6 months before my 65th birthday, Angie announced that for my 65th birthday she would like to take a cruise around Cape Horn. I said that it sounded like a good idea, what will I do? Well we got that misunderstanding straightened out, booked our cruise and in late February 2008 we were ready to go.
The first leg of our holiday was by air to Buenos Aires on American Airlines, changing planes in Miami. We arrived at the Toronto International Airport, checked in and proceeded through U.S. Immigration & Customs. After clearing customs we got to the baggage chute and prepared to load our bags onto the conveyor with a hope that we would see them again in B.A. “Will it be warm in Miami”, Angie asked me. I said, “Ange, it’ll be over 70 degrees and anyway we’re not leaving the terminal. Why do you need to know?”. “Well if that’s the case I won’t need my coat.” Angie informed me. She removed her coat stuck it inside her suitcase and loaded it on to the conveyor belt. I was on my way to the security area when I heard Angie yell “Oh no, Russell”. I turned around and started back towards her. “What’s up now?”, I asked. “You won’t believe what I’ve done. My boarding pass and passport are in my coat that is in my suitcase that I checked through to B.A.”. “Pity!”, I said. “It’s not funny, what will I do now?”. I waved down a Toronto Airport agent. “What’s the matter?”, asked the agent in a broad Lancashire accent. Angie explained what had happened and the agent turned to me and asked if I had my passport and boarding pass. I showed her the documents and she said that I was to follow her while Angie waited by the baggage chute. So now she and I are going back through Customs & Immigration out to the American Airlines ticket counter.
At the counter I started to explain our predicament. The ticket agent became visibly annoyed and began asking me how this could have happened. “Do you understand how difficult this is going to be”, she ranted, “do you realize how many bags there are down there that we now have to sort through? This could take hours. How did this happen, why did it happen?” she continued, highly upset and the implication was clear. How could anyone have been this stupid? Well, of course, it happens, you and I know that. Keys get locked in cars, things get mislaid, we’re human. So in order to diffuse the tension and do so without insulting the agent I said, “Well, you see my wife spent a year in a psychiatric hospital”. Talk about a 180 deg change in attitude. This irate agent calmed right down and the next thing I knew AA agents were doing handstands and somersaults trying to help me. The Toronto Airport agent was still standing with me and once the AA agents had sprung into action she and I went across the atrium and waited by the wall.
After 20 minutes the AA agent came running across the atrium with a big smile waving Angela’s documents. The impossible had been accomplished in 20 minutes. Now we had to go back through Customs & Immigration; a major feat at this time of day. But the Toronto Airport agent had her pass and within a few minutes, almost 30 minutes after we had left Angie, we had returned. The Airport agent handed the passport and boarding pass to Angie saying in a very soothing, calming voice, “Here you are dear, now you have a good time and don’t you let this get you down.” The agent patted Angie’s hands and walked away obviously proud to have assisted us.
Angie’s first question was “why did that lady talk to me like that?”. “How do you mean?” I said sheepishly. “Well she talked to me like I was a child, what did you say to her?”. So I related the events including the part about the hospital. “Did you tell her (the AA agent) why I was in the psychiatric hospital for a year?”, she demanded to know. I stammered out, “Er, well, er, she (the AA agent) never asked and when I saw the effect it had on the other AA agents I didn’t have the guts to tell them either”.
When Angie was born her dad was on staff at The Royal Cheadle Psychiatric Hospital in Manchester and she and her family lived on the grounds during Angie’s first year after she was born.
“So now they think I’m mental, I have to go back and explain to them why you said what you said.”, she pleaded. I said, “Angie right now they only think you’re mental, but if you go back through customs & immigration to the AA counter they’re going to know.”
I spent most of our cruise telling that story over and over to anyone who would listen. If Angie did anything out of the ordinary I would explain that it was because she spent a year in a psychiatric hospital.
I had never expected the lass from Lancashire to take me at my word, but it certainly worked out ok.
Our Cruise to the Amazon.
The next year we went on a cruise to Manaus, down the Amazon. We had all out shots and had our malaria pills with us.
The ship we were going on was exactly the same type as our previous cruise around South America, This meant that we would have no problem with orientation. We knew exactly where things were. We never go on 7 day cruises because we find we spend, what amounts to 4 days, looking for our stateroom.
It was a small ship with maybe 900 passengers, perfect. We spent the first day by the small pool located in the centre of the ship. Here’s a picture of what it looks like today. I’m sure it’s been refurbished a few times, but you get the idea.
It’s basically a rectangle. Typically there is table tennis in one corner and Arts & Crafts in another corner
. At least that’s how it was set up on our first cruise which was with a different cruise company.
So there we were stretched out on our chaises when I heard an announcement. “There will be a Ceramics Class on the sun deck in 10 minutes.” Perfect! I love ceramics, I’m in. So I make my way over to the area and find out that the Ceramic class is right in the middle of the Smoking Section. Not only is the class there, but I discover that the table tennis tables are there as well. I was so pissed that I marched down to the ship’s reception desk and demanded to speak to whoever was in charge of Common-Sense on this ship.
The receptionist looked at me and blinked. Then she stammered “How can I help you, sir?” “I would like to speak to the Officer on this ship who’s in charge of Common-Sense.”, I demanded. “Is there a problem, sir?”, she asked, very astutely. “Yes there’s a problem”, I continued. “The table tennis and the art classes are right in the middle of the smoking section. This means that only smokers can play table tennis and do activities. Does this make any sense to you?”
She went away and came back with the request that I write my concerns in a letter and she will pass it along to the correct person.
I went back to my stateroom and wrote my concerns down. In the letter I pointed out the lack of common-sense regarding their decision to put the activities in the smoking section. I further pointed out that on other ships of this design the smoking section was put as far away as possible from the activity centre. I continued, pointing out (tongue-in-cheek) that I had surveyed the deck and discovered that it had 4 corners, 2 of which were available. I suggest you locate the smoking area to one of those corners. I finished my letter by pointing out that their literature was full of their boasting about how everything on the ship was “environment friendly”. I concluded with, “So clearly you care about the environment, just not the people in it.” I handed the letter in and waited for a reply.
The next day came and I still hadn’t heard anything. I spotted a staff member with all kinds of chevrons on his dress shirt, denoting superiority. I approached him and asked what his job was aboard this vessel. “I am the manager of hotel services, sir.” “Ah!”, I said, “you’re just the man I want to speak to. Why are the activities in the middle of the smoking area? It doesn’t make any sense”, raising my voice and shaking my fists to emphasize my frustration. “Ah, Mr. Ross, I read your letter”. Notorious already! He continued, with an explanation worthy of Basil Fawlty. “You need to understand that we have 6 ships of this type and”, I stopped him there and said, “You mean to tell me that you have made the same mistake 5 other times?” I was staring at him, incredulous that any company could be so stupid. “Let me see what I can do.”, he answered. Oh well! I had done my best. We were at sea for the next 2 days. Let’s see what happens next.
That night Angie and I went dancing. The next day Angie was complaining of chest pains and she went to see the ship’s doctor. He was unable to find any cause for the pain.
Later that day I received “good news” from the hotel manager. One of the tennis tables had been moved to another corner. This was “good news”? They’d left the activity centre in the middle of the smoking section. I questioned the wisdom of their decision, pointing out that the problem was not solved. The next day we docked at St. Lucia and they, unceremoniously, threw us off the ship. To be fair, they said it was because Angie needed hospitalization for her pain. The fact is that I was probably the pain they wanted to get rid of.
