“ALL (1,486) ABOARD!”
I finally find Sandra in a line of about fifty people waiting to get in the terminal.
We wait in a short line to get our ‘$ail & $ign’ card. It's our ship’s credit card for everything we’ll purchase while on board. “Now do we--?” I start to ask. “Next line, sir.”
We slowly walk another corridor, the carry on is tried from being picked up and down and wants to rest when I hear a voice, “Smile and look into the camera.” A digital picture is taken. We never see it, but I find out later it’s to verify who we are when we disembark and return to the ship at the foreign port of calls.
We walk down a long hallway, I look out the window and see a huge white wall, then realize it’s the side of the ‘Celebration.’ “Sleep!” my body is crying. “No way,” my mind replies, “It’s full steam ahead.”
To Close For Comfort
We cross the gangplank and step aboard at 2:40, twenty minutes before the ship departs. The troubles of the last 30 hours are forgotten. We enter a large room, and surprise! I hear the lady behind me cry “Another line?” It’s comforting other people are feeling the same way I do.
I gaze round. The room is decorated with what looks like pre-Las Vagas era furniture. I spot the ‘Shore Excursions’ desk. The line looks like 1,284 people are already making their reservations for what they plan to do in Cozumel.
Logic is in our berth, probably asleep. Maybe we can catch up with him there. I hate to wake him, but-- Sandra suggests we find our cabin and drop the carry on. I grab some excursion pamphlets and follow.
Paradise Lost?
I insert our plastic key card in the electric lock. Nothing! It doesn’t work, the door won’t open. I don't remember who gave us the card, do we have to go back thru the lines to exchange it for the right one? So close... but so far away.
- Please, help us get in our cabin in chapter 4 -
Chapter 4
To Close for Comfort-part two
“Let me try.” He places the card in the slot, a little green LED light turned red. He turns the handle down, and opens the door. He smiles as he hands me the key. “There you are sir.” I needed to see how it worked. I closed the door and tried. The light stayed green. I jiggled the handle. Nothing.
“Push the key in more,” Tennysion patiently watches.
I pushed. Finally the green light morphes to red, the same shade as my face.
“Your first cruise?” he says politely, his eyes wondering between Sandra and me.
“Our luggage?” I impolitely interrupt, “I don’t see our luggage.”
“It should be here soon, I’ll go look for it.” He bowed, turned and disappeared.
The cabin was nice, comforable looking, and better then some hotels we've stayed. The two single beds looked inviting as sleep called to sleep. Sandra went to the window, pulled the curtains to reveal a 4’ x 3’ ‘square’ porthole.
Flash forward: Chapter 935. Page 10,094
Flash forward: Chapter 1,232 Page 102,114
Flash forward: Chapter 2,093 Page 1,198,052
Flash back to the past present.
An announcement blared from somewhere out in the hall, “A lifeboat drill will be conducted at 3:30. Please report to your muster station with your floatation vests at that time. Thank you.”
“We’d better go find it,” Sandra said. “If trying to locate our station takes as long as trying to find our room we’d better leave now.” I looked at the bed, “Don’t go anywhere.”
"Pass The Muster, Please!"
“The vests are simple to put on,” the female crewmember said, demonstrating. “Head goes thru the vest. One strap around the waist, the other under and between your legs, click the snaps. Easy!”
I put my head thru the vest. Good so far. I reach around for a strap. It plays ‘tag’ with me each time I attempt to grab at it. “Catch me if you can!” it says. I know, I’ll do a 360 spin and catch it on the rebound. Hah, I’m smarter than the average belt. I whirl. The belt knocks over an empty drinking glass sitting on a table. This no average strap.
Sandra reaches over and ‘tags’ it for me. Click. One down, one to go. I think I’ll catch the crouch belt by jumping up and down. Before I launch Sandra reaches for it and fastens the snap. “There!” she says.
Adjust the belts, tighten, then loosen, tighten some more.
A loud horn blows several quick times, like getting a telephone busy signal, except it sounds ten million times louder. ”That’s the signal,” the crewmember says, “to go to your cabin, get your vest and report back here.” She points to the bar lounge. "That ladies and gentilmen, concludes our drill. Enjoy your cruise!"
I don’t know how many people fit in one lifeboat, but I look around our muster station and see about fifty people. Imagine fifty people trying to get to ‘C’ after passing thru ‘A’,‘B’,‘D’, and ‘E’ with fifty people at EACH of those stations all in a calm manner while the ship is sinking.
The bus driver shakes me, "Mister, this where you get off."
"What? Huh?" My eyes try to open, my mind stays in a coma, "Cozumel already?" I look around.
He points to a building, "Go in there, get on the ship. Make a left at the first island you come to. You can't miss it."
I pick up the eight-pound carry on and move a little, then drop it. I hadn't noticed how heavy eight pounds is.
We wait in line to get on the escalator. Stepping on it, we made good time. For the next hour we would not move as fast.
We wait in a line of 1,000 people ahead of us to go thru the X-ray/metal detector.
I turn and see the remaining 484 people of the total passenger list behind us.
We walk to another line dragging the carry on, it feels like it's gained twenty pounds. I look around. This line, I think, is longer than the others combined.
Pick up/drop the carry on (I swear it weights a hundred pounds by now) twenty thousand eight hundred times before we get to the check-in desk.
It’s here our tickets/reservations/paperwork is verified. The man at the counter is polite, “I need to see your drivers licenses and a credit card, please.”
While Sandra shows hers, I pull my license out, "WHAT?" I find the missing credit card I thought I’d lost earlier.
We hand them over. He looks at them, and us carefully, then types at the keyboard. He waits for a reply, “The system is slow today." He says it like it's the first time ever. "Your first cruise, Mr. And Mrs. Speegle? I’ll bet your excited.”
Sandra tells him it’s for our 25th anniversary. “How wonderful, and congratulations!” He types some more. “Sorry for the delay.”
I look behind me, there’s now only 200 people behind us. I catch my eyes closing, do a quick head jerk.
“Celebrating a little early?” he smiles and winks. I want to tell him want we’ve had to go thru the past twenty-nine hours but 'Reasoning' visits me temporarily, checks in, then leaves again. He told me it’d be best not to say anything. I'd try to smile, but my cheeks are too tired.
“There you are, you’re confirmed!” He smiles and hands us our paperwork, licenses and credit card. I make a special mental note where I put each. I grab at the three hundred pound carry on, “Can we go aboard now?”
“Soon Mr. Speegle. Next line down, please.”
Sandra and I talk, “Do we make ours out now, or should we wait? What do we want to do? What if everything is booked up later?”
One deck down we try to find our cabin, the 82nd of 138. “There’s R81 and R83, here’s 85, where’s 82? Are we on the right deck?” I see a sign, ‘ODD’ number addresses are on one side of the ship, ‘EVEN’ on the other.
We head for the other side stepping over luggage sound asleep while others are resting and waiting to get in their rooms.
“R80… R82. Here we are.” I look up and down the hallway, “Where’s our luggage? I don’t see our luggage!” The six-ton carry on may have been worth the trouble after all.
I try the card key again. The door still refuses to open. A young man wearing a starch white uniform walks up. He introduces himself as ‘Tennysion’ he’ll be our cabin steward.
“Our key doesn’t work!” I tell him. “I’ve had this problem before at hotels. They’ve ALWAYS had to reprogram the key.”
“Yes” Sandra says, and she’s was off telling him about this being our 25th anniversary but leaving out the ‘long drive/no sleep for thirty hours/car trouble/no motels available/live boiled shrimp’ episodes.
I see a phone, table with the ships stationary, an ice bucket already stocked with ice, three bottles of cola and two waters. A note informs us the sodas are $3.50 each and waters $4, and would be conveniently charged to our sail & sign card, if used.
So we have say good-bye to cabin R82, our home for five beautiful and wonderful days. As I look around one last time for my missing green socks and one sneaker, I bumped my head on the table holding the three $3.50 sodas and two $4 waters.
Leaving the $20 (each) towels with the ‘Celebration’s’ logo, and $3.50 sodas and $4 waters behind, we said good-bye.”
But I still wondered why there wasn’t a charge for the floatation vest, could it mean they are really ours to keep?
Over the table was a large mirror looking back. I saw my reflection again. I looked worn and haggard, like 500 miles of bad road, under it that is. It was no wonder that waiter topside asked me if I “Want another drink?” and I replied, “I’d have to have a FIRST one, before I could have ANOTHER.”
I see the TV hanging on the wall. Night stand with the TV remote, a ship newspaper, and two hidden floatation vests labeled ‘Celebration R82’ and ‘C’.
The bathroom was bigger than we’d heard about. The three foot vanity mirror was stocked with sleeping aids, beauty masks, razors, shampoo, and anti-acids. Plenty of soft towels ($20 each) with the ‘Celebration’ logo. The shower was big enough for two (don’t ask). The toilet didn’t flush, it sucked (don’t ask, but think ‘liposuction’).
Five muster stations later, we found ours. ‘C’ as designated by our vest. I consult our ship’s deck map, five decks up, third from the top, next to a bar.
“Great,” I thought, “If we hit an iceberg and where ever we happen to be on the ship, all we have to do is find our cabin, get our vests, go up five flights of stairs, the elevators won’t work, of course, pass four muster stations already filled with people in ‘panic mode,’ get thru the madness happing there, get to our station just in time for passengers ‘R82’ to drown.” This is going to be an exciting trip.
I look around to see if other people are having the same problem. Some are, most aren’t.
It’s loose fitting, I raise my hand getting the crew members attention, “I need a size 40 Large vest,” I tell her.
“Ahh, one size fits all, sir.”
I’m thinking all of this is happening in a calm situation. Lord knows what it would be like with the ship sinking and water over our heads.
I notice a transparent plastic pill bottle shape container attached to the vest, and realize it’s a strobe light. It reads “Activates on contact with water, do not attempt to remove battery.” I don’t see a battery. I inspect the vest closer. Flare gun? No! Shark repellant? I raise my hand again, "Where’s the flare gun and shark repellant?" For some reason, she ignores me.
“Yes, it’s going to be an exciting trip.”