My high school reunion cruise of July 10-13, 2015 in the Caribbean was a much anticipated event. Thanks to Julie, one of the organizers who reminded me to pay the $200 deposit by December and the remaining amount in April, I eventually did reserve a cabin and book my flights and attend this reunion. I say “thanks” because I had great reservations.
For one, I live on Maui. Why would I fly half-way around the world to board a boat departing from another beach to cruise in another ocean?
Two, I remember the Yangtze River cruise with my dad in June 2002 before it was flooded to pave way for the Three Gorges Dam. I didn’t like the confined tour group we were in, having to share every dining table and tour activity with them. My father was the best tour guide, better than the one we paid to lead us. I didn’t feel like making polite conversation with others, for Dad had much to say.
Three, every time I called the Royal Caribbean International to pay and make reservations, I was put on an infinite hold, during which time I had to listen to blood-pumping advertisements of the various “exciting” activities on board. After half-an-hour, I’d hang up in vain. It sounded like the cruise would be amplified with loud, background music — the kind I dreaded. I wasn’t interested in all-you-can-eat buffets or all-night casinos. I just wanted to see my old classmates and dance the night away.
Four, I was desperately afraid of getting sea sick. Why pay to get sick? I remember the Yangtze River cruise vividly. It was a small and old boat. In my mind, I replayed the sinking of the Titanic.
With Dad at Huang Shan, June 2002
Five, there were no short cuts to getting there. Any flight from Maui would require at least two stopovers. Even the cheapest red-eye flight would fare nothing short of a thousand bucks return, if I booked early enough.
Six, Suzy, the friend who shared a hotel room with me at the Williamsburg reunion in May 2014 and made me laugh had decided not to join the cruise because she was going on another cruise the following month. Who will make me laugh then?
Seven, it would be a year since my dad passed away. Am I ready to celebrate life and move on?
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