Ok, day three of the trip but day one of the cruise. Some of us Triple or Skipper Dippers were edgy this morning. Memories of the first year’s embarkation still in our minds. Was last year a fluke? You look at the Single/Double Dippers with deep, dark eyes and say ‘You don’t know man, you weren’t *there*’.
No fluke. We seemed to be on board in minutes. Actually probably about an hour but so much was going on it seemed like minutes. Before we got anywhere near check-in we had to fill out a short questionnaire: ‘Have you had diarrhoea in last 48 hours?’ A bit personal, I thought. I was tempted to write ‘No, but I feel something brewing, and I just eat 40 prunes’ but resisted.
First odd thing. Walking along the deck of the NCL Jewel towards the entrance, we came across a line of smiling crew holding trays of champagne flutes. Us Carnival seasoned veterans were not falling for this! You see, over the past two years we’ve been caught out by the offering of Carnival Souvenir drinks. They look free, they are offered to you as if they are free, but the second you touch them, BANG, out comes the check to sign so it gets billed to your room. It was only when I noticed other people picking up drinks and not having to sign I realised the beautiful truth: free drinks.
Several glasses of sparkling wine later, we had made temporary camp in the Atrium for no other good reason than it was near the free drinks and there was a guy really going for the Kenny Rogers look and playing some nice songs on his acoustic guitar while Jimmy and Paddy did circuits of the room - burning off pent-up energy from all the standing around. Looking back now, and more on this later, I think Sixthman would have played a blinder if Mike Evin had got on board early to take that slot. Best. Embarkation. Ever.
Word spread around that the rooms were now open so we headed off. This is always a tricky time on Ships and Dip. The four stage process is Board, Room, Muster, Run to Sailaway Show. We’re now at ‘Room’. You turn up, poke stuff, wonder where your luggage is and then generally mill about. Eventually the PA announces the start of the Muster Drill. Don your lifejacket and head to your ‘muster point’. It’s about as exciting as aircraft safety announcements but with walking. Still, it’s fun to pretend you’re on Titanic for a few minutes.
The chaos starts with the final stage: Run. Those who get to the pool deck first get best spots for the first show. This has led to several strategies being developed by savvy Dippers. None, however, compare to our friends who hid in their room for the entire drill, didn’t get busted by the steward, then made an early escape to the pool deck and got us spots by the hot tub. Awesome!
There is always a moment of relief when you notice the dock moving away from you. You never feel the motion, it just suddenly catches the corner of your eye that the very large skyscrapers appear to be on castor wheels. At that point there is nothing more you can do. If you forgot it, it’s not coming with you. This was taken to s strange high by Ellen from St Louis. Her husband forgot his passport, so she forgot him. He never made it on board!
So, buckets of beer procured, edge of hot tub perched on, small child on shoulders. Here come the band. I missed Fin’s gravel tones introducing the this year and instead he was replaced by the two guys from Kids In The Hall, one of which has the *oddest* voice. I’m guessing there is joke I am not in on - even though I used to watch it in my teens! Finally, after a year’s wait, I saw Barenaked Ladies take to the stage and launch into ‘Some Fantastic’. As in previous years, a one-hour acoustic set followed with all the trademark banter you can expect. (or could - but more on that later)
It was a great set - possibly the best sailaway we’ve had. Highlights were Go Home, the hilarious Kevin Hearn guitar solo on Wind Me Up (see the video), The King of Bedside Manor and a blinding finish with Rio. So, normal service. Very good.
Next up was the message board party. A great chance to see some dear friends and finally put faces to (nick)names. I’d organised a candy swap for the many (as it turned out) who crave UK chocolate goodness. In the weeks leading up the cruise, the whole thing got a little out of control and we ended up with enough goodies from all over the world to put Wonka out of business. Some stuff has been specifically requested (such as the humble Kinder Egg and majestic Hob Nobs) and many other people had just brought things along to join in. It was overwhelming. I hastily rearranged some seats to put the candy on and inadvertently created a all-you-can-eat buffet of sugar goodness.
Photo © Will Byrlington
During this time, a sharply dressed m an wearing an official NCL name badge approached me. “Are you responsible for this?”, he asked. Wondering if we were all about to be kicked out for messing up his nice bar I replied with “Yes”. “Good on ya mate, that’s f**king awesome.”, he replied in a broad Australian accent. “I’m the cruise director. I see you’ve got some Tim Tams there, any chance of a couple?” Relieved, I gladly agreed. I didn’t stay ’till the end but I hear there was an overjoyed NCL crew member who cleaned up on left-over candy.
Following a bite to eat, Lady Trish and I caught a little bit of Gaelic Storm on the pool deck before heading over to see Boothby Graffoe perform his first set. I guess he decided to mix things up a bit as he was very near the knuckle. No matter how clever the wordplay, you’re probably never going to get away with a song called ‘Death to America’ in this part of the World. That said, I like seeing comedians take risks and experiment like that. It’s how we got Bill Hicks and Lenny Bruce. We collected Paddy from Kids Club and headed for bed on a very satisfying first day.
