ride. But we are still having a little trouble walking a straight line down the hallways……note: this problem exists even at breakfast, before we’ve had the first Drink of the Day. The reason is that after so long a time in rough seas…..it seems like weeks….we’ve become accustomed to the pitching deck and now that its steady we haven’t adapted to it yet.

A very uneventful day….so I think I’ll put this message (and myself) to bed.