This ‘n That

this ‘n that by Anne Vargas annevargas3@gmail.com

“Tales of a Timid Traveler” is the title of the book I am writing for our grandchildren, a collection of stories about our adventures and experiences during the 24 years we spent as guest passengers on cruise ships. Some of chapters will continue to appear in Senior Spectrum. Here is another:

“It was a dark and stormy afternoon…”

If I were writing humorous fiction, that Snoopy parody might be a good opening. It actually was dark and stormy that afternoon but what transpired is neither fiction nor funny.

We were on a transatlantic crossing, day three of the four it takes to get from Ireland to Newfoundland. Three days of coping with increasingly violent “confused seas” had taken its toll; even the most seasoned passengers found it hard to pretend to be having fun.

We had ensconced ourselves for the afternoon in one of the public lounges in the middle of the ship, hopeful we’d feel less of the motion of the ocean there but it grew decidedly worse with every passing hour. The Captain had already told us he was attempting to avoid a hurricane by steering off our original course but he didn’t tell us the hurricane also veered off its anticipated course, now headed in the same direction.

The first seating group for dinner had just gone into the dining room; the majority of other passengers were in their cabins, either dressing or resting. Many were seasick. That, it turned out, was fortunate since there were very few people wandering public areas.

Around 6 p.m., the Captain announced over the loudspeaker that clogged water filters had caused one engine to die and the second had followed suit. Attempts to re-start them had so far failed but we were assured they would be up and running in a few moments; we were not to panic. Meanwhile, we were not only without engines, we were without electricity. Moments turned into hours.

The ship listed perilously without stabilizers. Everything not bolted down became a flying object. We watched in horror as a red baby grand piano flew across the room several times before flipping upside down on the floor. A two-ton safe in the casino fell, as did slot machines. Food in the kitchen flew everywhere, as did hot grease nearly causing a fire. Enormous bags of flour landed on the floor and tore open. Everything that could possibly fall fell; computers, televisions, crystal, china, the X-ray machine in the clinic. Doors and mirrors shattered. The shops lost all their merchandise. We clung to the bolted down table next to our chairs and watched the sea rise up, waves washing over the ship amid the sounds of constant crashing. Meanwhile, efforts to restart engines were still unsuccessful. The passengers in the dining room were made to sit on the floor under their tables, but as time went by with no apparent end to the situation, they were assisted out of there, one by one, into the lounge where we were, which was eventually packed to the rafters. Darkness fell. Since we were in a public area, we had dim emergency lighting but passengers in their cabins sat in the dark. Most of them crawled out into corridors where they huddled together. It was hot with no air conditioning. The toilets were also dependent on power; need I say more?

My initial reaction was to run to our cabin for our life jackets but no one was allowed to get up for fear of injury; one elderly man had already sailed down a flight of steps, suffering a broken collar bone. The staff was now out in full force to ensure no one moved so there we stayed.

This situation lasted over six hours. The crew did an incredible job trying to ease the distress. A group of passengers on a ship is basically a representation of any group of people you would find anywhere—the good, the bad and the ugly. In an effort to dispel fright, one man sang silly songs and others joined in. A very young dining room steward (who was surely as frightened as the rest of us) crawled in bearing a large tray laden with hastily made sandwiches (a slice of bread with a slice of cheese.) He was greeted with grateful appreciation by nearly everyone, but one woman peered intently at the offering and asked: “Is there any whole wheat?”

They did finally get engines running. Most people simply crawled into bed once the ship started to move under power, but it was still rocky for the next few days. The entire crew literally stayed up all night in effort to clean up the mess as much as possible and most passengers helped out the next day by telling exhausted cabin stewards not to bother cleaning their cabins. A “spirit of adventure” prevailed throughout the ship. That night, all drinks in all bars were free; champagne was served with dinner the night after that; every tour in Halifax (when we finally got there) was free of charge.

We missed Newfoundland entirely since our little adventure put us behind schedule so it took six straight days at sea before reaching Halifax, Nova Scotia. Some of the passengers needing medical

Anne Vargas

Book / from page 23 available in both English and Spanish.” The book also includes a message from AFA about how to introduce a conversation with children about Alzheimer’s disease—including sample questions to ask the child and tips to help them better understand. AFA’s Helpline, staffed entirely by licensed social workers and available seven days a week, can also provide information about discussing Alzheimer’s disease with a child or assistance with other Alzheimer’s-related questions. The Helpline can be reached by phone at 866-232-8484, web chat at www.alzfdn.org or text message at 646-586-5283.

“Young children, in particular, may sense something is amiss when a family member has Alzheimer’s, but may not be able to understand the subtle changes that are occurring early on in the disease progression,” said Jennifer Reeder, LCSW, AFA’s Director of Educational & Social Services. “Reading this book together with your child and having a conversation can help make them more understanding and compassionate, less fearful, and ultimately learn new ways to communicate with their loved one.”

Dancing With Granddad: An Alzheimer’s Story for Children and Their Families can be purchased at AFA’s e-store by visiting shop.alzfdn.org. attention were disembarked there, but the rest of us kept on cruising and, for the most part, smiling. Another day at sea before sailing past the Statue of Liberty at dawn, always an emotional experience, this time especially so.

My spouse is coolly composed in times of crisis. Throughout the havoc and my terror, he repeatedly and calmly assured me everything would be fine. I believed him. Only after we reached land did he admit that he hadn’t been so certain.

So we returned home with a new tale. Our friends listened in horror…surely we wouldn’t ever cruise again? But of course we did! NOTE: The ship’s photographer, who had become a friend, gave us copies of all the official photos he took to pass to the head office and insurance company. I still have them all.