The Old Man and I decided, now that we’re getting old, but not yet to the crickety stage, that if we were ever going to take time out to have some fun, we better be about it. God knows it’s next to impossible to make ends meet in this economy – so throwing worry to the winds for a few days here and there can’t hurt a thing.
Sometime in March or April, when life seems to get particularly pissy, our friends dropped by one night and shoved a newspaper under our noses with an ad for a cruise on the SCOTIA PRINCE. Party packages were being offered at bargain rates – live music, casino, buffets, gift shop, activities – fun on the high seas for 24 hours. That sounded pretty good in the doldrums of winter, so we went ahead and made reservations for a cruise in June.
Now we had something to look forward to for a couple of months. A nice cruise on a sunny day in June (surely it will be sunny by then?) – incommunicado with anybody on shore – what bliss. I got some new shirts, shorts and sandals, envisioning lolling around on the sun deck, waited-on hand an foot, watching for whales on a sparkling calm sea.
Well, June 14 arrived and damned if it wasn’t rainy, cold and dungeon thicka-fog. Who would have thought it back in March, when it was rainy, cold and foggy! It was really no matter – we’re used to it after all. It’s a big ship, offering plenty of entertainment, and at least we’re out of the house.
Upon arriving at the terminal at 6 p.m., with departure scheduled for 8 p.m., the first thing we had to do was get checked all over – all baggage, pockets and persons got checked two or three times – nobody wants any terrorists on board. Then it was wait, crammed in with about 250 other passengers in a small terminal building with seats for about 50. Stand on one foot, stand on the other foot, sit on the suitcase and wait and wait. Then there’s an announcement – everyone standing – just about everybody – has to crowd back against the walls to make a path for a cop and a dog to sniff every piece of baggage. Why they didn’t do this as we came in, I don’t know! No bombs there either, only stepped-on toes, crushed luggage and strangers breathing down your neck. Is that boat ever going to get here or what!
Finally, out of the fog the SCOTIA PRINCE appears – big, white and beautiful – and slides up to the dock. There’s a surge for the door, abruptly halted. No one allowed out yet – more waiting while everyone aboard there disembarks. We did, eventually, get let out of the terminal, making our way in the wind and rain to the boarding ramp – and into another world.
Glittering lights, shiny brass rails, carpeted floors, mirrored ceilings and a hovering staff offering exotic drinks met our wondering eyes. Stairways going up and going down, with a maze of corridors, very narrow, with doors on either side, made finding our way to our cabin a little confusing. It’s easy to get lost in there, but there is a huge staff of friendly Jamaicans who will show you the way. I had demanded a cabin in the stern, with a port hole – no more windowless steel coffins in the bow for me after that BLUENOSE trip – not that we could see anything in the fog and black night, but maybe tomorrow would be sunny.
By now it’s after 9 p.m. and late dinner is being served in the dining room – one deck down, in the bow, through more corridors and stairs, past the casino, gift shop and slot machines. The ship is underway and tipping a little side to side. It’s hot in the dining room, full of people. Seeing as how I was late taking my Dramamine, food was suddenly not very appealing – and our bunk was. So I left the Old Man there with our friends having to eat two prime rib dinners. This little sea didn’t bother him a bit – two dinners and a few drinks just primed him for a night of fun in the casino.
The next morning, after 10 hours of a good night’s sleep for me (the rest of them partied until 3 a.m.!) we arrived in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. I got up, feeling great, and went out on the stern deck to see what’s going on. It was cloudy with a brisk breeze. From this height the view took in the whole town, surrounded by miles of mud flats exposed at low water, with seagulls all over the place – very picturesque.
You could go ashore if you wished for an hour or so. However, when the whistle blew, you had only 15 minutes to get back aboard from wherever you may have wandered. Mad dashes were not on our agenda – the heck with that – we headed for the breakfast buffet instead. That was pleasant, sitting there motionless at the dock while we drank lots of coffee, a couple of Bloody Marys (hair of the dog) and ate heaps of food.
We were soon underway again, back home. It was great, standing or sitting on the open decks that run around the ship on three or four different levels, breathing the fresh salt air and watching the land slip by. We passed the lighthouse on the last point and went out to sea with only water everywhere.
Meanwhile the tide had turned, and with it came a 40-knot so’easter. Whitecaps were whipped up as far as the eye could see. The waves rose and fell in deeper troughs as we steamed before the wind. Rain came down and the wind blew fierce and cold. Lucky for us, it was fair wind, fair tide and the stabilizer jets on the sides of the sides of the ship kicked in when she rolled too deep.
I was huddled in the corner on the deck, in the lee of course, half froze in my sandals and light clothes, but unable to leave off looking out at that beautiful wild sea, exhilarating and fascinating. I put my coffee cup on the rail and it didn’t even budge. Amazing. We saw whale spouts, and even a humpback breaching off in the distance, several times – not in a sparkling sea, but we saw them. No lolling on the sun deck today!
We arrived back in Portland just at dark, and it was still raining and blowing worse than ever. I didn’t envy the next crowd coming aboard, going back against the wind and tide. The Old Man, however, wanted to turn right around and go back there again – the stormier the better! Thank God we were unable to act on it!
Debarking was anticlimactic – another two hours waiting to get off the ship, waiting outside in the storm to get into customs, waiting to get out the back door, shed of that mess at last.
We literally did throw our worries to the winds this trip. It was fun, relaxing and well worth doing. I suppose it’s back to the old grind again now – until next time.
– Rusty Warren
Vinalhaven