Excellence is a Choice

March 9, 2012

The memorable cruise experiences delivered by Celebrity Cruise Line do not happen by accident. They are the direct result of imaginative design, creative planning, proper preparation, hiring the right people, detailed training, and outstanding execution. But all of this effort would be in vain if it wasn’t for the choice made by 1232 people each day to deliver excellence.

When you are on shore planning a cruise experience, whether it is designing the ships, her menus, or her programs; or perhaps putting together our itineraries, it seems pretty straight forward that an excellent result will occur. It is probably fairly obvious to anyone who works on shore what steps need to occur to enhance the quality or profitability of any program or vessel. But things aren’t nearly that easy when it comes to the day-to-day execution of those plans, twelve hours a day, seven days a week for six to eight months at a stretch. Of course, if you are a guest and speak to any one of our crew you would tend to think that it is. After all, every person you speak to is excellent and seems to be having a fantastic day.

Being excellent is part of our Celebrity Brand. Our upbeat, positive attitudes when we deal with guests and each other are our hallmark. When you walk down the I-95 and you hear us greeting each other you are amazed at the number of times you hear ‘excellent’ in response to the question ‘how are you today?’ One crew mate when he heard my standard response to the standard question said, “of course you are, you are that way every day.” His response rattled me a bit and I started to wonder if I was being phony or authentic in my response. After mulling it over for a while I came to my answer. It was completely authentic. But an insight dawned on me that informed me on why this was so.

I had chosen to be excellent. Each day, when I left my stateroom, I made the conscious choice to be excellent. Did I always feel at peak physical condition? Definitely not. There are many days that I’m so tired it is hard to get out of bed. There have been days when stuffy sinuses or a tickle in my throat had me worried I was coming down with a major cold. There have been several days when my back was sore and I had a fear of re-developing chronic sciatica. Some days I was worried about personal issues or concerned that I wasn’t as prepared as I would like to be for a business event that day. Yet, in every case I made the decision to be excellent for the people around me. I made the decision that my problems were not going to become their problems.

This is an insight that I have now folded into my New Hire Welcome Aboard and STAR Training. Every one of us on the crew has a choice to make each day. Either we can allow the negative emotions of our life circumstances to overwhelm us or we can choose to be excellent in the face of these. I have seen crew members who have lost a parent to unexpected death never miss a positive beat in dealing with colleagues and guests while they await the chance to depart for the funeral. We can only succeed at delivering the exceptional experience for our guests if we have a passion for doing just that. And if we have that passion we have the power to make the decision to act in ways that will portray our personal excellence to our guests.

This, of course, isn’t just a crew member insight, but an insight for all of us no matter our state of life. We get several guests each cruise who are basically very unhappy people. They have chosen to see the shadow not the light, and have decided to share that darkness with everyone they meet. Each of us in our lives has a choice to make every day. We can choose to live a life predicated on ‘just getting by,’ or we can reach for the stars. We can choose to be miserable or we can choose to be excellent. We can choose to blame others for why we can’t succeed instead of embracing what we can do to accomplish greater things.

That is what has happened with the vast majority of the crew on Silhouette. We have chosen to be excellent, to aspire, to dream and to accomplish great things. We have . . . and we will.

And the adventure continues . . .

The Celebrity Leadership Institute

March 8, 2012

Despite the romantic notion of cruising for a job, at the end of the day this is a business with all the needs of any other large corporation. As such all the regular systems, processes, and procedures are in place to ensure the operation moves successfully forward. Management and succession training play a big role in every future oriented corporation, and Celebrity Cruise Lines is no exception. And our approach to ensuring our future success is the Celebrity Leadership Institute.

The Celebrity Leadership Institute (CLI) is a multi-part program designed to train our new supervisors and managers in the skills necessary to excel. The content of these training programs are fairly predictable for those who have developed in management on land. We have courses on managing business performance, communications, coaching, performance management, being a leader, etc. The content is standard, but the implementation of this program is not. First, start with the fact that we are promoting people from dozens of countries all over the world and are trying to apply an American business cultural norm to diverse cultural backgrounds. Second, recognize that even though they are moving up through excellent performance in their current jobs, the vast majority does not have a college education and their first (and sometimes even second) language is not English. Third, these are people who never get a day off and work 10 to 14 hours per day. When you give them an assignment to do outside of class there is limited time to accomplish it. Finally, where in America you can offer a management seminar that spans three to five consecutive days, the average time that a person spends in a contiguous classroom experience is one to one-and-a-half hours. Other than these restrictions, of course, it is exactly like teaching a seminar on land.

The other major difference is that we are fundamentally trying to change a culture. The cruise industry management system seemed to descend from European military structures. So management styles were far more dictatorial and the caste system was alive and well. Modern cruise companies, with Celebrity definitely one of the leaders, is trying to move to more of a 21^st century leadership style of motivating by shared ownership of the results rather than fear of reprisal. This transition is still in effect, but we have made tremendous changes already. Yet, when I taught a course the other day on Performance Evaluations I felt that the principles that I was so familiar with were absolutely revelatory to this class of new managers.

This is what makes working in the Celebrity Leadership Institute so motivating. We are recreating the style of management for the cruise industry. Other companies are working on this, of course, but we have a more systematic approach to the application of this important skill development and cultural change. When I start by asking people how they would like to be managed and then give them permission to manage others in the same way, you see the light go on and the possibility of another way grab a toehold. But it is work. Tools such as SWOT analyses, which are rudimentary to business students in college in America are groundbreaking here. The basic concepts of financial and managerial accounting are unheard of and need to be taught from scratch. The principles of Management by Objectives are foreign. But that becomes the value that I know I get to add.

Due to all the barriers listed above I sometimes must struggle with only two or three showing up at a class session. It is in those moments that I recall a statement I’ve often made about preaching at Sunday mass. If only one person gets the message the time spent was worthwhile. If only one supervisor or manager learns a new and better way to lead their employees then the investment of my time and energy has paid off. When ten show up I feel like a little kid at Christmas. And every day, I simply work to deliver the best I can to whatever group is in front of me.

Every journey begins with a single step.

And the journey continues . . .

The Kmart from Hell

March 7, 2012 – The Kmart from Hell!

This blog post is likely to lose me my Kmart sponsorship. Okay, I don’t have a Kmart sponsorship but I was hoping for one. Okay, maybe not, but a CVS sponsorship, Starbucks sponsorship, or Butterfinger sponsorship, based on previous posts would be nice.  . . . Sorry, easily distracted this evening. But since I told you about my fulfilling shopping trip at CVS in San Juan (CVS sponsors, did you get that?), I need to do due diligence by sharing my tale of woe from the Kmart in St. Thomas.

St. Thomas has become one of my favorite ports. Most importantly, there is a nearby restaurant with pretty tasty food that is accompanied by free WiFi. It is a beautiful harbor where I can get exercise in walking 25 minutes into the main ‘downtown’ area. It is a US territory so my cell phone service coverage works. In addition, since I see many, many crew members return to ship with Kmart shopping bags I believed it was a very Mecca of retail activity.

That is, of course, until I took the 15 minute walk up a hill to what I can politely describe as the Kmart from Hell. (For those of you insisting on the separation of Church and Blog . . . well, it’s way too late for that . . . but here I’m not talking about the theological construct of eternal damnation, just a place you really don’t want to spend time if you don’t have to. Glad I could set the record straight, so let’s move on.) Let me start by admitting that we are terribly spoiled in the 50 states. Our abundant choices and the way they are organized in neat aisles in our stores is something we take for granted but seems to be less important in many parts of the world. This Kmart in St. Thomas is one of those places. The exterior of this Kmart reminds me of two many past their prime Sears stores that I have seen in Colorado or California. The exterior looks tired, the entryway even more so, and the interior does nothing to correct the somnambulant impression. This is a two floor store, but unlike what you may be thinking this store is built around a main floor and a basement. All the clothes are on the main floor and everything, and I mean everything else, is in the basement. Since my goal was to look for office supplies and house wares, after scanning the first floor which completely underwhelmed me, I headed downstairs to be under-underwhelmed.

I’m sure there is order to this store, but it is not readily apparent. Home furnishing, decorations, electronics, garden supplies, books, kitchen gadgets, office supplies, some food products, and clothes that apparently couldn’t fit upstairs were tucked in aisles throughout the basement. If the aisles were simply long and straight one might be able to scan all the different lanes with relative ease and make the lack of any signage straightforward to overcome. Unfortunately half aisles ran into their perpendicular cousins, and with no signs to direct you, it was easy to get lost as to where you really were. I was excited when I quickly stumbled upon blue painter’s tape that I was hoping to use to create a border for one of my bulletin boards. With great expectation I then hoped to find a reasonable fabric to use as a backing for my bulletin board, business books or videos for my training library, and perhaps some additional glassware for my stateroom. (Remember, man does not live by bread alone . . . oops, I’ve crossed that pesky separation of Church and Blog barrier, again.)

Soon, my expectations were dashed. The glassware selection was entirely random, short on stock, and unable to meet my limited needs. There were a few books and video but they had the completeness of a middle class yard sale. No cloth was in sight other than the few articles of clothing. After a half an hour of futile and somewhat confusing search, I realized that the painter’s tape, accidentally discovered in my first three minutes would be the sum total of my procured bounty. The only question now was to find a cashier and exit this retail wasteland as quickly as possible.

That’s when I made my next mistake. I got in line for a cashier at one of three checkout lines in the basement. The other two aisles were not necessarily closed but not necessarily opened. There was apparently a cashier at one, but with no customers, nor did he make any acknowledgement that he was there to assist customers. There were three men (management?) who were walking around behind the checkout discussing the stock with no interest in the growing line of customers in the queue. The one cashier started making loud comments about the lazy men that would not help her as she slowly, and her lack of speed aided by the lackadaisical customers, moved slowly apace. After ten minutes she called out to the man behind me that he was to be the last in line as she needed to go on a break, and he and I were responsible for turning any further guests away. Wow, did that make us popular! But we persisted and slowly inched toward the register. After 20 minutes we were almost there.

Then she ran out of change. She called to one of the managers to get her some change, but he ignored her first few requests. Finally and apparently reluctantly, he sauntered over to get the money from her cash drawer to make change and then ambled up the stairs. Our register maven apologized to us for the delay and informed us she would help us all as soon as he came back. But at the speed at which he was moving we knew that could be awhile. Finally, after another five minutes with no sight of the anticipated change I timidly asked if I could take my purchase upstairs to a register there. “Of course,” she said. With pent up energy from my half an hour wait I shot up the stairs only to be faced with more lines at the first floor registers. Picking the shortest one I endured the typical curse of watching every line move faster. There was a cadre of women standing behind this cashier engaging her in ongoing and lively conversation. Great for her morale but a detriment to her efficiency. Finally, it was my turn and my $8 purchase was subsequently rung up and I breathed the air of freedom moments later after my hour long exile into the land of fluorescent lights and apparent lethargy.

This was not just a cultural thing . . . island time . . . as I’ve experienced unhurried service in several other establishments in the islands. No this was something unique and special. This was a phenomenon all its own.

This was the Kmart from hell.

And the adventure continues . . .

Compliments Make You Smile No Matter How Tired You Are

March 6, 2012 – Compliments Make You Smile No Matter How Tired You Are

Almost everyone who works on a cruise ship is sleep deprived. That’s why the first bit of homework we give to all our sign-offs when they leave on vacation is to sleep for two or three days, or a week, whatever it takes to help their bodies catch up with the deficit. I then tell them to spend lots of time with their friends and family. Unless, of course, they don’t like their family and then they should just stick with their friends. But the first priority must be sleep, for we are a tired group of people after working every day, 10 – 12 hours a day, for months on end.

Yet if you need energy, there is one source that can make you forget about your exhaustion. That would be the kind words of crewmates and even guests. Crewmates, especially, understand the need to support each other. One of the things that I remind them during their new hire orientation is that we are the only ‘family’ that any of us will have nearby for many, many months. So I tell them we need to take care of each other. To be aware when someone is down and to go out of your way to pick them up, again.  They obviously understand the importance of that instruction. I make it a point to go out of my way to share encouragement with whomever I can whenever I can. And what goes around comes around, as I have been blessed by the verbal support of my crewmates, as well.

It started early on when my new friend Iaroslav (who you may remember as the Ukranian Mr. Bean) stood up and applauded me at the end of his New Hire Welcome Aboard training. He came up and told me it was the best training class he had ever taken. I laughed as I knew it was simply his youthful exuberance speaking, but he had immediately internalized one of the messages that I always try to share. Other similar comments make me wonder about their sincerity. Sherwin, a Celebrity Cleaner, who was a soldier in Guyana, always passes me and loudly calls out ‘there’s Mr. Dave, the Number One Trainer,’ with a smile that makes me want to put my hand on my wallet (something, by the way, that I don’t carry). Manny, the head of our jazz quartet always asks me how the ‘Number One T&D is doing.’ My reply is always, ‘number one on this ship, Manny, just on this ship,’ which gives us both a chuckle.

But then there are the heartfelt and profound comments that catch you off guard and let you know you might be making a difference. Amaury, from the Dominican Republic, who moments after he met me told me I had the kindest soul he had ever known. Ashley, the pianist in the jazz group said that I brought caring passion to my training, which made her love to come to my classes. Rolando, an assistant stateroom attendant who was struggling with his job, told me I was the first person who made him feel they were on his side, and now wants to show me proudly how well he can clean a room. There is Wormold, a crew mess attendant from Nicaragua, who hugged me on his sign off day saying, ‘I love you Mr. Dave.’ And, of course, the Indian Catholic community on board who told me the other night that they have never had an officer on board the ship that cared about their faith so much and worked to guarantee they had mass.

Even the guests can make you feel you are making a difference. There was one Catholic guest who told me she wished that I could attend the masses with the guests, after seeing me help a new priest set up on the first day of the cruise, and said she was praying for me. Another guest told me she felt good about Celebrity because they had someone like me caring for the crew. And the Sullivans from Massachusetts asked their Maître D’ to call me from their dining table on the last night so they could wish me goodbye.

This is not a puff piece to try to show how wonderful I am . . . it is quite the opposite. I am simply me. What astounds me is the number of people who have gone out of their way in these two months to give me encouragement in this new and challenging life. They are the heroes of this blog entry.

And when I am weary they give me renewed strength.

And the journey continues . . .

A Target to Hit

March 5, 2012 – A Target to Hit

An employment contract at sea is like running an ultra marathon. It requires serious effort for a long period of time and the challenge is as much physical as it is mental. Now imagine what that endurance race would be like if you didn’t have a clear indication of how long the journey actually was. Or even worse, if someone kept moving the finish line!

So, your Sign Off date is a number that everyone commits to heart. When you start a contract you are provided an estimated sign off date, and somewhere within the first half of your contract that date is normally adjusted to a reasonable guess at when you will be leaving. There are always special circumstances that can result in an extension, but that date is generally the clear finish line toward which you are running.

My problem is that my original sign off date had nothing to do with reality. My position works under an approximate four month contract, and yet from the very first date that I came on board, my employee file listed me as staying until July, a six-month duration. This alarmed me. Yet, every time I attempted to discuss this I was told that this was only an estimated date and not to worry about it. But the number of times I heard that someone had not questioned a sign off date until the last month of their contract and when they did were told that it was their responsibility to ask that question earlier led me to know that I needed to take stronger action than simply to trust a number entered into a database in Miami. So, I stayed persistent in my quest for the truth on my contract length, bringing it up with Laura every couple of weeks. Finally as I inched closer to the completion of my second month she agreed that an inquiry needed to be made. A good motivation for this was that she believed she was to sign off in March but still hadn’t heard anything final.

Two questions were sent to our shore-side HR Manager in Laura’s email, and we waited expectantly for a reply. One day later, no response had been received. Two days passed. On the third day we received a response indicating that it was being worked on and we would have an update the next day. When I arrived at work the next morning Laura forwarded me the reply from Miami. Although two questions had been asked, only one of us had received an answer. Laura still was awaiting hers, but I had mine. May 24^th! I was scheduled to leave the ship on that day in Naples, Italy. The anxiety that had been building each day over this subject was finally released. Yes, the date could still adjust a bit here or there, but we had a real target now and it wasn’t July!

I now knew where the finish line was. Instead of running a race just for the sake of running there was now a goal at the end of the journey. As the one who conducts the sign off meetings for all crew, I had seen the joy as the day approached illuminate their very beings. I realized that I would enjoy that same joy-filled experience in the not too distant future. Yes, it is the day after our 25^th wedding anniversary . . . but close enough.

And the Sign Off meeting that I conduct that day will be my favorite ever!

And the adventure continues . . .

The End of OPP Level 2 . . . For Now

March 4, 2012

Norovirus is easy to contract but very hard to get rid of. This pesky little bugger can cling to any surface and is easily transmitted by simple touch. With the number of times that the average person touches their face in an hour’s time, the chance to self-infected after having touched something else is remarkably high. There is a rule on board that you should use handrails when walking up and down the stairs, especially at sea. But most of the crew believe it is safer not to use the handrails at the cost of perhaps falling down the stairs than it is to contracting norovirus.

So, when our ship was infected it was full blown war, a war we had to win. Immediately we enforced Level 2 protocols. Hand washing entering AND leaving the mess or any public venue. No self serve in either the guest buffet in Ocean View or in the Crew Mess. Continuous sanitation, including our offices several times a day. Every possible case of norovirus including any diarrhea, vomiting, or nausea had to be reported leading to immediate isolation. And on Turnaround in New Jersey, we performed a full ship sanitization, top to bottom . . . twice. This sanitation ‘barrier’ was so complete that the US Public Health service officials who were onboard to review our processes said that what we completed should not only be the standard for the fleet, but for the entire cruise industry.

But did it work? The numbers on our next twelve day cruise immediate decreased, at least among guests. From almost 200 infected on the previous cruise, the last cruise dropped to only 46 cases out of 2900 guests. But the crew numbers actually increased from 11 to 12 during the course of the cruise. Great progress, but Level 2 stayed in effect. The next cruise began with a slightly more limited sanitation barrier and all other protocols still in effect. This led to even better totals 12 guests and only 5 crew, well within acceptable limits. But did we come off of Level 2. Nope. The Captain and Staff Captain decided that we would go three more days of the new cruise to see if we had any increased outbreak.

Three days later we inched slowly back to Level 1. We held our breath and continued for the most part to ‘stay clean.’ When the cruise ended we were able to declare victory. Only three guests and one crew member had reported any form of gastrointestinal illness on our last cruise. So, we had won this battle. But the war continues, for without proper care, it can return at any time.

And this is a battle we don’t really want to fight again any time soon.

And the adventure continues . . .

A Price to Pay

March 3, 2012

Leaving the Forensics Team at the end of the tournament the night before I left for the Silhouette was a heart-rending experience. For the last 6 ½ years they have been at the core of my thoughts and efforts. But in life there are always trade-offs. To take this job with Celebrity Cruise Lines I knew that I would be separate from them for four months at a time. Conceptually, I understood that I would miss their most important tournaments this year. Emotionally, I could not fully embrace what that meant.

On the last weekend in January when they participated in the National Qualifying Congress and I was at sea, I was consistently distracted as I looked at the clock, performed the time zone calculations, and estimated what was happening in Colorado at that very moment. It was a difficult day that underscored my true separation from the program and was only salved by hearing the next day of their success in qualifying three for the National Championships. Last week, when they competed in Regional Qualifying for State was somewhat easier, as I knew they would be successful and I considered this a simple test for them as they prepared for the National Qualifying Speech and Debate Tournament as well as Colorado State Tournament.

But this weekend it became very difficult, again. As the Nat Quals tournament began I was, once again, at sea, and would be for the duration of the tournament. With no way to get instant access communications I would need to rely on those who could send emails from their blackberries or iPhones, and more importantly, had time in the midst of this intense tournament to do so. I found myself sending several emails to different people to get updates, trying to keep myself busy, but constantly checking only to find an inbox devoid of the messages I most wanted to receive. Far too rarely I received pure statistical results with no commentary. It was nothing like being at the tournament.

As usual in such tournaments there were early surprises, but I had no way to get more details on those unexpected events. As our students advanced, I had no sense of upcoming pairings, time schedules, or states of mind. When I finally went to bed that night I still did not have the final answer on any event. It was a stark realization for me that the program that I had carefully crafted was completely out of my hands. I had moved on to my next challenge and they had, as well.

The emails and pictures the next morning were bittersweet. All told, seven students were now going to Nationals! I was elated! And yet, I had not shared the experience of their wins and losses. I had not been there to stand and applaud when they received their well-deserved awards. I did not get a chance to hug them and tell them how proud I was of each and every one of them, including those who would not make the trip to Indianapolis.

There is no question in my mind that working on Silhouette is exactly where I’m supposed to be. I feel valued and know I am making a worthwhile contribution. I am comfortable with the rhythms of ship life and enjoy the travel and the occasional perks of the job. I know I will see my family and friends, again.

But there is a price to pay . . .

And the adventure continues . . .

Finally DekeAtSea

March 2, 2012

I wasn’t just hired for my good looks. Okay, let’s be honest, I wasn’t hired for my good looks at all. And although the job is as a training and development manager and I have lots of experience in those departments that is also not the only reason that I was both hired and took the job. The additional benefit I bring is my ministry background. I’ve worked with people for years and my experience in the ministry of ‘being,’ as well as of ‘listening’ and ‘guiding’ gave me a distinct advantage over other talented candidates. When I began to think about this position, I definitely saw the ministerial aspects and believe that God dropped me into this place to serve in more profound ways than just teaching the same classes over and over, again. So, I look for ways to serve albeit unofficially in this capacity.

In addition, I’ve tried to arrange for ways to make it more official. On my very first cruise we were blessed by the presence of two priests, Fr. Chris and Fr. Mike, who were taking a vacation out of New Jersey. When I met them they agreed to offer a mass for the Crew in my Training Room before the cruise was over. It turns out that Fr. Mike was actually Msgr. Michael Andreamo, the Secretary to the Archbishop of Newark. I immediately took advantage of that convergence of necessity and opportunity to ask the Monsignor if it would be possible to be granted faculties to serve as a deacon onboard the ship that had a home port in their diocese. I felt that if there was not a priest on board that I would be able to arrange to receive the Blessed Sacrament to conduct Communion Services for guests and crew aboard Silhouette. However, the wheels of the Catholic Church move slowly and before this could be granted we entered the season of Lent, which, fortunately, brings a priest on every cruise through the auspices of the Apostolate of the Sea to Celebrity Cruise Lines. So, I set aside my desire to provide a missing service to simply enjoying the opportunity to celebrate Mass which had been lacking for four weeks.

But in the first week of Lent Fr. Mackey changed all that. Fr. Mackey is a seminary classmate of Fr. Don Dunn of the Diocese of Colorado Springs and we met on the first day of his cruise which coincided with Ash Wednesday. Father conducted a simple Liturgy of the Word with distribution of ashes that day, but then agreed to preside at two masses for the crew in his twelve day journey, in addition to saying daily masses for the guests. Fr. Mackey asked me a simple question two days before the first crew mass, “Would you like to serve as deacon at the crew masses?” My first response was a very quick “no.” There were two reasons for this answer. First, I did not have my vestments. Since I had been taught that one should respect the liturgy by being properly vested to serve at this profound intersection of heaven and earth, I didn’t want to unintentionally minimize the profundity of the liturgy. The second reason was more ship related. As an officer I am always ‘in charge’ and the crew follow directions and take orders. However, I felt that at mass I needed to intentionally level the playing field and not always be in a position of privilege and power over the crew. Let them take the roles of service: lector, music ministers, Eucharistic ministers, if needed, and let me be one of the congregation.

But just before the mass began I had a change of heart. I truly missed serving at the Lord’s Table. It is part of who I am to provide that service to a community. So, ten minutes before Mass I asked Fr. Mackey if I could serve as deacon even if I wasn’t properly vested. He agreed with a smile and I had the opportunity to serve my first Mass at sea. I felt it surprised the crew a bit as they learned something about me that they didn’t know and perhaps didn’t fully understand. But I understood the importance of the service I provided them.

I have now served three masses at sea. The last, with Fr. Blake from St. Thomas, VI, was maybe the most profound. Father, recognizing that the deacon is the eyes and ears of the Bishop with the people asked me to lead the Prayers of the Faithful. I truly don’t remember all the words, but I know that the depth and passion of the prayers I offered for these men and women with whom I work and live every day for months on end, for their needs and for their families, and for the passengers who sail with us, were some of the most deeply heart-borne prayers I have ever offered. At the end of the Mass of the Third Sunday of Lent I realized that I am now truly Deke At Sea, earning the title I claimed before this blog began.

And the adventure continues .  .  .

Are You Kidding Me . . . Costa, Again?

March 1, 2012

Let’s start with the facts. The cruise industry is the safest form of passenger travel in the world. On a passenger by mile basis there are far less injuries and fatalities than planes, trains, or automobiles. The likelihood of being injured or worse during a cruise accident is astonishingly small. But when people hear about accidents on a cruise ship, especially because it is so rare, it certainly captures our imagination. And in a year that celebrates the 100^th anniversary of the Titanic it seems our imagination is just waiting to be captured.

There is also a real fraternity among all those who sail the seas. When there is an accident or crisis of any kind which impacts any ocean going vessel it is as if it happened to us. The night of the Costa Concordia accident we were enjoying a crew wine and cheese night with great acoustic music in Mingles, our crew lounge. When the flat screen televisions started to show the news coverage of Concordia the mood of the entire room grew somber. Later when we discovered that one of our spa employee’s husbands worked on the wrecked ship it simply became personal. Our guests, of course, immediately wanted our take on the accident. We studiously avoided making any comment. We weren’t there and we knew no more than our guests could see on the news. We simply assured our guests of how safe our ships are and that we take a different line when we sail out of Civitavecchia.

The safety record of ships at sea is no fluke, but is the direct result of our obsession with safety. The expressed mantra of Celebrity Cruise Lines is that Safety is Everybody’s Business. Each Sunday I send out a topic for the week that must be reviewed and discussed by every department. With only twelve different topics that means that every crew member reviews this material four or five times per year. The first training that any crew member gets upon starting a contract is safety, and there are several course of this type in our first few days. Every cruise there is a passenger drill before departure. During the course of the cruise there is a full crew emergency and lifeboat drill. Officers have advanced training in Crowd and Crisis Management. Our goal is for this to become so second nature that in the event of a real emergency it would all be instinctive. In fact one of the telling results of the Costa Concordia accident was that so few people were lost. Think about how incredibly difficult it would be to evacuate 4000 people for a dramatically listing and sinking ship and that it was accomplished with minimal loss of life and injury. This was a tribute to the training and execution of the Concordia crew in responding to this disaster.

So imagine our shock when the news came across the internet only a month after the Concordia that another Costa ship had experienced a fire and complete loss of power and was now adrift in the Indian Ocean. It was with a sense of utter shock that we tried to process this news. These events just don’t happen. When they do they are widely spaced apart over time and do not consistently happen to the same company. To hear that another Costa ship was in trouble led to the knee-jerk denial of the story. No, that’s not possible . . . who did you hear that from . . . were the common skeptical replies. Of course, Costa had been stricken a second time and the Crew Mess was quiet during the next few meals as the images of another cruise ship in trouble filled the television screens. You can’t help but thinking that there but by the grace of God go I. (knock wood)

Once again, our public relations replies were memorized, our safety reviews increased, and the intensity of our drills picked up. I watched from my position in the staging area as our onboard fire team responded to a simulated fire in less than 6 minutes and had the fire contained and out in less than 20. It reminded me of how lucky I am that on Celebrity safety truly is everybody’s business. So, that in the very unlikely event of a real emergency (knock wood) we would come out victorious with all hands safe.

That preparation is why the cruise industry has the best travel safety record.

And the adventure continues . . .

Labadee, Labadah, Life Goes On . . .

February 29, 2012

I know you recall the old Beatles song. If you are too young to understand the reference, just ask your parents. But early in the morning when on port days in Labadee you hear that gentle tune being hummed or lightly sung several times as you head down the I-95. Or if your office is across from our Bar Manager, Damir, you heard it sung in more full-throated tones. Except instead of Obladee, Obladah, the words have been changed to Labadee, Labadah.

Labadee, Haiti is Celebrity’s private resort area on the coast of Haiti. It is a narrow peninsula which gives us beaches on two sides.  The protected side is Columbus Cove. The windward side is a long stretch that fronts the open Atlantic. With plenty of beach, several open air food and beverage areas, a few attractions for the more adventurous, and a Village ‘Artists’ Market’ where local vendors can sell their wares, it has just about everything that anyone wants in the Caribbean. The first time I visited the island our entire department left the ship together to check out a private resort around the point from Columbus Cove, Belly Beach. It is place where crew can go if they want to escape the need to be ‘onstage’ with guests even when they are relaxing. The second port day in Labadee, I stayed on the ship as I was working ahead so that I could get off the ship to join Dani and Rosie at Ring Dance. At some point I needed to truly explore Labadee to understand the guest experience. Honest, that is my only reason for taking a three hour break on the island.

I left the ship shortly after 1pm, hoping to catch the tail end of the crew BBQ in Columbus Cove. In swim trunks, t-shirt and sandals I did my best to blend into the tourists and leave my shipboard responsibilities aside. It was about a ten minute walk to the barbeque area and I barely made it before the feast shut down at 1:30pm. I grabbed a sampling of the local fare, a diet coke (which is provided free at the crew barbeque but costs us on the ship!) and settle in the back of the open air pavilion to watch the world go by.

That’s when I had my one disconcerting and troubling moment of the day. I heard someone calling in the rhythmic cadence of Haiti. I couldn’t make out where the voice was coming from.  Yet the voice was persistent and I continued to work on identifying its source. Eventually I could distinguish forms mostly hidden at the far side of a deep grove of trees and underbrush at the boundary of the property. There were four teenage boys calling out trying to get my attention across this swath of jungle. A few seconds later I realized that the foliage was not the only barrier as there was a tall barbed wire fence, similar to what you would see in a prison virtually hidden in the trees. But this barrier separated our private paradise from the reality of Haiti. I understood the reason and know that it is common in that country separating the privileged from the poor. But suddenly the food felt dry in my mouth.

With my mind spinning on the reality of Haiti, I walked through the artist’s village hoping to find something that appealed to me so I could buy something and perform the typical American ritual for absolving our guilty consciences. Sadly, being a guy who really doesn’t yearn for material possessions I could not justify a purchase. Upon reflection, I was glad that our department takes up a constant collection of clothes and donated goods that we deliver to Haiti every time we stop. But I wondered if any of our guests understood the dichotomy of the experience they were enjoying.

For the first time since sailing the Caribbean, I finally got in the water. I found a quiet end of the Cove and stripped down to my trunks and hit the water. The warm sea enveloped me and I floated in mindless reverie. For the next hour I simply let all the stress of the first six weeks of my contract melt away by alternating the warm sun and sand with the refreshing embrace of the sea. My overactive mind finally let itself shut down and get lost in the peace of the moment. Knowing that I had to be onboard shortly after 4pm, I started the slow walk up the beach and climbed the rocky path over the edge of the point back to the tip of the peninsula. Before I caught the path back to the ship I made the decision to check out the Atlantic side. I’m glad I did.

There it was, in all its glory, the longest zip line over the Atlantic. Starting high up on the hill above the water a zip line emerged from the canopy of the trees above and ran down the entire coast over the Atlantic reaching the beach only after barely skimming over the water in its last few feet. I watched the thrill seekers enjoying the ride, as close as most of them would ever come to flying without an airplane. And as I watched, I knew one thing for certain. I needed to do this before we left the Caribbean.

My liberty almost complete, I rejoined the path to the ship, refreshed and as relaxed as I had been in over a year. And as I walked onto the ship, I found myself humming. In a few minutes I would reach my stateroom, shower, and put on my uniform. I had a class to teach in about half an hour, reports to file, and guest encounters to engage in.

Labadee, Labadah, life goes on, oh! La, la, la, la, life goes on.

And the adventure continues . . .

Shopping Like a College Student

February 28, 2012 – Shopping Like a College Student

A market perched near where a cruise ship docks becomes as close to a university’s student union shop as anything I’ve ever experienced. For those of us who live on ship these stores are a lifeline to the ‘normal lives’ we left behind. We do have a Crew Shop but it is the size of a large master bedroom closet. The span of products is limited and the diversity of choices of each item is generally limited to one. Two if you are lucky.

Such is the boon bestowed about the CVS Pharmacy facing the dock in San Juan. It is an eclectic general store, with enough diversity in offering to entice but rarely enough to get exactly what you want. But both selection and price beat the crew shop so they are a favorite of cruise ship crews. On my exploration of San Juan they were my last stop approximately an hour before we sailed. With just a few necessities to purchase I had plenty of time to remind myself of the other things that I was missing from life at home.

I was not alone among the crew in my shopping adventure. In fact, of the 200 plus people who were crowding into this store fully 80% were compatriots from the Silhouette. The interesting part of this, of course, is that no one is in uniform. Okay, in truth, no one is supposed to be in uniform, although some of the old deck and engine officers believe that if they simply remove their epaulets and name badges they will look like everyone else. An absurd pretense, to be sure. But with everyone in civvies, the number of double-takes that occur when you realize this is another CM who has simply ‘let their hair down’ makes it appear to be a poorly written comedy show. The bigger trick is to convince people to let you have your anonymity for this brief moment. Unfortunately, the number of ‘Good evening, sir’s that I had to field became frankly irritating. Here I was in shorts, t-shirt, and tennis shoes and I could not shed my alter ego. Finally, after one crew member had greeted me in the third consecutive aisle I found myself exclaiming, “in this place I am simply Dave,” which seemed to catch the poor soul by complete surprise.

But I was there for shopping. With the necessities quickly dispensed, I allowed myself to wander of a few minutes to identify what comforts I might like to bring ‘home’ with me. Of course the answer led to food. This may sound ridiculous when you live in a floating hotel where you can access a plethora of food almost 24 hours a day. But it is amazing what isn’t available. First, and most importantly, there are no Butterfinger candy bars! As soon as I saw the bag of Butterfinger minis I found myself transported to a kinder, gentler land thousands of miles away. Before I could leave the candy aisle, I spotted that amazing seasonal treat already on display, Cadburry cream filled chocolate eggs! I quickly snatched two to serve as special treats in place of the desserts I generally avoid. With my sweet tooth now satisfied, my urge for salt dominated my expedition. Salted peanuts were next tossed in next to the chocolate, shampoo, mouthwash, deodorant, and shoe polish. Yes, we serve salted peanuts in our lounges, but at the cost of a drink to snag the peanuts, buying a jar for my stateroom was an economical choice. Finally, as I stood in line I stared at my last temptation, trying not to succumb. It had been so long and I thought I was through with this temptation. But finally my more base urges won out. I grabbed the bag of Sun Chips, the first potato chips I had desired in two months.

I then stood patiently in line with crew mates of every stripe, and the few bemused locals. When I unpacked my treasures in my stateroom, I felt a deep feeling of satisfaction that my home away from home was now a bit closer to complete.

And I felt a deeper kinship with every college student in the world.

And the adventure continues . . .

An Evening in San Juan

February 27, 2012 – An Evening in San Juan

Sometimes the third time IS the charm My first port call to San Juan was on my third day on ship. As such, I really didn’t’ have much of an opportunity to visit the port. My one brief excursion was to walk two blocks to the CVS Pharmacy just off the dock to pick up the few necessities which I had identified I was lacking.  The second time in San Juan I was actually leaving the ship to join Dani and Rosie in Richmond for Ring Dance. Finally, on this cruise I was able to explore this unique American port.

But all good things are worth a wait, and my day in San Juan was no exception. I had two separate training classes to conduct, and by the time I was done at 3pm, Laura and Lavern were both off the ship. So, I bided my time continuing to work in the office with one eye on the clock hoping they would return soon. Fortunately, we had a late departure from Puerto Rico that evening, not scheduled to sail until 10pm. By 5:30pm Laura called to say she was back on ship and I bolted to my stateroom to get changed and go ashore.

It is rare that we are in port when the sun sets, so immediately as I left the ship I realized I was in for a unique experience. The sun was near the horizon as I reached the end of the dock which encouraged me to snap away with my camera as the light of evening began to fade. As soon as you leave the dock you experience the first facet of life in Puerto Rico. Traffic. Cars were literally bumper-to-bumper as they crawled along the boulevard that fronted the harbor. On the one hand that can be intimidating for one trying to cross to the other side. On the other hand the traffic is generally moving so slowly that you can pick your spots to cross ensuring that you are making good eye contact with drivers as you weave between the cars. While I was open to experiencing any surprises that San Juan presented I did have a three-fold mission. Since San Juan is an American port and my cell phone coverage applies I definitely needed to call family. Second, there are always supplies that one looks for at local ports and I was told there was a Walgreens ‘up the hill’ that I should visit. Finally, Allen, our fitness center manager told me there was a nearby Starbucks. A good cup of coffee and free WiFi were certainly beckoning me.

But with no map and no escort this was definitely going to be an exploratory strike. The problem with the streets at the end of the dock is that they radiated in multiple directions. ‘Up the hill’ could lead you to a lot of different choices. However, knowing that the journey is as important as the destination I simply started to walk. Taking random turns and continuing to climb the hill I soon found myself on the ramparts of the Old Fort just as the sun was dipping below the horizon. The views were breathtaking as the harbor unfolded below me. As the natural light faded the lights in the plaza below began to illuminate. Like moths attracted to the flame, people started to stream into the plaza from every side as the street market opened. Moments later, music wafted up to the top of the fort emanating from a band hidden by the trees.

I needed to follow the music so I wound my way down staircases and narrow allies to the town square. In the few minutes it took me to get there the plaza had filled with people. The music played, the street market was in full swing, and many people had set up folding chairs just to sit, converse, and take in the activity. The energy was invigorating. I wandered randomly through the square checking out different booths and contemplating what savory delicacies would entice me from the food vendors. All too quickly, the time had flown by and I realized I needed to forgo my expedition to the Walgreens and settle for the CVS near the ship to meet my needs. Starbucks would have to wait for another time.

It turns out that the hidden Starbucks was only two blocks from the ship along a different radius. But no matter, for I had found what I really needed as I wandered the streets on a Sunday evening in San Juan.

And the adventure continues . . .