kcl57

Like in any big city, few stars can be seen at night on a cruise ship. Even if sailing black waters with black sky far from mankind, the ships themselves blast so much light pollution that you see nothing but black. It’s just like how stars are not visible from the surface of the moon. I pondered this while at the stern rail, as aft, port, and starboard were impenetrable black. Far beyond the bow, however, the orange glow of oil refineries illuminated the swamps of Louisiana. We were nearing the mouth of the Mississippi River and occasional navigation beacons of red and green popped through the broken surface of the sea.
“What happens if I fall overboard?” a man had asked me earlier. It was such a common question that my answer had become habit. “The ship will stop and a boat will pick you up.”
But this was only half true. I gazed into the wake of the ship and watched the brown water churn. The waves looked very small indeed from the top decks. If the hundred-plus foot fall did not kill the passenger, he would disappear in the gargantuan swells. Fortunately, it is unlikely modern azipod propellers would chop him into chum. Safety training was very clear in the case of a man overboard: throw a life-ring first, then call the bridge. People assume the life-ring is simply a flotation device, but it is in fact much more. A person’s head will disappear from sight within seconds from the deck of a big ship. After throwing a life ring we were trained to grab someone, anyone, to physically point at the swimmer and not stop until he’s found, no matter how long it takes. That physical act of pointing is paramount, for even if aware of the swimmer, he’ll be lost in less than one minute at sea. But at night? And if no one sees you fall? Goodbye.
That very cruise someone had, in fact, gone overboard. Rumors of how and why among the crew and guests were rampant. The leading story among passengers was that two honeymooners were arguing and there was a push. Crew thought differently. Another suicide, most agreed. For suicides were not so rare on cruise ships. More than a few folks intentionally spent their every last penny on a final week of wild abandon and, late on the final night, jumped overboard. What better way to ensure no one will rescue you? How many people are looking aft of a ship at 3AM? It is possible to survive such falls, but unlikely unless you’re a fighter.
Though statistically utterly insignificant, unexplained deaths on a cruise ship do happen. Because most occur in international waters, reporting obligations and behavior are decidedly less than altruistic. Cruise lines invariably fudge reporting, because people read headlines, not articles. Whether it’s a suicide or not matters little to critics, who pounce upon any hint of cruise line recklessness. Even if it is a suicide, days can pass before verification from land-based authorities, even with the presence of a note. By then, sensational headlines can blow things wildly out of proportion.
On that cruise, nobody knew for certain what happened. An investigation was resolved somewhere on land, as was always the case. The only fact the crew knew for sure was that the man was never found until he washed up on the Gulf Coast several days later.
I focused on a floating piece of flotsam and watched it disappear into the night. It was lost to the blackness within fifteen seconds.
By Brian David Bruns, author of national best-seller Cruise Confidential.
Pics of the people and places I blog about are on my website and FB pages, join me!
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Discover life below the waterline, where dozens of nationalities combine in ways none could have ever imagined. Strange cabins mates, strange food, strange ports, and strange ways (not to mention strange guests!). From the author of national best-seller Cruise Confidential comes the memories, the dramas, and most of all the laughs, of a job unlike anything else in the world. We enjoy vacation. They live adventure.

Food keeps crew members from fully integrating, perhaps more than any other single thing on the big ships. Access to ‘food from home’ varies dramatically because ‘home’ varies so dramatically. Some cruise lines have more Indian, or eastern European, or Caribbean dishes, depending on the make-up of the crew. International food for crew is the real deal, unlike, say, the food court at the mall, where you get Mexican (Taco Bell), Italian (Sbaro’s), or Chinese (Panda Express), which are utterly Americanized. Ironically, ships do cater to American tastes below the waterline, despite only a handful of us aboard. Even more ironic is that nearly all are entertainers who won’t eat it. But hot dogs and hamburgers are cheap, so mystery solved.
But every day on every ship of every cruise line is Asian day. Massive amounts of steamed white rice are always available, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, bowing to the preponderance of eastern Asian crew. I will never forget my first trip to the crew mess, on Carnival Fantasy. While I heaped a couple strip steaks on my plate (I love you, Carnival!), my colleagues opted for a mound of white rice and a ladleful of fish head soup poured over the top. Perhaps that explained our radical disparity of weight.
Fortunately, I found the different foods from different cultures a benefit (I’m a foodie). Many did not. Considering how hard we all worked, the desire for familiar, comforting food was understandable. Further, most crew came from rural environments with limited diversity and limited interest in it. But the real problem isn’t food, but food habits.
Food is not allowed in crew cabins, though all crew types sooner or later sneak some in. Many keep a ready supply of dry goods, which are sometimes legal. Asians, for example, hoard entire flats of instant noodles, and who’s going to know about a secreted hot plate, enabling a late night snack? But this maritime discipline regarding food was enacted with good reason. Two, actually, because on some ships there are roaches. Even a ship passing a health inspection with flying colors may have pest problems down in the bowels where the crew live. (don’t freak: we all know rats abandon ship first, right?)
But the real reason food is denied in crew cabins is because it invariably ends up in the toilets in a most nonbiological manner. Ship toilets are very, very sensitive. The crew? Not so much.
When working on RCI’s Majesty of the Seas, we had to contend with this latter issue to the extreme. Fish bones backed up the sewage system so often that the entire aft crew deck smelled like feces. Literally. What killed me was that disposing evidence was the only time many flushed the toilets at all! I still shudder at the seeing the overworked zombies brushing their teeth beside toilets filled to the brim, lids wide open. Equally confusing to me was why a crew member flushed a shoe. This resulted in backing up the waste systems for the entire ship, and none other than the hotel director himself was forced to search the cabins. He swore a lot that day.
Despite all this, some of us do have access to room service. That doesn’t mean the crew is happy to provide it, though. One night my order of several sandwiches resulted in bread so deeply impressed by the thumbs of an enraged chef that I could all but see his fingerprints.
By Brian David Bruns, author of national best-seller Cruise Confidential.
Pics of the people and places I blog about are on my website and FB pages, join me!
www.BrianDavidBruns.com
https://www.facebook.com/BrianDavidBruns
Details on the NCL Epic Bruns cruise at patsea@cruiseadventures4U.com