Departures – life at sea
It’s 10:30 am. All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go. Marco will be joining me on my way to Miami… so we meet on the gangway with all our lives packed in a couple of suitcases. As I wait for the tender to do dock on the side of the ship, I get flashbacks of my life on the Voyager. I’ve met a lot of people, made some good friends here, been thru some interesting experiences. Will never forget the Harley ride across Cozumel Mexico, with Marco on my back as my bike-bitch; nor will I forget Elena and that beautiful morning on the beach in Nice. I know I have more memories than that, but for some reason, I was stuck with these for now.
I should be happy, but I’m sad. Looking back at the Voyager now as it gets further and further away I realize that I will have to start all over again. All the trouble I went thru in the beginning, all the fighting to get the team’s trust, and of course, getting used to the new ship all over again. I can’t help noticing that working on a ship, especially as a photographer, you never belong somewhere… I always have this feeling that I’m always leaving. Sometimes I’m leaving a place, just to come back a week later, other times I leave for good.
Traveling with Marco is an adventure by all means. Right after clearing the immigration office in Grand Cayman, he’s realized that he has forgot our letters of employment on his desk, in the office. Of course we couldn’t find them online, so we had to go to the airport and try our luck.
The airport incident:
Of course we missed our plane. We’ve been living on a ship for so long, we forgot that the ship has a different time zone than Grand Cayman. The look on the airliner employee’s face was priceless… two crazy photographers with huge carry-on’s and suitcases were trying to catch a plane that just took off. Lucky me, I even got the trainee at the airline desk. Trainees are horrible, not because they’re new to the job and can’t always handle it, but because they do everything by the book, always! So there was no way I was going to get unnoticed with extra 3 kg of check in luggage on the plane. Funny enough we still were allowed one extra item of luggage on board. Since there are no shops in the airport , we had to stuff all out excess items in a cardboard box and then wrap it up in masking tape. I was unlucky enough to have the ugly box put under my name. But at least there’s the luggage problem gone.That was piece of cake, though!, we desperately had to come up with the letters of employment. Otherwise we would be illegally stuck in the Caymans. Back in the office, Hector wasn’t surprised to hear from Marco. Apparently he gets into trouble more often then he’s not. Thru some mumbo jumbo miracle, we managed to get the letters faxed to us. Gut! Now all we have to do is get to the plane. After having to strip for the x-ray machine we went into the next room, which was the bar, shop and departure lounge, all in one. And there I was thinking that Henri Coanda was the smalles airport in the world.
We didn’t have to wait long, the flight we were booked on was only a couple of hours away,. There is only one or two gates in the international airport of Grand Cayman. It’s usually unguarded, only when there’s a flight does a airline employee make his appearance and starts talking out loud. I was thinking of making a run for it. Nobody would probably notice me, I would reach the tarmac , take my camera out, and start shooting.
A familiar voice cut right through my dream. Though I couldn’t match the face to this voice, I knew that I’ve heard it before, not so long ago. It was calling out our flight number. Time to board. I wasn’t in any hurry. Unlike most travelers, I like to let everybody go first, queue in, and only go in when the rush is over. As luck will have it, the familiar voice remembered my name, So when I heard it thru the PA I jumped out of my chair. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes since the initial boarding message, but she was calling and waving at me. I ran up to the counter, and only then did it hit me. It was the trainee. Seeing we were sitting there sipping our drinks she got anxious and decided to take action. There was no way she was going to let us miss this plane too.
As we stepped out, towards the plane, we went thru another strip search, right on the tarmac. There were some tables set up right as the plane was in sight; right next to them a six foot ten typical Hollywood black bodyguard persona. I hate airport security. Only had one carry on, but I had to open all… take the laptop out, the camera, lenses, filters, batteries, cards …
We were finally free. There is a strange feeling when walking towards a plane on the airfield. Unlike the terminals we are used too, where you go from room to room, tunnel and then another small room where you take a seat. This is different. Here you get a urgent feeling of departure. You get to see the means of transportation from afar. I had a lot of time to analyze the plane while walking up to it. It fit the background perfectly. Not necessary the smallest plane, and thank god, not a propeller plane. But probably one of the smallest jet planes. It was old but beautifull, like the planes I saw when I was a small child on tv. No paint on the outside, but pure shiny metal. It was blinding in the afternoon sun. the “WooW” factor was bigger then when I firs boarded a 747. This tiny little plane managed to strike a chord somewhere inside. Of course, I had to stop on the runway and take a closer look . It was beautifull, in all it’s details. You could even see the ribbots holding the metal plates together. My mind was going crazy, and just as I thought it was safe to take my camera out and snap away, a guy came out of nowhere and pushed me towards the plane. Amazing how they keep showing up from thin air over here.
In my tiny seat, no legroom, camera bag shoved tight under the forward seat. Point of no return. My Voyager days are over, the Oasis is awaiting. As we rise and aim for the skies, the clouds open for a brief moment and a bright ray of light pierces my eyes. The Voyager is slowly sailing away from port, shining like a star in the evening sun.
They build Incredible
– and we have to learn how to live with it….Standing on the pier in Nassau, I had to sit down for a moment and take it all in. The Oasis is docked next to a Carnival, Costa and a Disney ship. They are by no means small vessels, but Oasis dwarfs them easily. After several minutes contemplating on size and numbers, I had to gather my strength and board the ship. Oasis beware! Here I come… (little did I know, it would be the other way round)
My first days on the Oasis were of sheer awe. One can’t help feeling anything but small when faced with something that by all means should not be able to do what it’s supposed to. People felt this way when the 747 or the A380 were launched. Those planes should not fly. They are so big, they resemble a dragon more than anything. Same with the Oasis. Rather than a ship, it looks more like an sea monster that should live underwater. Against all odds, this big metal city floats and rules steadily over any weather conditions.
Longer than the Eiffel tower is high and higher than a 10-story building, this is the largest cruise-ship in the world. I can’t help thinking about what was the biggest ship in the 1920’s and what happened to that one. And just like the Titanic, Oasis gives you the feeling that it cannot sink. Everything onboard is huge and groundbreaking.
Once onboard, I had to go thru a 3 day training course designed to bring me up to speed with the new technology. Of course I took this time as a well deserved break, so I would take a nap every time I had a chance. Chief Safety tried to scream and shout whenever he saw someone napping… but little did he know that we, eastern Europeans, have been used to this attitude ever since the invention of modern democracy.
Walking around the ship I couldn’t keep thinking that the designer board had employed at least a couple of kids and well “dreamy” people. And to top it all up, they approved it all. You name it, they’ve got it.
Why not have a big lavender field in the middle of the promenade, right next to the floating bar? Why not have a big park at sea, with a big opening to the sky and the elements? Why not have a zip line that will take you across the ship at mind-blowing heights? Why not have a skating ring in the middle of the Caribbean islands? Why not…
The team –the people
I had to learn this the hard way, but I couldn’t be friends with everybody in a team of 30. I felt like back in high school… only back then, I didn’t have to live and sleep with my classmates. That wouldn’t be a problem if all my classmates would resemble Claudia Schiffer, but I never was that lucky. I realize now that I had a good life on the Voyager… being part of a team composed mainly of European countries. My teammates now were more than I could handle. Our team alone felt like a G9 meeting and I was the envoy of the UN meant to blend in and play the game. No chance!
There is one thing though, that almost everybody in the team has in common. They are more or less involved in a relationship, most of them within the team. I made a promise to myself that I would not go that far… part because there was nobody left , but also because I had enough of them during my 12 hours of working with them. I needed a way out. Hopefully my bad lady-luck would not follow me half way ‘round the world. So I had to give it a try. Since Oasis is the home of more than 2000 crewmembers, one single recreation venue (like on the Voyager) was not enough. Here I had the choice between 3 different crew bars, luckily all within few minutes’ walk . My plan was perfectly worked out. I was to start with the Venetian disco on deck 3 – that’s where all the music would be, so that’s where I should find the party people. And what do all party people have in common? … sex. (at least that’s the way I saw it) That was the safest bet. Now, if that was to fail, I would swiftly go for the Moose & Squirrel pub on deck 5. By the sound of it, that should be a British joint, full of alcohol. Another recipe for success: ladies + alcohol = see above. If by any rotten chance I still were unlucky, I would always have the third option – the deck under the helipad, deck 6. That’s the only place were people are allowed to smoke. But it sounded to me that was the place where people that don’t fit any of the above go. So, technically, that could be the safest bet – that’s where the rejected souls would gather. You catch the drift, any direction I would go, I was sure to get some.
Of Course, things didn’t really go as planned. Sure, there was music on deck 3, but it was full of Philippinos doing Karaoke. Apparently that’s their national sport and I was not ready to take such a big leap of faith. On deck five there was loads of alcohol, probably the finest on the seven seas. But no ladies… just men, listening to Freddy Mercury, being happy but sorrow by themselves. Since getting drunk was not the name of the game, I had to go for option number 3. This was my escape, surely after the disappointment from deck 3 & 5, I would find something delicious under the helipad.
Where did everybody go? This is like a private party between the dj and the bartender… oh yes, and the smoking corner. Unbelievable but true, my plan has failed me once again! Nothing left to do but to light one up. I quickly join the smoking corner were we all sit in circles around the ashtray. By looking at their faces I can tell that their plans for the night are also busted. As for my status, this was to remain unchanged for the next four months, right until the week before last…
My story begins with a sad departure, and ends with another. This time it’s of a different nature. I have been looking for someone to share my experiences with all this time and found nothing. So in my last week I decide – screw this! I’m just gonna go out there, and mess with the firs cute thing that comes into sight. Lucky me – the moment I step on the I95 I meet the cute girl from guest services. I’ve seen her before, but never really had the guts (I personally blame it on time) to talk to her. Well this is it. I walk up to her and we say our first hello. Was amazed at how easy that was and so we went up do the Venetian, for what was going to be the best and only cool night in that disco. The night didn’t end there, come to think of it, it didn’t end at all. We spent it all talking hand having a blast on deck 18, under the stars, right up until the sun came out on the horizon. That’s when the beauty of it (and my stupidity) hit me. I was at sea for seven months now, but never did I make the effort to wake up early in the morning and go see the sunrise. Unfortunately this moment of glory was short-lived, since I had to change out of my tuxedo and go back to work. Sleep nil, have a great time 1. The whole last week was a marathon between work and meeting Kristina. As it turns out, she lives in Debrecen, a small Hungarian town close to the Romanian boarder. Things were falling into place, without me even noticing. On my last day in St Maarten I decidet to finally go to the Maho beach – a unique place in the world, famous for the airplanes landing overhead. I took Kristina with me, but I wanted it to be a surprise. So I didn’t tell her were we’re headed until the last moment, when she realized for herself. I might be lying now, but she seemed to be crying on the inside. At the very least that made her very happy, which made me kind of sad.
Life on the ship is about leaving. Leaving ports only to come back one week later. Leaving continents, habits, while exploring new countries. Leaving friends and dear ones, just to start all over again. There comes a time when you realize that you don’t want to leave no more, not this person. Well my friends, that’s when the shit hits the fan.
a ground-breaking experience
December 13, 2010 at 5:11 pm