Cruisin'

This was my first time. The other three guys had prior experience. Teddy was a retired engineer from the Merchant Marines, so you could say he was the leader, although that’s not what he wanted to be. He wanted to be left alone. Mike had taken several cruise trips, spending most of his time in the casinos while his wife baked on deck. Jack had once sailed to Bermuda with his wife and returned an unhappy man. It was the beginning of the end for them.

For me, it was an adventure. From the moment I walked up the gangway on a late March afternoon in Port Miami, I was transformed. I shed my cocoon and became a social butterfly. At least in my own mind. We checked into our rooms, with Jack and I bunking together. We all met in the lounge at 5 p.m. to share the loudspeaker’s knowledge about safety, fire drills, dinner times, events, and where to find lifejackets.

We didn’t care about any of that, we just wanted to party. Following all this valuable information, the captain officially welcomed us aboard, and we went out on the after deck where a magnificent buffet awaited us with three portable bars where people were standing three-deep. A band played calypso backed up by a setting sun, gentle breezes, and temperatures touching the numbers I wouldn’t see for months when I returned to New England.

Jack and I got separated from the other two pirates, and after the deck party settled in one of the lounges with a band playing soft dance music. The kind that made me wish my wife were here. There were, however, several unattached women and one came to our table and asked if I’d care to dance. Why not? I’m on vacation, it’s a moonlit night on the Caribbean, I was still young enough to have hair to groom and the magic of the drinks made me irresistible. She was a lovely lady from New Jersey, and when we danced near the bandstand where there was more light, I could see she was at least twenty years older than me. Following the dance, I escorted her to her table, and she introduced me to the other woman—her mother. I offered to buy them both a drink which they declined, and I returned to sit with Jack and be questioned.

Near midnight, the crowds on the boat thinned, and Mike found us sitting in deck chairs nearly asleep.

He seemed to be a little anxious. “Have you guys seen, Teddy?”

We both shrugged and said, “We thought he was with you.”

“He was, we went into the casino. I was playing blackjack, and he was standing right behind me. I turned around, and he was gone.”

This concerned us. Three months ago, Teddy’s wife told him she found someone she liked better and walked. I couldn’t understand that. Teddy was one of the nicest guys I knew. We were unsure about what to do and split up to tour the boat and look everywhere for him, meeting again in half an hour back in the lounge. We met and decided to do one more search, not knowing what else we could do. He was depressed, maybe jumped, but the ship had traveled many miles from when he was last seen, and we convinced ourselves that to report this as an emergency wouldn’t help anyone. We also were embarrassed to do so. Finally, we quit, went to our rooms, and did not sleep well. Jack and I were the first ones to the breakfast lounge, and when Mike arrived, he saw the question on our faces, and said, “He didn’t show up in the room.” We stayed quiet through our coffee then went to the buffet and started shoveling food onto our plates.

“Hey, guys.”

We spun around, an English muffin slid off my plate, and Mike said, “Where the hell have you been?”

“Engine room, nice bunch of guys we talked all night.”

After two days of crazy adventures in Nassau, we departed in a gathering storm. Black clouds rolled at us like a buffalo stampede. Before we left the harbor, the announcement about safety, lifejackets, and precautions for seasickness was broadcast repeatedly over the speakers. Rain began falling and sounded like gravel being thrown against the lounge windows. Jack didn’t feel well and went to his bunk. I found a different bar amidships and settled there for a drink. The place was nearly empty, so I spent time chatting with the bartender. A girl at the other end came over and sat, saying she felt better with company and would we mind the interruption. She was pleasant and said her name was Laura. A half-hour later, I left to go take a nap before dinner.

The dining room was nearly empty, which was nice because, it is the last night. The meal was spectacular, and our waiter asked Teddy, Mike, and me if we wanted an extra Baked Alaska dessert. Jack missed a good meal but felt better staying in his bunk. Teddy went back with his buds in the engine room. I went with Mike to watch him play cards and noticed a woman from Argentina at a winning slot machine pulling the lever with a hand that housed an enormous gold ring with a glass box mounted on it containing two loose diamonds that looked to be more than a carat each. She didn’t look well but wouldn’t quit until she vomited all over the machine. I went back to the blackjack table to watch Mike lose for a while. Between hands, he said, “Look at that girl over there.”

I turned and said, “That’s Laura.”

“You know her?” Mike dropped a card on the floor and was DQ’d for that hand.

“I don’t really know her, I met her in the bar this afternoon.” I guess she saw us looking and came over with a drink in her hand.

“Hi, guys.” She looked at me and said, “Who’s your friend?” I introduced Mike and left them chatting to go down to my bunk because I was beginning to feel the effects of the storm.

I tried, but I couldn’t stay there I went back upstairs weaving like a drunkard down the heaving corridors avoiding some messes left by other passengers. This wasn’t a huge boat compared to the floating cities used today, and we were getting tossed in all directions like a child’s bathtub duck. The only thing that helped me cope was walking, and I couldn’t do that outside because the waves were washing over the decks. I went to the grand ballroom circling the perimeter and spotted two people slouching on a couch with a blanket pulled to their chins.

It was Mike and Laura. “Hey guys, can I sit with you?”

A double, “No!”

I went across the ballroom, settled on my own couch, shivering in the cold. It was a dreadful, scary, miserable night, and when the sun finally broke as we pulled into Miami, the temperatures had reached record lows. The crowd gaiety of our first night was gone for good. Ashen faced people huddled together and complained. My dance partner approached with the daylight adding a few more years and asked if her mom could take our picture together. I said, “Sure.”

She asked if I could put my arm around her shoulder. I did and smiled, giving her evidence she needed to back up her stories of a wild shipboard romance.

We crowded into Mike’s loaded van where I sat on an upturned plastic bucket while he drove to Ft. Lauderdale and left Jack and me at Marina Bay where we stayed two more nights in a floating motel houseboat while Mike and Teddy headed back to Connecticut. We shook hands on parting, and talked about next year, not knowing this would be our last time together.

Edna was happy to see Mike, and as they sat together having breakfast, the doorbell rang. “Sit, I’ll get it.” Edna got up, clutching her robe around her. She returned to the kitchen with a large bouquet of mixed flowers and a card that read, “Thanks, for a great evening, I hope to see you soon, Laura.” There were several x’s beside the signature.

Several months after Jack returned home, he decided to call it quits with Fran and flew to Mexico for a quickie divorce.

Teddy found a new woman. They happily married and moved to the other coast. He deserved good things.

A few years after that, Mike killed himself. Jack moved to Florida and even with all his wealth, never found happiness. His niece recently told me his dementia had reached a level where he no longer knew anyone from his past.

My wife and I keep our humdrum lives together more than four decades since that record cold wave in Miami.