Today was another day in St. John’s, in New Brunswick. There was a big mess with shuttles from the ship into the town. Probably because there were 3 cruise ships in port on the same day, for the same morning—the Norwegian Dawn, us, and the Caribbean Princess. The Princess looks like one size up the Russian doll chain/like it birthed our ship.
We had to wait outside in very brisk weather for about 20 minutes, some of us having very dramatic feelings about how difficult our lives were. I was encouraged to see that even at 11 a.m. in Canadian weather, two passengers got off the ship with ice cream cones which they finished in the parking lot.
We made it back on the ship and were standing in a group, talking. A gentleman in his sixties came up to us and said “I got a title for ya!” Usually, this is bad news, so we all went “oh heh greaaaat” and plastered on smiles, because people will say “RABBIT—isn’t that hilarious??” or something ridiculous. Then he said “’Did You Die or Was It Your Sister’—my wife overheard two ladies in the hallway—one lady came up to the other and said ‘did you die or was it your sister.’ Swear to God.” This is obviously great.
If you have a lot of time, say, to, say, THINK, I would not NEGATIVE recommend reading anything based on the post apocalypse. Especially if you are say trapped on say a ship with a bunch of people and a limited food and fuel and water supply, just saying, ha ha ha.
Monday, September 29, 2008
A Cappella and Led Zeppelin
I got to talk to the a cappella guys more, most of them are right out of college. One guy just graduated in May so he’ll smile really widely and then aggressively compose his face, which is delightful. I asked him how they all got together, he told me a story I clearly found way too funny.
After he graduated, he went to work at the new Hard Rock Café Theme Park (????) in Myrtle Beach, Florida, singing a cappella. I said “wait, what? Theme park? What?” and he said, yeah, there are like Led Zeppelin roller coasters and all this stuff. This is completely insane and true and there are videos on YouTube. Apparently the theme park did not take off very well and that during the soft opening, no one came “like not even the locals or anything. There was just no one.” He said for the first half of the summer they did a cappella versions of Jimmi Hendrix and Journey, but that didn’t work too well, so they switched to a different section of the park and did do wop.
We are one the outskirts of Hurricaine Kyle, so you roll all over your bed and feel like your intestines are inflamed, if you are me. We have to tender at Martha’s Vineyard, and we’ve only made it once out of 3 trips due to weather.
Last night I met the first American bar waiter. He is a guy with funky blonde hair from Atlanta. He was completely amazed at the hours he is expected to work (70), to the point that he faked sick for 2 days and hung out in the sick bay watching some basketball (football? Georgia v. someone?) game. He said about 4 times that “my recruiter lied to me” and that he is going to quit this weekend and this week plans to just “break all the rules all week.” He has had a negative experience with the Filipino mafia (no blanket, buttons, or the right size shoes), which I didn’t realize exits, but if you know the right people, your life is instantly easier—some of the YCs couldn’t get their toilet fixed through all the usual channels, until their in worked it out for them. This guy may have had a negative experience because he was very confused that I was drinking club soda and wanted to know “so how dirty is the ship. I mean really. Because I’ve heard stories.” So we told him some more, but no one really wanted to participate in creepy bed swapping with him.
After he graduated, he went to work at the new Hard Rock Café Theme Park (????) in Myrtle Beach, Florida, singing a cappella. I said “wait, what? Theme park? What?” and he said, yeah, there are like Led Zeppelin roller coasters and all this stuff. This is completely insane and true and there are videos on YouTube. Apparently the theme park did not take off very well and that during the soft opening, no one came “like not even the locals or anything. There was just no one.” He said for the first half of the summer they did a cappella versions of Jimmi Hendrix and Journey, but that didn’t work too well, so they switched to a different section of the park and did do wop.
We are one the outskirts of Hurricaine Kyle, so you roll all over your bed and feel like your intestines are inflamed, if you are me. We have to tender at Martha’s Vineyard, and we’ve only made it once out of 3 trips due to weather.
Last night I met the first American bar waiter. He is a guy with funky blonde hair from Atlanta. He was completely amazed at the hours he is expected to work (70), to the point that he faked sick for 2 days and hung out in the sick bay watching some basketball (football? Georgia v. someone?) game. He said about 4 times that “my recruiter lied to me” and that he is going to quit this weekend and this week plans to just “break all the rules all week.” He has had a negative experience with the Filipino mafia (no blanket, buttons, or the right size shoes), which I didn’t realize exits, but if you know the right people, your life is instantly easier—some of the YCs couldn’t get their toilet fixed through all the usual channels, until their in worked it out for them. This guy may have had a negative experience because he was very confused that I was drinking club soda and wanted to know “so how dirty is the ship. I mean really. Because I’ve heard stories.” So we told him some more, but no one really wanted to participate in creepy bed swapping with him.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
English Girl's Sports
If you want to upset the balance of English people’s relationship to one another, get one to say he likes baseball. An English dancer bought a Red Sox hat in Boston. I told him he will instantly make insane fan friends in many places and he said “yes, Yankees people, right?” which made me laugh. I tried to explain the Red Sox and the fanatics and how there was a “be careful making any big life changing plans” announcement to people after they won the World Series. He said he would like to see a baseball game sometimes in port and then had shifty eyes and said “he’s going to get mad.” “He” was the safety officer, who is bald and probably in his forties, who looked at the dancer with laser eyes and said “what?!” The dancer said “I like baseball.” The safety officer turned on me and said with his laser anger “we have baseball in England. It’s called rounders and it’s played by GIRLS.” Basketball is “net ball and it’s played by GIRLS.” He said “we have American football and it’s called [I can’t remember] and it’s played by GIRLS.” I said “we have soccer” and he got very disgusted with me until I said “football.” He also got very excited by the idea that we can never have an independence day celebration for the English people on board because they’ve never been dependent. We said maybe they can celebrate all of the kingdoms they lost, but he didn’t seem to hear that.
He got mad about the World Series in baseball and said it is only called the World Series because the first game was sponsored by a paper called “The World” (which is a fact he clearly loves). I pointed out that the world series of cricket is also silly because the whole world does not participate. He basically said “yes it does” and gave me a list of countries (even though He told me that cricket is a much better game, although it can last five days and sometimes scores are around 600 to 600—“not points, RUNS. 600 RUNS.” I said that’s annoying that you have a game where the score can be 0-1 and another game where it is 600-580. The two English people pretended to use a cricket bat and to pitch.
He got mad about the World Series in baseball and said it is only called the World Series because the first game was sponsored by a paper called “The World” (which is a fact he clearly loves). I pointed out that the world series of cricket is also silly because the whole world does not participate. He basically said “yes it does” and gave me a list of countries (even though He told me that cricket is a much better game, although it can last five days and sometimes scores are around 600 to 600—“not points, RUNS. 600 RUNS.” I said that’s annoying that you have a game where the score can be 0-1 and another game where it is 600-580. The two English people pretended to use a cricket bat and to pitch.
another npr note
First of all, for the next few days, you can listen to the NPR piece Eve and I did until Thursday. I think you can download the whole show, which I recommend. Listening to it is much better than reading it because there are things liiiike music and other delights. This must always be the case, which must be incredibly obvious to people in radio:
Weekendamerica.org
They did some great interviews with people at the top of the show and talked about David Foster Wallace’s cruise ship piece—there’s a link to a pdf of it at the bottom.
Although here is a insightful delightful excerpt. True for cruise ships, true for LA, where “you are amazing” means “I have to go” or “please go away” or “can we talk about me for a second” (jaded):
An ad that pretends to be art is-at absolute best-like somebody who smiles at you only because he wants something from you. This is dishonest, but what's insidious is the cumulative effect that such dishonesty has on us: since it offers a perfect simulacrum of goodwill without goodwill's real substance, it messes with our heads and eventually starts upping our defenses even in cases of genuine smiles and real art and true goodwill. It makes us feel confused and lonely and impotent and angry and scared. it causes despair.
Weekendamerica.org
They did some great interviews with people at the top of the show and talked about David Foster Wallace’s cruise ship piece—there’s a link to a pdf of it at the bottom.
Although here is a insightful delightful excerpt. True for cruise ships, true for LA, where “you are amazing” means “I have to go” or “please go away” or “can we talk about me for a second” (jaded):
An ad that pretends to be art is-at absolute best-like somebody who smiles at you only because he wants something from you. This is dishonest, but what's insidious is the cumulative effect that such dishonesty has on us: since it offers a perfect simulacrum of goodwill without goodwill's real substance, it messes with our heads and eventually starts upping our defenses even in cases of genuine smiles and real art and true goodwill. It makes us feel confused and lonely and impotent and angry and scared. it causes despair.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Marsha & Dave
We got cancelled going to Martha’s Vineyard. Something about the weather, something about the tendering.
I am sitting next to a hilarious couple, as per usual. The guy sat next to me and said over his glasses, “how much are you paying for internet.” I said “75 cents a minute” which is a lie, but is what they pay. The guy said “that’s crazy” and then opened a book to read. He read the dust flap on the front, then the dust flap on the back. He fell asleep in the middle of reading the back flap. His wife sat down and joined him, she is pretty large and has a gray crew cut and wore all black velour. She clearly gets her nails done very regularly and finds them gorgeous. She started talking to another couple about how terrible everything is, including “as smart as I am with all of my college degrees I didn’t know that arteries…” which was a nice gem. Or “as a Native New Yorker, I’ve seen all that shit before…” regarding the Empire State building and a show which the other couple wanted to do. The other couple said “I’d really like to see a tree.” “Grows in Brooklyn?! Hahaha, no—“ said Marsha.
Marsha then informed them about how terrible the entertainment on the ship is, qualifying it with a “well, I live in Vegas now.” The other couple said “oh, you’ve got Wayne Newton, he’s the best.” Marsha said “no he’s not, he’s not, ugh, he’s awful.”
I also loved, regarding their cellphones, which they both opened to see if they had any signal: Marsha “yours says ‘Hi Dave’ why does it say that, why does it say ‘Hi Dave’—why doesn’t mine say ‘Hi Marsha’” He gave it a long moment and then “because my name’s Dave” which made Marsha very annoyed. She then said “look we could get on the internet” and then Dave said “yeah, 75 cents a minute.” Marsha said, brightly, “that’s not bad! If you’re fast!” They both clearly smoke a lot, I would imagine Dave drinks a little to calm down from Marsha, who told the other couple “I’m going to write a letter to the cruise ship company. Did you get insurance? See, we got cruise ship insurance. Only $50 a person, and that’s not bad—our room is on the same floor as the medical office. Not that I need it HAHAHA! But yeah, it is.”
I am sitting next to a hilarious couple, as per usual. The guy sat next to me and said over his glasses, “how much are you paying for internet.” I said “75 cents a minute” which is a lie, but is what they pay. The guy said “that’s crazy” and then opened a book to read. He read the dust flap on the front, then the dust flap on the back. He fell asleep in the middle of reading the back flap. His wife sat down and joined him, she is pretty large and has a gray crew cut and wore all black velour. She clearly gets her nails done very regularly and finds them gorgeous. She started talking to another couple about how terrible everything is, including “as smart as I am with all of my college degrees I didn’t know that arteries…” which was a nice gem. Or “as a Native New Yorker, I’ve seen all that shit before…” regarding the Empire State building and a show which the other couple wanted to do. The other couple said “I’d really like to see a tree.” “Grows in Brooklyn?! Hahaha, no—“ said Marsha.
Marsha then informed them about how terrible the entertainment on the ship is, qualifying it with a “well, I live in Vegas now.” The other couple said “oh, you’ve got Wayne Newton, he’s the best.” Marsha said “no he’s not, he’s not, ugh, he’s awful.”
I also loved, regarding their cellphones, which they both opened to see if they had any signal: Marsha “yours says ‘Hi Dave’ why does it say that, why does it say ‘Hi Dave’—why doesn’t mine say ‘Hi Marsha’” He gave it a long moment and then “because my name’s Dave” which made Marsha very annoyed. She then said “look we could get on the internet” and then Dave said “yeah, 75 cents a minute.” Marsha said, brightly, “that’s not bad! If you’re fast!” They both clearly smoke a lot, I would imagine Dave drinks a little to calm down from Marsha, who told the other couple “I’m going to write a letter to the cruise ship company. Did you get insurance? See, we got cruise ship insurance. Only $50 a person, and that’s not bad—our room is on the same floor as the medical office. Not that I need it HAHAHA! But yeah, it is.”
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Massage, Peru, Accapella
Today I got a massage from the spa. This is because my back is a mess, which is what I wrote on the “why are you getting this massage?” form. Which means a soft spoken gentleman from the Phillipines said “your back is a mess?” which was pretty funny. If you want to delight a person from the Phillipines and you look white and boring, tell them there is a Jolly Bee in Los Angeles. This is their McDonald’s equivalent.
A nice thing to know on cruise ships is that there is a speaker in every possible room. There is a speaker in the massage rooms. So when a masseuse is asking you personalized and gentle questions with gentle asian flutes in the background, you will hear a “THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN. MESSAGE FROM THE BRIDGE! THE GANGWAY WILL NOW BE LOCATED ON THE STARBOARD SIDE! THAT IS DECK 5! DECK 7 IS NO LONGER IN USE! THANK YOU! ENJOY YOUR DAY!”
I got a lesson in international politics from a girl from Peru who is also a youth counselor. I know a little bit about the state of that country from Marion, and it is a mess/developing nation. Suddenly there are very few eastern Europeans on the ship, and a lot more people from Peru. She was an au pair in Germany, meaning she speaks German, Spanish and English (oh, heh) and has lots of stories. Like how her first boss in Germany tried to defraud the government ooooor how she taught Spanish in her off hours. My favorite story is that she would clean the house where she was an au pair for extra money. She said “it is so easy! You have all these chemicals! You don’t to do any work! You just spray and…that’s it!” I want to tell her about a Roomba. I do not want to tell her the average amount of cleaning me and my friends will do. I’m sure there is somewhere where cleaning involves pressing a button but the people who live there hate pressing the button so they hire someone to do it and feel bad for people who have to press other people’s buttons. And the button people are like “uh…you want to give me money? For pressing a button? Okay freak!”
There is an a cappella group on board now. They look about 22, but apparently have been around for 8 years. I got the information from one of the singers in the production cast. Apparently, there is a very VERY small world of professional a cappella singers and they all know each other. One person in this group only beatboxes, which should be pretty hilarious to watch someone do for a bunch of people in their seventies who don’t entirely follow the scene we do about instant messaging.
Visual presents:
One 80-lb. old lady looks like Beaker with glasses. She is lively and my favorite. Another older gentleman chose shorts which fit his (very giant) waist very well. His legs are not in proportion, so he has two bells with a clanging inner stick that are his legs. He frowns a lot.
If I had a spy camera, I would take a photo of two women, sitting in the exact same position two tables away from one another. They have the same hair cut (short, curled) and the same earrings (1-inch hoops) and were eating in the same way. One woman looked like she was sitting in a tiny joke chair. She was not.
A nice thing to know on cruise ships is that there is a speaker in every possible room. There is a speaker in the massage rooms. So when a masseuse is asking you personalized and gentle questions with gentle asian flutes in the background, you will hear a “THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN. MESSAGE FROM THE BRIDGE! THE GANGWAY WILL NOW BE LOCATED ON THE STARBOARD SIDE! THAT IS DECK 5! DECK 7 IS NO LONGER IN USE! THANK YOU! ENJOY YOUR DAY!”
I got a lesson in international politics from a girl from Peru who is also a youth counselor. I know a little bit about the state of that country from Marion, and it is a mess/developing nation. Suddenly there are very few eastern Europeans on the ship, and a lot more people from Peru. She was an au pair in Germany, meaning she speaks German, Spanish and English (oh, heh) and has lots of stories. Like how her first boss in Germany tried to defraud the government ooooor how she taught Spanish in her off hours. My favorite story is that she would clean the house where she was an au pair for extra money. She said “it is so easy! You have all these chemicals! You don’t to do any work! You just spray and…that’s it!” I want to tell her about a Roomba. I do not want to tell her the average amount of cleaning me and my friends will do. I’m sure there is somewhere where cleaning involves pressing a button but the people who live there hate pressing the button so they hire someone to do it and feel bad for people who have to press other people’s buttons. And the button people are like “uh…you want to give me money? For pressing a button? Okay freak!”
There is an a cappella group on board now. They look about 22, but apparently have been around for 8 years. I got the information from one of the singers in the production cast. Apparently, there is a very VERY small world of professional a cappella singers and they all know each other. One person in this group only beatboxes, which should be pretty hilarious to watch someone do for a bunch of people in their seventies who don’t entirely follow the scene we do about instant messaging.
Visual presents:
One 80-lb. old lady looks like Beaker with glasses. She is lively and my favorite. Another older gentleman chose shorts which fit his (very giant) waist very well. His legs are not in proportion, so he has two bells with a clanging inner stick that are his legs. He frowns a lot.
If I had a spy camera, I would take a photo of two women, sitting in the exact same position two tables away from one another. They have the same hair cut (short, curled) and the same earrings (1-inch hoops) and were eating in the same way. One woman looked like she was sitting in a tiny joke chair. She was not.
Friday, September 12, 2008
I'm on NPR
I am an NPR commentator! Maybe. Or I just did a story.
Thanks to radio producer extraordinaire Eve Troeh, you can hear a story on weekendamerica.org, Saturday (tomorrow) September 13th. It’ll be on the website after it airs.
If you want to hear it on your radio, you can go here to get local listings.
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Edited to add: Welllllll....maybe not. I think I got pre-empted by Hurricaine Ike. Stupid Hurricaines ruin everybody's good times.
Thanks to radio producer extraordinaire Eve Troeh, you can hear a story on weekendamerica.org, Saturday (tomorrow) September 13th. It’ll be on the website after it airs.
If you want to hear it on your radio, you can go here to get local listings.
---
Edited to add: Welllllll....maybe not. I think I got pre-empted by Hurricaine Ike. Stupid Hurricaines ruin everybody's good times.
The Tour of the Holy Engine Room
Today we had the engine room tour.
Background!:
We took a catamaran tour in Bermuda with the ship’s captain. This was fun because whenever we did something, we were just very conscious of what the captain thought. Like “I’m spraying myself with sunscreen. IS THE CAPTAIN LOOKING?” etc. Since I have long been obsessed with the fuel tanks and no one is willing to show them to me, I told the Captain this fact. This captain is an American, smiles a lot, laughs at jokes, and goes to crew parties. He started captaining ships in the Navy Reserve and before starting his contract here a few months ago, he was running government owned ships in the Persian Gulf. As it is with cruise ships, the cruise line called him (“it’s an emergency”) and asked if he could start work in a week. In the US. Classic. Anyway, he strives to get jokes and strives to make them. Although at even the slightest hint of a joke, we are all like “HAHAHAHAHA!” because he is the captain. I mean. He said “write a note to the chief engineer, he’d love to show you the engine room. They’re very proud of it.” So I did. And in two days, someone terrifying called the room. My roommate Carla said this, about three times “May I ask who’s calling?” When I got on the phone, a terrifying murderer said “Hi Megan, this is Chief Engineer.” He did not strive to get jokes. He said “when you want to come.” I said, “uh, hahaha, we have our show tonight so not tonight, hahaha.” Revealing I am a fruity pointless actor who consumes and produces waste. Then I said “maybe tomorrow? Hahaha? After we port? Hahaha?” and he said “No. Not tomorrow. We move we have to close fire doors. 10 am tomorrow.” I said “yes” and “thank you” a ton to not sound like a waste. Then he yelled at me about where did I want to meet and “do you know where the control room is?” and said “just go and someone will tell you.”
10 a.m. is like 4:30 a.m. to my cast. When I told them “it’s at 10 a.m.!” People’s eyes instantly wandered. Out of 6 of us, 3 went. I brought up the idea of an engine tour to the youth counselors and one dancer, they used body language to indicate how deeply boring the idea sounded. Anyway, at 10 a.m. after asking 3 people, we found our way to the bowels of the ship, where the engine control room is. We saw two guys in all white coveralls standing in front of screens. I said “I’m here to see the Chief Engineer?” and the two guys nervously pointed to a little room. I said “We’re here for the tour!” into a room where everyone goes to smoke. A gruff annoyed man said “I am chief engineer”—I was too nervous to look at his nametag, even though he looked at mine and touched me a lot. I only saw he was from Greece. He clearly smokes a great deal. The control room is low ceilinged and window-free.
The best part of the tour is that the terrifying chief engineer said “you show them this room” and the tall Greek guy in white coveralls looked nervous and sick and the short Filipino guy looked vaguely annoyed. The short guy told the tall guy to talk about things. The tall guy said “I…uh…want him to do it. He is uh…longer than me.” Which I gathered meant “he’s been here longer.”
We stood in the room with about 8 different screens that flipped between various security cameras trained on machines. The guys kinda said “well, those are screens.” Then one said, “I mean, do you want to know about this in DETAIL?” as if there is no way swe would say yes. We kinda looked at each other and said “well, I mean…yeah.” So he pointed to one screen and described the “hi fog” fire safety devices and how those worked and were monitored. I think he didn’t like the word fog and wanted to say “mist” but couldn’t think of the word. So he kept saying “they release a very high…fog, but much water, not liquid. You know…how a fog is?” Then the terrifying Chief Engineer came back and they were like “well…do you want to go downstairs?” as if they didn’t want to go downstairs. And well, whatever, I don’t care. I have been dying to see the engines since day 1. Especially the fuel, which I will only see in my dreams, that’s just how that is going to be. So I said “YES.” We went down to start the tour. Step one: Insert earplugs. Our tour guide would still explain things, and we would laugh when he did and make our eyes go huge when his did, but afterward, admitted that we couldn’t hear anything. So basically, we had a visual tour.
And a visual tour. Was. Insane. The overarching message is “everyone’s life is hanging by a thin thread.” We are propelled by 2 generators that power 4 engines. Imagine a semi-trailer truck—but just the trailer part. Now, slice off about 25% of it. The remaining 75% is the size of the engines. THE MASSIVE ENGINES. Now, last December, one of these, ahem, exploded. Apparently you could hear the blast about 6 decks up. Before this tour, people talked about Code Bravo (which means: there is a fire), and I thought “oh cute.” Because nothing feels real when you are 2 minutes from a cookie at all times. And “fire” seems like a theme idea. Well, the blast through this engine was about 2.5 feet wide and 1 foot high. The top of the piston was melted. The captain described this engine as “an incredibly expensive anchor.” To get rid of it, they are going to have to cut a huge hole in the ship. I cannot imagine the fear and dread of the engineers when that happened. Especially considering one floor below is: FUEL.
The greek gentleman explained the fuel a little bit upstairs. They were both annoyed with their lack of words to describe it and kept saying “it is very low grade!” or “you know—very low grade fuel! Thick! Low grade!” The greek gentleman finally found a way to express it: “it’s like yohgurt!” which I found culturally appropriate. They also said “and, you know, we have to process the fuel. You can’t use it when we get it—it’s low grade fuel and too thick.” So they have, on the engine floor, a thing that processes the fuel. Heats it and purifies it and separates out the parts it can use. I thought he said it is like asphalt. Maybe he meant tar. My castmate said they use asphalt to purify the fuel. You now understand how clear the tour was.
They have their own hardware store.
As for the fuel, it is apparently kept right next to the tanks with our drinking water. No one would explain this clearly and apparently my questions are terribly phrased. But we did understand that they are more likely to dump oil into our own drinking water than the sea water. So maybe this means the fuel floats on top of our drinking water? Who knows.
Also on the engine floor is: the desalination tanks. We took out our earplugs for him to stand on a stool (ship built by Germans+operated by dimunitive Filipinos=stools) (no offense Jason) and do something done in every job everywhere. That is tell us why he suffers: “10 years ago they really thought this system was top of the line” because it is a touch screen “well, now it is obsolete. They are definitely changing this in dry dock.” Although we would never ever have known the difference. Apparently they take in salt water (my question: “where does it come in?” his answer: “from the ocean” so this will remain a mystery also), heat it, collect the condensation, add a teeeeeeeeeeeeny bit of bleach, then we drink it. Heh. This is why we buy Evian in the crew bar. Apparently every morning you are supposed to run your faucet for 5 minutes before you use any water, because that gets the bleach out of the pipes. Our clothes are getting a teeny bit lighter with every washing. Oh well.
They really like cruising around in Canada because they can dump a lot of waste water. They have a sewage treatment plant on that floor also. It is so effective that the water gets “so clear. Like Evian water.” But apparently you still can’t drink it. The nice thing about Canada is that you can dump all of that in the ocean. We were looking at a butterscotch looking tank for a while at the end of the tour. Butterscotch with a nice foam layer you’d get on a latte. We were having some language problems (overarching problem) and I said “oh, is that a window?” and after about 5 minutes, when he sprayed an internal jet that cleared the window, I realized we were looking at raw sewage and the floating bits under the foam was toilet paper. I did not vomit. Unfortunately we kept standing there. But I did not gag or vomit. Thank you.
After the tour, we went up to get breakfast and saw a woman with serious plastic surgery and her prissy daughter. Her daughter got a waffle and said primly “I’d like mine extra crispy.” Oh lady, we haven’t blown up! You and your waffle! So cute. I have seen where it ends up.
Background!:
We took a catamaran tour in Bermuda with the ship’s captain. This was fun because whenever we did something, we were just very conscious of what the captain thought. Like “I’m spraying myself with sunscreen. IS THE CAPTAIN LOOKING?” etc. Since I have long been obsessed with the fuel tanks and no one is willing to show them to me, I told the Captain this fact. This captain is an American, smiles a lot, laughs at jokes, and goes to crew parties. He started captaining ships in the Navy Reserve and before starting his contract here a few months ago, he was running government owned ships in the Persian Gulf. As it is with cruise ships, the cruise line called him (“it’s an emergency”) and asked if he could start work in a week. In the US. Classic. Anyway, he strives to get jokes and strives to make them. Although at even the slightest hint of a joke, we are all like “HAHAHAHAHA!” because he is the captain. I mean. He said “write a note to the chief engineer, he’d love to show you the engine room. They’re very proud of it.” So I did. And in two days, someone terrifying called the room. My roommate Carla said this, about three times “May I ask who’s calling?” When I got on the phone, a terrifying murderer said “Hi Megan, this is Chief Engineer.” He did not strive to get jokes. He said “when you want to come.” I said, “uh, hahaha, we have our show tonight so not tonight, hahaha.” Revealing I am a fruity pointless actor who consumes and produces waste. Then I said “maybe tomorrow? Hahaha? After we port? Hahaha?” and he said “No. Not tomorrow. We move we have to close fire doors. 10 am tomorrow.” I said “yes” and “thank you” a ton to not sound like a waste. Then he yelled at me about where did I want to meet and “do you know where the control room is?” and said “just go and someone will tell you.”
10 a.m. is like 4:30 a.m. to my cast. When I told them “it’s at 10 a.m.!” People’s eyes instantly wandered. Out of 6 of us, 3 went. I brought up the idea of an engine tour to the youth counselors and one dancer, they used body language to indicate how deeply boring the idea sounded. Anyway, at 10 a.m. after asking 3 people, we found our way to the bowels of the ship, where the engine control room is. We saw two guys in all white coveralls standing in front of screens. I said “I’m here to see the Chief Engineer?” and the two guys nervously pointed to a little room. I said “We’re here for the tour!” into a room where everyone goes to smoke. A gruff annoyed man said “I am chief engineer”—I was too nervous to look at his nametag, even though he looked at mine and touched me a lot. I only saw he was from Greece. He clearly smokes a great deal. The control room is low ceilinged and window-free.
The best part of the tour is that the terrifying chief engineer said “you show them this room” and the tall Greek guy in white coveralls looked nervous and sick and the short Filipino guy looked vaguely annoyed. The short guy told the tall guy to talk about things. The tall guy said “I…uh…want him to do it. He is uh…longer than me.” Which I gathered meant “he’s been here longer.”
We stood in the room with about 8 different screens that flipped between various security cameras trained on machines. The guys kinda said “well, those are screens.” Then one said, “I mean, do you want to know about this in DETAIL?” as if there is no way swe would say yes. We kinda looked at each other and said “well, I mean…yeah.” So he pointed to one screen and described the “hi fog” fire safety devices and how those worked and were monitored. I think he didn’t like the word fog and wanted to say “mist” but couldn’t think of the word. So he kept saying “they release a very high…fog, but much water, not liquid. You know…how a fog is?” Then the terrifying Chief Engineer came back and they were like “well…do you want to go downstairs?” as if they didn’t want to go downstairs. And well, whatever, I don’t care. I have been dying to see the engines since day 1. Especially the fuel, which I will only see in my dreams, that’s just how that is going to be. So I said “YES.” We went down to start the tour. Step one: Insert earplugs. Our tour guide would still explain things, and we would laugh when he did and make our eyes go huge when his did, but afterward, admitted that we couldn’t hear anything. So basically, we had a visual tour.
And a visual tour. Was. Insane. The overarching message is “everyone’s life is hanging by a thin thread.” We are propelled by 2 generators that power 4 engines. Imagine a semi-trailer truck—but just the trailer part. Now, slice off about 25% of it. The remaining 75% is the size of the engines. THE MASSIVE ENGINES. Now, last December, one of these, ahem, exploded. Apparently you could hear the blast about 6 decks up. Before this tour, people talked about Code Bravo (which means: there is a fire), and I thought “oh cute.” Because nothing feels real when you are 2 minutes from a cookie at all times. And “fire” seems like a theme idea. Well, the blast through this engine was about 2.5 feet wide and 1 foot high. The top of the piston was melted. The captain described this engine as “an incredibly expensive anchor.” To get rid of it, they are going to have to cut a huge hole in the ship. I cannot imagine the fear and dread of the engineers when that happened. Especially considering one floor below is: FUEL.
The greek gentleman explained the fuel a little bit upstairs. They were both annoyed with their lack of words to describe it and kept saying “it is very low grade!” or “you know—very low grade fuel! Thick! Low grade!” The greek gentleman finally found a way to express it: “it’s like yohgurt!” which I found culturally appropriate. They also said “and, you know, we have to process the fuel. You can’t use it when we get it—it’s low grade fuel and too thick.” So they have, on the engine floor, a thing that processes the fuel. Heats it and purifies it and separates out the parts it can use. I thought he said it is like asphalt. Maybe he meant tar. My castmate said they use asphalt to purify the fuel. You now understand how clear the tour was.
They have their own hardware store.
As for the fuel, it is apparently kept right next to the tanks with our drinking water. No one would explain this clearly and apparently my questions are terribly phrased. But we did understand that they are more likely to dump oil into our own drinking water than the sea water. So maybe this means the fuel floats on top of our drinking water? Who knows.
Also on the engine floor is: the desalination tanks. We took out our earplugs for him to stand on a stool (ship built by Germans+operated by dimunitive Filipinos=stools) (no offense Jason) and do something done in every job everywhere. That is tell us why he suffers: “10 years ago they really thought this system was top of the line” because it is a touch screen “well, now it is obsolete. They are definitely changing this in dry dock.” Although we would never ever have known the difference. Apparently they take in salt water (my question: “where does it come in?” his answer: “from the ocean” so this will remain a mystery also), heat it, collect the condensation, add a teeeeeeeeeeeeny bit of bleach, then we drink it. Heh. This is why we buy Evian in the crew bar. Apparently every morning you are supposed to run your faucet for 5 minutes before you use any water, because that gets the bleach out of the pipes. Our clothes are getting a teeny bit lighter with every washing. Oh well.
They really like cruising around in Canada because they can dump a lot of waste water. They have a sewage treatment plant on that floor also. It is so effective that the water gets “so clear. Like Evian water.” But apparently you still can’t drink it. The nice thing about Canada is that you can dump all of that in the ocean. We were looking at a butterscotch looking tank for a while at the end of the tour. Butterscotch with a nice foam layer you’d get on a latte. We were having some language problems (overarching problem) and I said “oh, is that a window?” and after about 5 minutes, when he sprayed an internal jet that cleared the window, I realized we were looking at raw sewage and the floating bits under the foam was toilet paper. I did not vomit. Unfortunately we kept standing there. But I did not gag or vomit. Thank you.
After the tour, we went up to get breakfast and saw a woman with serious plastic surgery and her prissy daughter. Her daughter got a waffle and said primly “I’d like mine extra crispy.” Oh lady, we haven’t blown up! You and your waffle! So cute. I have seen where it ends up.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Sea Change
A SEA CHANGE!
We have now changed itineraries. Instead of going to the Carribbean, we now go North. Halifax, St. John’s, Boston, and Martha’s Vineyard. Last week, the kid’s center had 800 kids. This week, there are 75. THE CRUISE SHIP IS TRANSFORMED.
We have a passenger safety drill every week that they announce over and over again “in 45 minutes time” “in 30 minutes time” “in 10 minutes time” “please return to your stateroom and read the card on the back of your door.” Then they sound the alarm, which is seven short blasts, followed by a long one. It was silent on my hallway, except for that alarm, an old lady angrily opened her door and said “who is that. Who is making that noise—that beeping.” And immediately, the announcer said “this has been a test of the emergency system” and the old lady shut her door.
So we have old people and no kids. This place is silent. It’s insane. I might love it. We went into the hot tub, we played ping pong, everything is quiet. And best of all, there is the fabled Eggs To Order line. This is the line that usually backs up 50 feet, even though some people don’t even want Eggs to Order. This morning (well, 11, when I get up)? I walked up. To the line. And ordered an omlette. If you had been on this cruise this summer, you would go like this: “You’re lying! Shut up! No! That is a lie! How dare you spread such LIES!????! LIAR! LIAR LIARLIARLIAR!!!!” and push me off the boat. Eggs to Order is our Holy Grail. And I do not possess the patience for it. Usually. But NOW—EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT!
We have now changed itineraries. Instead of going to the Carribbean, we now go North. Halifax, St. John’s, Boston, and Martha’s Vineyard. Last week, the kid’s center had 800 kids. This week, there are 75. THE CRUISE SHIP IS TRANSFORMED.
We have a passenger safety drill every week that they announce over and over again “in 45 minutes time” “in 30 minutes time” “in 10 minutes time” “please return to your stateroom and read the card on the back of your door.” Then they sound the alarm, which is seven short blasts, followed by a long one. It was silent on my hallway, except for that alarm, an old lady angrily opened her door and said “who is that. Who is making that noise—that beeping.” And immediately, the announcer said “this has been a test of the emergency system” and the old lady shut her door.
So we have old people and no kids. This place is silent. It’s insane. I might love it. We went into the hot tub, we played ping pong, everything is quiet. And best of all, there is the fabled Eggs To Order line. This is the line that usually backs up 50 feet, even though some people don’t even want Eggs to Order. This morning (well, 11, when I get up)? I walked up. To the line. And ordered an omlette. If you had been on this cruise this summer, you would go like this: “You’re lying! Shut up! No! That is a lie! How dare you spread such LIES!????! LIAR! LIAR LIARLIARLIAR!!!!” and push me off the boat. Eggs to Order is our Holy Grail. And I do not possess the patience for it. Usually. But NOW—EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT!
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