'Berries in the Bahamas: How We spent our Honeymoon--Part IV

Thursday, February 24, 2005: The Supposed Fun Day at Sea

The Sovereign of the Seas has two ports of call in two days. So it had to travel double-time on the return trip in order to cover the same distance in one day as it did in two on the way to Nassau. So the last full day aboard was a "fun at sea" day, in which the ship was always moving and the only entertainment was onboard. Ergo, we were...

Cheek-To-Jowel On The Intermidable Day At Sea

They have many venues of entertainment on the ship, but the fact of the matter is that you still have about 3000 people all trapped aboard a vessel that is only 880 feet long. That translates to a sphincter-load of crowds in every available public area. Jennifer and I had trouble finding places to go or sit that weren't loaded down with humanity. No tables available, long lines, no chairs, it seemed never-ending, but we didn't want to just hole up in our cabin.

Other passengers cram every egress, passageway and orifice on the ship.

All in all, you're just another brick in the...

There was one last shipboard amusement that we had set as a goal, and that we now had the chance to bring to fruition; the 30-foot climbing wall, Deck 13. It was a pain in the ass to sign up for it, because of the aforementioned crowds. We had to sign a waiver absolving the ship of liability if we fell and smashed ourselves into gravy on the deck. Then they made us put on the weird elf shoes that crunched my toes into my Achilles tendons and a white dome helmet that made us look like Caribbean-dressed antiperspirant bottles.

Somehow, Jennifer and I didn't hear the call among the staff that divvied us up into classifications based on experience and ability. So, we ended up at one of the most difficult sections of the Wall. Ultimately, almost everyone still climbed successfully to the top to ring the bell.

Jennifer was the second to last, but she made it all the way up there, 30 feet above the deck of the Sovereign, to triumphantly clang that bell.

Butt in a sling, Jennifer climbs successfully to the bell at the top of the rock wall.

I was the dead last one and I failed miserably. First, I fell off the Wall and had to be hoisted by the anchoring staffperson. When I slipped further up, and grappled for a handhold, I overreached and felt something pull unhealthily in my right, rear lower ribcage. I climbed a couple more rungs but found myself in a cul-de-sac, where there was no where to grab with my hands or balance with my feet. Hurting, desperate and not a little disappointed, I conceded defeat and had them lower me back to the ground again. It hurt being the only one to fail to reach the top, and I stayed depressed about it for a few hours afterward.

Please Let Us In, We're Ever So Hungry!

By this point in the cruise, Jennifer and I had pretty much had enough of the rich food, the expensive drinks and the inexorable crowds. We were already planning and eagerly anticipating the delicious and mundane food we would have when we got home Friday night. The last day at open sea only seemed to accentuate that point. For some reason, it seemed like everywhere we wanted to go was suddenly closed. The Windjammer Buffet was locked up tight during dinnertime. After we waited a ridiculous interval for food that was admittedly quite delicious, we tried to go back to Boleros for another tequini, but they were closed for a "private party." In frustration, we went upstairs to the casino bar, Deck 10, where we ordered two Fosters oilcans, without glasses. It didn't take long for another couple to ask to sit down right across from us and smoke. We promptly took our leave, reassuring them that they hadn't ran us off (even though they did).

$11 For a Shot!?

After the show, we were able to get into Boleros again, where we had a couple of tasty drinks. What made this chapter memorable was that I decided to order a high quality shot of “sipping” tequila. It cost me $11!! While I believe it was worth the experience, I don’t think I’ll be having any more shots that are the same price as a whole fifth of tequila at home.

So with that last bit of bloodless ex-sanguination, it was time to return to our itty-bitty cram of a cabin space to finish off the night. We had a few drinks and went to bed.

The sun sets on the Thornberries' trip to the Bahamas.

Friday February 25: Disembarking.

The last day of our honeymoon was basically just getting home.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Disembarking from the ship was a chore, as one doesn’t simply move 2500+ people through the customs station in Orlando all at once. There was the issue of what people were bringing back across the border, since we had, after all, been out of the country. Fortunately, Jennifer and I had only our small purchases from Nassau and that didn’t include any booze or exposed food. Of course, we were almost dead last on their disembarkation schedule, so after getting up at the ass-crack of dawn, we just sat around the Centrum, waiting to be called. Once through customs, things went relatively smoothly. We caught our bus, went back to the airport, laid over in Atlanta again and then hit our home city around 6:30 or thereabouts.

Stuffing Our Butts with Hot wings; Good to Be Home

We thought we’d finally escaped the trap of the cruise ship; it seemed like no matter what we did, someone was there to ask for a tip. Cruise ships are known for it, we went aboard expecting it, but it still hurt. I told Jennifer I felt like we could have asked for directions and someone would have put out a tip jar for helping us. After awhile, it became our running gag. We almost couldn’t wait to get to the airport, where we could order something without having to scribble in an extra $2 on the number line below the bill. To beat all, we really overpaid in tips, since we ended up using a pre-pay plan that we later discovered included tips for services we never really used. Just our luck when we got home, our first meal of hot wings required a tip. Sometimes, you can’t win.

Anyhoo, once we were home and safe, and after we checked on our kitties (who were fat, lazy and well-kept while we were gone), we ordered one of our favorite Friday night meals; hot wings from Wingzone. That little meal was heavenly after all our time away, because we purchased it from someone without an accent, at a reasonable price and we got to have our own beer with it. Then we just buckled down and watched some of our prerecorded television. Experience had become memory.

And now, it is part of your memory too, Our Darlings! Thanks for reading!

Click for the Next Story