There are days when, regardless of whether I'm at sea or on land, my life is just a comedy of errors. If you read my blog two winters ago, you may have read the post about contacts. That was one of those days. Today was another.
I know you're wondering, "This lady is on a cruise ship. How can any day not be perfect". Well, it happens. To me more than most. Read on,...
It started nicely enough. We were up really early for us, before 6:30am. We had wanted to see the Emerald Princess sail into St. Thomas, and were up on Deck 19 for that. As soon as the thrusters started their dance in preparation for docking, we went to the International Cafe for brewed coffee and then to the DaVinci Dining Room for breakfast. I had a large one this morning (a whole bagel, lox and a smear)...I knew there might not be a lunch today.
We had contemplated walking to Emerald Beach, or even going to St. John for the day. (We used to go there on almost every visit, but we're much more laid back now.) Still...we considered all our options and decided a return to Water Island was the best and easiest. We packed the beach bag/cooler for an intensive beach day (two floats, tarp, three water bottles with ice, two beers one Mountain Dew, two Sprite Zeros (which I've learned are shockingly good with gin), two minibottles of gin, two full water bottles)...this thing was fully loaded and heavy. In my backpack went towels and sundries...and an iPhone charging cord (smartest move of the day; the shelter on Honeymoon Beach has an outdoor power outlet). About 9:25am, we left the Emerald Princess to walk to the Crown Bay Marina, to catch the 10am ferry to Water Island.
Of course, on the way, iguana feeding was in order. G has taught one a new trick; it climbs up his leg to get the brioche. The reactions of the passers by: priceless. Actually, if it had continued up into G's shorts, I bet his reaction would have been priceless, too.
We were docked with the Nieuw Amsterdam again at Crown Bay, and there was an overflow crowd waiting for the 10am ferry. Luckily we made it on; some people had to wait for it to return, and then hope that there were 10 of them to warrant another ferry run. (Message here: stand in line even when it's 15 minutes before departure time when there's a crowd). The weather was sunny and hot, but the strong breeze kept it comfortable.
On the 10 minute ferry ride, I became aware of the fact that I was going to need to use the restrooms on Honeymoon Beach for my first time ever. G assured me they were there, though of questionable quality. Great....
Once docked, G decided he needed to run up the hill going to the beach, just for a workout. Would I mind carrying the beach bag/cooler? Along with my backpack? Sure, babe, no worries. Once we were on the dock and I was heavily laden, he took off at a quick pace. Meanwhile, loaded down like a sherpa, I commenced to climb. that. hill. It was sunny and hot and I was immediately drenched with sweat. And the need to use the restroom was intensifying. But I pushed on, moving at a pretty good pace myself, and when I arrived at the beach, quickly dumped the bags where G was already sitting, grabbed a hand wipe (just how primitive WERE these bathrooms?) and took off.
I wasn't sure which building the bathrooms were in, and, well...I was wearing one contact, remember? I walked all around a storage shed before I realized it wasn't what I was looking for, and headed down to the next small building. By this time, I was quickening my pace a bit, and I'm certain that's the only reason I tripped on a tree root and then ran head-on into a low hanging tree branch. Well, quickening my pace and the fact that I had sweated all my sunscreen into my eyes climbing up that damn hill, and the contact in my "good" eye was clouded and greasy. Luckily, my Tilley hat took the brunt of the impact, so I was left with only a growing lump on my forehead.
By now half-blind and a bit dazed, I finally found what was obviously the bath house, but instead of obvious MEN and LADIES signs on the two doors, one of them said Guys (I thought). I headed for the other one, and thankfully discovered, before there was embarrassment to be shared, that these were clever, "beachy-type" signs. The MEN door had a sign that said Buoys, so I turned back to the other and saw, upon closer look, that Guys was actually Gulls. Cute.
I stumbled inside and found the toilet (which, thankfully had toilet pepper). Also here were changing cubbies and a sink with a bar of soap. The problem is that the toilet cubbies were quite tiny. And this wasn't going to be a "shove aside" bathroom trip. If you know what I mean. My T-shirt was sticking to me like glue, and got twisted up in my lanyard, still dangling around my neck with my ship's card and photo ID, as I furiously tried to pull it off. Just in the nick of time, I unwound all that, and managed to complete my mission. All was good in my life. Until I had to put everything back on.
Ladies, have you seen those Miracle Suits they sell at Lands End? The ones that promise you they'll take off 10 pounds? I have one and chose to wear it today simply because it offers more coverage and I'm really trying to limit my sun exposure. Well, the only miracle about these swimsuits is being able to pull one on. In the best environmental conditions (AC on high, a bed to lie on, a large room and maybe even baby powder), these things are akin to what I imagine it's like to squeeze into a full body Spanx. And forget 10 pounds lighter; all they really do is smoosh everything and shift it around. It's all still there: what's behind goes to the sides, the sides go to the front, and the front shifts up to neck level.
So there I was, pretty much sightless, still reeling from my run-in with a tree, hot and dripping with sweat in this tiny toilet cubicle trying to wrestle this Miracle Suit back up over my wet torso without letting any other clothing touch the floor in the process. G may have run up that hill for his workout, but that required a mere morsel of the energy I expended getting back into that suit.
But it's hard to feel virtuous about a workout that involves wrestling on a swimsuit meant to slim you, isn't it?
Do these sorts of things happen to anyone but me?
Finally, back on the beach, I rubbed a metal water bottle filled with ice on my quickly growing forehead lump. And took my first look at this:
The day suddenly got better.
Heidi of Heidi's Grill has gotten into the lounger rental business, I'm sure to keep up with Dinghy's down the beach. They're $10 each, but she refunds $5 each when the lounger is dragged back to her end of the beach. I guess we're getting old (or maybe our morning had already exhausted us); instead of sitting on our tarp, we rented two loungers for the day and settled in.
Honeymoon Beach has definitely been discovered. If the expansion of Dinghy's bar and Heidi's lounger rentals weren't proof enough, there was a veritable traffic jam of excursion boats anchoring offshore to allow their participants a couple of hours on a beach.
Two more boats eventually anchored behind these three. Five excursion boats. That was just...not good. That was the whole charm of Honeymoon Beach...no chairs, no umbrellas, no people. The residents of the island must be hating these developments.
We stayed on the beach until shortly after 3pm. Remembering the overflow crowd on the 10am ferry, we made a point to get back to the ferry dock well before 3:30pm to ensure a seat going back.
As G pointed out, we have at least 25 photos taken from this same place of the same ship...but it's a view that cameras (or iPhones) we're made for.
It was 4:07pm when we reboarded the ship, and tonight was a formal night. I have to say that, even for me, for whom hair styling means standing under a fan in the ceiling of the midship elevator lobby, this schedule, particularly on a formal night, is really pushing it. Especially when all I wanted to do was lie down for a few minutes in the cool darkness of our cabin. I asked G if he wanted to shower first or clean out the beach bag and water bottles. He wanted me to shower first...and then clean out the beach bag and water bottles. (He has the advantage here; he could contentedly live with the mess until tomorrow, but knows I could not).
And so what followed was a blur of activity, but we were both formally dressed and standing on the Promenade Deck with a bottle of Korbel by 5pm, when the Emerald Princess slowly moved away from the pier and made that sharp turn to starboard to sail past Water Island.
I made a final call to Mom as G went to Crooners for two chilled flutes and returned to open the champagne. And as I described our setting to her- both of us dressed to the nines, G in his tux and patent leather shoes, standing on the deck of a cruise ship drinking champagne as we sailed past the picturesque beach on which we had spent the day - even I was struck by what I was describing. That's become a fairly routine experience for us, but, as I said to Mom, "Wow. That sounds really good, doesn't it?" I know that wrestling a tight swimsuit on a sweaty body in a primitive bathroom is the reality of my life, but I guess what I was experiencing at that moment is my reality, too.
My views during my "aha moment". The ferry dock on Water Island:
Honeymoon Beach:
Champagne at sailaway:
We went down to Dinner with Darko when there was nothing more to look at. I've stopped ordering lobster on formal night since I learned how much the waitstaff deplores lobster night, not because of the shell removal but because they wait so long in the galley to pick it up. I wondered why Suttipong always brought extra servings in case someone wanted a second; now I know. Instead, I've started ordering all three of the appetizers and calling it dinner: pear with blue cheese crumbles, shrimp, squid, scallops and a mussel with lime juice, and escargot. Komang always has special flaky rolls for me in the bread bowl on escargot night, along with G's favorite brioche, because they're so tasty with the garlic butter. But Komang is still out sick, so I wasn't expecting them. Well, I should have had more faith. Darko took care of that little detail, something he wouldn't usually be involved with.
Have I mentioned we love Darko? Yes, I know I have, but have I mentioned it lately?
My seafood starter:
We were expecting a gorgeous sunset off our side of the ship, but it sort of fizzled at the last minute. Still, by the time we were finished with dinner, the night sky had taken on a blue-orange hue, with the lights of Puerto Rico in the distance.
We went back to the Promenade Deck to watch for awhile, then decided that a hot tub soak was the perfect way to end the day. Entertainment options tonight that we skipped included vocalist Jacqi Michaels in the Princess Theater and comedian Al Katz in the Explorers Lounge.
Sitting under a starry sky with my best friend was a good alternative. :-)
Life is good. (Miracle swimsuits are not.) ;-)