Ship Notes and Other
Musings
Noel Laflin
December 2021
Ship Notes
Friday, December
17th
It's a little after high noon, and somewhere to the west of us is Cuba, although it can't be seen at present.
I know all of this as the captain just finished his daily announcement summation via loudspeaker.
We've traveled over two thousand nautical miles, he informs us, during this Caribbean adventure, and still have far to go before reaching our final destination in Florida, board a plane and fly another three thousand miles to get home. That's nearly nine thousand miles roundtrip altogether, via air and sea. In contrast, on a typical day at home, I may drive a total of eight miles to Irvine Park and back. So, this is a change in pace, not to mention transportation and scenery - but a fine change at that.
All of this flows through my simple mind as I also consider the fact that this doesn't seem like the week before Christmas as the weather is warm and tropical. I am only reminded of the upcoming event when we pass brightly decorated Christmas trees scattered throughout the many decks inside, as well as the giant gingerbread village that appeared magically at the base of the grand staircase a few days ago. Sea elves were busy in the gallery as we cruised the first week apparently.
But outside here on this comfortable lounge chair, I only feel the warm sultry wind ruffling the pages of my well-worn book, (it's one by Tolkien, in case you are wondering) and listen to the constant soothing sound of the deep blue Caribbean ocean rolling by. But unlike a Stevenson nautical adventure (another fine read while at sea), there's not a single pirate ship in sight.
And according to the captain, the Island of Cuba is out there somewhere too. But like Long John Silver's mysterious island, it also remains elusive.
The thought of Cuba almost makes me wish I had a cigar, or, even better, an ill-gotten barnacle-encrusted chest filled with ancient Spanish gold doubloons.
I suppose I'll just settle for a run and Coke instead, as that is more easily had.
The birds and squirrels don't come by and serve those in Irvine Park, let alone cigars and pieces of eight - but I wish they did.
I fully intend to talk to them about it when we get home.
Ship Notes
Saturday, December
18th
The magician and his pretty assistant are in a corner buffet booth chowing down on a late morning breakfast. I know her, the magician's assistant, despite the lack of glittering skirts, etc., here in casual land at this hour, as she wears no mask in order to eat. It takes a moment to initially recognize, however, the man we had seen on stage making magic just the night before; masked he is just now, dressed in common attire (minus black frock and ruffles), his plate magically levitating with food. But once seated and unveiled, the full face reveal is obvious. It's the magic man.
The conjuring pair are thick as thieves, speaking in quiet Spanish, hands and arms gesturing, a table knife being repeatedly thrust between extended, parted fingers - a tweaking of an act in the making, no doubt. All the while the magician's plate of food is performing its own disappearing act.
But, even though I may not be the world's quickest study, I can still figure out that vanishing culinary trick easily enough as I have been performing that very same eating prestige all my life.
Ship Departed
Sunday, December 19
We spent our last day in Florida touring Tampa University, that wonderful old hotel (all eleven million bricks of it, according to a former instructor turned tour guide). The invasion of Cuba, which would lead to the Spanish American war was hatched by old men in rocking chairs on this very walkway, or so our retired philosophy instructor also told us.
JFK spent four days in town, including having lunch in the stately old structure, before flying off to Dallas in November, 1963. The town went crazy in celebration while the young president was here. There's even a famous statue of the man on campus, where he addressed adoring crowds. The statue now looks out onto Kennedy Blvd.
Hours later we flew from Tampa to Dallas, as we had a stopover there. Thoughts of yesteryear weighed mightily on my mind somehow.
Tampa Airport
December 19, 2021
We're in the Tampa airport waiting for our flight home, and I can't help but notice that there are a fair number of children boarding planes with their folks.
Then it dawns on me that it's the week before Christmas and folks, both young and old, are traveling every which way across the country to be with family. I hope Santa finds all of these youngsters, wherever they land.
When I was ten, our family traveled by train one Christmas in order to spend the holidays with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins in Minnesota.
It was a fine adventure for my siblings and me. And although there was no global health pandemic looming over our heads at the time, it had only been a month since President Kennedy was gunned down, so I do remember a different type of trepidation and sadness that initially foreshadowed that trip.
But once we were underway and eventually reunited with kinfolk, things got better.
And even Santa found his way to St. Paul that particular Christmas. So, there was that considerable consolation too, of course.
