Dean, Drinks, and a Dingo ate my Baby...

Well folks, here it is, the double whammy! My first blog in almost two weeks AND an eyewitness to what it’s like to be miles and miles away from a hurricane. First though, a couple of things to get you caught up with my last couple of weeks. I ate a lot of slop on rice, had more than a few cocktails in the crew bar, worked an ass load of shows, and had a few laughs. There you have it folks, 2 weeks on a ship abridged!

Really though, the highlight of the last few weeks was my trip to Costa Maya. It was my first official “day off” without any training, maintenance, or heavy sleeping to keep me on the boat. I debarked (eh? eh? pretty snazzy ship talk,huh?) with 3 people from my department (two techs and a piano player) and headed directly to the beach. We had to take a 15 minute “zebra bus” (which essentially is a glorified 1980’s troop carrier painted like a zebra) over 3000 or so dirt roads, but the relative discomfort soon became well worth it. The bus dropped us off and we of course had to run the usual gauntlet of natives pushing their wares (“Hola Senor, you want Cuban cigars?”, “Hey big muchacho, you looking for Mexican ladies?”, “Buddy, come buy some useless crap at or above tourist prices”). We were determined to find ourselves a new crew hangout, as some plunker had given the cones a lead on our old place. In recent weeks it has digressed into a Mecca for middle aged guests who want to feel “hip” by buddying up with the staff.

We foraged through the cheap massages, the authentic plastic Mayan sculptures, and the freshly grilled carne de burro with steadfast resolve. About a half a mile down the thoroughfare we came across a place without the usual 7 or 8 people begging us for our business. I have sworn an oath not to divulge the name of this place, but needless to say, we had completed our mission. We had an outstanding time and delicious Mexican beer and food was had by all. Our waiter (who for some reason thought we would believe his name was “Sam”) was absolutely amazing. The man would (without hesitation) sprint towards us every time we looked his way and easily gave the word attentive a run for its money. I won’t bore you with inside jokes, stories sinking boats, or revues of Mexican ladies, but I will post a few select pictures so you can get the general Idea.

I should also let you know that the first “four pack” of pictures is of Belize. This port is a bonafide shithole, but (for some ungodly reason) it does have a phenomenal Chinese restaurant and makes a decent beer (Belican).

Now on to what everyone wants to know (and keeps calling me about), Hurricane Dean. I think it is important to point out that we will miss the storm by ages, but we are definitely feeling its affects. First off, to say the swells are pronounced would be an understatement. To give you an idea, I have ratchet strapped my TV to the mini-fridge and everybody is walking around the ship like the village drunk from an 18^th century Irish novel (I know that was a blatant rip off from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, but it works so fucking well). I was out on deck 4 earlier, and I was easily looking at 10 to 15 foot swells. Luckily as watercraft go we are bigger than most, so the hull absorbs most of the impact (which is loads of fun, especially when you hear 3 or four loud crashes ever few minutes). We had to switch shows on short notice because of the rough seas, and from most reports, tomorrow will be worse (we are heading towards St.Thomas and the area dean has already skated through). I am not feeling seasick, but the word around the ship is, the cones are not faring as well.

It looks like Cozumel is going to get clobbered (again) so there is a good chance I may never see it again. There are contingency plans so if a port gets wiped off the map, we just go someplace else. That is really all I have on that subject. I will definitely keep you updated on our situation, but unfortunately I don’t think I’m going to have any harrowing tales from the angry sea. I will try to get better about posting; I just sort of fell into a routine of not doing it and got all sorts of lazy. Sorry again, and I hope to hear from you all soon!

Best wishes,

Seabag

Lazy, lazy, lazy

Lord knows I have really neglected this thing for the past few weeks, but good news; I am halfway through a megapost in Word and have about 7 thousand pics that will go along with it. I have to make the donuts right about now, but I should have everything posted by tomorrow. Thanks for reading!
Seabag

all apologies

I'm so sorry for having nothing for you, gimme one more day...I have so much to say.....heh

Seabag

Also, a certain Mr.Sean Cooney better should have better passed the Bar, god knows I will at some point soon need a good legal team (I can only hope Toth is still available for a few Doobie Bros. tunes and not so much more).

Extra garbage

I couldn’t sleep at all last night so I wandered up to deck four forward around 6am to watch the ship come into port. I wasn’t originally going to share this with anyone, as I really felt it was too…um, I don’t know… I guess I felt this was a really personal moment I wanted to keep in my own archives. After thinking about it, I figured I would let it go for what it was worth. The experience itself was really worth sharing, and even if it let you all into my badly written prose ….. I don’t know, I guess all you really need to know is this really wasn’t mean for public consumption so it is what it is, a very bored seafarer with too many big words floating around his head…

The coast of Costa Maya became visible as a string of tiny uniformed blue sparkling lights and rapid flashes from what seemed to be a lighthouse. The sea was glass, the morning air cool and docile, and the moon illuminated the deck to the point that I could see every weld and inspect every rivet. 9 miles from shore, a small man hobbled to the bow with a quiet reverence. He dutifully hoisted the red, white, and blue from the ship’s mast (the red, white, and blue in this case was the flag of Panama) and was gone as fast as he appeared. 7 miles from shore, the ship cut her engines, coasted to a stop, and bobbed like a cork in the water. We drifted in the night; still, for what seemed like ages. This was a stillness I am not sure I have ever experienced (especially not in the few short weeks I have been aboard). It was total silence; no waves, no engine, no clankity clank of the anchor. The moment was utterly breathtaking in its simplicity.

A tiny skiff appeared in the distance and struggled against the current to meet us. She awkwardly pulled beside us and (in a daring craft to craft maneuver) delivered the pilot who would steer our giant hunk of steel into port. Another eternity passed, which in fact was only the time it took the pilot to embark the vessel and make his way up to the bridge. As the pilot took control, the vessel lunged ahead, full thrusters.

The sun began to rise in the distance and the once tiny blue sparkles began to show themselves as lamp post and other lights began to dot the horizon. I could make out cars traveling in the distance and the beam from the lighthouse danced across the bow every 25 seconds or so. With each passing minute the sun illuminated more, turning the grey sea into a deep menacing blue and then into a vibrant aqua marine. The lush jungle dripped with life. Green with contrasting black, grey and brown; textures you could never imagine when you come from a deciduous forest region.

White beaches provided the juxtaposition needed between sea and land. Thatch huts rose from the shore (and even though in the end they proved to be tourist trap bars) and completed the mental painting that will forever haunt my mind. This was paradise the truest sense of the word.

SPOONS BITCHES!

(more about the Canadian game of spoons later)

Keep it on the reel,

Seabag

A quick update at 4am

I just went up to deck 4 forward to smoke a cigarette. The moon was the back light to the fluffiest and juiciest clouds I have ever seen. The starts twinkled in between each cloud and I was transported into a Magrite painting (without the men descending with umbrellas). The Caribbean Sea glistened in the starlight and an easy starboard breeze cooled my face. This is the reason you spend eight months at sea. Eat your hear our, lake Erie….

Seabag

Two for the price of one

The following are two separate posts written on two separate days. Sorry for the mess, but sometimes these things happen.

(Sunday, 5pm)-

So I get the feeling I am boring the living hell out of some of you. Luckily, I can write that off as my brilliant writing style and my uncanny ability to convey my personal feelings to the reader. There are only so many hours in a day, and trust me, the days at sea are chock full of repetition and a lusting for change.

Last night we had what we call at sea a full on “Brightstar Alert”, which (for all intents and purposes) is code for a very serious medical emergency. By design, there are 2 fully licensed American doctors on board as well as 5 very well trained full time LPN’s. There are a lot of considerations when it comes to the guests’ health, and unless something catastrophic happens, we sail on to the next port.

We did not sail on. One of our guests had a full on stroke and the Captain had no choice but turn tail and head towards the port of Miami. What struck me most about the whole ordeal was the utter indifference on the part of the crew (and I was one of them). A human being had a life threatening (and at the very least, life altering) event, and the crew spent the evening bitching about the fact t we would miss the port of Cozumel the next day. The lot of the entertainment department spent the evening on deck 4 forward smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. I again, was one of them. There is something about living in such close quarters for so many long hours that fosters a very strong “us against them mentality”. You almost get to the point where you feel the people you are serving are almost robots and as long as you stick to the company formula, you have done your part. You have to keep in mind that a lot of these people have been on this ship for over 7 months with little or no days off.

It turns out the guest had a full on stroke which is why we had to make quick tracks back to mainland. He and his luggage were unceremoniously debarked in Miami (during out intro show), no one was really the wiser, and we set sail soon after.

Thanks a lot for smelling almonds (or burnt toast, I forget) Mr. Stoke, way to ruin it for everyone! I had a pretty relaxed week ahead me and to make a long story short we had to reschedule all of the ports of call. I guess it is what it is, it’s not like I don’t have 7.5 more months of this bullshit to deal with, heh heh.

Tuesday, 3:10am

Although I frittered away the entire day in bed, today happened to be a pretty decent day. I slept through the crew tender (Belize does not have a dockable port, so we have to anchor 9 miles out and rely on boats called “tenders” to bring us ashore) so I really didn’t feel any need to get my lazy ass out of bed. In retrospect, I probably needed a good night’s sleep anyway, especially after hearing the anchor going in at 6am (this is much more the ordeal than previously stated, as the anchor room is on the other side of my wall now since I moved). I got up mid afternoon and sunned myself on the forward crew deck. I then went downstairs and had a surprisingly edible meal in the crew mess.

It made it through 2 magic shows without fucking up even one cue, and even though the magician ridiculed Buffalo on stage, I did not crush his head like a watermelon. I did mention after the show that his production singer and fly tech were from the Queen City, and if he wanted to play that game again, I could easily make his skull into a lovely looking seafood salad. I do hope he knows I was joking (or was I?).

After load out (and 30 minutes looking for a stray bingo ball), I made my way to the crew bar. The usual mix of awful European techno and “Latin beats” abounded, but I was in much too good of a mood to care. Luckily they did not play the latest “black eyed peas” album over and over as per usual. I put back a few Strong bows (yes folks, they do indeed have Strong bow) and played some darts with the bass player in the show band ( I bought me a set in Canaveral last Saturday, and I think I have found the hobby I was in desperate need of.) After winning two and losing two, I ended up where I started the day, deck 4 forward.

The stars were absolutely astounding and I again had that feeling of being where I wanted to be. I had a long conversation with the sound tech about the entertainment business (26 years old and she doesn’t think she is a stagehand, and thinks the long hours are bullshit, heh heh heh….welcome to technical theater, kiddo) . I tried to impart any wisdom I had, listened to the young girl from NYC go on and on, and finally had to get out of dodge. As far as days go, I’ll take it.

I have the day off tomorrow so I am getting off this wretched ship and seeing Costa Maya, Mexico. I do promise the lot of you pictures, and I hope all of you are doing well.

Keep it on the reel,

Seabag

Ooops

So it occurred to me that you fine people may not want your address posted on the internet. Sometimes I can be less than bright. So, why don't yall just go ahead and email me your post addresses and I can go from there! I'll be posting again tonight, so look for more hilarious hijinks and zany antics from the deep blue.

Seabag

P.S.
Email is nxlvlrs@gmail.com

CODE RED, CODE RED!!!

Now that I have your attention, I request that each and every one of you send a comment with your complete mailing address (especially Whitney, as I do feel as I have unfairly neglected her in the past few weeks!) ! Not only does Seabag request it, he demands it!!! I went and bought me 10 bucks worth of post card stamps and another 20 in postcards and then realized that in my haste to pack, I left EVERYONE'S address at home. Please send me these post haste so I have something to do in Port Canaveral! Also, for those of you who have my phone number, please do not hesitate to call me on Saturdays. I would love to talk to some people who don't spend all their time at sea. I do miss the lot of you. Anytime between 7am and 9pm is cool (but please don't call between the hours of 4 and 5 as boat drill is for some reason rather important.

Mama said there’d be days like this.

Today was officially my worst day at sea. Right out of the gate I was a 4 whole minutes late for work. I think my “supervisor” was just trying to flex what muscles she has and gave me one of the two verbal warnings before I get written up. The pisser of the whole ordeal is, we were doing the load in we were supposed to do last night, but she was too tired (after her day off) to do. Needless to say, the day was not starting off well.

After loading in the magic show (which in 8 short hours would become my Pandora’s box), I managed to get off the ship and get to the post office. As I stood in line, some cock sure American woman (keep in mind that St. Thomas is a United States Territory) whom I am sure was from the Midwest (the corn hole of America), started calling the nice woman behind the counter (A federal employee) a no good lazy foreign bitch (oh yes she did). The beast proceeded to tell her “youngins” that, “the reason there are mirrors in this place is so the fat lazy woman behind the desk doesn’t have to move her head to see anything”. Even in America, people hate Americans….go figure.

After I posted my letter, I made my way to the cruise center and had some lunch. The Jamaican Jerk sandwich may have well have been the highlight of my day (which is to say, it didn’t kick me in the nuts and laugh). I made a few phone calls, talked to a few good friends, and took a few snapshots before heading back to the ship. Two whole hours off the ship, fantastic!

Back on the ship (and after being violated by another Indian security guard; boy howdy how they take the “frisk” too far) my only goal was to view the tape of the evenings show a few times before I had to run it. I knew I had a tech rehearsal at 5, but I wanted to blow everyone away with my grasp of the show. You will have to keep in mind that this is the show we were supposed to run twice last week, but the magician missed his flight. It is also IMPORTANT to know that the standard training period for a first contract automation technician is four weeks and my trainer left the boat last Saturday (dun dun DUN). Anyway, I put the tape in the player, and guess what? The motherfucking (sorry you of PG tastes, I have no other way of phrasing it...) tape would not play correctly. After about an hour of troubleshooting I realized I needed to fuck with the tracking to get the thing watchable. The cherry on this sundae was that I didn’t have a remote control to do it with, and oh happy day, it was a port day. By some miracle I found ONE person with a remote and was able to fix the problem. After watching the video twice (by the way, the speakers on the TV did not work, so I had to use the headphone jack which only worked when I taped the connector down) I realized the tape they had given me was from 2004.

That did NOT bode well…

The tech rehearsal started and I managed to get though 4 cues before shit started to go pretty fucking haywire. The cue sheet I had was absolutely awful (unless you have seen the show run live more than once and more than twice on a 3 year old video) and I begin to crash and burn. Somehow we got through the rehearsal. We had to cut the cast for dinner so I got another 15 minutes to work through any issues. At that point I was considering taking my chances with the briny deep blue and the always eager hammerhead sharks. Time quickly ran out and the cast was cut for dinner. It was at that moment Seabag was cut loose to fend for himself, armed with a useless video, raw courage, and a cup of rotgut coffee.

Tick tick tick… SHOWTIME! Things are starting to come together and we were 25 minute into the show without a fuck up (a technical term). Then it happened, I brought down a line set on a 12 year old Korean girl in a wheelchair and crushed her to death…. No, not really you bastards, have a little more faith in me than that……but I did manage to miss a pretty major cue (thank you piss poor cue sheets) and almost screw up the entire act. I did recover , the show did go on, but it was the punch in the face I was hoping to avoid. *Show over, nobody dead* Two hours later (with another piss poor comic who decided to go 45 minutes past his time slot) I finally hung up the eye patch.

I went down to the crew bar and the new bartender served everyone but me for the first 20 minutes (I need to grow me some tits, or at the very least, moobs). I finally got my beer 15 minutes before last call. I got back to the table and realized, silly rabbit, the fucker isn’t twist off and I the bartender didn’t open it. Lucky for me I know the open the bottle with the lighter trick. That was about it for me, and even know it was extremely trivial, it was the sign that no matter what I did, the planets were dead set against me today. I very carefully drank my beer, admired the Romanian girls ( am I beginning to narrow down where the hottest girls are from….Romania V. Croatia; only time will decide), and headed back to my cabin. I was greeted by my roommate who was good enough to tell me I have 6 hours of training tomorrow (thanks for the heads up, “supervisor”) and a monthly boat drill at 6am. When it rains it pours.

The saving grace of the day was the well placed words of a few good crewmates (all with their own tales to tell about the hard times that come with living and working on a ship). Each of them reminded me of this…the day was over, I got through it, and another sun will be coming over the sea. I will leave you with that little bit of hope which will hopefully get you through your next trying day.

Until then, keep it on the reel,

Seabag

P.S.

For you of the technical mindset, know that the aforementioned show is one hour long and has 67 movements, no small potatoes! In retrospect, fucking up only one cue in a show that has the average of one plus cues per minute ( these are in some cases 1 ton pieces of scenery) and not killing anyone aint too shabby. Silver lining, bitches!

P.P.S

I’ll have the St. Thomas pictures for you tomorrow, ya jackals.

EXODUS!!!

I am sorry for the lapse in my entries as of late. I have been trying to conserve my internet time until I get paid. I was grossly misinformed in terms of the Wi-Fi, it turns out it costs roughly 10 cents per minute and you have to buy $20 internet cards and ration the time as you see fit. I have learned quickly to do all my writing in word and just copy and paste.

Last night a group of us went to the supper club, which is the high falootin restaurant on board. It was Norm’s (the guy I am replacing) last night onboard so we all got dressed to the nines and did it up proper. The supper club is actually a really good deal considering what you get for the money. For $30 you get a 6 course meal, complete with the best of the best Eastern European girls at your beckon call. I started the meal off with the French onion soup, then had the spinach salad, some mushroom cappuccino (which really just tasted like ass), and various breads and such. For the main course, I had the two pound porterhouse with creamed spinach and wasabi mashed potatoes. I actually managed to get the entire steak down; mostly on principal (the Technical Director told me if I finish the thing she would give me 10 bucks….I still haven’t seen the money). For dessert I had some citrus cheesecake with raspberry ravioli and garnished with loads of odd looking sugary objects. Only in international waters can you get away with serving something so decadent.

Even though I had to put my suit on and dole out my last $30, it was well worth not having to eat the low protein gruel they serve you in the mess. It was also nice to be able to see Norm off with some style. The entire crew is awful fond of him, and I wish him all the best.

This morning was moving day for me, which was quite the fiasco. I know I use this analogy a lot, but the Benny Hill theme song would have been very appropriate for this endeavor. Instead of the tech cabin (Norm’s old room), I got moved into a musician’s cabin (the trombone player from Philly), his roommate moved down the hall into another cabin, that person’s roommate got bumped down to the cabin I was supposed to get, and so on and so forth. Plus, there were at least 4 other cabin changes going on within the department and the MSA office (crew administration) gave everyone the wrong keys. It also doesn’t help that the corridor is as narrow as a bathroom stall (and I’m not talking handicapped, folks) and it all had to be done at 9:30am sharp. Needless to say we had quite the mess on deck 3 forward.

Other than the great crew relocation project, today was pretty damn dull. I did not get off the ship as it was oppressively hot and humid and I am flat broke. I spent the day getting my room in order and sleeping. I did get some mail today, which was nice (thanks, Heather). Getting mail on the “Fun Ship” is almost identical to getting mail at camp. The cruise director reads through envelopes and you get to walk to the front of the staff meeting and see the envy on everyone’s face. How sweet it is!

Well folks, this is my first week running everything solo. I feel much like how maverick must have felt when he lost goose (gratuitous “Top Gun” references never hurt anybody). Wish me luck, and I should have more for you very soon (including some pictures from all the places I will actually see this week). As always, keep it on the reel and have a swell weekend.

Seabag.

UnBELIZEable

I woke up this morning at 5:45, dead sure we had run aground. The entire ship listed very hard to starboard, so much so that the television shifted on the desk. Keep in mind that it is pitch black in the cabin and I have just been woken out of a very heavy sleep. Soon after, I heard the unmistakable sound of metal on metal. CRASH, BANG SHIMMY SHIMMY, CRASH BANG SHIMMY SHIMMY (and again 2,3,4 and crash, and bang, and shimmy two times, and cha cha, and cha cha now list 6,7,8!). I sat straight up in my bunk, hit my head on the ceiling (of course), and was seconds away from running down the hall with my life jacket screaming bloody murder. I did recover in time to realize it was only the anchor going in. I found out later that the reason for the dramatic list is, when we go into Belize, the channel is so narrow and ziggity zaggity that we have to turn on a dime to make it. I also found out that in some points in the channel we clear the bottom by 2 meters, how very reassuring! After a few deep breathes and positive thinking (“I am not on my way to a watery grave, I am NOT on my way to a watery grave”) I managed to get back to sleep. I woke up at what I thought was 11am which was not so much the case. My cell phone had just readjusted itself sometime in the night to local time (it was actually 1pm). Needless to say, I missed lunch and was pretty damn pissed about that.

The Illusionist isn’t performing tonight because of some issues with his flight. This is a pisser because I won’t have a chance to run through the show until next week (without the safety blanket of having somebody in the perch to help me through it). Such is life, you win some, you lose some, and in some cases you screw up and reveal time tested illusionist secrets.

I am smack dab in the middle of the dullest 3 hours of my life. I can rule out going to shore as the last tender left at 3. My roommate is taking a nap so I can’t watch TV. I am low on cash so I have to conserve my internet use and all crew messes, lounges, etc… are closed during port. I even tried to do laundry to ease the boredom but apparently today is Filipino wash day. Note to self, Tuesdays are prime pickings for Filipino brides…

I’m off to smoke cheap cigarettes and stare off on the coast of Central America, keep it on the mates,

Seabag

Mexican Parking

Do yourself a favour and check out the pics below very carefuly. There is a bloody MOTOR SCOOTER in the BACK SEAT of a fucking neon green Volkswagen "Thing". That just about sums up the Mexican view on vehicle and traffic laws. I also forgot to mention that every 12 yards there is a shady dude trying to rent you a scooter. No license, no problem. Never ridden a scooter? Es mas "easy" amigo.... Mexicans also drive like they are fleeing the zombie apocolypse. They go fast, they stop for nothing, and they wouldn't think twice about mowing down your tourist ass...

Ah Cozumel, the Myrtle Beach of Mexico.

Cozumel is exactly what you think of when you think of Mexico (minus the dirt roads and mounted banditos). There are loads of touristy t-shirt, jewelry, and assorted knick knack shops, each with a toothless man shouting at you to buy something (“amigo, come for shirt!”, “Cuban cigars, one dollar!”, so on and so forth). I went with a group of my ship mates to have genuine Mexican lunch in an out of the way restaurant. Holy good Batman, I don’t think I can ever eat Americanized Mexican food EVER again. When we were finished eating, the owner brought out the tequila and we had a nip of the good stuff before we headed into the sun. After lunch we all went and played miniature golf. The course was on top of a hill about 5 blocks from the ocean and had a lovely view of the city. It might interest you to know that Mexican mini golf is leagues ahead of the States. First off, they give you a walkie talkie so you can order drinks at will. You have the choice of tequila, beer, sangria, or water and a little Mexican guy magically appears shortly thereafter. About halfway through the game the same guy comes out with a tray with cold, wet towels. The course is the picture of lush. Banana trees, palm trees, and exotic plants abound. Very large iguanas sun themselves on the greens and tropical birds flutter overhead. Viva la Mexico (and their fantastic mini golf)! The only thing that sucked was how hot and muggy it was, but hey, it’s July in Mexico, it’s gon be hot (yes Mom and Dad, I did wear my sunscreen).

Around 6pm we got back on the ship and all went directly to the showers. I went down to the staff mess, had some goofy sounding (and looking I might add) curry stew, and bought me a $19.00 carton of Marlboros in the gift shop. Tonight I am just going to take er easy, watch the tube, and get some decent sleep. Hope all is well on your end, and as always, keep it on the reel!

Seabag

P.S.

Hope you dig the pics, I know there are more than usual, but there is a lot to see when you actually get on land…

Eh, no real subject....

Things I am sure I have forgotten to mention:

1: There is absolutely NO natural light in your cabin. The watch dial could read 9:00am, 5:00pm, or damn well 4:00 am, and it is still as dark or darker than when your mamma popped your crying ass out of the womb. This leads to frequent grabbing of your cell phone (and or watch) in terror, hoping you have not slept through anything important.

2: Whether rough or calm seas, the boat always moves. Sea legs are no joke! My first time off the ship, I looked like a salsa dancer who lost his sense of rhythm.

3: Days at sea are dull, more so than watching the Buffalo Bills play football. (this of course is a feeble attempt to get the Bills fans out there to comment on my blog….)

4: With1500 crew onboard, it is impossible to get laundry done.

5: Plain chicken breasts are a celebratable affair in the crew mess. Most days you eat food from India, the Philippines, or some other odd land. Your best bet is to slather anything indistinguishable in hot sauce and hope you don’t piss out your asshole an hour later.

5: Pop is soda, chips are fries, crisps are potato chips, and the fruit punch dispenser never fucking works!

6: Water is your best friend, drink much of it and drink it often.

7: Coffee on ship is made from bilge water or perhaps spare diesel fuel.

8: Mornings you miss home and hate communal living, afternoons you get over it, evenings you really dig ship life, and nights make you curse the day you ever lived the land life.

09: Guests are called “cones” by the crew. There are two different explanations for this. Reason number one is, they are like road cones, you dodge them at all costs. The second is that guests always come off like the SNL “Cone heads” skit. I think both rationales apply.

10: Eastern European girls are HOT.

Anyway, I will be in Cozumel, Mexico tomorrow. I am actually getting my first real port time, so I will definitely have pics and a post for you. Keep it on the reel, kids.

Love,

Seabag

P.S.

You haven’t seen shit until you have seen an electrical storm over the Atlantic at 4 in the morning.

The Gulf of Mexico is so bloody calm that it legitimately freaks you out. I shit you not; today it was smoother than I have EVER seen Lake Erie.

Guidos and such

Not so much to report. As much as I feel like I am neglecting my sworn duty to produce these posts, I also think the fact that they are becoming less and less frequent is rather a good sign that I am beginning to catch my stride and fit in with my seasoned “shippies”. It’s a bizarre feeling to walk into such a tight knit group of people and be almost “close” with them after only a week. We hear the term “brotherhood” batted back and forth these days like old ping pong balls, but I think it’s fair to say that when you spend every waking (and some not so waking) hour with people, you really have no choice but to bond or be a loner. Thankfully, I have chosen the beforehand proposition. On a ship, people generally gravitate to each other much like freshmen do in high school. The so forths hang out with the so forths and the bingo bangos hang out with the bingo bangos. The difference is, while there is the department you work in, you also have the nationality aspect to sort out. Add regional affiliations (Yankees, Southerners, Russians, Ukrainians, West Bumfucks and East Bumfucks) and you have an extremely interesting dynamic going on. Again, think high school, only this time the jocks are Italians, and the Northern Italians are the baseball team and the Southern Italians are the Basketball team. There are almost 1500 crew members aboard, and maybe 100 of them are from English speaking countries. You want to talk about melting pot, and I’ll show you the bloody rainbow coalition. Incessant rambling aside, I have become pretty close with the guy I am replacing (which sucks because he’s gone in a week) and the trombone player in the show band. Both are from major northern working class cities and both of them hold union cards. Birds of a feather….. anyhow, I had a very long post planned updating everyone on the upcoming week and such, and a well thought out conclusion to the aforementioned rambling, but to tell you the truth, I am really tired. I’ll be sure to pick up where I left out tomorrow but for now, I just lack the ambition. To tell you the truth, I'm just trying to buy time until I can lull you back into happy readership with glossy images and more pictures of my tiny, tiny bathroom. Thanks for reading, and as always, keep it on the reel!

Seabag

st. Maarten

Not much time here, but I have some more pics of my journey. I don't want to stress this too much, but I really do enjoy your comments, and even though I have only been gone a couple of days, they do help me stay grounded. Please respond as often as you can, I think it would help me keep what sanity I have left...heh heh. Anyway, with that out of the way, I did not have the chance to get off the boat today, so I did do you the service of adding a "how does he live" section to my usual photos. Check out my luxurious accomodations and wish you had a bathroom with shower the size of your closet! Cheers guys, the boat is rocking back and forth pretty hard, and I probably should get ready to sleep anyway. The next two days are sea days, so expect a little more in depth posts, until then, go Sabres, LoCurto, Whyte, and Rivera.
Seabag








P.S.
Again, feel free to ask any questions, and I really look forward to your responses.

My Address

Hey,
Feel free to send me mail @

Michael “Mic” Murphy, #407850
Entertainment Department
M.S. Carnival Glory
P.O. Box 026059
Miami, FL 33102-6059 USA

Cash Donations Accepted!

Seabag

more pics

Howdy Buckaroos! I don’t have much to report today, another day of long dull training. I was fortunate enough to watch as we pulled into St.Thomas, and I was able to take a few snapshots throughout the day. It looks as if I may be able to get off in St.Maarten tomorrow, so if all goes well, I should have more pics for you. If nobody has any objections, I am going to try to stick to the picture format I made up yesterday. It should give you a general Idea, and if there are any pics I think are extraordinary, I’ll post it alone. Swell, so I’m off to the races…catch you on the flippity flop.

Ensign Manbag

Monday, the ninth of July, the year of our lord 2007…

Monday, the ninth of July, the year of our lord 2007…

Last night was a good time. I was able Watch the first run of our Sunday “Vegas style” show from the sound booth, and the second from the automation perch. It is your typical razzle dazzle glitz and glamour song and dance revue named “Living in America”. Plenty of patriotism, Neil Diamond, and good ol’ American cheese. The department does a very good job with cue sheets and of making sure you have a good working knowledge of the show before you start running it. I am very confident I won’t be killing any of our pretty young (and in most cases, foreign) dancers by dropping loads of metal and scenery onto their heads. The automation system seems very straight forward and I think by the end of the week I’ll be rockin’ it out. The late night comedian was simply awful, and we had to wait until 12:30 for him to finish his act. Went for and Had 2 beers (remember all good things come in two’s) with the company trombone player (Matty, Philly ) and the guy I am replacing (Norm, Detroit). After some crafty detective work I found out Norm is a fellow IATSE brother. It is always great to work with somebody with a card, so we raised a glass to the International, and that was that. I Had 1:30am chicken fingers in the crew mess and kicked myself for not bringing my anchor bar sauce. All in all it was a great day and it helped to quiet my very noisy mind.

Today: Started the day with a 7am shakedown. Two Indian (dot not feather) Security officers came in, made me draw the curtain around my bunk, and searched the room for contra-ban. It felt very much like an “MSNBC investigates: Inside Folsom Prison” moment. From what I understand, these are pretty rare, but there is a federal safety auditor aboard, so my floor got chosen. Roll of the dice, spin of the wheel, what can you do? Anyway, went back to bed for a couple more hours and got over it really quickly. When I woke up, I grabbed a cup of coffee and had a few smokes on the crew deck. I guess I should mention today is a “sea day” so no port of call, just deep blue water as far as the eye can see.

All new hires had Orientation/Training at 11 this morning . There were 8 of us, all wide eyed and still reeling from the last 48 hours. We finaly got the proper tour of the boat everybody kept promising, and I have to say she really is quite impressive. Everything is in top order, and polished to beyond gleaming. We also had to watch loads of training videos which were easily circa 1988, still on VHS if that tells you anything. They were absolutely awful, par for the course when dealing with corporate training. So that leaves me here, lying in my bunk, listening to music and quickly posting this. I have to load in the fly on “Motown” act in an hour, so I reckon I should quit jawing on and go have some chow.

As always, kind regards,

Seabag Manbag

P.S. Take a Gander at the pics, most of them are from crew deck looking at ocean. If you can make out any land, you are looking at the Bahamas. The pics of the ship are from Port Canaveral. Enjoy, and keep those comments coming! Sorry they are so crappy and small, the internet onboard is almost as slow as dialup so I am trying to save time. I’ll try and post prettier ones in port.

The Saga of the Sea

Well, Day two at sea… Sorry I didn’t post yesterday, but as days go, it was rather overwhelming. Met a girl from West Seneca on the airplane. She was pretty cool and a singer in the shows so I had somebody to latch on to who had at least a working knowledge of what in god’s name was going on. We pulled up to the port in the shuttle bus and I was absolutely blown away by the size of the ship. It is easily the size of a small coastal European country. After passing through security we were dragged around the boat, shown things I’ll never remember, and then left to our own devices in out “luxurious” cabins. I have temporary digs until I can join my department when the guy I replace leaves in two weeks. Until that day I am occupying the smallest size staff cabin with a Russian bartender. Yesterday was a 23 hour day of utter confusion, beffudlement, and sheer anxiety. Luckily, the entertainment staff seems top notch, and extremely friendly. My immediate co-workers consist of a girl from NYC, another from Wales (UK), a kid from Michigan, and another guy from California. The Theater is very small but extremely state of the art and visually stunning. I think the crew was relieved when I started to ask about the gear with some authority or at the very least some recognition. Anyway, if this seems a bit disjointed, bear with me….disjointed is a good way of describing my last few days on a whole. So we worked two shows, I was introduced to the dark hole I will be working in for the next 8 mos. The automation equipment is very cool, and I think it’s going to be relatively easy to wrap my head around…..Finished the night with a nightcap or two in the Crew Bar, which the natives have affectionately named “the church”. The theater staff took turns buying me Labatt (hot diggity dog, they do have Labatt), and after about 4 beers(for some reason everybody orders drinks by twos. “Good things come in two’s” as it was explained to me) I was ready for bed. Anyway, that was yesterday.

I woke up this morning at 10 and we were already at port. I’m confined to ship my first week, so I had to be content to bask on the Bahamas deckside. I have done absolutely nothing today, my shift starts at 4 and I pretty much have spent the day napping and smoking cigarettes on the crew deck. I watched as we pulled out from port. That was pretty bloody cool… the Bahamas look beautiful from sea. I forgot to bring my camera, so sorry about that. I’ll make sure I have it for St. Thomas. Anyway, I just found the internet café, my shift starts in an hour, and I have email and other things to check, so I will leave it at that. Again, sorry this post had absolutely no form and rambled on for days. Feel free to ask any specific questions, and I’ll TRY to update every couple of days.

Keep it on the reel, maties.

Last hours on land

SWEET MOTHER OF PEARL, I'M ABOUT TO SPEND 8 MOS ON A BLOODY BOAT!

This be a test

This only be a test, maties!