A Day in Malta

May 9, 2012

In the midst of the crazy day at dock in Malta, I was blessed to discover another fascinating port. Tim, Karen, and I took the 20 minute walk up the hill from the dock to the ancient city of Valetta. Once leaving the terminal and Maltese immigration, you first walk along a charming dock and a stretch of cafés. Halfway down the pier Karen, as she did in Barcelona, encountered a former crew mate. This lady was now working at a restaurant at the dock, having left the ship but never gotten quite far from it! We then proceeded up the dramatically steep hill and eventually reached the gates to the ancient fortress city. The Knights of St. John of the Cross were the ‘defenders of Christianity’ against the Islamic armies which invaded Europe. This group is also known as the Knights of Malta. They built this fortress after having failed to protect Malta from invasion on previous occasions. It is certainly an impressive fortress and filled the bill of being an impenetrable line of defense. Tourists, however, now consistently breach the ramparts.

By the time we entered this World Heritage Site, we had worked up quite an appetite and made a beeline for the outdoor cafés which filled the square boarded by the cathedral and the National Library. We sat down at a table but found it hard to get the attention of a server. We didn’t understand how this worked with different ‘restaurants’ owning different rows of this large open air seating area. Karen worked to get one server’s attention but he wasn’t authorized to serve our section. However, he did like the attention from this very friendly British lass and ended up making sure he passed by our table frequently trying to make continued eye contact with Karen. Ah, Karen made a new friend. ;-)  Finally, we enjoyed a lovely meal and with our caloric needs fulfilled we began to browse the shops. On a side alleyway we found a small grocer who stocked a plethora of Cadbury chocolates which made the day for all of us. I’m sure our security checkpoint loved scanning our bags on the way back and wondering how we were going to consume all the chocolate we had purchased. Full disclosure: we bought most of it as gifts for others. Honest. Seriously . . . Trust me.

We were having such a good time shopping that I almost forgot one of the key reasons I wanted to visit Valetta. It wasn’t until we crossed paths with our Qsine Maitre D’, Andrea, who talked about the hundreds of pictures she had taken in the last hour and a half that I remembered I really wanted to tour the interior of St. John’s Basilica. So, I parted company with Karen and Tim and circled back to the church built by the Knights. The outside is large and impressive but bears the simplicity of architecture of a military fortress. However, once you get inside you are overwhelmed by the intricate beauty of all the decorative elements from the marble floors to the detailed decorations in the ceiling to the opulent side chapels and stunning main sanctuary. Finally, there is an art gallery of all the pieces that they didn’t keep in the main church that reaches the point of being way too much frosting on that very rich cake. Like Andrea I found myself lost in the beauty of the moment, so much so that I had to hurry back down the hill to ensure I made it to our ship before sailing.

That is, of course, when I met those two guests. But that story you heard yesterday, And as Paul Harvey used to say, “Now you know . . . the rest of the story.”

And the adventure continues . . .

Calm Day Goes Awry

May 8, 2012

Some days just seem to be slightly out of kilter. And today was one of them. There was nothing terribly wrong with today, but the entire rhythm was a bit off. It actually started a few days ago. Prior to the beginning of each cruise I create a training schedule for the duration of the voyage. This is done after discussions with several other departments, chief of which is Safety so that all of their critical training is properly covered and I account for the very important Crew Boat Drill that needs to take place. In fact, the Boat Drill sets the agenda for the entire day on which it occurs and is a centerpiece around which most of the other days of the schedule are laid out. And this fact defines where today’s problems began.

On this voyage, just after the schedule was set and published, the decision was made to change the date of this critical activity. As we would be visiting our port of registry, Malta, for the first time since Silhouette came on the water last July, it was recommended that the drill occur on that day. It was also a possibility that our flag authority would wish to conduct a public health inspection, or a bomb drill, as well. The question remained up in the air for the first few days of our cruise. This resulted in a preemptive adjustment to the cruise schedule and then the need to wait patiently, something I’ve never done well, to see how the day would unfold. The result is that the Boat Drill was moved to this date, and we would find out the rest once the officials were onboard. Tim was aware of the disruption this was causing me and called me shortly after I awoke this morning to invite me to have breakfast with him at the Aqua Spa Café. This café is one of the few venues on the ship to which I do not have access, which is unfortunate as its offerings of healthy options is completely in line with my preferred eating habits. Oddly, though, this kind invitation which I quickly accepted turned out to be for me just one more ‘disruption’ to my regular pattern. However, the funniest part of the day occurred while there when my friend, Yzelle, who serves as our detoxification specialist at the spa came in to procure a extra large canister of coffee. When someone who helps others detoxify from all the bad things in the body shows up to power down the coffee it gives me hope for my lifestyle.

The drill also took on a strange flavor for me. My responsibility during the drill is to be positioned by the Staff Captain or the Safety Officer halfway between the ‘incident’ and the Bridge to act as a messenger if the radios fail to work properly. However, for reasons that escaped me, the Staff Captain decided that for this drill he wouldn’t need to use his Intermediate Communication Officer (me). As a result, I simply ‘hung out’ in the staging area now only wishing this drill to quickly end. When it did end, I knew this had to be a day for a shore excursion.

Tim, Karen, and I had agreed to go into Malta for lunch. Malta is a very impressive view from the port, the first we had seen on this part of our journey. From the deck of the ship you could see the walls of the castle city of Valetta, which had been built by the Knights of St. John who built this fortress to repel Islamic invasions from North Africa centuries ago. That did mean, of course, a significant uphill walk to access this modern city wrapped in antique dressings, but it certainly seemed worth the effort. But I will save the retelling of that excursion until tomorrow. However, the end of the excursion completed my trifecta of the day’s disruptions.

Due to different interests during our visit, I stayed in Valetta for a little longer than Tim and Karen and headed back to the ship shortly before our mandatory onboard time. As I cleared the port terminal and headed along the dock to the ship, two passengers fell in step with me and we began to chat. They were mother and daughter, mid 40s and early 20s, who were taking a vacation together from their home in Hawaii. We had a nice chat about their opinions of the cruise so far and I shared that I worked on the ship, which guests always find interesting. We said goodbye at the gangway and I figured that was it, another successful ‘guest encounter.’ However, that was not to be. I transited the crew corridor on Deck 2 and climbed the crew staircase up to Deck 6 prior to briefly appearing in the guest corridor for the last 50 yards to the doorway back to my cabin.

As I walked down the guest corridor a voice called out behind me, “We know you!” it was the guests whom I had just met. I laughed that we had taken very different routes but ended up in the same place. It turns out they were staying in one of the furthest forward guest cabins very near where the crew doors were back to our cabins. I walked with them as they made it to their cabin and once again bid them adieu. As their key was placed in their lock I turned walked around the corner and opened the crew area door without a further thought. I was five steps past the doorway when I heard a voice again. It was the mother who had decided to follow me and had pushed open the crew door and was invading this private area. “Show me which cabin is yours,” she said. I quickly turned and advised her that she was not allowed in that area and that I was sorry but she would need to return to the guest corridor. She insisted I show her which guest cabin door was mine, which I quickly denied, gently ushering her back out. Now I knew my day had just gotten further complex. No crew is allowed to have guests come into a crew area and I knew that the ship’s cameras had caught her entering the area. For my protection and the protection of the ship I needed to immediately report it to my supervisor and ship’s Security. I am sure she was just curious, but we don’t take any chances when it comes to the potential for any type of risk exposure for our crew and company.

And a trip to Security to report this incident was how I was privileged to end this bizarre day. But one thing you can be sure of working on a cruise ship. No two days are alike. And some are just plain weird!

And the adventure continues . . .

Catania, Sicily

May 7, 2012

This was another port that did not come highly recommended. Since my routine during the first three days of a cruise can be quite full, that was okay. I was willing to spend another day ‘getting ahead’ to allow me more time to explore later in the voyage. But as I ate lunch, again from the open deck on 14, I was intrigued by the duomo that arose majestically from the city less than a mile from the port. After not stretching my legs yesterday I decided to at least take an hour walk ashore to get some exercise and see if I could discover any unexpected delights.

What is it about these European ports that appear that no work has been done on them since WWII? When I finally performed the customary quick change in my cabin and headed ashore, I was once again underwhelmed by the initial impression. So I needed to keep the targeted destination of the beautiful cathedral in mind as motivation to keep me moving forward.

Before we move forward I need to acknowledge how fortunate I am to be able to explore each afternoon in the way that I do. I say that in comparison to the lot of my paisan, Gilad, our Deputy Security Chief. Gilad oversees the security officers who man the gangway at every port. He is an amazingly dedicated and eminently cheerful young man, although given his muscular physique, one with whom you definitely would not want to be at crossed purposes. Every time I get a chance to go ashore there is Gilad still ensuring that security is maintained. Our running joke is that he is ‘still here’ when I leave and will ‘still be here’ when I return. After my sign-off and my subsequent return from vacation, I am sure that Gilad will ‘still be here.’ Thanks, Gilad. A good reminder not to take my privilege for granted.

I ventured through the initial blocks of Catania and must say that for all its uniqueness I could have been walking through the port area of Oakland, CA. But my instincts were soon to pay off. I turned up a narrow side street that would direct me to the piazza di duomo and I was definitely not disappointed. One entire side of the plaza was a beautiful cathedral, and the other three sides were ringed with shops and outdoor cafés. The plaza itself was easily 75 yards long on each edge. Just past the mid-way point were a large fountain and some attendant statuary. The best part, though, were the people. The square simply teemed with life. Some tourists, yes, but the vast majority was local residents who were out for a mid-afternoon coffee or glass of wine, or those who simply wanted to sit on the edge of the fountain and take in the warm sun. After a brief exploration I chose to join them and found a table in a café at the edge of the piazza.

A glass of cool vino blanco seemed like the perfect accompaniment for the moment, and I was delighted that a complementary bowl of olives was also placed on my table. Wine, olives, sun, people-watching, I think my European heritage has been reawakened. I chatted with the waiter for a bit having him help me with forming the Italian phrases of polite conversation as I watched the tableau unfold. I pulled out my camera and did my best to capture the scene. My favorite shot was of an African nun who was striding quickly in full habit across the plaza. I captured her image just as she turned to look back over her shoulder. The dynamic moment with the staid cathedral behind her spoke a lot of the church past and present. As I continued to shoot pictures a blur of red crossed my view finder. It was our photography manager, Daisy, out exploring on one of our loaner bikes. I couldn’t resist taking several shots of her capturing the scene on her own camera. Such are the images that you can see unfold when you take advantage of the chance to sit, relax, sip wine and eat olives.

Duty calls, and the balance must be maintained. I returned to the ship knowing that I look forward to returning to Catania and exploring further . . . or perhaps, just sitting, sipping, and seeing.

And the adventure continues . . .

Napoli . . .

May 6, 2012

I made a choice not to go ashore today per the advice of my friends. I hope this doesn’t offend any Neapolitans but I really didn’t get a lot of positive feedback on this port. First, I heard that this is the Italian port where less English is spoken than any other and the locals took umbrage if you didn’t try to speak Italian. Since my Italian is still very limited that just didn’t sound like fun. Second, I was told that there wasn’t much to see right near the port and it had the typical problems of any large, traffic congested city. So, continuing to perform my port triage I had loaded up today with a number of classes and other projects and commissioned this as another ‘heads down’ day.

As I spoke to others in the offices around me they seemed to share the approach. Several did say that they were going out for an hour, but just for lunch . . . only for lunch. They reminded me that Naples was the birthplace of Italian pizza and at some point I needed to eat here to let one of my staple foods return to its native roots. But after a busy morning, and with a 2:00pm class still on the agenda I had little time to eat so I went upstairs to the Ocean View Café so I could at least see Naples from the ship. It must have been a subliminally implanted behavior for when I went through the buffet I made the choice to grab a slice of the pizza of the day from our food selection. So, officially, I guess I can now say that I did eat pizza in Naples. So I could at least get a view of Naples I ate out on the open deck behind the restaurant, what Tim describes as ‘the garden.’

My first view was dramatic. The volcano, Mt. Etna, stands as a breathtaking backdrop for the city. I positioned myself at a table where I could consider its grandeur while I ate. When my eyes dropped down to the city, though, it was less impressive. While some of the architecture and the number of churches both intrigued me, everything seemed to be crowded far too close together and all share the same dusty patina. It really did not paint an appealing sight.

The next problem that I encountered was the wind. It is important to take into consideration that when I sit outside on Deck 14, it is the equivalent of sitting outside on the roof of a fourteen story building. There were rain showers in the area and the edge of the cells kicked up quite a gust. I watched first in alarm and then in amusement as first pieces of lettuce and then entire croutons began to lift off my plate and take flight. (Not to worry, I did remember our Save the Waves policy and tracked down every escaping bit of food.) Unfortunately, when my plate was finished and my gaze returned to the cityscape the view was no more inspiring than it was before my epicurean distraction. From that vantage point it was easy to return to work and lose myself in the fluorescent corridors of the ship until long after we sailed.

In fairness, I will need to give Napoli a real go some day.

And the adventure continues . . .

Turnaround in Rome - OMG, another Tent!

May 5, 2012

Finally we reached the end of our Atlantic crossing and today we begin the first official voyage of our Mediterranean season. Our initial Turnaround port will be in Rome. Actually, the port is in the city of Civitavecchia, about 45 minutes from Rome. We had completed our winter season initiating each cruise out of Bayonne, NJ, and I was looking forward to the ‘romance’ of Rome.  Boy was I disappointed. Tim had warned me about this the night before. He asked me if I was ready for another tent. In Bayonne, the passenger terminal is fairly unattractive as it appears to be a slightly ‘dressed up’ warehouse. The terminal for the crew, however, is a tent. Perhaps it could more formally be called a garden wedding pavilion. Still, it is a tent over asphalt, with all the charm that conjures up.

But in Civi (yes, we shorthand everything), we were faced with a tent not only for the crew but for the guests, as well! Since we had pulled into port shortly after 4am and we didn’t have to process US immigration, the morning was much more relaxed. So Tim took me on a tour of the facilities, in all their glory, to get me acclimated. I was stunned by the uneven asphalt floor and the large ‘flaps’ that provided entrance and exit locations. On the far right side there were very nice counters and some red carpet approaches that were our efforts to provide a better experience for our guests, but the basic facility was the very definition of austere. As we prepared to receive our crew we realized that proper cordons had not been setup to direct our soon to be arriving mates. With no security in sight our department went to work setting up boundaries to direct the traffic flow and then pulled over large luggage carts for them to stow their bags. One of the benefits here is that the crew members do not have to drag their bags up the gangway. Tim advised me that the charm would only increase when I saw where the crew would be asked to assemble prior to going through security.

The line was to form in front of the public restrooms. What a lovely first impression if this was a crew member’s first contract. I cringed at the thought. Soon, the fifty plus sign-ons arrived and recognizing the less than welcoming environment, Tim and I went out of our way to engage, encourage, and flat out ‘entertain’ our new teammates. Amazingly, the process went incredibly smoothly and in no time at all we had them on the ship and up in our beautiful SKY B conference room to complete their processing. Hopefully that visual image will stick with them far longer than our Turnaround tent.

Another thing that stunned me a bit in Civitavecchia was the security. Don’t misunderstand. They did an excellent job of screening the crew. However, if you were a ship’s officer in uniform you were able to walk through the terminal and out into the parking lot and back to the dock without any screening being done. It bothered me to think that anyone dressed like me could have gone into that parking lot to get any illegal thing and have easy access to the dock. But before you worry about the safety of the ship too much, know that I still would have had to go through the scanners at the top of our gangway. Yes, our security is aware of this little ‘hole’ in the process and ensures that we all get checked one more time.

While there is some charm in the simplicity of the facilities in ‘Rome,’ I’m glad that the majority of our Turnaround Days will be in Venice. Of course I still haven’t seen what that port has to offer, so maybe I better withhold judgment.

And the adventure continues . . .

Pisa!!

May 4, 2012

Today I made a conscious choice to play tourist. The object of my interest was the town of Pisa in Italy. My approach was to take advantage of an opportunity we have available for crew while we are in Europe, the Tour Escort program. Due to the large number of guests that we have on almost every tour, the ship is allowed to send along a crew member or two for free to assist the local tour guide in ensuring the group stays together and no guest is left behind. While free and allowing you to learn about the sites, it can be a bit like herding cats.

I signed up for this tour at the encouragement of my friends in Shore Excursions. When I arrived on the dock 15 minutes before my tour I met our guide and discovered there would be another Tour Escort from our crew, Aleksandra, who is a casino dealer. The bus ride to Pisa from the port city of Livorno was approximately 45 minutes which allowed me the chance to get to know another crew member. Aleksandra is from Macedonia, a nation I knew little to nothing about (at least not in modern times), so we were able to chat our way to our destination.

When we arrived in Pisa there was approximately a kilometer walk from the bus parking lot to the piazza where the famous tower resides. This is a relatively short walk, except for the elderly, but it was fraught with far too many distractions for our 40 guests. Aleksandra and I positioned ourselves at the tail end of the group and found ourselves standing as much as walking as we ensured that no guest got behind us. One of our number was a charming elderly lady from Colorado who was using a walker. There were times when she brought up the rear, but frankly she was not the tardiest of the lot. Eventually, though, we traversed the scant 6/10 of a mile to the famous landmark.

They don’t call it the Leaning Tower of Pisa in Pisa. It is simply, ‘the tower.’ It is the bell tower for the cathedral (duomo) of Pisa. Almost every city that had a duomo had a tower. Also, it is not unusual for buildings to lean in Southern Italy. The water table is so high that when you build structures out of heavy materials like marble, they are bound to sink, albeit unevenly. Once you realize this you are astounded when a building in this part of the world appears to be essentially straight. We stayed with the tour through all the historical and architectural descriptions and then were given time to wander on our own.

The tower does not, of course, stand alone. Next to it, in this beautiful piazza, are the duomo and baptistery which are equally impressive edifices. The whole plaza is surrounded by gift shops and carts and countless restaurants and bars. But the most stunning part of the piazza to me was the beautiful and lush lawn that surrounded the duomo. Even better was the vast expanse of humanity who were taken advantage of this peaceful respite on this sun drench Italian day. I avoided the temptation to have my picture taken ‘holding up’ the tower, although I saw plenty of crew members who would have assisted me in this quest. Instead, I found a relaxing place on the lawn and people watched as tourists and locals intermingled in this grand plaza. Eventually the temptation for something savory did win out, but ‘no’ I did not have pizza in Pisa. Instead a gelato was the perfect complement to my moment of the dolce vita.

All too soon the free time ended. I hustled back to the bus meeting point at the edge of the plaza and was pleased to see that all our guests had made it. The most significant service I had to provide was in sheltering our guests from the overly aggressive vendors who decided that some of them were easy marks. We then reversed our previous trek to return to our bus. Unfortunately, several of our guests decided that they needed a picture of every building, every sign, and every vista that the city provided. One request I have to all my friends. If you are ever on a tour, don’t be ‘that guy/girl.’ Please stay with your group and don’t assume it is your inalienable right to delay others so you can get that perfect picture. Seriously. I don’t care how much you paid for the tour.

I don’t remember the bus ride back. After the relaxing two hour excursion in the warm sun of Pisa, the rocking of the bus knocked me right out. When we hit a bump near the port I awoke with a start and laughed when I saw that Aleksandra had also just been startled awake. What great Tour Escorts we were!

And the adventure continues . . .

The French Navy

May 3, 2012

I hope I’m not required to turn in my French heritage membership card for this entry, but I’ll just have to take my chances. Today we arrived at port in Toulon, France. This is the jumping off point for some lovely French Riviera attractions. However, today I knew I would be doing no jumping off. After all, I had already met my port quota for the cruise and really needed to be far more ‘heads down’ on work today. So, my impressions of Toulon are merely from the harbor, and I must admit, the impressions weren’t favorable.

It started over my morning coffee. As I sat at my favorite table by the window in Café Al Bacio I was met by a most distressing site. It was an old, rusted ship at a terrible list which looked like it had run aground in the harbor. I was stunned that this was my first impression of this port. I had grown to expect little of the actual ports in Europe, but this took it to a new low. I commented to Karen as she brought my morning beverage that I didn’t realize that we were going to get an up close and personal look of the Concordia. Dark humor, yes, but I wasn’t sure how to respond to this initial sight.

As I continued my work day I was able to get above decks a few times to get other views, and they weren’t that inspiring. There appeared to be a significant ‘mothball’ fleet placed at various points in the harbor. Other areas were cordoned off, not allowing access by water, and there were the equivalent of French PT boats which occasionally cruised through the harbor looking like they meant business. While other crew members were able to get off the ship to view the south of France my ‘touring’ took on a far more depressing view.

Subsequent research told me that Toulon is where the French fleet was scuttled during WWII. It obviously has been a preferred graveyard site for military ships since that time. Was the wreckage next to which we berthed a part of that scuttled fleet? I never found out for sure and additional internet research has not provided a clear answer. All I know is that if I ever return to Toulon, France, I need to get ashore so I may develop a more positive memory.

Of course, as I was later to find out going ashore wasn’t always that great, either. Late in the afternoon a distraught crew member arrived at my office door. She had been robbed while out shopping. After having a wonderful day in port she lost focus on her purse for just a minute, long enough for a thief to remove her wallet. Here she was, thousands of miles away from home and needing to cancel and replace all her identification and credit cards. I let her use my office phone to begin that lengthy process and to call her dad for comfort.

Sadly, this did not add anything positive to the view of Toulon. Sorry, ancestors.

And the adventure continues . . .

Beautiful Barcelona

May 2, 2012

Barcelona, Barcelona, Barcelona was all I seemed to hear from those who had visited this beautiful Spanish city before. So there was no question that I would plan to go ashore at our next port. Tim and Karen were adamant about it, so the morning coffee that day was focused on ensuring that we left with enough time to accomplish all we could in that magical city that we would only visit once during our Mediterranean season. We were still, after all, on our crossing, and this would not be a port to which we would return during our season. Paola would not be joining us on this expedition so it would just be our terrible trio.

We left in a reasonably timely fashion although, once again, we seemed to be waiting for Miss Karen. Karen, why is this so since you are the first of the lot of us to get off work each morning? No matter, as we were eager for the trip ashore. Barcelona requires a bus or taxi ride from the terminal to get to our desired destination which is a magnificent pedestrian shopping district through the heart of the city. After some fancy maneuvering around the crowds at the dock we found ourselves a cab and proceeded as planned to Las Ramblas. And ‘ramblas’ we did. Karen ensured we were set for the adventure ahead by frequenting the first money exchange shop she could find. Unfortunately, or ‘fortunately’ depending on your view of things, this money changer was right next door to a rather unusual shop. How can I put this for a PG-13 audience? This was a shop of the ‘adult persuasion.’ Given that it was a fellow Brit’s birthday on the ship, Tim and Karen decided to properly embarrass him with a rather ‘provocative’ gift from this shop. I will say that I was amazed at the imagination that went into the marketing in this shop, was stunned by the bar that was attached to the back, and glad when we managed to escape its environs with a decision not to carry the offending item through the streets of Barcelona but to drop in on the way back.

Las Ramblas was fully engaged with shops, bars, and restaurants from end to end. The decision was that we could find a comparable place to eat for far less than they charged in this more touristy venue and so we strolled the length of the boulevard. As we progressed we saw an innumerable assortment of crew mates enjoying the food and beverage on this happening thoroughfare. The other thing that one needs to look out for in these areas is the omnipresent pickpockets. However, Tim and I were well prepared with very little on our persons and hands free to deflect curious interlopers. Without question, Barcelona is a beautiful city. For the second time in three ports my mind raced to San Francisco, as we combined the city vibe with the beautiful views. Barcelona’s weather was much more temperate, of course, but I know where my heart still is. As we walked to find food we identified other local establishments we wished to frequent on our return trip, which made keeping an eye on the clock of paramount importance.

Eventually we found our desired destination, a tapas restaurant just off Las Ramblas but still enjoying the street café vibe and the excellent Barcelonan food. The meal, as was our pattern, was full of too much excellent food, just enough excellent beverage, and an abundance of laughter, bad photographs, and hysterical conversation. Oddly, though, in a city of this size in a foreign land we did not escape unnoticed. As we approached our lunch spot Karen recognized a passerby on the street, a former crewmate from years past. This is the oddity of ships. You can be in a large foreign city and still see a familiar face!

We dawdled far too long over lunch and realized we needed to hurry to complete our other errands. Tim make a quick and efficient stop for necessaries and then we went to a British Walmart equivalent for clothes (H&M, I think, but my British friends can correct me.) Karen was the prime instigator of this trip and scored large on this excursion, but Tim found an item to his liking, as well. As I casually browsed the store I also found a shirt unlike anything I could find stateside that I absolutely loved. It was the perfect fit. However, when I went to purchase it at the register we found it had no tag and they could not figure out the price. Eventually we agreed on an fair price, but I may now be the proud owner of a very nice and clean shirt left by a former shop lifter. Oh well.

Fortunately for me, our time grew so short that we were not able to return to our original and somewhat compromising establishment. With time of the essence we grabbed a quick cab ride back to the port as our day in Barcelona grew to a close. But Barcelona, I think I love you . . . and I plan to return. Definitely!

And the adventure continues . . .

The Straits of Gibraltar

May 1, 2012

Today we left the Atlantic Ocean as we passed through the Straits of Gibraltar. I’ve been looking forward to this transition to a new ocean since we began the crossing over a week ago. Although I’ve been to Europe a few times before I have never been in the Mediterranean and I’ve been excited by the start of this new experience. From the moment I got up this morning I’ve been counting the hours until we passed through the Straits. Sadly, I would have to wait until the evening. I was clearly not the only one awaiting this moment.

From the moment I hit the floor for my evening walk around to meet and greet guests the number one question was what time we would pass through the Straits. The first time the question was asked provided me with a great opportunity to ‘show off’ just a little. I asked the guest for just one moment while I found out for her and pulled out my deck phone to dial the Bridge. Yes, any one of the crew can dial the Bridge for a valid reason, and finding out the answer to a guest’s question such as this certainly qualified. What made me laugh was that the bridge navigation officer on duty wasn’t able to answer the question immediately. In fairness, it was probably an apprentice deck officer who answered the phone. They asked if they could call me back in just a few minutes and so I spent the time chatting with the guest. Moments later my phone rang and the window of opportunity was identified as between 10:30pm and 11:00pm. The guest was duly impressed with the lengths we would go to provide them with what they needed.

The timing seemed very appropriate as our Celebrity ROX! show was scheduled for tonight on the pool deck at 10:30pm. What better way, I thought, to celebrate the entrance into the Med than with this high energy show on the pool deck. However, due to the cool evening temperatures the show was moved inside to the Grand Foyer. So much for perfectly aligned planets. Lavern, Laura, and I decided that we wanted to watch the sail in through the Straits together and so after catching the first few minutes of Celebrity ROX! we headed to Deck 14. The top decks were already heavily populated with guests as we approached the mouth of the Straits. With three officer uniforms on deck we were immediately besieged with questions. The first one I was sadly not prepared for. “How close are the two continents at the narrowest point of the Straits?” Although I knew it was close it required another call to the Bridge to identify that Europe and Africa are only separated by 7 miles at their closest point. The next question was valid but resulted in a disappointing answer. Would they be able to see the Rock of Gibraltar? Unfortunately, at 11pm there is not much light by which to see this small island. To our north the gentle lights of small villages on the coast of Spain glowed. To our south Morocco was ablaze in light. However, the island would only be identified by the absence of light as it blocked any illumination we would have seen from the European coast. Note to tourist agents: pay to have a Hollywood style sign placed on the Rock of Gibraltar . . . someone will make a killing from the photo concession.

Since Lavern is from the continent of Africa and Laura from Europe we decided to stage our own photo opportunity. With the bright lights of Morocco behind them I took a formal picture of them shaking hands as Lavern welcomed Laura to her continent. Okay, it was a bit dorky . . . but fun. We positioned ourselves at the Sunset Bar aft on Deck 14 and watched the passage with far fewer people to obstruct our view than was the case on the bow of the ship. To commemorate the moment we decided to sit and have a drink to toast the passage. This was ostensibly a good idea but the night was turning quite cold. Fortunately, the kind bartender at the Sunset Bar had an answer for us as he would for any guest, bringing pool towels to drape over our shoulders as blankets to fight off the chill. Of course, being a manly officer I courteously refused his offer, but the intelligent ladies had no such qualms. As the clock struck midnight we decided to call it a night. Although my companions decided this was time for midnight pizza! Not wanting to ‘carb up’ so late I told them I would accompany them but leave the eating to them. However, there were a few sweets that decided to call my name so it was late night calories all around.

But we would need those calories to keep up the pace that the Mediterranean promised was in store.

And the adventure continues . . .

My Future Home - Cadiz, Spain

April 30, 2012

I had no plans to go to port, today. Having just spent a wonderful day in Lisbon the previous day I felt that I was best served by staying onboard and taking only a short break in the afternoon. Part of that was undoubtedly conditioned by my pattern developed in my first three months in the Caribbean of only heading into port two or three days on a given twelve day cruise cycle. So the thought of going ashore in our second port of call never really crossed my mind. But my friend, Lavern, encouraged me to do so. She suggested that I just go in for a brief walk out to the War Memorial and back, a total distance of only a mile. That sounded like a harmless idea with a low investment of time that would allow me to keep my day primarily focused on business.

So approximately 1:30pm I headed ashore. The port itself was uninspiring, as the terminal building through which one needed to pass was a non-descript low slung gray stone building probably built around the Second World War. Once through the building you needed to cross a large parking lot and only when you passed a small portal through a chain link fence did you begin to feel that there was the possibility of sights worth seeing. As I made my way across this unexceptional terrain I encountered our classical music trio returning to the ship. They had taken an early morning tour and were sporting the bright red hats of the tour group emblazoned with the name of the city we were visiting, Cadiz. When I asked them how the tour was their response seemed ambivalent at best so my expectations were limited for what lay ahead. As I reached the main boulevard at the far end of the terminal facility I could get a glimpse of the monument in the war memorial plaza and made a beeline for my destination. The four blocks I walked to get to the plaza could have been downtown streets in virtually any city in the world.

The War Memorial Plaza, however, was far more magical. The square was lined with trees and small planters. I walked through the bay side entrance and was immediately transported into another time and another style of life. The plaza was paved and led up to an oversized marble tribute to those who had fought for the freedom of Spain throughout history. Its large size made you stop to take it all in before entering too deeply into the square. As I did I noticed a cluster of young teens hanging out on the wall in front of the monument, obviously a favorite place for them to gather in the middle of the afternoon. Off to my right a very young boy and his father passed a soccer ball back and forth. As the child was probably only four or five, the lad’s kicks were often directed into the bushes rather than toward his father. But something about these tranquil vignettes of modern life in the shadow of this imposing statuary made me take notice. I had often viewed Europe through the lens of monuments, museums, and castles. Now I saw that those were merely the backdrop to the day-to-day experiences of people just like me. I sat on a bench in the plaza for a few minutes to take it all in which in turn motivated me to explore more.

I headed off along narrow allies leading away from the plaza and up the hill. I did not worry about street names or finding my way back as I knew that if I just headed back downhill toward the port I couldn’t help but find my floating home. Each alley captivated me, though, whether through its architecture, the juxtaposition of pastel colors against the bright blue Spanish sky, or the significant amount of trees and plants that lined each way. I continued up the hill to discover what was on the other side, and my efforts were soon rewarded.

Just over the hill was another magnificent vista as a long promenade ran along a sea wall that looked down on the other side of the peninsula on which Cadiz rests. Enthralled I walked along the sea wall admiring the beautiful park at the near end, the intriguing Moorish elements that decorated the wall, and the expanse of ocean that led off into the distance. As I reached the far end of the peninsula I came upon two other groups of Spanish teens, a group of girls perfecting a rhythmic chant and dance and a group of boys playing soccer, and apparently trying to impress the girls, on a cracked and weedy bit of asphalt. A construction wall bordering new development provided another interesting backdrop as it was decorated with some of the most intriguing and colorful graffiti I have ever had the opportunity to see.

My wanderings had now taken me well beyond the one hour time frame I had allotted and I headed back in the direction of the port. Yet each street down which I walked provided me with such visions of placid beauty that I wanted nothing more than to stop and drink it all in. I turned down another side street hoping to stop to grab a coffee from a street café. However, just as I did I noticed that the shops were beginning to close, as the afternoon siesta time was upon us. I continued on until I reached the original plaza. I returned to a bench and let myself relax as the warm southern European breeze comforted me. The style of life here had intrigued me and my mind explored how quickly I could become conversant in Spanish and what employment opportunities might be available in this enchanting city.

My reverie was broken by a familiar sight, as our photographers on the red bicycles entered the square. They stopped to chat and we shared our mutually positive experiences of Cadiz. Yet, their presence reminded me that it was time for me to return to ship and work. Unfortunately, Cadiz is a city we will rarely visit as it is only a port we encounter during our crossing. But it is certainly a city that makes your mind wander and imagine the possibilities.

And the adventure continues . . .

Arriving in Europe - Lisbon, Portugal

April 29, 2012

Never before have I been so happy to see land! After six days at sea crossing the Atlantic, and not a very ‘kind’ six days, we finally arrived today in Lisbon, Portugal. The storm that we had encountered leaving NY Harbor seemed to follow us in one form or another during our entire crossing. Yesterday as we awoke we did see the coastline of the Azores slip by, but it was not a stopping point for this journey. However, today we made port, and Lisbon, Portugal became my new favorite destination.

I met my manager, Tim, for coffee in the morning and we agreed that we would definitely make time to go ashore. Karen, the lead server at Café al Bacio where we have our morning coffee, and more importantly a good friend, would also accompany us on this first shore excursion in Europe for the 2012 season. We agreed to meet at 12:30pm at the gangway and we would then wander where the winds and fortunes would take us. By 11:30am I was itching to leave the ship but somehow we kept our heads down and on our work until the clock struck noon. Seconds later, I popped my head into Tim’s office to ask if he was ready to venture forth. He was almost as anxious as I was and we quickly closed up our offices and headed up to our cabins to change. With great alacrity we completed the transformation and headed down to the gangway to meet Karen. Of course, she was delayed. In our impatience we tried to call her cabin but there was no answer. Despite our irrational impatience she arrived only a few minutes later.

Karen arrived with another crew member in tow. I recognized her as one of the other al Bacio servers, Paola from Columbia. She would complete our happy quartet as we descended upon the shores of Lisbon. The only bad thing about this first shore excursion is that it was raining. But being the proper gentlemen that we are both Tim and I had umbrellas in hand. We gallantly escorted the ladies along the dock and off to wherever the fates would lead that day. I will admit I was at first caught by surprise by Paola grabbing my arm and nestling close under the umbrella. Americans can be easily flustered by physical proximity of strangers, but Paola was certainly not going to let my discomfort result in her getting wet, and it allowed a quick introduction and chance to form instant friendship. We truly had no idea where we were going but the promenade along the shore was a welcome respite to our almost weeklong isolation on the ship.

We knew we wanted to grab lunch but we didn’t want to limit our options by choosing too quickly. We passed the initial restaurant offerings pausing only briefly to admire the amazing display of freshly caught fish (seemingly far more interesting to Paola and me than to our British friends), and laughing at the iconic look of the young Portuguese men already gathered and arguing loudly in the shorefront restaurants. We continued to walk looking for a particularly authentic Portuguese place to eat. We found one restaurant that looked promising but it was so packed with locals that we decided that we would not happily endure the half an hour wait. So, we journeyed on.

We paused for pictures by the ancient battlement on the harbor but quickly realized that our blood sugar was crashing faster than new places to dine were presenting themselves. By this point we were beginning to border on grumpy. We reversed our course and returned to our previous choices. We narrowed our field to two. Either we could wait in line for the more authentic fare, or take advantage of an Italian eatery that had a much more modest wait. Paola and I were more inclined to wait for a truly Portuguese meal but Tim’s blood sugar had bottomed out and he easily convinced our empty stomachs to enter the Italian eatery. After a very brief wait we were seated and were not disappointed. Although Italian in theme it still had the benefit of being in Lisbon. Paola and I both ordered the seafood lasagna which at that point tasted like the finest meal we had ever consumed. Tim and Karen were equally enamored of their choices. The addition of a local wine certainly added to the meal’s zest.

Happily fed we enjoyed a much more lively walk along the shore back toward the ship. On the way we discovered a park with exercise stations positioned along its length. We decided to burn off our midday calories by playing on that equipment which resulted in great fun and pictures worth framing. As we continued along the promenade I realized how much Lisbon reminded me of San Francisco with its bay side location and its eclectic offerings of food and diversion. Lisbon may have upped the ante, though, with its replica of both the Golden Gate Bridge and the Christos from Sao Paola! We arrived back at the ship full of great food, stronger friendships, and amazing memories.

And this was only the first day in Europe!

And the adventure continues . . .

Four Weeks to Prepare

April 28, 2012

Suddenly time seems short. This continues the odd relationship with time that I’ve felt since I’ve been on the ship. When I awoke this morning I realized that I have less than four weeks before I sign off. And suddenly, the contract that one thinks will never come to an end is rapidly reaching its conclusion. On the one hand the rhythm of ship life says that the day that I leave will be just like any other day in the life of this floating community, and the day after I am gone will simply follow the prescribed pattern. To that end, as long as the hand off is smooth then there is little for which to prepare.

But the knowledge that an ‘ending’ is imminent always drives me. What did I want to accomplish in this first contract that I didn’t? How do I need to ensure that the handoff is smooth? What should I do to prepare for my return less than two months after I depart? The answer to the first question is a loaded one. When I first arrived I had no expectations other than to learn my job and make an honest contribution within the position’s defined parameters. Consequently, I had no expectations of any additional accomplishments. Yet, as I’ve learned the position, become comfortable with this new life and my service to the crew, and imagined myself continuing with Celebrity for some time to come, my desire to make a greater difference grows. I start to see how I could have been even more effective in my job. This makes me wonder if there are some ‘quick wins’ that I can accomplish in the next four weeks. I do know that I need to effectively ‘hand over’ my position to my vacation replacement. However, knowing little of how comfortable she is in this job and what her work style is like, I find myself unsure of how best to effect that transition. It will definitely require flexibility on my part. And while I’d like to establish a foundation for my return in July, much will happen in my absence that limits how effective that preparation might be. Crew will change, officers will change, new directives will arrive, all of which will mean that the environment on July 21^st, while familiar, will have notable differences.

Still, there is a new sense of urgency. Each day now seems to end far too quickly. I am making progress in advancing my impact beyond the normal routine, but each day I become aware of there being even more that I could do. I have lived this before in other jobs, of course, and I always reach the end before I’m ready. With the pace on ships, I’m afraid four weeks will seem a frightfully short amount of time. I know that all I can do is my best, but my typical ‘demons’ are beginning to haunt me.

Will my best be good enough?

And the adventure continues . . .

Honorary South African

April 27, 2012

Have I told you that I’m an honorary South African? Perhaps I have as it is a title that I wear proudly. But since I don’t see an entry labeled as such I thought I’d dedicate a day to describing this interesting association. As previously described, there are not a very large number of Americans on the crew. In fairness, we are the fourth or fifth largest group. And I do associate with a number of my countrymen and countrywomen. However, given that many of them are entertainers and generally are working when I am free and vice versa, it creates an opportunity for me to frequently socialize with friends from different nations.

The catalyst for the South African connection is my friend, Lavern, who serves as the Crew Administrator on our ship. She is, of course, a direct co-worker of mine as she is a member of the Human Resources department. Lavern is from Durban in South Africa, and recently began to spend more time having lunch or dinner with two of her compatriots, Alrico and Princess. I had already gotten to know Alrico who is a dancer in our production cast. He and I had shared breakfast a couple of times in the crew mess. Princess is the Event Coordinator for the ship. I had worked with her before, but not with any frequency. So, as Lavern began to dine with the two of them more often, I would occasionally join their company. The best part about this group was how they would linger over meals. The conversation was always entertaining and you never knew which direction it would turn. Those meals turned into invitations by Lavern to join them late in the evening after Alrico finished his show in ‘William’s Bar.’ Now, there is not any official ‘William’s Bar’ on the ship, but rather, it is the Passport Bar where another South African, William, is the bartender. William would enjoy trying out new drink recipes on his mates, so you never knew what the day’s ‘nightcap’ would be. What you were assured of was that you would have more than a few additional laughs.

I was not the only honorary South African in the group, however, as our new International Hostess, Laura, was also brought into the crowd. Laura is half German and half Dominican, which makes for a very fun combination of cultures. The key to fitting into this South African circle seemed to be a willingness to completely accept each member of the group and a desire to laugh and enjoy whatever life threw at you. What was especially fascinating for me was to simply learn firsthand about this country of which I am amazingly ignorant. Except for the history of apartheid, the leadership of Nelson Mandela, and wonderful South African wines, I was fairly clueless. To hear about the beautiful diversity of their country’s geography and culture makes me know that I truly wish to travel to the far southern tip of Africa one day. Hearing the regional rivalries between Alrico from Cape Town and Lavern from Durban made me think of many a discussion I have had with Southern Californians. More profoundly, to hear from a black South African how the end of apartheid created its own set of problems and that her life was not wholly improved by the change was certainly a startling insight into the complexity of the geopolitical landscape.

But as a result of their hospitality I wear my dual citizenship proudly. Their willingness to embrace this middle-aged American definitely has made me a better, more enriched, and wiser person. I hope that my friendship with them will bless them even 1/10^th of how they have blessed me.

And the adventure continues . . .

A Plan Comes Together

April 26, 2012

My on again, off again, on again, off again, on again, off again relationship with my sign-off date is back on again. I heard today that a anew vacation replacement has been identified for me to allow me to take my vacation on 5/25. Her name is Jackie and she has been training on ships for the past three months after a long career with the company shore side. So this means she understands the company and the product even if she still may be learning the unusual life that we live on board.

This is certainly a relief, especially in the context of having Rosie join me onboard for the last eight days of my contract. I was starting to conclude that she would be joining me for these eight days but then I would be staying aboard as she walked down the gangway to head home. I know that would definitely not be her preference, nor mine. Now it appears that I will be able to leave on that date and we should be able to move forward according to plan. Since I’m already scheduled to return to work on 7/16 In Miami prior to heading back to the ship in Athens, this means I will have approximately seven weeks of vacation before I return to ships.

I’m pleased that my replacement has familiarity with the company as that means she will have a general sense of what we are trying to accomplish here. This is definitely a step above someone who would be joining the company brand new. At the same time, the way things are diagrammed at corporate as to how they are supposed to work and how they actually work in practice are two different things. My goal will be to sensitize her to the very personal and ‘outside the box’ approaches that I feel are critical to on ship service as a T&D Manager. No matter ‘what’ you choose to do on ship the key is ‘how’ you choose to do it. I believe your motivation needs to be an absolute ‘love affair’ with the crew. If your motivation is not to simply make them better at everything they do then I believe you will fall short of the goal.

We will have three days of overlap. In those 72 hours I will try to familiarize her with the unique environment that is Silhouette and ensure she has the details she needs to be successful. It will be tricky, no doubt, with Rosie on board, our anniversary in the midst of that, both Tim’s and Dwight’s birthdays in that range, and my mind wandering forward toward vacation. I will do my best to stay structured and focused and hope she will do the same.

However, I now believe with approximately four weeks to go that I have a reasonable shot of ending my first contract and being rewarded with my first vacation. The key for me will be to make this department as ‘clean’ as possible when I leave and provide Jackie the tools to be equally successful so that when I return to Silhouette she will be positioned to be the best in the fleet.

Let’s hope this schedule doesn’t change again!

And the adventure continues . . .

Sticking My Neck Out

April 25, 2012

I’ve never been the kind of guy to let things be less than they can be. And there is one event that has occurred during my contract that has simply stuck with me as in need of repair. If you read my late March entries, you may remember that we had a Starring Crew event at which three vice presidents from Corporate made their appearance. It was a day to celebrate the crew but came across as more of a corporate dog and pony show. When I expressed my concerns to more experienced offers they essentially told me to let it go. They had learned to simply smile, tell corporate that everything was wonderful, and put it in their rear view mirror until next time. But that’s not my style. If there is a way to make things better I believe that we should pursue it.

So, on my recent conversation with our T&D Manager in Miami, I decided to broach the subject. I trust Lisa a lot and felt that if I could express my concerns in a way that might generate an improvement of the process than it was my obligation to not leave things as they were. I put this topic at the end of the conversation and then prefaced it as an issue I felt was important but didn’t know how it would be received. I told Lisa how much I trusted her and that I felt this conversation was a safe place to express my concerns. I consciously set all of this up in the way I did so that she was clear that I wasn’t attacking the people at corporate. I do know that in many, many companies, it is not well received to tell the Emperor he has no clothes on.

I could hear the ‘oh no, what’s coming next’ in her voice, but to her credit she encouraged me to share. I told her that I thought that the idea of a Starring Crew visit was excellent and consistent with our company’s philosophy of investing in our crew. However, I pointed out that there were several points of execution in the visit that created the exact opposite impact on the crew than what our distinguished visitors intended. I immediately followed up by saying that each one of these was easy to address and I shared this concern so that we could ‘tune up’ these visits before they occurred in this way again. My question to her was whether these senior leaders would be open to feedback and what would be the best way to share it with them.

Lisa remained encouraging at the end of my dissertation, but I could see her mind spinning even across a thousand miles of ocean. She thanked me for sharing the information and was concerned, although not surprised, that many shipboard officers had simply decided to let it slide. However, I could tell she knew that how this was presented to senior management was as important as the actual message, lest the message not be heard. She suggested that I prepare a draft email of what I would say to the executives for her to review before we presented the information to them. I agreed that this was a prudent first step and felt that I could accurately present the concerns while maintaining a positive tone. I created a one-page email that centered on a simple table that described the parts of the process that needed to be addressed, the less than desirable impact it had, and finally a column that suggested simple fixes for the problems. I opened and closed the email in a way that honored the effort and time of our Senior VPs so that they would, hopefully, not feel personally attacked. We scheduled a phone call for a few days later to ensure that we continued to move this item forward.

Fortunately, Lisa’s response to my email was extremely positive. She liked both the content and the tone and said she wouldn’t change a word. However, she felt this was a message better shared in person and not by email and asked if I would be okay with her sharing the message in an upcoming conversation she was to have with our VP of Human Resources. I agreed with her approach and waited to hear the result. While there is a natural defensiveness that will always rise up in business when we feel one of programs has been attacked, Lisa’s take on her conversation with Jay was that he was very appreciative of the feedback and felt that we would go a long way toward improving that next time. Several of the factors he felt were a direct result of trying to do two ships in one day, especially when one was under OPP Level 2. While not wholly embracing my suggestions he did understand the concern and felt that they would implement processes next time that would create a far more positive impact.

Was I being simply ‘blown off’ by corporate on this concern? I don’t think so as I believe that Celebrity is a company that truly cares. Will it all change and be perfect over night? Of course not, that’s not the way the world works. But it pleases me to know that in this case doing the right thing and not ignoring the problem at least has the potential to make a difference.

“Behold the turtle who only makes progress when he sticks his neck out.” I hope that my willingness to stick my neck out on this issue will result in at least small steps in a positive direction.

And the adventure continues . . .

Cabin Fever at Two Days

April 24, 2012

Despite the Captain’s predictions the weather is not getting better. We have completed our second full day of gale force winds mostly accompanied by driving rain. When I first awaken in the morning I flip on the TV to see the bridge cam. It is never a good sign when the windshield wipers are going. The Captain thought we would be out of this storm by mid-afternoon of the second day, but the storm seems to be sliding east perfectly in sync with our course and speed. Boy, were we spoiled in the Caribbean.

Although I’ve stayed inside for two full days before there is something about this crossing that has definitely given me a major case of cabin fever. Part of it is definitely the weather that just makes it very unpleasant to stand on decks for more than a few seconds. Every time I try, I slink back in with a feeling of defeat. The second part may be that I know I won’t see land for five days nor have a chance to get off the ship for six. What you can’t have you always want. I have always been ‘solar powered,’ so the thought of being under artificial light for all that time is already affecting my mood.

The guests have generally been in good spirits so far. However, I noticed that after this afternoon’s intended change in climate came and went with no relief from the storm that their good humor was beginning to fade. Many have been on crossings before and so know that the weather is always questionable. But for those who are new to the game I think they have been caught by surprise. When you are in the Caribbean or the Mediterranean you generally expect nice weather. When you are at sea and not in port you can often steer your ship to avoid the worst of the weather. But when you have 2500 miles of ocean to cover you can’t be chasing the sun. The thought was that since we were supposed to have good weather on the crossing that we would ensure that some of our favorite outdoor guest interactions would take place, such as Officer Pool Volleyball and Officer Guest Bocce. However, each has been scratched from the schedule as the rain continues to fall and the wind continues to blow. Our jealousy towards Eclipse and her perfect crossing seas and sky are increasing every day.

If this continues for the next four days they will need to redecorate my cabin with new wallpaper. I will be ready for the rubber room. In the meantime we hope for a break and begin counting down not just the days, but the hours, until we reach Europe. And this only two days in with four days to go . . . or 96 hours . . .

And the adventure continues . . .