by Julie Ann Grady

Created on: December 08, 2010

Cruise Ship Caveats, as Discovered on a Childhood Vacation

The sea was rife with swells, whitecaps as far as the eye could see. The sky was impending doom personified, clouds accosting the Earth’s surface, pelting it with tiny vicious missiles of rain. The boat was handling everything in absolute stride, built for the sea’s brutality. However, I was the complete opposite.

Seafaring, I am not. So why cruise to Bermuda from Boston? My mother. It was her attempt to tempt me away from the illustrious allure of Ecuador’s Amazonian rainforests. The jungle was too dangerous for a newly 13 year-old.

Midnight buffets and sunbathing, Barb’s idea of appropriate mischief. And while this trip was wholly appreciated, the weather was not. It was so severe in fact, that napkin-folding class had to be cancelled due to this ever-growing hurricane. All that money spent on a vacation and I didn’t even get to learn how to transform a serviette into a swan. 

A typical self-interested child, I saw this nausea-inducing vacation as an opportunity to gain leverage: no matter the outcome of such a horrific cruise, a hurricane in the middle of the ocean makes a trek through Ecuador look tame (barring all the tarantulas and fire ants). I just had to weather the storm first.

Confined to a less than grand cabin, my mother and I were stuck with a 13” television, the Stalone movie Daylight and each other. Together we learned that land loving is not shameful, you can only take so much Dramamine and Sylvester Stalone is a far cry from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. 

Having torn through our supply of Dramamine in what seemed like minutes, we were desperate to find a way to prevent our seasickness. But because my mother was already far worse than myself, we arrived at the on-ship mini-mart just in time watch one family grab the last of the drugs. Luckily, it turns out there are natural ways to prevent becoming green around the gills. 

We picked up some bracelets: outrageously overpriced and elastic in nature with a round ball that applies pressure to a specific acupuncture point on the wrist. Finally, I was cured. My mother, however, was not. I was sent on a mission to scour the ship in order to find any remedy I could. My mother was far too busy clutching the bed in hopes to tame her inner ear. 

Majestic halls were empty, lifeless. The only souls I encountered were through closed cabins. I could hear everyone and they all seemed to be suffering. With a just-in-case white paper vomit bag in one hand, I plodded through the corridors, clutching the railing with the other, desperately waiting for a crew member, a maid, the captain, anyone to appear. 

My wish came true just as I was about to put that white paper bag to good use—a member of the staff saw me taking a white-knuckle ride in the hall. After helping me to regain my footing, I explained our Dramamine deficit problem. 

Easy. He said that it was easy to solve. Could he not sense the 45-degree sway taking place at the moment? “Apples, you need apples.” It turns out the pectin in the skin of apples helps to settle the stomach.

He was right. Barb and I were up and running, well up and not falling over, in no time. Once we cruised through the storm and were safely docked, we kissed the land and barely went back to the ship. Sunny Bermuda had just missed the storm. Was it worth all the strife? Maybe not, but I did get to explore the Amazon a year later. 

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