Archive for the 'Cruise Stories' Category



Dalvay by the Sea

First, an admission—shopping is pretty far down on my must-do list of vacation activities. It seems to me that the retail world has become very generic—same stuff as the local mall in a different place. It is a small pleasure to find a unique store in exception to this trend, but vacations are meant for big pleasures—hence, shopping on vacation is reserved for those situations where it is all but inescapable. Such was the circumstance now.

Although the building housing The Dunes appeared fairly low and compact from the outside, inside was a different story. A profusion of stairs…

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Charlottetown

Kris quickly realized that I was not being impish. She had yet to witness one of my episodes, and it must have been obvious that I was in extreme discomfort.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“Hot towel,” I managed to croak.

Kris ran a hand towel under the faucet and brought it to me steaming hot. I hid my face beneath it. “Your left eye is swollen shut.”

“I know that,” I said.

“Should we go to the infirmary?” asked Kris.

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“They’re all asleep,” I said. “This will be over in two hours. I’m…

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Poetry

“I signed up, but I’m not sure if I made the cut,” I said.

“Well, let’s take a look. Your name?”

“Mr. ‘X’,” I said.

“Cabin?”

“220”

The woman rifled through several pages, and then re-examined the top page of her list. “Oh, yes—here you are. Go right on in,” she said loudly. “He’s about to start.” I left about 200 hopefuls waiting in line and made for the entrance.

The theater was packed, but I spotted a small gap in the mass of people— near the center of the room on the aisle. When I got there I was…

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APHC at Sea

I adjusted the showerhead to produce a concentrated spray and positioned myself so that the blast of steaming water hit me right between the eyes. The hot water provided a welcome distraction, but no relief from the pain.

I sat there for perhaps half an hour, with increasingly morbid thoughts racing through my head. When I emerged from the shower, the bathroom was thick with mist and condensation dripped down the walls. I dried off, wrapped myself in a robe and headed for the verandah.

It was a lot like the bathroom out there—foggy and wet, but 30 degrees cooler….

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Shy?

We walked aft to the dining room entrance and waited for a few minutes for the doors to open. Finally, the crowd surged forward. Inside the entrance I stooped to a hitherto unimaginable act—I stopped and asked directions. I could see the pride on Kris’s face.

A young man in an elaborate uniform topped by a pill box hat took my new table-assignment card and then said something that will forever remain a mystery. When he turned and started walking, we followed—just on a hunch that it was the appropriate thing to do. He led us down the stairs to…

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Show Time

The sound of the rain on the rooftop was soon drowned out by the sounds of footsteps on gravel. People materialized from the fog in all directions, seeking shelter from the sudden deluge. Kris was wearing a white jacket which caused her to initially appear as a body-less apparition, her face hovering a few feet above disconnected legs.

“Didn’t you go to the top?” Kris asked.

“Yeah—nice view,” I said.

“How come I didn’t see you?”

“Did you see anything or anybody?”

“Not really.”

“I’m sure we walked right past each other,” I said. “Not quite like the last time…

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Cadillac Mountain (Acadia NP)

In less than five minutes, the doors to the bus opened again. I caught a glimpse of a bright green jacket, which went nicely with the red face of Betsy as she boarded the bus accompanied by the guide. No search party was required—she was located waiting in the checkout line in the gift shop, holding some postcards that portrayed scenes presently hidden by fog. Betsy has since assured me that she was fully aware of the departure time and was equipped with a time-telling device, and—she cannot explain the lapse. Such is the power of gift shops to mesmerize…

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Jordan Pond (Acadia NP)

We got off the bus and pushed through the stubborn mist until we were out of the way of the other disembarking passengers.

“Well, what do you want to do?” I asked the group.

“Find the ladies room,” said Kris and Pat in unison.

“I don’t think they’ll let me in, so you go on ahead,” I said.

I walked with my mother as Kris and Pat sprinted ahead. To my surprise, my mother was quite familiar with our surroundings. I’ve mentioned that she’d already been nearly everywhere that we would go while on this cruise—not just the individual

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Acadia National Park

Tonight I got home from work around 8:00, capping the longest 4-day workweek I’ve ever experienced. Kris was pretending to read, but she couldn’t fool me—her eyes were closed. I scanned the local paper for a few minutes before returning to my “other job” (this one). The police report is always good for some entertainment. A few days ago, at 3:00 a.m., the police responded to a report of a goat attempting to break the glass door and gain access to the Great American Sub Shop. The goat escaped, and was later reported to be trying a similar tack at

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Bar Harbor

The pain in my head was absolutely excruciating. As the proud parent of more than two-dozen kidney stones, I thought I knew about pain—but this was a whole new ballgame. I had to get up and move, as though I might shake it off. I ran to the bathroom and took four ibuprofen tablets.

In the mirror, I could see that my left eye was almost completely closed and it was watering profusely. My left nostril burned intensely and my nose was running like a river—but felt severely congested at the same time. I thought screaming might help, but

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