A sailor went to sea

 

“A sailor went to sea sea sea 

to see what he could see see see…”

Overnight we cruised 360 miles out from Nassau, Grand Bahama and still had 420 miles to cruise to reach San Juan, Puerto Rico.  I found myself enjoying the 79 degree sunshine at the railings edge staring out at the deep blue sea.  16,000 feet deep actually, to quote Captain Urlich, although his clipped Norwegian accent was sometimes difficult to understand over the loudspeaker.

Promenade Deck

The promenade deck was deserted in comparison to our pre departure muster when every passenger and staff member had all lined up to be counted.  With the sounds of Titanic flute music in my ears I gripped on tightly to the varnished wooden rail and wondered how cold the water was.  The peace of the days at sea should have been a tranquil backdrop to the days ashore.  However, the program of events ranged from ballroom dancing to bridge and painting to panting around the running track.  There would be no time to spare, but it did prove that life without the Internet was still possible.  The kids embraced the on board activities with enthusiasm and managed to cover roller blading, rock climbing, ice skating and mini-golf all before lunch.

 

Roller blade track

I was invited along as the mandatory guardian required to sign them in and out and take responsibility for the liability.  Oh and of course for the unavoidable "hold this mom" and fulfill the role of photographer.  I charmed my way into the diamond lounge, a specially reserved room and balcony at the top most level, it was the perfect place to take photos of the kids scaling the climbing wall.  I’m sure the steward only let me in to bring down the average age.  I was quite disappointed to find that behind the locked door the sacred sanctuary wasn’t much different than the piano bar.  Although the folks sequestered within did share a camaraderie of old friends and stared in unison as I sidled in.  Undoubtedly they wondered how such a 'youngster' as myself had racked up their level of ocean going seniority.

Gradually, I was beginning to understand the hierarchy of cruising.  Each higher rung on the ladder was achieved with increasing numbers of nights at sea.  This was not merely rest and relaxation this was a whole under world of points and rewards and membership entitlements.  As  virginal cruisers we often elicited fond indulgent smiles from the throng of professional sailors.  It was as if they were sentimentally remembering their first voyage.  Many folks showed concern that for our first trip we were attempting to cross the Atlantic.  In truth I hadn’t given it much thought other than we would achieve our goal of getting from America to England.  I took a big gulp and was reminded of the time someone had worriedly questioned my intelligence in flying from sea level up to 13,000 feet on the same day.  Back then we had ended up squabbling over an oxygen machine, was there a solution for rough seas?  After being told at dinner that on every cruise someone always dies and/or goes overboard I was starting to question my parenting ability and our group avoidance of home school was dangling on my conscience.

With Greg and therefore the English History department absent, I had been adamant that we would at least cover some math and every day I threatened we would start 'tomorrow'.  I was optimistic we could still fit some education in between water painting and lunch.  I was passing off science as oceanology, which would hopefully be infused through osmosis if the kids stood by the railing long enough.

P.E was pretty well covered. Even I'd manged to squeeze in a morning spin class at the gym and was optimistically scheduled to return for Pilates in the afternoon.  I knew that it would only be a matter of time before I would succumb to  the vast array of desserts. 

Although on a positive note the higher calorie lifestyle would at least give me a chance to win the International belly flop competition at the main pool tomorrow.  I had my bets on Fritz, a larger Bavarian bruiser, but there were also a couple of Irishmen with large guts and real technique.  To keep up with such a demanding timetable I thought it best to take a shady moment on a starboard fore deckchair and study the back of my eyelids for a while.

"Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, 

of just going along, 

listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering." 

Pooh's Little Instruction Book, A.A. Milne

Not lost in Atlantis

 "Either never, or very seldom, do the quiet actions in life appear to be better than the quick and energetic ones."

Plato

It was wonderful to return to the "laid back land" of the Bahamas and arriving on a boat way larger than last time seemed an incredible luxury.  This island nation has to be one of my favorite places in the world.  Maybe its because I readily relate to the English, African and America cultures that have blended here amongst the golden sands and palm trees. 

Nassau, Paradise Island, Bahamas

Nassau was our first stop and the home port for our ship, "Adventure of the Seas".  I had prebooked a shore excursion for the water park and had successfully managed to keep the tickets safe.  Did this mean Atlantis was not lost?

 Atlantis

As we shuttled away from the port, I viewed with smiling familiarity the slightly run down colorful clapboard houses.  These homes morphed into perfect 'Disneyfied' replicas once we drove within the perimeter of Atlantis Resort. We followed the immaculately manicured lawns further into vacation land.  Continuing on foot we were guided through the casino and out into the magical world of Atlantis.

Paradise Lagoon

The man made lagoon mystically lapped against the shores of several hotels and in the distance a Mayan Tower loomed into view.  I suddenly experienced a strong sense of déja vu and was transported back almost 20 years to Sun City in Africa.  Little wonder I made the visual connection considering both places were the concept of Sol Kerzner, South African hotelier.

Lagoon Bar and Grill

In mythology, the Greek Gods bequeathed the fabled isle to Poseidon.  His son, Atlas, was made king of the island and the surrounding body of water - the Atlantic Ocean.  After earthquake and flood the island was said to have vanished beneath the sea. Modern day Atlantis also has it's legends.  The Bridge Suite in the Royal Tower's is fabled to cost $25,000 per night with a four night minimum.  Luckily I only had to pay for an overpriced locker for the day.

Chlorine waterfalls

The kids were in chlorine heaven and between plunging down slides they surged around on the not so lazy river.  They even managed to talk me into to taking a "Leap of Faith".  I  certainly underwent a religious experience when I dropped 60 feet straight down a perspex tunnel through a shark infested pool.

Long ago I heard of Sol’s famed tunnel that took you under the ocean to walk with sharks, fish and all manner of sea creatures.

It turned out to be somewhat of an anticlimax for me and I couldn’t help notice the build up of algae on the Perspex.

Perhaps I had waited too long to savor the delights Sol had on offer and Atlantis had aged conversely to my expectations.

Atlantis Beach

Tiring of the man made channels of the lazy river I went in search of access to the beach and the feel of salt water against my skin. Its not that the grass is always greener in the Bahamas, but the water is definitely bluer.  Along the way we channeled through the lunch queue and I ordered conch fritters in rebellion against the fast food mindset of this make believe world of Atlantis. I wanted to taste something completely Bahamian.

Watching the seagulls free in their flight I was drawn to walk to the end of the beach away from the mass tourism and took a moment of introspection.

Gazing seaward, I dreamt a dream of sailing a smaller boat while worrying about the time and getting back on board the big ship before it sailed without us.

We barely had time to grab an icecream before we had to head back to our floating home and discover what kind of creature was waiting for us in our cabin.

Creature from the laundry lagoon

Oceans 1

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; 

but it is the journey that matters, in the end.” 

Ernest Hemingway

25 degrees North and 80 degrees West doesn’t really mean much without a map, but just as we were learning in our geometry lesson “its a point”. Point “A” was Miami and we would disembark at point “B”, 4815 nautical miles away in Southampton, England.  Our final destination was at 51 degrees North and 1 degree West.  A lot of latitude and longitude to cover in 14 days.  Sailing from from point A to point B meant we would cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Royal Caribbean "Adventure of the Seas"

Our mode of transport was a Royal Caribbean cruise ship, which I hoped would only mildly live up to its name “Adventure of the Seas”.  From the vantage point of our 17^th storey hotel window, squinting through binoculars, Josh figured out which was our liner.  Every morning we had awoken to see a fresh batch of cruise ships line up in port.  Today was finally our day to hear the muster horns of farewell from on-board the boat.

Port of Miami herding pen

As with all great journeys it begins with rushing to leave, before waiting to go, then hurrying up to hang around some more.  In the spirit of responsible parenting we played poker while we waited in line for our grand adventure.



Watching the crew carry a wooden steering wheel on board elicited several bad jokes from me about it being "too late to fix it now".  The frowns from my fellow passengers worsened as I explained to the kids that the photo ID they were taking as we boarded was necessary for identification if they fished your carcass out of the ocean.  Jasmin insisted on my silence after I loudly advised her to try for her best bloated look as the camera snapped away.

Realizing that falling overboard in the middle of the Atlantic was no laughing matter I lectured the kids on staying well away from the edge. Then we headed for the back of the boat for some final farewell pics.  Maybe it would be another 25 years before any of us returned this way again?

We had several hours before we were due to leave port and without a cabin assigned, we were left to fend for ourselves at the lunchtime buffet over in Windjammer Café.  "Jammed in" being the operative words as we had lunch with 3000 or so of our new best friends.  It felt as if the other 2997 were all elbowing me at the salad bar.  I was going to have to get way more comfortable with the herd mentality and embrace my fellow grazers.  We wasted away the afternoon exploring beyond the foyer and signing up for all manner of adventure activities on the following days.  After a quick round of mini golf we ventured below decks into the bowels of the liner.

Entrance Foyer

Being a virgin cruiser I was awed by the grandeur of the main promenade.  Little did I know as the days would pass the promenade would shrink down to a mere passageway from aft to fore.

 

Main Promenade 

Lyric theatre

With ice rink, climbing wall, miniature golf and a theatre to keep us busy I began to wonder if 14 days would be enough?

"Ne di Venere Ne di Marte non si sposa ne si parte!"

(Neither marriage nor war will go away once you start).

It feels like one big Italian wedding on board a cruise ship.  You don’t really know anyone, however, there is a collective conscious as you're all there for the same reason.  It's wise to be nice to everyone because you never quite know which table you will be seated at.  

On-board in Giovannis Restaurant

In the spirit of individuality the kids balked at signing up for the children's club.  Who could blame them?  I observed the teen club later in the day by the pool.  They were a large group of surly looking pale Europeans moving as one, never straying too far from their peers.  It was as if the threat of lagging behind would instantly cause a crocodile to pick off the unfortunate pimply straggler.  Someone should have told them we were leaving behind the land of caymans and alligators and we were Caribbean bound.

It is not the going out of port, but the coming in, 

that determines the success of a voyage" 

Henry Ward Beecher

Finally it was time to push away from dock, take our place in the afternoon cruise ship departure procession and head out to sea

The tannoy system announced we were now allowed to go to our cabin.  Avoiding the crush at the elevators we headed down the stairs, the kids were elbowing each other as they raced along the corridor.  At first viewing the cabin seemed much smaller than our imaginations had allowed for.  

Cabin 2304

My mind recollected Micheal Douglas in the movie "Falling Down" where he psychotically held up a ragged burger to the MacDonald's server and compared the glossy photo of the Big Mac to the soggy drooping bun in his hand.  However, it was not my style to 'go postal' and start ranting that the online photos misrepresented the size of the cabin in reality.  But, there was one issue I had to address, we were short of a bed.  My eyes widened in horror at the idea of all three of us sharing one double bed.  Just as I was contemplating rigging up a hammock with one of the sheets the room attendant introduced herself.  Emilie pointed up to the ceiling where an extra bunk was cleverly concealed.  

Dressed for dinner

Cruise ships are a floating food fantasy where you can free feed at the buffet or formally dine with a table of strangers.  For me figuring out the origin of each person's accent was like a giant geography puzzle.  

Formal Dining Room

The hierarchy of cruising is particularly prevalent in the dining room with the lowest floor, named Vivaldi, reserved for non status plebs such as myself.  The second tier balcony, called Strauss, looked down over us.  Then the uppermost Mozart level was allocated for the diamond club status.  They were shielded from us commoners troughing below by the crystal chandeliers hanging in the centre of the sweeping staircase.   I suspected there may even have been another higher level above diamond, almost masonic in its membership, unadvertised and only spoken of in hushed  and reverent tones.  Perhaps they ate behind one way mirrored glass in complete privacy.  Regardless, I watched Titanic and in the beginning they had way more fun on the lower decks.  As we sailed off into the sunset, headed for the Bahamas, I hoped the only ice I would encounter would be in a glass chilling my rum and coke.

"I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next."

Jack Dawson (from the movie Titanic)

Mammy in Myammy

"Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. 

You’ll realize what’s changed is you.”

Benjamin Button

"Myammmmy", wow what a place.  So much is the same yet a great deal is different since my last visit 25 years ago.  Back then I was young and alone, just starting out on my traveling journey, now I have returned to Miami as a mommy.  I am definitely older, but have  I become wiser?  

 

I pondered my own evolution as the early morning sunshine illuminated the city and the passage of time also became evident in the city scape. The concrete skyscraper jungle scattered around aqua marine waterways had grown and sprawled further onto the horizon.  Almost unrecognizable, the downtown area had been regenerated into cleaner streets, paved parks and waterfront tourist hubs.  

It was reassuring to still find some of the older architecture dotted amongst the mirrored multistories. Dade Tower created the illusion of a city with a long history.  It was comforting to hear the  thrilling roar of the oversized speed boats still plying the air.

"Almost everything strange washes up near Miami."

Rick Riordan

The beach goers, the high-rises hotels and the cruise ships had all expanded too, ever larger, taller, wider. The waterfront homes with their flotilla of yachts tethered in front had encroached further into the parades of palm trees.  Even the sky seemed bluer and the sun brighter than I remembered.  

Or could it be that life and light are simply larger and louder in America? After our uncomplicated beach existence in Ecuador the sights and smells of this vibrant city invaded every sense. Perhaps I was overcome with US culture shock? Although after 3 months away it was reassuring to return to the familiarity of America.  

Either way arriving into Miami on only a couple of hours sleep was not a pretty sight.  If you're waiting for the hotel breakfast buffet to open you know you've arrived a tad early.  If your kids look at your coffee with real envy you know that next time the travel plans need to be scheduled for later.   

After breakfast we sat in the hotel lobby waiting for our room. I lazily watched the Intercontinental slowly come to life and observed the essence of human nature.  In the mania of the city it is all too easy to forget that the hotel receptionist or the man hauling your luggage is in fact a person.  Each with their own life, their own family, their own destiny and for a mere fleeting moment of time their path crosses with yours.  Is such a brief encounter meaningless?  Just a disposable interaction, where taking a moment to smile or look into a person's eyes could be a waste of time if efficiency is your goal.  With Ecuador fresh in my mind I was moving in a slower state of conscience.  Having a chat with the gal at the front desk definitely paid off though, because we were assigned a room with a stunning view over the water and enough room to swing several cats.  

While the kids fought over who would shower first I sipped on yet more coffee and gazed at the armada of cruise ships docked in the port.  They had arrived earlier than even us, silently slipping into dock.  Each boat spewing out their passengers so the crew could spend the day furiously cleaning and restocking in order start the floating hotel check in all over again.  We would learn the evening departures were a much louder event of blasting horns and a mass exodus race out to the horizon.  

Once fed and watered we were revived and my thoughts wandered to poor Greg enduring yet more flights on his way to California.  In that instant I missed his presence in all the memories the kids and I were about to make.  Now we were three not four.  I was back into role of both judge and jury and my unfavorite cameo as homeschool despot.  In the spirit of all dictatorships I decided to press home my advantage while the kids were still sleep deprived and forced them into some retail therapy.

With the inevitable feet dragging we trailed along the boardwalk to Bayside.  Meandering along we watched the wind whip up some whitecaps in the channel. The breeze cooled the hot burn of the sun and it felt good to be alive. Jasmin particularly sprang back to life at the thought of possible purchases.

Josh persuaded us to return later that evening for cocktails/smoothies and dinner. I am beginning to realize the kids have great taste.

The next day we awoke to beautiful sunshine and warm breezes and we decided to spend the day at the beach.  As the day wore on so did the heat.  

"Miami Beach is where neon goes to die" 

Lenny Bruce

With over 6 million visitors a year we knew Saturday at South Beach could prove a tad busy.  However as a home school educator I decided this was a life education that the kids should not miss.  

The tourist hordes pressed forward and spilled off the pavements as we slowly shuffled along Ocean Boulevard.  It was difficult to step back to look up at the art deco buildings.  Amazing to think that only 130 years ago this was a coconut farming island.  Now it's a hot sticky crush of humanity with everyone holding their hand out for a tip.

With the boom time of the 1920's came the art deco. From then until now there has been several revitalizations of this island connected to the mainland by bridges. Now, the South American population particularly Brazilians are pushing the visitor numbers up beyond anything imagined.  

I loved looking at all the old cars and imagining the South Beach of old.

If you sit long enough in a cafe on Ocean Boulevard on Miami's South Beach you will see every walk of humanity pass you by in every type of vehicle.  Unfortunately, our budget did not stretch to a gold jeep.  Sorry kids we were down to pedal power only.

After sweating it out along the boardwalk it was finally time to take a dip in the Atlantic.  This ocean is deeper and greener than the Pacific but we didn't care, we just wanted to get wet.

These kids find surf where ever they go.  Their confidence in the waves is enviable.  

If I’m not careful Josh just may find a job as a life guard.  Not an easy job on such a crazy party beach where cube amplifiers crank out music and the ocean is littered with swimmers. I watched with trepidation as the jet skis zoomed in and out through designated channels.

A taxi back to the hotel and a quick dip at the pool rounded off our time in Myammy.  Tomorrow we were bound for the port to find our cabin and hear our cruise ship’s horn blast out a farewell to these shores.

 Miami, a place where the palm trees sway to an eclectic beat of Latino and Caribbean tastes, a setting of distinct architecture and aqua marine waterways with old cars and fast boats.  Where humanity crushes together beneath the sultry clouds of Florida sunshine.

"Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life.  

The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray."

Lord Byron