Day 6-7 - All Star Smooth Jazz Cruise - March 2-3, 2007

I have finally gotten around to finishing our Cruise Travelogue. Took awhile.

It was the best of days...

It was the worst of nights...

Today, day six, at Cozumel, was going to be our one formal excursion on this cruise: the Isla Pasion Beach Adventure VIP. Such a simple title! And it was actually one of the "simpler" excursions offered. Mostly unfettered beach time. No snorkeling. No multiple sites to visit. No hustling and bustling about. A (decent) lunch was included on this one, and an open bar. Hey! Vamanos! Oralé!

We docked at Cozumel around 8am, on schedule, and our trip was slated for 10am. Plenty of time for a liesurely, yet boring, breakfast on board. Five hours were alloted for this excursion. We'd take about 45 minutes to get to & from our destination and have about three hours for lunch and beachtime on Passion Island, which is just off the northern coast of Cozumel.

There's a deep-water pier at Cozumel where the cruiseliners dock, so you can just walk right off the boat onto dry land. No "tenders" (boats) to catch. Similar to Jamaica, but a world away. It was probably about a half-mile walk from the boat to the mercado in perfect, sunny, warm weather. Mexico has built up quite a shopping and food extravaganza at the pier. And very much under construction. Ah, Mexico.

We met our guide at the mercado and about 40 of us caught two buses (no chickens, just tourists, and air-conditioning!). Our host was Cesár. His jefe, Pepe, was on the 2nd bus. His job was to loosen us up and be our guide/entertainer/chaparone and all-around ham for the trip. We drove thru town, then headed north to the coast to where we eventually caught a small boat to take us across the smooth lagoon to Passion Island, on a boat called "The Titanic."

Cseár tells us that this island is where they've been filming all of those Corona commercials. Right over there. And there. And it is picture-postcard perfect. There's your proverbial thatched-roof restaurant-bar, your hammocks, your seaside beds, your chairs and umbrellas, and don't forget your Coronas, con limon por favor. Gratis.

There are few things I like better than swinging gently in a hammock on a beautiful beach. I won't go into those other things.

Wifey brought along a book to read on the beach...

I took some time to lay back in the sea bed and drift off. For some reason, I didn't need a pillow.

Cesár wandered by and offered to take some pictures of us with my camera. He's had some practice at this, no doubt. With a job like this, why would you want to go to the United States? Nuh-uh.

Both Cesár y Pepe were from Mexico City, where work was scarce. Both had been on Cozumel for over 20 years and had found work. There wasn't much on Cozumel in 1970. All of this development was been in recent years. I don't know how much these guys get paid, but they had great jobs (from my perspective. The reality may be quite starker.) They picked up a lot of extra cash in tips from the tourists, however.

They have some of what they call "open-air" shopping on the island. It's basically a few tents with trinkets, carvings, etc, inside. I gravitated to a couple of metal half-moon faces and asked, "Cuanto?" The guy tells me $80US each. $160 total. Ha! No way. We decided that these pieces were, in fact, just too big and heavy to carry back with us. He kept on reducing the price, naturally, and when we finally walked away, he was down to $40 for both.

We did, however, pick up some jewelry at another tent for friends and family.

The lunch they provided was simple but good: BBQ chicken, rice, beans, a really tasty guacamole, a salad, chips & salsa, all sorts of fruits, y muchas cervezas. Most of the excursions didn't offer any lunch at all. Some offered "snacks," which might turn out to be something like one piece of sushi. Yum! NOT!

The ocean was aquamarine in close and deep blue out to sea. Gorgeous. Random, fluffly, white, clouds. The water was a lot chillier than I expected, however, but it didn't take long to get used to it.

Unfortunately, our beach time came to an end too soon and we were all herded back to the little boat, back to Cozumel, driven back to the mercado and walked back to the cruiseliner, avoiding all the hawkers in all the shops along the way.

Once back on board the Conquest, we went to the deck where they display all the pictures that they have taken of you on board. There must have been 10,000 pictures on display. Finding your pics is kinda hard, but we found what we thought were all of them. Not bad pictures, actually. Professional quality at reasonable prices: $20 for a 8x11; $15 for a 5x7. We dropped about $80 on them and still felt like it wasn't a bad deal. The pictures were taken from the second "formal" night on board, and we were already dressed up anyway, for dinner. We'd been talking for awhile about getting some new pictures made for the family but had never gotten around to it. Voila!

Once we pushed off from the dock at Cozumel, the fun (read: hell) began. There was a storm in the Gulf of Mexico, and the waves began picking up. The boat began rocking and rolling back and forth, and lurching left and right, plunging down and up. I think I felt every lurch. We had an early dinner at the buffet, thinking that, since the buffet was about in mid-ships, the boat motion would be reduced. The Monet dining room was located at the very rear of the ship, and we assumed (rightly) that the boat would REALLY be felt there. Still, even in mid-ships, we had to hold onto our plates sometimes to keep them from sliding around on the table. Oh, isn't this fun! Better take another dramamine. Fortunately, wifey's motion-sickness patch was working pretty well.

The TV in the cabin said that we were currently in 12-15' seas, and it was really miserable, but the scale on the screen went all the way up to 40' waves. Now, these seas were really bad. I cannot imagine in my most fevered nightmare being on a boat in 40' waves. I have to marvel and cringe at all the sailors over the years who had to endure horrible seas, sometimes for weeks at a time, in much smaller boats. Perhaps I would have gotten used to it, after puking my guts out for days.

The concerts tonight were featuring Maysa Leak (the female singer of Incognito) and Boney James, one of my favorite sax players. We got there early enough to get a good seat and after only about 15 minutes of Maysa and Boney on stage at the same time, and getting motion sick from the exaggerated movement of the boat, both high-tailed it out of there for a more-stable area. Alas, none was to be found. We were plowing thru the large waves at high speed. Our steward said that the captain was going at full-speed to try and get thru the bad weather as soon as possible. I guess that makes sense.

As bad as the waves were, neither of us got sick. A little dizzy and nauseous, yes. Sick, no. A couple of fellow cruisers told us that this was nothing. They'd been on cruises where the waves were much worse, and still they did fine.

Today, March 2, was the full moon. I'd been looking forward to this day all week, being a moon-child and all. You know the pictures. You see a couple on a balcony with a full moon over the horizon. Beautiful. Well, the bad weather put the kibosh on seeing the full moon. No moon to be seen at all. And from the balcony, you'd freeze and get soaked by the rain. Lovely.

About the only place we found safe from the motion of the boat was in our cabin, in bed, so we decided to make a rather early evening of it. You know, when I sleep, sometimes I like to turn over in bed. I prefer to do it myself. This evening, however, I was rolling around in bed not of my own accord. It was miserable. Another dramamine, please. Maybe the drugs will knock me out so I can sleep. Wifey was better, thanks to her patch. No perfect, but better than I was doing.

Somehow, we did sleep ok, but when we awoke on Saturday, the boat was still rocking like mad. All day Saturday. There is no need to compile another post for Saturday. It was a full day at sea, and we were praying to get off of the boat as soon as possible. All day long, rain, wind, high seas, just a nightmare. And no way to get off the boat. Trapped like rats. Wet rats. The 3pm Pool Side jazz concert was canceled.

Friday night and Saturday at sea were quite enough, in and of themselves, to convince us that we are not "cruise people." You other guys, you can have them. Go for it. I don't see how the industry survives. I don't see how they get any passengers during the summer months, when the hurricanes are active. They say that they steer around the storms, but even a storm that is hundreds of miles away will produce gigantic waves far from it's eye. Ugh! I'm getting queasy just thinking about that.

Saturday was just a blur. We were stumbling around the decks, grasping for rails, sitting at windows and trying to fix on the horizon, which could not even be seen half the time due to the bad weather. It's like one of those bad times you'd rather just forget, where your mind sorta helps you out and wipes the memory for you. Saturday was like that. There was no way we were going to attend the Saturday evening grand finale concert featuring Brian Culbertson. The Toulouse Lounge was at the front of the boat, where the waves could be felt most of all, and I didn't want to go near it. We skipped dinner in the Monet too. Saturday brought a crashing end to a not-so-great adventure. But we had to try it once, just so we'd know. And now, we know.

For several days after the cruise, we were still feeling the motion of the boat and the vertigo.

Next time, we catch a plane to the islands. Rent a car. Go our own speed.

End of story.