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Live: A grouch's Veendam Hawaii cruise, January 2015.

whogo

By whogo,
in Holland America Line

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whogo

whogo

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February 7, 2015, San Diego disembarkation and flight home.

This is the least interesting part of a cruise blog, it is also too long, quit now or take it in bites. If anyone reads this please note: It was all my fault. No one else is to blame. I said earlier that I may need to wear a “Return to Mrs. Whogo” sign around my neck on my next cruise. I should probably have worn one already.

I was up early, not sure what time (stay tuned). I could have eaten a leisurely breakfast in the dining room, but ate an omelet and bacon with fresh squeezed OJ in a lightly populated lido while Mrs. Whogo slept in. Not sure (stay tuned) if the captain docked at six as predicted. I packed away my toiletries and last minute stuff while Mrs. Whogo slept. With estimated debarkation at 9:15, I woke Mrs. Whogo at 8:30.

She complained that it was not 8:30, her clock read differently, but arose. Mrs. Whogo keeps track of time since the incident of 1996 when I changed my watch the wrong way when entering mountain time zone and we ate dinner at 4 PM instead of 6 PM. When Mrs. Whogo disputed the time again this morning I realized I was not reading the time on my digital watch, but reading the stopwatch. Oops! All my fault. We had a little extra time to kill which I spent pretending to read while Mrs. Whogo glared at me.

If I understood correctly, and you realize I may not have, self debarkation was from deck 3 while the rest of us used deck 5, I saw new crew arriving on deck 3, saw no one debark. Scanned our cards for last time and were blocked on the jetway by a young (relatively speaking) couple who refused to pass an old lady with a cane. No trouble finding our bags, we waited about three minutes for a taxi. Driver loaded our luggage, plus one for him. Painless ride, except for the way my seatbelt dug in when I tightened it when the cabbie answered his phone. Minus one for him. I could not identify his Eastern European language, $20, including tip, beat Holland America's transfers at $19 each for both speed and cost. Cabbie unloaded the luggage, ride ends with him back at plus one.

I managed the automated check in kiosk admirably, maybe I don't need the “Return to Mrs. Whogo” sign, and watched our properly tagged luggage disappear down the conveyor. Long line for security, then we were fast tracked. Not sure why, we are not that old, especially Mrs. Whogo, but we did not have to take our shoes off.

Confusion on boarding. We are in our seats, but someone else is assigned to mine. I look at my ticket stub and think I am supposed to be in row 27 instead of 26, but row 27 is already filled. Flight attendant is puzzled, turns out a passenger is looking at an old boarding pass for my seat. I had confused our boarding gate, 27, for our row. Deserve the “Return to Mrs. Whogo” sign again.

The 737 had a new interior with fancy interactive video that was 18” from my nose. How do they get the seats in so close? The video worked sometimes. Sometimes you pushed the screen and something happened, sometimes you pushed the screen and nothing happened. The video map confirmed that it was indeed Lake Mead, the Grand Canyon, Colorado River, and Lake Powell that we flew past. Thanked the pilot for the scenic viewing when deplaning. All going well enough so far, except that what had started as an occasional cough yesterday now had me feverish. I had caught the respiratory bug that had spread through the ship. Flu?

We rushed through our O'Hare transfer, a fairly long one from the end of Concourse K to the end of Concourse G. We had more time that we thought, find out at our gate that the time listed on our boarding pass is the boarding time, not the departure time. I also find out at our gate about the gate change to Concourse H, we have to retrace most of our steps, except that Mrs. Whogo has disappeared. She can sit at a gate forever, but has a knack for disappearing when boarding (or gate changes) are announced. Still, it was all my fault.

We boarded our final flight and I realize I do not have my little backpack. Nothing much in it, just a camera, ereader, a few other items, and our passports. No returning to the gate, the pilot does not contact the airport. Deserve the “Return to Mrs. Whogo” sign again.

Arrive to our home airport. Our checked luggage doesn't. Can't find anyone to report to, we taxi home with our carry ons. Do I report the missing passports? Do I call the Chicago police? I call an airline lost and found number and leave a message. I see that I should have reported the missing checked baggage at the airport and drive back there. I catch a saint of an employee on her way out who goes back to fill out the forms. She points out that I could have reported the missing bags online.

“The Beer!” I wake up shouting in the middle of the night. I had packed two 22 ounce Kona beer bottles in our checked luggage. Mrs. Whogo had grudgingly put one bottle in her bag. I could picture what had happened, the beer had frozen in the hold, burst the cap, and had leaked all over the baggage handling equipment at O'Hare. Hazmat teams had been called in. Liquid was tested. Our beer soaked bags were now sealed up somewhere waiting for me to pay a large fine and hazardous waste disposal fees. At best I see us picking broken glass and washing beer out of our clothes and throwing out the luggage.

Next day dawns clear. I pick up our delayed bags at the airport, beer bottles intact. I get a call that the lost backpack is in the mail. All good. I am designing a “Return to Mrs. Whogo” card.

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whogo

whogo

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Tuesday, February 10, 2015. Day three at home.

I failed to mention that the best brother in the whole world cleared about a foot of wet, heavy snow from our driveway and walk. What a nice welcome home!

What I heard as rump line above was a rhumb line: “In navigation, a rhumb line (or loxodrome) is an arc crossing all meridians of longitude at the same angle, i.e. a path with constant bearing as measured relative to true or magnetic north.” from Wikipedia.

My missing backpack (the one I left behind, all my fault) was returned today. Passports, camera, gps and everything else are all in good shape. The cruise is truly over.

Now that we are settled back in at home I will mention one last vexation with Holland America. It did not bother Mrs. Whogo in the least and I tried to pretend it did not bother me, but I am sure it is what weakened my immune system to make me susceptible to this cold. For the most part we were happy with unlimited laundry service. Items came back clean and neatly folded. I hate to close on a downer. On a number of occasions some of my boxers came back neatly folded and... and... inside out! What a shock to see the tag which belongs on the inside on the outside. That is not the way laundry is folded in the Whogo household. I would like to think that the laundryman folded my boxers at random the way they came out of the dryer, but there is the possibility that he did it wrong just to annoy me. As I mentioned in my last blog, I am not paranoid!

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smitty34877

smitty34877

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We were on the same cruise and had a great time. I really enjoyed your descriptions of walking on the lower promenade deck,being passed by so many people and the wind tunnel effect. I had to read your great report after getting home for obvious reasons. It was a cruise full of adventures....I also thought it was a "rump "line! Thanks for the laughs!

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sammygoose

sammygoose

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It's too bad this is a cruise forum sometimes.

 

From the deep and dark winter in Canada I would be down with a thread titled

 

Tuesday with Whogo

 

just tell us how it is but barring that I look forward to your next adventure.

 

Feel free to slip some tidbits into your everyday posts.............:D

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whogo

whogo

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Mrs. Whogo, whom I now refer to as my primary caregiver, read this blog last night, is talking to me enough to point out that I did not post anything for February 3. We were in the middle of long stretch of sea days heading to Ensenada from Hilo:

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

“What famous general graduated last in his West Point class?” Just one of the trivia questions we missed to lose yet again. Saw some of my notes from previous contests and offer up for those who need the help: Victoria, Washington, bus, emperor, Custer, six, Sneezy, Pyrenees, four, Bernstein, 1945, 1990, 1865, Jack the Ripper, Rome, Bonanza, Brazil, Charlie Chaplin, and chariot racing.

We endured an unacceptably long wait for formal night dinner, I tallied men's attire for those interested in the dress code; four dinner jackets, ten suits, eleven sport coats and one man seated without a jacket but wearing a tie. Women's attire? I haven't a clue. Mrs. Whogo looked lovely. Chairs had white covers.

We had great table mates and lots of laughs. King crab legs and Beef Wellington were the winning meals. Crab legs were split for easy eating with drawn butter, the generous portion of beef served rare as ordered. I am indifferent to the pastry crust and filling, don't think it adds much to a good cut of beef.

Last night's show was the best ever. Ventriloquist Mike Robinson had us in stitches. Warning: Walking in late to a comedy show can make you a target. “Dummy” is no longer politically correct. His wooden partner is a Mannequin American.

The late night buffet was Hawaiian themed. Late night buffets are not promoted, but listed under the Lido opening hours in On Location. The late night menu is posted all day long in the Lido.

It takes me about 5 minutes online to post this and send and receive email. With charges for minutes being rounded up, I figure I lose an average of a half minute per login. At least 10% of my minutes are wasted.

Another sea day today – nothing to do and all day to do it. Morning coffee chat in the Crow's Nest had hotel manager Randall Corcoran. HAL's small ships will be sold off as bigger ships enter the fleet. Any chance of a new small ship? Yes, on Seabourn. Like an old car, one day the Prinsendam will become too expensive to maintain.

It was not until the end of the meeting that someone asked about the pilot's rescue. I think that most of the rescue has been covered well elsewhere, but the hotel manager mentioned that the crew on the bridge could not see the pilot after he left the plane because of the swells. The Coast Guard plane guided the Veendam (getting warmer, getting warmer) for about ten minutes until they could see him in his tiny life raft. Rescue went according to plan, the pilot was experienced and calm. The hotel manager checked on the pilot in the pilot's cabin a couple of hours later. The pilot was thinking of taking in the show. “Enjoy your cruise!”

The crew were pretty proud of the rescue and both cruise director Mario and Hotel manager Randall might have welled up watching the video of the rescue.

The international dinner is tonight in the dining room, waiting for instructions from my wife, but I think we are going to the Lido where the menu looks all Filipino and Indonesian.

Our whirlpool bathtub is a bust, it is too fiddly. Do you really need to fill the tub with the shower wand? I take showers. I know the whirlpool tub is beyond my abilities. Mrs. Whogo has tried the whirlpool twice. Her first hard learned lesson was to weight down the shower wand with the plastic bathmat to keep it from spraying all over the bathroom. The second lesson, not yet mastered, is to keep all body parts away from the jets to keep water from being diverted all over the bathroom. I do not know if Mrs. Whogo will make a third attempt. I hope she doesn't, I have seen enough soaked towels and puddles.

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