All Aboard!

Ahoy family and friends,

The second day of the cruise finds Mom on the couch napping and me on the balcony looking at what I think is Mount Desert Island, reading the New York Times and catching up on email. What is that expression - the more things change, the more they stay the same?

We think we are at anchor in Frenchmen's Bay where naturally we feel right at home, wondering only where is the gorton for breakfast? Perhaps they will surprise us with pork pie at dinner.

Yesterday around noon we were dropped off at the curb of the ship terminal in Boston where thousands of other people seemed to share similar intentions. Thanks to Byard's help, I didn't lose or forget Mom at the curb (a real possibility) while I dealt with getting our luggage to anyone who looked remotely appropriate. Byard also spotted an empty wheelchair just waiting for us at the curb, which arguably could be interpreted as a sign of divine intervention, a tangible payoff for all those prayers and the wear and tear on Mom's knees. Ah, so the righteous do get their just rewards.

Most of our fellow passengers were assigned to endless cattle corrals but with Mom in her wheelchair, we said goodbye and thanks to our able escort Byard and breezed by the cattle and the trolleys piled with mountains of luggage to take the elevator up to the terminal. The police officer who checked our passports spotted the absence of Mom's signature in her passport and cheerily recommended that she sign it next time she had a pen. 

Later, when I saw the pile of discarded water bottles at the security line, I panicked and tried to get Mom to down her entire water bottle. She took a single sip and handed the bottle back to me as though her work was done. Realizing that having Mom chug an entire water bottle was not the best strategy, I instead asked the guy working the security conveyor belt where to empty our metal water bottles. The guard took one look at Mom in the wheelchair and told us to tuck our full bottles into our carry-on luggage and promised not to notice them. (Cruise ship security, at least in Boston, is still dispatched by private security firms, not the more formidable TSA.) The moral of the story: those with nefarious intentions might consider the opportunities afforded with the 90-plus set.

Despite the pragmatic flexibility of the security personnel, the wait at security was long, and Mom said with great surprise, "This is just like at the airports!" Truth be told, it was way worse than the airports. The comedian who worked the "Welcome on Board" show that we saw last night joked that you could have just gotten off in Philadelphia and walked to the ship by the time you got through security. 

To get to the boat I wheeled Mom down a ramp, quite sure that a single slip on my part would take out many of our fellow passengers as Mom would careen into the back of their knees. I had images of once-happy cruise goers heaped in piles around us. Fortunately those many hours at the gym paid off; I held steady against the not insignificant pull of the wheelchair and the at-risk passengers in front of us were none the wiser.

The more-than-normal chaos that characterized boarding was transformed into elevator hell when we finally got onboard. A crew member, who I begged to let me onboard an elevator because I had just sent my 91-year old mother to another floor by herself with only a cane and no wheelchair, explained that the ship had just arrived from Europe to begin its New England-Nova Scotia cruise season, so everything was crazy. I'm not sure why that creates chaos but getting onto the ship elevators was a significant trial, testing our patience and making us not like our fellow passengers who would GET ON BEFORE US EVEN THOUGH WE WERE ALREADY WAITING WHEN THEY ARRIVED AT THE ELEVATORS. There is a special place in hell for people like that. (In defense of that particular couple, for whom we felt something akin to hatred fill our otherwise loving hearts, there were a lot of people waiting for an elevator, and they may not have noticed THAT WE HAD BEEN WAITING FOREVER.)

We had lunch onboard while waiting for our stateroom to open. Mom didn't like the potato curry (too hot) but enjoyed the tilapia with teriyaki sauce and the strawberry mousse. She also had key lime mousse, but you didn't hear it from me that she started the cruise with TWO DESSERTS. (Since she is insisting on reading this, I am compelled to disclose that I'm the one who selected and provided her desserts.) Dinner found more dessert in front of her - low-sugar strawberry charlotte, but I will deny any accusations that I outed her on the dessert front. 

Virtue overcame me and I eschewed dessert at lunch but then more than made up for it with a Bailey's Irish Cream creme brûlée with caramelized bananas at dinner. In case any of you harbor Mom's penchant for vicarious food experiences - she had mojo pork for dinner and I had the Atlantic salmon with horseradish butter sauce (or something like that). Her starter was a rather boring Caesar salad (although the croutons were reportedly excellent) while I wisely took the waitress's advice and ordered the smoked fish roulettes with crostini, which were noteworthy.

My time flies - it is time to eat again! Gotta run.