Christmas Cruise - Part 3

Day 3: Christmas!

The plan for Christmas was to stop at Coco Cay, a private island owned by Royal Caribbean in order to spend a day chilling on the beach. My goal was to go snorkeling, my dream was to go snorkeling with the (nurse) sharks that are known to frequent the beaches tourists don't.  But on Christmas we awoke to the captain's voice. "Goooood morning ladies and gentleman,  buenas mananas damas y caballeros..." letting us know that due to the rough seas we would not be stopping at and tendering to Coco Cay. So we went back to bed.

At late breakfast, pondering a day at sea we (Ladies, Gentleman, Damas, and Caballeros) were greeted with another message, informing us that we would be stopping by Freeport due to a Medical Emergency.  Kicking off twice as fast, the ship veered off course and headed up to just outside Freeport harbour, where we lashed up to a tug, transferred our passangar, and spun ourselves around to head back out into the seas.

Four limbs. Unrelated: Ethan designed that shirt.

It seems you need to keep 2800 passengers occupied, because - just like slaves - you never know what would happen if we were forced to occupy ourselves.  To this end there were trivia games (which our cousin's encyclopedic knowledge of popular music won half of), there were dodgeball games (which we won all of, though having members on 3 of the 4 teams makes that easier), and there was Christmas caroling, which nobody won (though, you know, we were awesome at it). We even got out to the climbing wall. After climbing the toughest (5.9) route the right way, we set about making it harder for ourselves by banning limbs, impressing all the seven year olds we were in line with, and - when dad played along - most of their parents.

Three limbs... Two limbs.... The next climber is facing a real challenge.

Dinner was delicious and punctuated by all the wait-staff singing Christmas carols and dancing (Some wearing santa hats on their heads, others wearing napkins, tea cups, or stuffed fish on their heads). After dinner was Reid Belstock - the professional and amazing juggler, unicycler, yoyoist, and all around entertainer. His banter, mannerisms, and acts were funny in the ways clowns should be (but aren't) while being deft and more coordinated than I could ever hope to be. My favorite act involved him throwing a bowling ball and catching it on his head.... but I'll let you youtube it so as not to spoil it.  After Reid came more trivia and the "Quest - The Adult In-room Scavenger Hunt!"  I elected to finish my book and go to bed early, but my brothers and mother all went, so if Adam gets a gift certificate to a therapist next christmas, you'll know why.

Day 4: Key West

The last day on the cruise we visited Key West, which had a Bahamas-meets-New England Shore feel. We started the day with a ride on the tourist-train, a disguised propane-powered jeep that pulls several trailers filled with tourists. Through some reconnaissance and a solid basketball-style pick we claimed the back seat as our own, and our driver eventually sat off across the island, pointing out local highlights as we went. We passed Earnest Hemingway's old house - still filled with 6-toe'd cats, and saw "The Southernmost House", "The Southernmost Southernmost House", and the "Southernmost Point" in the 48 United States. You know, except for the military base to the south of it, the private key to the south of that, and Fort Taylor State Park - but it has a giant immovable buoy that replaced the oft-stolen sign for a great photo-op, presuming you don't mind standing in line to take a picture of a repurposed sewer junction.

We bailed on the last leg of the tour, returned to the ship for lunch - as is our habit - and to change! We threw on our suits (bathing, not three-piece) and grabbed the suitcase of snorkel gear and set off to the beach - which was in Fort Taylor State Park and thus 200' further south than the southernmost point. After a 15 minute walk and a surprise park-usage fee, we got to the beach and set about snorkeling! To be honest, I gave up snorkeling after swimming around the cloudy water for 5 minutes with no sign of fishes. Reports from Adam and our father indicate that there were over a dozen fish to be seen if you looked hard enough, but I was chilly enough I stopped worrying about fish and climbed up on the rocky islets to look around, annoy the seagulls, and ultimately dive from.  The beach wasn't too inspiring, and rather uncomfortable since the lack of waves hasn't bashed all the sharp coral into sand.  Once we'd finished bothering the sea/air creatures and playing on rocks we headed over to the fort itself, which was huge.

It used to have two more levels until changes in naval strategy and armament meant that being a harder-to-hit single story was a smarter choice. It came complete with a moat, and the roof was so thick that 15 foot cannons were used to reinforce the concrete. Unfortunately, there was nothing super photogenic about it (at least, not in the areas you were allowed to visit) and the adjacent military base and security discouraged photography enough I didn't bother, at least not until Ethan discovered his head was the same diameter as the mortar.

Profile picture? Profile picture.

Somewhat worn out but glad we managed to get in the ocean at least once on our tropical holiday, we headed back to the ship where (after a brief stop as security confiscated the knife I'd forgotten I had) we cleaned up for dinner. But before we could eat, we went watch push-off and the exit of the harbor. After a beautiful sunset the PA announcements got more and more frantic. Scaring Alex and I on the bow half to death with the Fog Horn, the captain requested that passengers SomeName and SomeOtherName check in with guest services. While we watched the shore-side performers juggle fire and jump cats through hoops (Yes, housecats. No, I don't know why) the captain periodically repeated his call. There were still two crew members standing on the dock with the gangway when we began casting off and winding in the ropes. Finally, as the appointed hour struck the deckhands pulled in the gangway and cast off the final ropes. The captain used his thrusters to slide out from the pier, swing us perpendicular to shore, and set off into the sea.

And Adam fed a fortune cookie to a telekinetic chicken.

Dinner was largely more of the same. I went all out, ordering two main courses at once in order to build myself a brilliant surf-and-turf. And to the delight of my family, the waiters knew it was my birthday and sung for me, clanging lids together as miniature cymbals. The after dinner entertainment consists of a Battle-of-the-Sexes type gameshow, where us boys assisted the men in getting 41 people to touch a single carpet square, while 43 women pretended to do the same thing. Not that I could see, finding myself sprawled 3 layers deep in the Bagel of Blokes? Circulo de Caballeros? Disc of ..... Nevermind. Moving on.

We abandoned the gameshow as it became apparent the women were massively cheating time to get seats for the evening's comedian. Steven Scott was excellent, specializing in impersonations of everything from subway trains to our captain. "Good eve-ning ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking from the bar. I mean the Bridge." If you have the chance to check him out I recommend it, and let me know how the last two minutes go. I had to avail myself of the facilities thanks to a birthday cocktail (a Kamikaze with 8 cherries in it. It was fantastic.)

I spent the last few hours of the day wandering the upper deck, in the deep blackness that is midnight in the middle of nowhere.

Day 5: Back Eventually

Our last day was a late morning, a long breakfast, and we took our time getting off the boat, stopping briefly to reclaim my pocket knife in what was a surprisingly painless process. As requested, here is my report from the contraband table from most to least common. Clothing irons, knives, multitools, handcuffs. Our flight home was uneventful, and Maryland disappointingly cold.

Having come up with nothing better, I'm gonna leave my framing/layout note here to finish.

Something conclusivatory here. Cruises are awesome. The end.

Christmas Cruise - Scooter Adventure!

During our stop in Nassau, the men in our family decided to head out a bit further afield. Upon hearing our plan to rent scooters, our mother stayed home, instead snapping pictures from her balcony as we left "in case it was the last time I ever saw you."

Renting the scooters was a bit of an adventure in itself; upon approaching the scooter-rental-station we were surrounded by natives, each trying to persuade us the merits of their operation and demonstrating the marvels of collusion. This was fairly frenetic and showing no signs of abating until one of the guides, having previously talked with us, called dibs.  We negotiated (not really) for a pair of 125cc Chinese scooters and 4 helmets, had a quick practice run in the parkinglot, and were set out onto the main roads surprisingly - somewhat worryingly - quickly.

In an attempt to balance both weight and experience, Dad jumped on the back of my scooter while Ethan rode behind Adam. I'd only ever ridden two-up before rarely, and with girls - who are not only lighter than me but also firmly affixed to my torso. Dad was neither of those things. Learning the new balance and dynamics of the machines we set off down the busy market road, careful to keep on the "wrong side," and almost immediately I watched my brothers shoot off down the oncoming one-way street. Luckily, I'm far too smart for that. More luckily, a colorful van cut me off and yelled at me.

So we set off into the heart of the city on our now even-less planned course hoping to reconvene with the younger team... eventually? Adventure! Fortunately the vocal locals turned them around a few blocks into their mistake, and they guessed our course and caught up with surprising ease.

Now reunited and comfortable on the bikes, we set off through / between / around traffic, and meandered out to the coast road, where we set off towards our goal - "Cave Point."  After the first of several traffic circles, Adam passed us and pulled into a development to look over his bike: trying to navigate the high(er) speed turns had his bike scraping the ground. We detangled the kickstart from the centerstand and folded the whole package further in, and set off back down the road. The next few roundabouts went beautifully, Though I could do with a bit less sand hiding on the apexes. On the approach to yet another roundabout we heard a BANG from Adams lead scooter, followed by some smoke and a bit of revving. I immediately set about trying to figure out how he made his scooter do a burnout, and how I could make mine do the same. Before I could discover the secret he took the first exit of the roundabout and glided to a stop on the grass shoulder. He'd lost all power, and his secret was a snapped transmission belt. Adventure!

We luckily found ourselves near a small beach, so we bought a few Gatorades, borrowed a phone to call our scooter guys, and took a swim while we waited for them to sort out our problems. The rental agents raced out to us (literally raced, I think...) and dropped off a replacement scooter.  Looking back to the traffic circle I spotted them tag-teaming the broken scooter away, the rider on the good scooter pushing the rider on the borked scooter back towards town with his sandal.

Which we unfortunately don't have a picture of. So here's a beach and some palm trees!

Now that we had two working scooters again we set off again towards Cave Point, where more adventures surely awaited. However, the new scooter had a working gas gauge (somewhat of a novelty) and not only was it reading E, it was also dropping.  With a bit of help we found a gas station, and only had to off-road a little bit to get there. While fueling, we compared bikes. Both had bodies held on almost-exclusively via zip-ties, and niether had working brake lights. Adam had clearly gotten the cream of the crop with his replacement scooter, as he now had both a working speedometer AND a working horn. I was jealous of the former, and I was super-jealous of the latter.

One and a half gallons later, we were finally ready to go, and made it to Cave Point! for adventures! only driving past it once by accident. Contrary to expectations, Cave Point is less a point filled with caves, and more a single large cave near a point. Complete with a tiki bar / snack shack out in front.

The cave was a large hollow into the hill, which then had three large entrances to a huge room within the hill, and not much else. A boulder, a puddle, and a few bats, I guess. But the triple opening let tons of light in, and my five-inch tripod and I took full advantage. It was a neat cave, and I fully recommend anyone headed to Nassau take the side trip.

Proudly featured in this shot: The entire cave.

After the cave, we found an abandoned parkinglot to experiment in, and after taking a turn on the scooters both Dad and Ethan elected to remain in the pillion position - but I gave Ethan my camera for the journey back.  We started back on the shore road before cutting in to the highway for some full throttle action, attempting to avoid the coastal traffic in Nassau itself. We wound our way through a rather nice ghetto (Adventure‽) before heading back to the coast. Ethan snapped pictures in every direction all the way, aiming by reflex and snagging a few beautiful shots.

Aforementioned nice ghetto, and reflex aiming.

Finally, we snaked our way back up the one-way shore road - going with the flow of traffic this time - and made it back to the boat and the rental agency. We had to wait a few minutes to get our security deposit - which after busted and empty scooters wasn't a tip, no really, we're sure - back, and set off to the boat to clean ourselves up for the formal Christmas Eve dinner, adventure firmly achieved.

Christmas Cruise - Part 1

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Mother Farrell that all the family should take a cruise. And it every one went to his own city to prepare. And then we flew to Miami. 

Day 1: Boarding

Miami appears to be terrible. All of the billboards advertise Liquor, Hospitals, or Lawyers, which seems to tell a pretty complete story. Add to the mix a plurality of the drivers actively texting and our taxi driver who paid so little attention he had to lock the brakes on the 15-passenger van (with trailer!) to avoid stopped traffic on the highway, and I rate the entire city a pass. The only good part was some parkour at the hotel - but technically that was in Ft. Lauderdale - and that only lasted until our mother spotted us. (I'd have a video here, but Ethan managed not to fall into the cactus, so what's the point?)

The Port was huge, the cruise terminal for embarkation was massive, and the ship itself more comparable to a large building than any sort of vehicle - they're sort of sticking with a theme.  Not much interesting really happened until we got on the boat. The most excitement was Ethan getting searched by security... And I'm not saying that I had a pocket knife in my bag that was xray'ed right before his, but I will say I didn't stick around to see what happened.  After DEFINITELY NOT lying to the border agent ("Have you coughed in the last 36 hours?") we got to the boat it, squirted past the bevy of waiters offering drink / spa / excursion packages, and made our way to the pool deck where we rendezvoused with my uncle and his family. The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up, eating, attending mandatory safety training, and watching the boat set off down the channel. And, if you were my little brother, sprinting stern-ward down the deck in order to remain stationary relative an arbitrary point on shore.

About our boat: We were aboard Royal Caribbean's Majesty of the Seas.  If you will allow me to nerd out: It is 900 feet long, 100 feet wide, 13 decks  tall, and only 25 feet deep. It hosts 2800 passengers and 800 crew, and it is a diesel-electric capable of 22 knots courtesy of 22megawatts of power from 4 turbocharged 9-cylinder engines, each of which has a piston 16 inches across. If anyone ever has a line on one give me a ring, I would love one for an end-table.  

Dinner was Prime Rib (and probably other choices I didn't read), complete with all the appetizers and deserts you could eat, and a bottle of overpriced Malbec. We went to the welcome-to-the-boat presentation, which was an enjoyable preview of all the shows available on board, a general orientation, and an astonishing example of linguistic ability by our polyglot of a host. Rounding out the night were a few hands of Liars Poker, a tutorial on Craps at the onboard casino, and some time spent in the piano-bar (one of several drinking establishments on board).

Day 2: Christmas Eve in Nassau

The next morning we woke in the Bahamas, moored overlooking Nassau on the island of New Providence.  After a leisurely breakfast we disembarked, cross through a Customs station that was essentially a gauntlet of tourist traps, and set off into the city. Well, actually, we set off into another tourist trap called the straw market. After browsing the stalls Ethan tried his hand at haggling while I perused the counterfeit sunglasses on offer. Once Ethan had struck a deal and I'd decided against some kicking new shades, we set off to see the historical side of Nassau.  Following my mom's instructions we first found the Balcony House, the oldest wooden structure on the Island and built by shipwrights (and out of crashed ships when possible). It was a beautiful house, and the tour guides obligingly offered us the quarter-hour tour, where Ian Fleming (and Sean Connery?) had both stayed.

After Balcony House we moved on to Christ Church Cathedral. Also built by shipwrights (the ceiling looked like an inverted hull), the church was (re)built in 1754 in stone, and the practicing organist filled the nave with sound as we admired the architecture and stained glass. Outside the church, I finagled my camera past a fence to grab a shot of the gardens.

"Hold on guys, let me get this sunspot in the center. Just another hour or two."

At this point we started towards the Queen's Staircase and found ourselves a bit turned around... Luckily, while leaving a (slight) ghetto we stumbled into we stumbled into a tour guide! In as much as most of the locals know all the history and will gladly show you around for tips. Accepting his advice but declining his services we found ourselves at the Queen's Staircase.  The trench was cut as a quarry over the course of 18 years by slaves. My father pointed out, when you have that many slaves, you've got to keep them busy.  In 1793 after Queen Victoria abolished slavery in the Bahamas the slaves built the staircase and dedicated it in her honor, with 65 steps - one for each year of her reign. It's a great spot to visit, with shade, cool breezes, interesting rocks and vegetation, and a fountain series of pools next to the stairs.

At the top of the stairs lies Fort Fincastle. An entirely standard fort, we duly paid our 1 dollar entrance fee and got a short tour from a park ranger. After taking in the view from the roof and checking out the magazine the womenfolk headed out. The menfolk spent another 15 minutes aiming the enormous (a couple of tons, plus carriage) cannons on their rail system, sighting in on various cruise ships and guessing at ranges. Discussing afterwards, half the audience thought the fort was a little lackluster, while the other half declared it the best dollar they'd ever spent. I'll leave determining which half was which as an exercise for the reader.

My mom snapped this. I'm actually kind of proud.

We returned to the ship (via the sweet stairs, obvs) for lunch and to discuss afternoon plans.  Which can be found in another post.

Christmas Eve  on the cruise ship was the formal dinner. Suited and booted we gathered in the centrum (basically an atrium, only at the center) on a balcony a floor above the official photographer to get our Christmas pictures, not only cheaper but with a better shot as well. Dinner was great - as always.  The after-dinner entertainment was scheduled to be a comedian, but as he couldn't make it to the boat on time they replaced him with a few of the ships singers doing their favorites. They were quite good, but also quite different from what we had expected, and no-one was particularly upset when the show ended and we went back to the centrum to sing Christmas carols, and then back to the lounges to spend the rest of the evening chatting.

As the clock struck midnight we cast off from the pier and set off back into the Caribbean sea. We stayed on deck to watch the tugboats leave us and the lighthouse glide by in front of the moon, and then made our way below decks to our room, stopping briefly to admire the midnight buffet I was still too full to take advantage of.