Welcome back to the Spring Break recap. Last time I wrote about our pitstops at a couple of obscure Orlando locales.

But Disney and Universal were only addendums to the true purpose of our cross-country jaunt. Why drive all the way across Northern Florida for entertainment when you can just get on a boat and have said entertainment all around you? 

Of course, for this comparison to work, the ship would have to be smaller than Disney World, which they aren’t anymore. Or Florida, for that matter. But the theory is still sound. 

At least I’m less likely to lose my rental car while on a boat. 

Wife and I have cruised a number of times, both separate and together. We love them. I know not everybody feels that way. Last time we cruised, it was with a couple trying their first cruise and they’ve had absolutely no inkling of ever returning. 

So we figured nine was a good age to determine if Daughter was going to follow in our footsteps, or if we needed to put her up for adoption. I know the perfect land-locked couple! 

Wife wanted to start with an Alaska cruise, but they don’t run in springtime. They also tend to be on the longer side on the off-chance Daughter decided cruises weren’t for her – a more likely conclusion when it’s thirty degrees and sleeting on the Lido Deck. 

Meanwhile, I looked at a Carnival cruise to Key West and Cozumel, because I’ve never been to Key West and Daughter’s growing into a mini-parrothead. Three problems with that option: Carnival. Spring Break. Key West.

“Daddy, what’s a stripper pole?”

We finally opted for a quick four-dayer on Royal Caribbean to Nassau (the East Cost Ensenada) and the private island that pretty much every cruise line has in the Caribbean that simply is not available on my side of the country. 

We chose Royal Caribbean because it’s a good middle ground between Carnival and the fancier lines. While I don’t remember which cruise lines my family took me on in my youth, as an adult, I’ve always took Carnival. They’re cheap and boozy meat markets, which was precisely what I wanted in my twenties. 

But the last time I rode on Carnival (that Ensenada junket with the noobs), it felt lackluster. I’m sure part off that is my age, but I also believe that Carnival has slipped. Or the clientele has. It’s gone from a “nudge-nudge, wink-wink” booze cruise to a full-fledged “Ain’t nobody on this boat for the ambiance.”

We looked at Disney Cruises for, oh, about five seconds. I know there’s a Marvel Day at Sea, but for that price, it better include a hand job from Chris Hemsworth.  

Princess and Norwegian are more expensive than Royal Caribbean, but have fewer sailing options. So Royal Caribbean is still mass market like Carnival, but just costly enough to get rid of the riff-raff. In the end, it ended up being about the speed we were looking for. Somewhere between dive bar and Ritz. 

Except maybe not on Spring Break next time. 

Sorry, getting ahead of myself.  Let’s start with: 

The Biggest Change

Even though I’ve been on cruises as an adult, this was the cruise where I noticed the most pronounced changes from Ye Olde Cruisin’ days of the 1980s. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t chalk things up to Carnival anymore or maybe it’s because, with a child along, I was not just sipping pina coladas by the pool for the entirety of the cruise. 

But the biggest change I noticed was that most people aren’t just sipping pina coladas by the pool anymore. 

On cruises of yesteryear, EVERYTHING happened on the Lido Deck. Nothing worth doing was anywhere south of the 8th or 9th floor. Everything below that was rooms and a couple gangplanks.

I remember boarding my first cruise with my wife. There was a cute little entry way with a small bar along with maybe the shore excursion deck and a few other general information spots. They had a library with some board games and sudoku puzzles, and I was convinced we’d spend copious amounts of time down here, reading and whatnot with maybe a snifter of brandy. 

The next time I saw said library was when we were getting off the boat five days later. 

The entryway to our current cruise was fucking ginormous. It was three stories tall and stretched all the way from the forward elevators to the aft. Multiple bars and eateries opened out onto a cobblestone-painted floor. And that pizzeria pushed out free slices at a pace I wouldn’t imagine possible. Seriously, there were always people in line, and yet that line never took longer than a handful of minutes.

As we walkred around on emarcation day, I was reminded of that library I never saw again. These fountains and the fancy car were totally rad, but ultimately a waste since we’d likely never come back here. Maybe, just maybe, I could remind myself to check out the Schooner Bar once before we disembark.

But cruising’s changed. Instead of pushing us up toward the pools, most of the activities pushed us back down to this promenade. These were the bars that hosted trivia, that faux-cobblestone turned into the nightly dance club. Hell, even the karaoke bar was on deck five.

There were still plenty of things to do up on the Lido Deck (although I don’t think they call it the Lido Deck anymore). Mini golf and a zip line, the buffet restaurant, and abviously the pools. Pools, plural, because there isn’t really a main pool.  This boat had maybe three of four “primary” pools, none of which were bigger than, say, a 20’x20′ square. If there were more than ten people in a pool, it was crowded, and even if it was empty, nobody’s swimming laps.

But unless you were heading up there for the purposes of the mini golf or the zip line or, increasingly unlikely, the pools, there wasn’t really much of a draw to the upper parts of the ship.

In addition to the Promenade, which was in the center of the ship, there was an open-air Boardwalk area at the rear. It was made to look like a Coney Island or Santa Cruz, complete with a hot dog stand, a carousel, and an arcade (although most of the games in this arcade were broken). This was also where the climbing wall was and, let me tell you, it was legit. It went up six floors, where it gave way to the zip line.

The most impressive addition to these “inside the ship” locations was a park, located on the 8th floor, precisely above (and creating the ceiling of) the Promenade. This park was… I mean, it was a fucking park. Like, plants and winding paths and benches and shit. One of the tables had a chess board, another had backgammon, although I never figured out where to get the pieces. And like the Boardwalk, this was open air. Even though there were another eight decks above it, it actually opened to the sky. In fact, the spot directly above the park is where the ginormous pool would’ve been on earlier ships.

This layout made for an odd ship design, in that most of the balconies were on the INSIDE of the ship. Historically, most of the rooms on a cruise were porthole rooms. Most of the interior rooms went to the crew, but there were still a handful available for those looking for cheaper prices. The balconies were only on a handful of floors. Primarily because they had to be outside the ship. I never understood the purpose, because it can get damn windy on the outside a ship going twenty knots. Not exactly the place to read a book and sip a mai tai. 

Most of these balconies, instead, faced inward, rising above the Boardwalk on deck six aft and the park on deck eight mid. There were still some outside of the ship, but I assume those weren’t as popular. I’d actually spend time on one of those internal balconies, and in fact I saw a few of them being used. Although I assume the ones above the boardwalk stayed loud after hours. There was a spectacular water show that ran most nights at 10:15 pm.

I assume the balconies above the park were quiet. The few times I checked it out after hours, or even during regular hours, it was filled with quiet, contented people.

If we were left to our own devices, I think both Wife and I would’ve spent the majority of our cruise in the park. It’s weird, because if you had asked me what I would like to see added to cruises, I don’t think that a park would’ve made my top twenty. Or even my top hundred because it wouldn’t have even entered my consciousness as something that was feasible or desirable. When somebody brought it up the first time, were they laughed out of the board room? Or did all the other people in the room suddenly start scratching their chin, pondering, which was my reaction when I saw the picture of a tree on the elevator.

Yet each time Wife or I had some free time (me, when she took Daughter to see Mamma Mia, her when I took Daughter to Nassau), we each spent our time reading not by the pool, but on a park bench. If only they could add a couple of chaise longues.

The Card and the App

Ships have been using the key to your room as your primary form of interaction since the beginning of time. Nowadays, they also have an app.

Of course, my dumb ass lost my room key the one time I was left alone. While Wife and Daughter were at Mamma Mia, I sidled into the Schooner Bar for some trivia and a drink, because they had this wonderful concoction called a rum old fashioned. I opined recently that I’m enjoying rum more than whiskey, but I wasn’t sure if it was the rum or the fact that too many whiskey drinks are just whiskey. Well, I discovered on this cruise that, nope, it’s the whiskey. Because the rum old fashioned only had rum with a splash of coconut simple syrup and bitters, and I loved it.  

But when I sat down, I couldn’t find my card. I freaked the fuck out. The waiter, not wantign to lose a tip, says “It’s fine, we can still charge your room.” But I was concerned less about paying for my drink than about how many other people’s drinks I was paying for right now. 

Kinda funny, our reactions. I’m freaking out that my identity is being stolen, while he’s rolling his eyes at something he’s probably seen happen a thousand times. Maybe I should’ve taken a hint from the guy who encounters it more often.

After checking my last two or three locations, I booked it down to customer service to get a replacement. The moment it was in my hand, before I could get out “Is the old card…” the employee assured me that activating this new card deactivates the old one. Again, guessing it’s everybody’s most pressing query.

I also noticed that they didn’t ask for my id when I got my replacement. In fact, I didn’t even have to verify my name. I gave them my room number, they asked “Are you Mr. Anthony?” Jeez, they really don’t give a shit who’s charging what to whose account!

Of course, then I remembered that we had pictures tied to our account. So chances are whoever picked up my card could only use it if they were some overweight middle-aged dude with a mostly graying goatee that he’s still trying to make look hip. 

So, only like forty percent of the cruisegoers. 

And fortunately, you can track all your purchases on the app, which I watched like a hawk for the next twelve hours. 

So yeah, the app. Most of the time, it worked great. There were some definite coverage issues, especially on the back of the ship. Wife set up down on the Boardwalk to film Daughter riding the zip line far above. I was supposed to text her (on the app) when Daughter was next in line, but when the time came, neither I nor she could get the Wifi working to send or receive said text.

We weren’t sure how it would work with only one of us purchasing the internet option, but it’s like on airplanes where you can connect to their wi-fi without getting the internet. So al three of us could access the daily agenda and make reservations and look at our photos. 

Even though the app was more convenient than the paper of yesteryears, I kind missed the daily agendas being slipped under your door in the middle of the night like from a tooth fairy.

My biggest quibble was that, until she’s thirteen, Daughter can’t have her own login for the app. We logged her into her phone as me, which was fine for everything except sending texts, because the text would come from me to me and I wouldn’t get pinged. Seems like getting messages to and from tweens would be a primary purpose of the texting feature. 

One of my biggest quibbles with the app was that, until she’s thirteen, Daughter can’t have her own login for the app, meaning she has to login as me. Feels like getting messages to and from a tween would be one of the primary purposes of the texting feature.

Not that she ever separated from the two of us. Which leads me to:

Child Activities

I remember running around the cruise ships of my youth like we owned the damn place. Me and a group three or four other tweens, who I had never met before and have never seen again, were inseparable from the moment we got on the ship. We even had our own favorite bartender (shocker, I know) who made us “virgin whiskeys,” which were coke with grenadine. We might’ve even opted to stay on the ship for one of the ports in order to hang out.

In contrast, the kids area on this ship was basically a day care center. Basically, you dropped your kids off an isolated spot with “fun” things to do. Some computers and picture books of sea animals… an art room, maybe?  

At least it was separated out by age. The art room and a theater were all ages, but the sequestration rooms (I’ll be nice and not call them prison cells) were designated under 2, pre-K, lower grades, etc. Daughter would’ve gone to the 9-11 room, which is where some of the computers were, but is it really a great idea to take her on a cruise in order to plunk her in front of a screen? Besides, what does one do on a computer that isn’t theirs? Play games that they can’t save progress on? Go on YouTube and continually run into whatever filters they’ve put up? As far as I could tell, there’d always be a crew member babysitting, but there didn’t appear to be any specific events planned.

Furthermore, there was a limit to how many kids could be in any room at a time, so the couple times we checked it out, the 9-11 room was full with a line about ten deep to get in. Daughter peeked at the front of the line, saw it was almost all boys and instead asked if all three of us could go to the art room.

One night, she ate at the buffet and was planning to go to the kids area while Wife and I ate. We gave her the option to check herself in or out, which is only allowed for nine and above (but, again, they can’t text us when they check themselves out). About twenty minutes later, she was back claiming not much was going on, so she just did some art by herself then left. I asked if she talked to anyone or went to the 9-11 room and she said no.

I don’t know how many kids she talked to over the four days, but it could be counted on one hand. Wife reminds me that when we were cruising as kids, the ships housed maybe one-third of the customers the current ones do, so we would regularly run into the same people over and over again. That’s how we made friends.

She may have a point, but I distinctly remember a “Coke-tail” party on the first night where you met some of the other kids. I also remember things planned around the ship, not in a centralized jail. Because then, like now, I’m not exactly a self-starter in social situations, but if you tell me when and where something fun is going to happen, I’ll be there.

One more slight funny: The ship doesn’t have a thirteenth floor. Seems a bit overzealous on the superstition front, unless one of this ship’s ports of call is Camp Crystal Lake, But whatever. 

The children’s area is on the 14th floor which, follow me here, is actually the thirteenth floor. Hey, I think I finally found the day care where all that Satanic worship was going on back when cruises had child activities.

The daily agenda did at least have some teenage activities for 12-17 year olds, so in a few years we might finally be able to pawn our kid off at something more social than an empty art room. And as a bonus, she’ll be able to text us when she’s done.

Pre-Booking

Back in the old days, it was much more difficult to pre-book things. It was still possible, but most experiences, both on the ship and at the various ports, were still available when you got on the ship. 

These days, you’ve damn near got to know your itinerary by t-minus three months. In February, I noticed there were some cupcake decorating classes. Sounds fun, but do you plan that for the day at sea? The first night? How long will it take us to get situated? By the time I discussed with Wife and Daughter, all the cupcake decorating was gone.

Similarly with Mamma Mia, which we booked for midday on the Day at Sea, opposite tons of other stuff. There was a very cool diving show that I didn’t know existed before I got on the boat. Most of them were opposite dinner, which is fine because inevitably there’s a night we hit the buffet instead of formal dining. But how am I supposed to know which night, especially without seeing the menus? 

I still got to see the water show by standing in a walk-up line for an hour. With fifteen minutes to go, they let us take the empty seats of people who had reserved but not shown up. Probably because they booked it back in November.

One of the pre-bookings we did splurge on was the coffee card. For $30, you get fifteen stamps on a card, each one good for a shot of espresso in a drink. So that’s seven double lattes. Bargain!

Except we forgot to follow up on it until our third day. While at the Starbucks on the Promenade for the third time, Wife asked if those coffee drinks were just being comped on her keycard. But no, turns out that it’s a separate card that we need to get at customer service. They can have our Kennedy Space Center tickets for the day we disembark waiting for us in our cabin on day one, but evidently we have to hunt down our free prepaid coffee.

Even worse, the Starbucks on board won’t take the card. It’s only usable at the Cafe. Which serves… Starbucks drinks. We ended up using only half of our stamps.

Meanwhile, the Hibachi restaurant was booked, the sushi making class was booked, the ice skating (yes, they have ice skating) was usually booked. The trivias and Name-That-Tunes were overflowing by a half-hour before their start time.

Maybe it was only like this because it was Spring Break. Maybe under normal conditions the ship isn’t at 110% capacity. But they keep making the ships bigger and bigger, while the theater stays the same size. 

Then again, given my luck with the coffee card and the zipline, had I bothered prebooking stuff on the ship, I probably would’ve picked the shitty option. Oh, you wanted to see the Broadway musical, Mamma Mia? No, this is just three hours of an overly dramatic Italian guy speaking with his hands.

Final Thoughts

I was going to delve into our shore excursions here, but considering the length of this post, I’ll post that one tomorrow. Instead, I’ll give you a couple miscellany.

Our waiter’s name was Boy. It was awkward:

Take my order, Boy!

Boy, could you pour me a coffee refill?

Boy! Rum! Now!

I’m just glad he was Indonesian, because if he was Dominican or Nigerian, I’m sure I would’ve been arrested when re-entering California for committing hate speech. 

His busser, which they call “assistant waiter,” was Jamaican. Thankfully, her name was Eleice. 

My final gripe goes not toward Royal Caribbean, but Elon Musk.

There was supposed to be a SpaceX launch at 5:00 pm the day we embarked. We were still close enough to shore to see the launch pad, so we hung out until 5:30, but saw nothing. Found out the next day that it was delayed until 8:00, when we were at dinner.

Another launch was scheduled at 1:00 the afternoon we returned. We had tickets for the Kennedy Space Center and would’ve been leaving for the airport right around 1:00. This launch was postponed till the following day.

What the fuck, people? 

Boy, get me my space launch! Boy!