Indoor downpour
Labadee, Haiti, was sunny and blue for the Wonder of the Seas' first-ever call on its news-making inaugural cruise. Unfortunately for the world's largest cruise ship, the dry weather conditions outside didn't also apply inside. While most passengers were in port, those onboard witnessed a man-made downpour on the retail-dotted Royal Promenade. The torrential rain caused by malfunctioning fire sprinklers led to the massive fire doors coming down and temporary closures. That the shops and bars reopened mere hours after such a deluge was a water-displacing miracle almost on the level of Moses parting the Red Sea.
Bed check
No water was dripping from above my twin bed, and yet upon my return to my Carnival Inspiration cabin, in the very spot that would make one question their bladder control, was a nasty stain. No way was that there before housekeeping came by, leading me and my cousin to wonder if the cabin steward was using soiled sheets and how he didn't notice. As we vacated the room so that a different attendant could remake the bed, I felt compelled to leave a note on my pillow that read, “Wasn't me!”
Lost in translation
The Croatian photographer aboard the Celebrity Solstice wanted my wife and me to pose in front of a plain, green screen backdrop on elegant night. When asked what image would become the background, he said, “Sheep. Both of you will be in front of sheep.” He was surprised by my perplexed expression. “What a strange backdrop for an Alaskan cruise. A moose makes more sense than a sheep,” I told the heavily accented photographer. Fortunately, a man who was eavesdropping chimed in. “He's saying `ship,' not `sheep!' The background will be our ship!” the passenger said. We all shared in the biggest laugh of the cruise.
Going old school
Apparently, the maitre d' of the Carnival Valor didn't get the memo that sexism is frowned upon by the world's largest cruise line and pretty much all of Western society. So, how shocking it was to hear him take the mic and welcome guests of the main dining room on the first night with, “All you women must be excited. No more cooking and no more cleaning!” Perhaps our dinner host was getting in the spirit of Carnival's upcoming 50th anniversary, acting as if it was 1972 instead of a month shy of 2022.
Look out below!
Exploring the Majesty of the Seas before sail-away to Cuba, my boys and I discovered that a section of the ship's ceiling had fallen onto the carpet and the panel from where it came was dangling dangerously above. So, naturally, we decided to prank passersby by having one of my sons appear knocked out with a head injury. Not a single crew member walked by in the 10 minutes my oldest son lay on the floor with a piece of ship on his skull, and the guests who did notice seemed more concerned about getting to the buffet.
No Danish for you
Was it too much to ask the Germany-based crew of the Viking Spirit for a table for two on the night of our 20th anniversary? Apparently so, because we were told no despite five tables sitting unused in the dining room. “That section is closed,” the hostess said without an apology or best wishes on our marital milestone. The river cruise from Paris to Normandy was wrought with such rudeness. The Danish pastry that was hyped at the welcome reception was gone by 6 a.m. on the first morning. “All I see are crumbs,” I told guest services. “The crew ate them,” the purser said with a smirk. “But they're baking more, right?” I asked, to which she snapped back, “No — you have to get up really early!” Six in the morning isn't early enough? And what's with the crew eating our food?