Monday, 13 May 2019
At sea north of Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada
Such is the silence and the stability of the ship can’t tell if it’s actually moving or not when I wake up. Have sailed through the Johnstone Strait overnight and now in open sea north of Vancouver Island.
Dead calm.
Just how I like it.
Only wanting a coffee for breakfast, venture up to the drinks station in the Lido Buffet on deck 9. What a scrum. Morbidly obese stuffing their faces with plates piled high of muffins, waffles, omelettes, bacon, sausages. Ever heard of portion control?
Grab a coffee and retire to the oasis of calm that is the Explorer’s Lounge. Review which excursions I want to do when we dock in Ketchikan tomorrow, Juneau on Wednesday and Skagway on Thursday. Ridiculously expensive but it’s a captive market and as I’ve not had time to do any research and make my own plans, a ship organised tour it is.
Full day at sea, so spend some time catching up on diary and blog in the Explorer’s Lounge. A quiet library like area. Young family come in and Dad starts browsing the ship’s intranet on the computer with Mum. Whiny kid, of about 9 years old, starts kicking off. He’s bored. Starts whining that he wants to see Alaska now. Mum & Dad ignore him. He becomes whinier and whinier. He’s clearly not the full shilling. Whine. Whine. Whine. I want to see Alaska now. He whines. Crying now. Needs a clip around the ear. Which I’d be happy to give if he continues disrupting my peaceful morning. Take note of him, dear reader, as he will feature in tomorrow’s blog.
Venture once again to the Lido buffet. All I want is a quick light salad for lunch. Trying to avoid over eating. Join the queue. Staggering to see how much people can eat. I’m a big bloke but I couldn’t eat all of what I see some people put away. For breakfast, lunch and dinner. Crikey. So busy up here that people tend to reserve a table by putting a jumper or a book on the seat, wander off to get food and then come back to a vacant spot. One grumpy old bloke thought he’d it made it clear he had reserved a table by putting down his glass of water on the table. Disgruntled to find that someone had taken the seat. Like Victor Meldrew, has a hissy fit at the elderly couple now sitting at ‘his’ table, telling them they’re rude. He’s winding himself up and wonder if he’s going to have a heart attack over it. He’s that wound up by this slightest thing. Trouble is, it’s very difficult to establish if a table is ‘reserved’ or not if you just put a glass of water down. If you’re going to reserve a table and make it ‘yours’, you need to go full on German and put the towels out.
Hope my German readers laugh at that.
There’s a lot of old folk with walking sticks, scooters, strollers and oxygen tanks. A lot of oxygen tanks. The crippled, infirm, elderly, blind and disabled all trundle past.
It’s like a floating nursing home.
Each day, the ship’s onboard activities are left in cabin. Was struggling to understand who Bill W was and why he had so many friends that needed to meet until an old friend; an old friend as in longevity rather than being old, well, OK, she’s no spring chicken, but she’s not ancient just yet (hope she’s laughing?!); texts to say that if I see any meetings for Bill W that’s the Alcoholics Anonymous group. Ah. I see.
Do you know what the difference is between alcoholics and drunks?
Us drunks don’t go to meetings.
She also advises that if I see meetings for Friends of Dorothy then that’s the LGBTQ, and any other consonants, meeting of lesbians, homosexuals and other deviations. So I won’t be going to that meeting either.
Gala Dinner Night tonight.
Yep.
Chance for people to get all dressed up.
Except.
This particular explorer has nothing to wear. Apart from rapidly fading jeans and a heavily creased shirt out of his rucksack. Miss Vancouver’s hospitality didn’t extend to ironing my shirts for me. A blot on her otherwise pristine copybook.
Wanting to sit at the same table as last night, find it’s already reserved. Placed on a nearby table. You can only book a particular table two nights in advance. Push the maitre d’ to see if he will book my favourite table all the way through to the end of the cruise. With a bit of pushing and persuasion, he does so. Taurean charm you see. Or was it just to get rid of me?
There’s some rare shapes and sizes on this cruise. It’s apparent there’s two types of passenger on this ship. There’s a white middle class set who tend to gravitate to the fine dining restaurant and the smaller bars, and attend the concerts and theatrical entertainment. Then there’s the other type that confine themselves to deck 9, with the swimming pool, all you can eat buffet and smoking area. You get my drift.
As the black comedian jokes in tonight’s set, cruising’s a white persons pastime.
He’s not wrong.
