Welcome Aboard

For a couple of months last year there were nearly daily reports of some catastrophe on board a Carnival cruise. Earlier this year both Royal Caribbean and Princess cruises announced outbreaks of flu among their passengers.  So, why would anyone ever want to go on a cruise? Well, that’s where we are.

Deb and I standing on the beach at Catalina Island
with the Carnival Inspiration (our ship) in the background.

Prior to this week our daughters, siblings and most of our friends had been on at least one cruise; but, not Deb and me.  When friends, who have been at sea around twenty times before, invited us to join them on a special Carnival promotion ($73 apiece—the taxes per passenger), we could hold out no longer.

We rode with Jim and Sue to the port in Long Beach. A porter took our luggage. He was the last person we needed to tip since the cruise line automatically charges a daily tip rate ($11.50 per day per person) to our credit card. It was also the last cash I needed to use except for the beer and nachos on Catalina Island and the taco and churro at Ensenada.

Looking up at the ship's atrium.

Before we boarded the ship we had our picture taken a dozen times. We have had our picture taken a couple hundred times more and who knows how many more before we disembark for the final time tomorrow.  One gets the feel of being a celebrity but more red carpet style than paparazzi.  For example, today when we got off to visit Ensenada a pirate placed a parrot on my shoulder and a mermaid put her arm around my waist—no long lenses or chasing us down a street.

Once aboard on Monday, before the safety drill and firing up the engines, we found ourselves in the brasserie piling mounds of food on our plates. I had not even finished my third pasta salad when a waiter asked if he could get me something else. Then, swiftly got it and removed my empty plates. It would only get better.

A guest flew in to join us for the sunset.

At dinner the young man who waited on me at lunch became one of two assistant waiters who worked with our evening waiter to make sure our plates were never empty and our soiled dishes were immediately removed. My meal began with a fairly ordinary dinner roll, but quickly moved ahead to roasted butternut squash soup, flatbread, fried calamari, Caesar salad and a flaky salmon filet with a miso sauce delicately spread over it. I barely squeezed in the cobbler before we had to hurry from one end of the ship to the other for first time cruisers entertainment orientation. The cruise director introduced a couple comedians, who did a few minutes of their family friendly routines and a song and dance troupe that recaptured the Motown sound and ended their performance in the ship’s atrium, an open area with glass elevators running from the seventh to the twelfth deck. Deb and I checked out the twelfth deck because it has the gym where I would attempt the next three mornings to work off some of the calories ingested the previous night.

Tuesday, while the ship stayed at sea, we gavea couple of trivia contests—pop tunes and movie themes—a try and an art auction, where we sipped free champagne but failed to make a single bid. Then, we dressed for our elegant—khakis and a button down shirt—dinner. Since I didn’t eat the prime rib I had two lobster tails, and I had a roasted vegetable pie instead of the customary side dishes. No matter what I wanted the wait staff served it with a flourish and a smile.

Wednesday, I drove a golf cart around Catalina and today we boarded a bus through Ensenada and to Labufadora, the blowhole that didn’t blow—our biggest disappointment. We’ve been treated so well the whole time we feel like royalty, or at least Republicans.