Sunday, March 20, 1922
Tricia was up and about when I opened my eyes at 8:00 am. In Grand Stirrup Cay, Bahamas. We debated getting off, but we had a lot to do, and we understood there wasn’t much at all to see. The beach lunch was probably great, but it was the same chefs as on board, so we didn’t see any great advantage to getting off. We had just got on, and the ship is beautiful.
We went to our Hospitality Desk for 10:30 am, where we were accosted by a pretty irate lady, with her husband, and another couple in tow. She wasn’t mad at us, thank God, but I wouldn’t have wanted to be her TA at that point. She had a group of eight, and only her own cabin had been included in the DV. They were all booked with the same agent. God bless her, she had all their booking numbers in her phone, so I collected those on the spot. It was Sunday, so I told her to bring everyone along to the cocktail party tonight and promised to write for clarification.
Then we met a lot of people who mistook us for the ship’s concierge or future cruises or dining reservations or who were just wondering what we were doing there. We also met a few of our own people and they were all very nice, including Pat Gustafson and Mike Desky. We got pictures of all of them.
Then we went back to our stateroom and got ready for our cocktail party. We went up to Horizons a half hour early and right into the middle of a very well-attended Afternoon Tea. I nearly had a heart attack. They told me it would be fine and they would be ready for our party at five. There were people all over our section and a few of them looked like they had no idea of leaving for hours. I was biting my fingernails down to my elbows. But, sure enough, they got the cordons out and set them up, the people filtered out, the teacups and saucers disappeared, and the ship’s brass arrived. I told them to come back around 5:15 pm as I would have to check everyone in, first.
And I proceeded to do just that as fast as I could and from all directions, since there was no real entry or podium. I just went to them with a roster and nametags. Tricia did the same thing with a camera and got a lot of nice photos that we can use to learn names.
There was no microphone and what we had was one quarter of a very large venue. The officers introduced what they do on board and I hollered myself hoarse and then went around the fringe and repeated myself, table by table. Everyone we talked to said it was a great party, though. Maybe my manic antics were entertaining.
Then we went to dinner with Pat and Mike and Pat and Toby in Red Ginger, which is great, and we fell into bed again. We missed the show, though. We stopped by the cabin on the way and our beds just looked too good. The entertainer was Michelle Montuori and by all reports, she was terrific.
On Monday, March 21, we were at sea and would be for six days, now that we weren’t going to Bermuda. We woke up refreshed, Trica went for breakfast and I exercised with Miranda, instead. That’s Miranda Esmonde-White on my computer. I credit her, along with going gluten-free and intermittent fasting, with the return of my boundless energy. I feel fabulous and the pounds are dropping off. I am losing weight too fast, if anything. So, once I start eating at 4:00 pm, there’s no stopping me. Gotta slow that weight loss down. What a nice problem to have on a cruise ship.
We dealt with the usual desk traffic. Tricia is very good with the passengers. Her old hospitality training has come right back. This good-looking guy stopped by and I showed him the super picture Tricia had got of him and his wife,. He liked it so much, he gave me his email on the spot. It was mistral44@… And I knew he was a sailor, IPYC, no less. That’s Ile Perrot Yacht Club and I used to live on Ile Perrot, back in the sixties, when I was first married to Brock Maxwell. We had a Flying Junior at the time, and we sailed it off our own dock. It was no Mistral 44, I can tell you. That got me my first takers for Yacht Club de Monaco, my $250pp brunch offer.
My email brought me the good news that we could take the guests who hadn’t been properly coded, so they got full packets, while the rest got the first Newsletter.
Our Happy Hour conflicted with the Captain’s Welcome Party, but it was in the same place and we managed to gather about six of the group and that was nice. One of them had an interesting story about one of her grandchildren, who was learning a word a day, when he was about six. The day the word was “distinctive”, he came out with “distinctshit”, and she hasn’t been able to get rid of it. Now neither will I and one really shouldn’t get one’s s..t where one gets one’s bread.
We had a dozen people at our first impromptu DV dinner in the Dining room. We caught the tail end of the Production show and it was fun all fifties and sixties – our music.
Tuesday, March 22, still at sea, we lost an hour last night. Europe is five hours ahead of EST and we have to get to the time zone as well as the territory, you see. So we got up at nine and were very pleased we had called Office Hours for 10:30 am.
The Executive Concierge told us that there could be no Galley, nor Bridge Tour, etc., because of COVID. Everything gets blamed on COVID, which, God knows, deserves it.
We found out that we have people on this cruise to celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary. Wow. One gal wanted to know if they had good gluten-free bread on board and I didn’t know, so we both promised to ask at dinner. All our people are fabulous, not a whiner in the bunch. Speaking of wine, the Executive Cellarmaster came by at my request. I wanted to bargain for a deal on one of the wine tastings. We settled on reds from 5 countries, 10% off if we round up 10 people and 20% if we get 20.
I managed to get a little blog out in the afternoon and we had a little happy hour with just two couples, whom we left with each other to join Pat and Mike and Pat and Toby in the Dining room. We managed to see an entire performance for the first time. It was the Irish Comedian, Brian Clancy, and I fell asleep during the show. We are sleeping like a pair of logs and Tricia saws wood. Not that I can talk. I burp and fart and she puts up with that. Not without protest, mind you.