We're frequently asked how we adapt to such a lengthy period at sea (the trip totals about 3 1/2 months). Some queries are more incredulous than others: "How can you stand it?". "Don't you go berserk?". Most are more inquisitive: "What is there to do?", "Don't you get bored?"
In fact, life on board is quite agreeable. Just as on land, one settles into a certain ritual. We humans are quite adaptable creatures (Kathy would argue that women are adaptable, guys are still working their way up the evolutionary chain from apes, so we just grunt frequently but ultimately put up with our lot).
Anyway, there is a set of things you do each day with little variance: awaken, eat a simi liar breakfast to what you had yesterday, read the Boston Globe. So let's compare and contrast the Boston-area day with the current day at sea:
A Day in The Life
| |
Hudson, NH (42N, 72W) |
Day at Sea |
| 7:00 |
Awaken (Scott) |
Awaken (Scott) |
|
Make coffee |
Fetch coffee or order room service |
|
Check the email |
Queue up email to send later from ship's computer |
| 8:00 |
Awaken (Kathy) |
Awaken (Kathy) |
| 8:30 |
Remind Kathy she wanted to get up |
Remind Kathy she wanted to get up |
|
Read the newspapers |
Check CNN (when available). [And we get a crappy printed afternoon news summary] |
|
Make breakfast |
Fetch breakfast from buffet or restaurant |
|
Attend to household chores |
Figure out where to hang out while Robin-the-Cabin-Steward attends to cabin "chores" (we pick up the previous day's clothes from the floor... sometimes) |
| 9:45 |
Research our next trip via Internet |
Attend a lecture about the Cook Islands; savor an espresso. |
| 10:30 |
Read until lunch |
Read until lunch |
| 12:00 |
Make lunch |
Fetch lunch (buffet or table service) |
| 12:45 |
Take a post-luncheon walk in the current blizzard; get accosted by a fellow condo owner because their driveway wasn't plowed soon enough |
Put on a hat and some sunblock for a walk on the Sun Deck; get "accosted" by an attractive Bar Waiter, who thinks a piña colada would be in order. |
| 2:00 |
Nap (awaken by snowplow noises) |
Nap (oversleep due to cradle-like feeling of ship gently rocking in the surf) |
| 5:00 |
Listen to National Public Radio |
We miss this. We fetch our email instead and upload any web updates we've written (this one, for example) |
| 5:00 |
Start preparing dinner |
Happy Hour starts in our cabin; today's special is pisco sour. (It's not NPR but it'll have to do) |
| 8:00 |
Eat dinner |
Eat dinner (8:30-10:00) and compare our days, with our tablemates' |
| 9:00 |
Clean up from dinner |
Eat dessert. |
| 10:00 |
Read in bed |
Read in bed (or go to a show) |
In summary: eat, sleep, entertain. Repeat. Sort of like, home.
So, Ms. Cruise Ship, tell me a little about yourself
Cruise ships are a bit like people: they have personalities. Some are small and friendly, others large and impersonal. Some treat you like family, others like exalted guests.
For some ships, the cruise is about the ship: a return to the luxury of bygone days. A floating city with every possible amenity, where were you would be "scolded" if you were to be seen doing a "Servant's" job -- say grabbing your own refill of coffee.
Much as we enjoy a little luxury, this style of service is decidedly not our style -- we weren't brought up that way. This ship, MV Discovery, is somewhere between the "treat your guests like family" ("oh, the coffee -- it's right over there") and the fawning "Back AWAY from the coffee pot, Sir, your Server will be with you momentarily". It's a reasonable compromise.
Almost the entire crew is Philippino. They're young and energetic, are delighted to hear that Kathy and I have been to their country and enjoyed it.
Destinations: Obscure and Wondrous
As we said earlier, for some cruises (and Cruisers), it's all about the ship. For the Discovery line, it's about the destinations, and that's why we ultimately decided to splurge on this relatively expensive (for us) trip. Other ships cruise around Antarctica, but never touch land. We launched on 12-person zodiac boats and headed for the penguins.
Our Fellow Passengers
Of course, the passengers have a collective personality, too, and this, after the actual destinations, is the most important aspect of how much we'll enjoy the cruise. Our cruise of 104 days is broken down into about 7 segments, each of about 2 weeks. The passenger complement so far has varied between about 500 and about 650, with a large number just doing the Antarctic segment (ending Valparaiso) and another large group from Valpo to Auckland. In those two segments the number of Americans has dropped, Canadians risen, and Brits have taken over the lead, followed by New Zealanders and a few Australians. Many, artery-clogging, English breakfasts are seen each morning.
Two things unite the passengers across their many countries:
1) Age (we'd guess the average passenger is 65-70, with several in their 80s). Sort of like traveling with your parents, but you don't have to eat with them every night (and, no curfew). We are without question the youngest passengers on the ship.
2) Vast travel experience. Never have we met so many people, who have been to so many places -- in some cases so many times (3 times to Antarctica?)
What are we missing?
We miss... our friends and family (but we don't see the latter that often anyway, and we're in email touch with all). Public Radio. The few TV shows we would watch (we're not even recording them; the cable TV service is on vacation-stop). Constant access to the world via internet. We could use a little more cabin space. Scott's culinary artistry (could we just have pizza tonight?). Inexplicably, we are missing our dog anew, even though he met his demise nearly two years ago.
So there you have it. Six weeks down (as of March 8, 2006), about eight to go. We haven't gone berserk. We have gained a few pounds.
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