Part XIII - Installment Travelogue: Cruising With the Mothers, Maasdam - Roll Call

I love the sound of children laughing. Our two boys are downstairs watching cartoons, and the sounds of delight reach all the way upstairs to my office. Of course, the children are aged 20 and 26, and they're watching The Simpsons. No matter how much things change...

This is part 13 of a story, part 63 overall. Part 13 in the first story of the series contained only the words, "This installment intentionally left blank." Superstition...

Part 1 - A Crazy Idea

Part 2 - One Down

Part 3 - Come On, Ma

Part 4 - Two to Go

Part 5 - Formalities

Part 6 - A Grand Plan

Part 7 - I Meet HAL

Part 8 - Making Do

Part 9 - To the Ship

Part 10 - Picture This

Part 11 - Entry Denied

Part 12 - Going "UP"

Three more elevators stopped, and the displays said “UP” every time.

 

“This is ridiculous,” I said. “Just get in the next one no matter what is says.”

 

Sure enough, the doors opened again next to an “UP” message, but we all piled in this time.

 

I pressed the button for the Main deck, and waited to see if the elevator would be confused by the mixed signals and travel sideways…

Part 13 (63) - Roll Call

I was almost disappointed when I felt the moment of weightlessness indicating that we were going down. As I studied the elevator’s button panel, the meaning of the “UP” display finally dawned on me.

“Do you know what “UP” means,” I asked Kris.

“Is that a metaphysical or a rhetorical question,” she answered.

“It’s an elevator question.”

“I thought I knew, but on this ship…I give up.”

“It means Upper Promenade. Those displays don’t tell you which way the elevator is going—they tell you what deck you’re on.”

“Why can’t they use numbers like everybody else? And why do they need an electronic display for that—isn’t it always going to say the same thing? Wouldn’t paint do?” asked Kris.

I’m glad I married a scientist. “One of the great mysteries of cruising,” I said.

The doors opened and we let the mothers lead the way. It’s a good thing we escorted them, as they had no idea which way to go once outside the elevator.

“This is one confusing place,” said my mother. I had to agree.

“If you need to go anywhere,” said Kris, “call me, and I’ll come and get you…at least until you’re more comfortable with the ship. ”

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Pat. “What happens next? The party?”

“Yeah—you might as well unpack while you have the chance. We’ll call you in about 40 minutes,” I said.

With the moms safely stowed in their room, Kris and I returned to cabin 220. The luggage was all there, and we set about to unpack. We have gotten very good at this, although to some, our approach might appear to be sexist. Kris is a marvel at soft goods—anything that is draped on a hanger or folded neatly and placed into a drawer. I specialize in paperwork, hardware and shoes. We split the duty on toiletries.

In no time at all, we were comfortably moved in. I admired my handiwork. The wiring was neatly laid out for the laptop, digital camera battery charger, video camera and portable stereo system. The duct tape was in a drawer with the multi-purpose tool, corkscrew and extra cables. A dozen pairs of shoes (2-to-1 in favor of Kris) were arranged in the closet. Excursion tickets were neatly filed in the document portfolio, and the passports were in the safe.

I’m not normally a complainer, but In my own special way, I’ve filed two grievances about Maasdam so far: 1) The cabin/deck/elevator numbering/naming/labeling system is nutty, and 2) The separate door key and ship’s charge card make life more complicated than it need be. My experience with the safe forces me to file grievance number three.

To open or close the safe, you must swipe a credit card through the electronic gizmo. No, there isn’t a charge. Rather, the gizmo reads the magnetic strip on the card during the closing operation, and will only open if the same card is used later on. Although the ship’s charge card has a magnetic strip presumably holding a unique code, it will not work with the safe. The failure of this system is that now one has three things to carry at all times: a room key, a ship’s charge card and a regular credit card. Of course, the latter should be in the safe where it belongs. Other clever cruise lines (well, at least one that I know of) have figured out how to make one card perform all three functions.

When we are on a ship, Kris parks her pocketbook in the safe and makes me carry her stuff (retribution, no doubt, for those times when she is carrying her pocketbook and I give her my things to put in it), so now I’d be carrying five things: Two room keys, two ship cards and a MasterCard. I don’t know if the safe takes American Express…

We finished our chores at about the same time, and stepped back to admire the handiwork. Kris scanned the shelves above the desk.

“Are those your binoculars?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“Where did you find them? I thought you gave up.”

“In Ryan’s room…last night,” I answered. The binoculars had been hiding for months, but I had a last-minute recollection that I’d lent them to son Ryan earlier in the year for his climb up Mt. Kilimanjaro. In desperation, I asked him one more time if he knew where they were.

"Nope, why would I know?" he answered.

“You didn’t borrow them for any reason?”

“No…I’d remember if I did,” he said.

I gave Ryan the benefit of doubt for a while longer, but after thoroughly exhausting all other possibilities, I finally got up the nerve to go in to his room for a check. This was risky, because if the binoculars were in there, chances were good that I'd step on them. On tiptoes, I ventured into the morass. There they were—under a stack of books stored not on the floor, but in the bookcase. There is still hope...

At a few minutes past 3:00, I collected the nametags and signs I’d made for the roll call gathering, and headed out. “I want to get up there a few minutes early,” I said to Kris. “Can you get the moms and meet me up there?”

“Sure. Where is it?”

“The Crow’s Nest Lounge. Take the forward elevators all the way to the top.”

I followed my own directions and found the lounge with no problem. In the elevator lobby, I taped up a couple of signs that read Chatterbox@Sea (Chatterbox being the name of APHC’s online forum), and drew arrows on them to direct people to the right place. The signs would lead people to the starboard aft corner of the Crow’s Nest, which is where I planted myself. With me in the lounge were two people who appeared to be setting up the bar, and a few men setting up instruments for a band.

For several minutes, that’s the way things stayed. Then I heard voices—a lot of them—coming from the entry lobby. People started streaming in the door, but not a one of them even looked my way. Rather, they rounded the corner and headed across the room. Soon there were at least 50 people chatting merrily at the front of the room, and one droopy-eyed guy in a funny t-shirt talking to himself at the “official” roll call gathering.

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People continued to arrive at a steady pace, and eventually one couple broke away from the stream and headed toward me.

“Chester H?” asked the woman.

“You’re in the right place,” said. She introduced herself and her husband. We made small talk while I flipped through papers on my clipboard and found a nametag for each of them. Several more people appeared, and the roll call party was on.

By now, the group at the front of the room had grown to about 200 people—so large that it was starting to merge with the roll call party. Kris arrived with the mothers.

“Wow! This is quite a turnout,” she said. “I thought you said you couldn’t get anyone interested in doing this.”

“There’s something else going on here,’ I said, almost shouting to be heard above the din, “and whatever it is, it keeps growing.” I nodded at the handful of couples wearing nametags. “Here’s our group.”

We had another round of introductions for the benefit of the new arrivals. A man walked up to me and asked, “Are you the tour guide?” I guess the nametag and clipboard gave him the wrong idea, and he was disappointed when I suggested that he fight the crowd and seek the guide at the front of the room. He never got the chance though—at that moment, the mass of people began departing for their tour.

More people found us, and I had a line waiting for nametags. I motioned Kris to come within earshot.

“Would you mind getting me a G&T from the bar?” I asked.

“Sure—can I have my card, please?”

I dug through my pockets and produced the card before greeting the next person in line. The new arrivals included Susan. I was somewhat surprised to see her. Although she was probably the most active poster on the forums (besides me), she had expressed skepticism about the whole idea of a get together. Turns out that Susan is a freelance writer in Minneapolis and a real character to boot—of all the passengers on board, we would see more of her than anyone else.

Kris returned empty handed. “Did I give you the wrong card?” I asked.

“The bar is closed. Nobody is there,” she answered.

“Great,” I said. “I told people the bar would be open. This is supposed to be a party…” My duties as host distracted me from obsessing about the lack of libation for very long.

A couple approached me, and once again, the woman took the lead. “Chester?”

I knew right away who it was. The British accent gave it away. “Catherine?”

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” Catherine said.

I had received an email from Catherine way back in January. She “knew” me from the early days on CruiseCritic, where she is an admitted “lurker.” She read my mention that we’d be on this cruise, and tracked me down through my website. When I showed Kris the first email from Catherine, she got all excited.

“Is he the famous scientist?” she asked. Catherine’s husband shares the same first and last name with a Nobel Laureate who broke ground in the field of DNA.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Wouldn’t he have to be about a hundred years old?”

Kris thought about it for a moment. “I suppose he would. Maybe he’s the son.”

“Could be,” I said. “We’ll see…”

Catherine and her husband are big fans of APHC. In one email, Catherine wrote:

I have been a fan of G.K. for many years, since hearing him read one of his books on BBC radio. We have always listened to APHC whenever we visit the USA(2-3 times a year) and since I got my computer 2 years ago, I listen every week, sometimes live, although this starts at 11pm here in England, so I usually listen on a Monday when it goes in the archive. We have managed to see one show live when it came to Dublin, Ireland, which is the nearest it has been to us. We flew out one day and back the next, and it was wonderful to be part of such a special event. I just can't wait to see the live entertainment on the cruise, and to be with like minded people.

We spent quite a while talking. I kept looking around for Kris so she could meet the famous scientist, but she had disappeared. Several minutes later, she appeared carrying a G&T. What a gal…

“Thanks. Where’d you get this?” I asked, taking a healthy sip. “Ahhh, that hits the spot…”

“I went down to the pool bar,” Kris said. “I’ll pass the word around in case anyone else is thirsty.”

“I’d like you to meet Catherine and her famous husband, [name withheld],” I said.

“No relation,” Catherine clarified. “We’re just regular people, I’m afraid.” And delightful, I might add.

Among the interesting tidbits I picked up is that the charter company refused to accept a booking from overseas. The couple had to have an American friend book their passage.

The mothers worked the room on their own, mixing with the twenty-seven people who ultimately showed up at the gathering. Not a bad turnout, I suppose, but my future as social host is by no means assured.

Muster was scheduled for 4:15, and Kris departed with the moms a few minutes beforehand to help them find their room and lifejackets. She and I agreed to meet in our cabin, leaving the mothers to fend for themselves in finding their way to the muster station. I thought it was important to inject a little realism into the exercise.

I arrived in the cabin just as the call-to-muster sounded. We donned our lifejackets and climbed down the stairs to the assigned station.

“Hey, the mom’s have the same lifeboat number as we do,” Kris said.

“Do you think they’ll find it?” I asked.

The atmosphere on the promenade was rather unruly. In every other muster drill I’ve attended, passengers were lined up like soldiers. In this instance, people milled about aimlessly. The PA system came to life, and I assume the announcer gave some instructions. Unfortunately, the speaker closest to us was ready for retirement, and I didn’t understand a single word. When the garbled transmission ceased, a crewmember who was leaning against the railing stepped forward and shouted a number. Then he shouted it again.

“Here!” came a voice from the crowd.

“Oh, they’re taking attendance,” I said. “That’s a new one on me.”

A little while later, the crewmember shouted, “220!”

Kris and I replied in harmony, “Here!”

People continued to wander around during this part of the drill. Kris was craning her neck to see through the crowd.

“Do you see them?” she asked.

“I’m not looking,” I said. “They’re big girls…”

It occurred to me that I hadn’t brought the camera. I was thinking about how I would convince the moms to put on their lifejackets later for a little fashion photography session when my ears perked up.

“660!” shouted the crewmember. Silence.

“660! Cabin 660!?”

I find your rendition about the safe most interesting and have to agree to a certian point. It would be nice if you were able to use your room charge card, but if I remember correct about the Galaxy, the safe in our cabin there was an electronic number that you input instead of a credit card. So good to read your writing once again and am looking most forward to your comparision of HAL and X. You have not lost your touch in pros and keeping us waiting for the next installment. Wishing you and Kris the best for the holiday season.

...but if I remember correct about the Galaxy, the safe in our cabin there was an electronic number that you input instead of a credit card...

Quite correct - I failed to mention that alternative, though it's effect on the number of cards one must carry is the same.

All the best to you and yours,

chesterh (and Kris)

Another wonderful installment. Thank you.

As a suggestion for anyone cruising this ship. You can use any card at all that has a magnetic strip ....other than the ship's I.D. If you have an old library card, an expired credit card....anything. I use an old grocery store card. The store is long out of business.

If you use a 'worthless' card, you can lock your Mastercard, Visa, AmEx etc in the safe and not worry about them being lost.

Oh, come on... A cliffhanger? The suspense, the suspense :) !

I'm surprised that HAL's muster drill seemed disorganised to you - this is very unusual for HAL. Usually, they are super-thorough... I guess you caught them on an "off" day!

Incidentally, HAL's wacky cabin number system changed when ROTTERDAM was introduced in 1997. (That's three ships after MAASDAM in the sequence of HAL newbuilds.) Now the cabin numbers are like most other ships - four digits, beginning with deck number. They just haven't re-numbered the cabins on the older ships.

I think the elevator displays changed to numbers at some point too, though not at the same time that they re-numbered the cabins, since ROTTERDAM still had the old ones. I'm pretty sure the new ships do have numbers instead.

To answer Kris' question - they use LED displays because the display changes as the car moves from deck to deck. It tells you what deck the car is on. Of course, if you're on Upper Promenade, the display will always say "UP" (for Upper Promenade) when it is on that deck.

On the card issue, the newer HAL ships do have only one card as your cabin key - it is possible that this will be changed when MAASDAM goes in for her next refit. Back in 1994 when she was built, these fancy card gizmos didn't exist. You had your cabin key (the ones with the little holes punched in them, which were "new" and high tech at the time, or a real key if the ship wasn't so new) and a paper boarding pass (with no photo). The all-in-one magnetic-strip cards are a new invention, they came about in the late '90s or thereabouts. The first ship I personally remember being built with them was GRAND PRINCESS (built 1998). As for safes, they use the magnetic-stripe ones because people have a tendency to forget the code number they program into the code number ones... And then every time that happens, someone has to come down to the cabin to unlock the safe. It's a pain in the neck, so a lot of ships and hotels use the magnetic-stripe ones. I think they don't use the ship's cards as a security feature of some sort - on the new ships where the ship's card is your key, what's the point of a safe if anyone who can open the door of the cabin can open the safe too?

Anyway, just a little insight into the reasons behind your grievances there. Looking forward as always to the next installment, and to hearing what those naughty mothers have gotten up to ;) ...

Thanks Chester. Its wonderful to have a mid week chapter and I continue to feel as if I am right there on the ship with you. BTW - my two sons are 24 and 26 and they still love the Simpsons also. -g.

Host Doug - I think the problem in our area during the muster drill was caused entirely by the fact that the PA was unintelligible. For all I and anyone else in our area knew, we were being told to line up and stand quietly. We couldn’t see what was going on elsewhere, but I think it was a localized issue.

Glad to hear that logic is being applied to the cabin and deck numbering. We eventually figured out the LED display, but even then I did not find that it was terribly useful to know a given elevator was on “UP” or “LP.” However, for the amusement it provided during this initial encounter, I am grateful to the designers and engineers.

I fully expect that by the time we get on another ship, they’ll be using retinal scanners to control room and safe access, as well as on-board charges. I can see it now… Order a drink at the bar, and the bar tender will aim a laser scanning wand at you face and say, “Don’t blink, sir…”

Thanks sail7seas, I wish I had known that. In this instance, our credit card was pretty close to worthless after paying for the cruise and excursions, so it was probably better to protect the grocery discount card…

seadrifter, actually I often find The Simpsons pretty amusing, too. I think I’ll sit and watch it with them tonight…

All the best,

chesterh

Thanks for posting another installment.

Good reading.

Can't wait for the next one, ChesterH!!!

Loving it still chesterh!!:)

Chester,

Your ears must be burning as we all discuss you. If DH sees me come out of the office with printouts in hand, he gets excited (thinking it's the next chapter) when I tell him "no, not yet" the adjectives describing you start at "devious" and "sadistic" and go to where the moderators would pull my post. On Christmas Day, his response was "What else does he have to do?"

Patiently waiting for the next chapter (at least one of us is).

Your humble servant,

I nominate Chesterh for the "Grinch who stole Christmas" award this year! I had soooo hoped for another chapter in the saga over the holiday. I feel like I got coal in my stocking. Looking forward to a new post soon!:D

I bought "What Time is the Midnight Buffet" for myself. My Sis, who prefers adventurous land vacations, picked it up to read while visiting over Christmas. She didn't get to finish reading so begged to take it to finish and mail back. (I was tempted to keep something valuable as collateral.)

Today, I received an e-mail accusing me of being very devious because she is suddenly overwhelmed with an urge to book a cruise and wants me to join her. Way to go chesterh!!! I have a new cruise buddy! Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Chester, as I have previously mentioned, some things are worth waiting for... and your installments are definitely high on that list!

Unfortunately, until I am able to support you in the lifestyle to which you have become accustomed, I will have to be patient while you continue to do all the little things, like work, that infringe on your writing time. Should I win the lottery, however...

Thank you, Krazy Kruizers, Cruisin Kay D and Janice.

Susan, I’ll accept those adjectives on the condition that the following are appended to the list: harried, exhausted and overextended…

I left work last Wednesday, ostensibly for the rest of the year. However, I got called in today from mid-morning until dinner time. At least traffic was light.

Went to Connecticut to visit my parents, my sister and her family yesterday. The ride home - very late at night - featured snow squalls, black ice and white knuckles.

Kris took the boys to visit their grandfather on Saturday – he is a late stage Alzheimer’s patient. Everyone watched with surprise as he snatched a felt ornament off the Christmas tree – and ate it. There was no apparent harm, so we are choosing to laugh about it now…

jjones, I had great plans for my “free time.” Unfortunately, so did many other people. We are hosting the annual get-together with Kris’s extended family on Thursday, so I know what is in store tomorrow – cleaning, three trips to the grocery store, and lots of cooking.

the2ofus, that is a gratifying report. Better make that reservation now while the gettin’ is good – before your sister reads one of the cruise industry exposé books. And I certainly think she should get her own copy…

Marsha - as I’ve mentioned, my plans for this “vacation” haven’t quite worked out. Cruising aside, I’m pretty low maintenance. You only need to win enough to keep me from starving while I type - I'll even do the cooking...

So that's about it for excuses. Now, I'll get to work...

chesterh