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Cruise, Day 2...
Dec. 5th, 2006 12:31 pmMost of yesterday was spent in a daze, or in a doze, as it were. Galina got up too late for the yoga class she was interested in attending, and frankly, I wasn't too keen on attending any of the thinly disguised marketing opportunities scattered throughout the ship.
We did go to the art auction preview, which was billed as an opportunity to get a free glass of champagne, though by the time we got near the head of the line for drinks, the champagne had run out. There were few items among artwork being offered that I would be willing to display on my wall at home, though we did spy a few works - reproductions, as it turns out - by a Russian artist, one of whose canvases Galina bought several years ago during a trip to Moscow.
The captain just came over the intercom to report that we are now cruising in the Western Caribbean, 55 nautical miles from Cuba. Our course heading is 114 degrees, at a speed of 19 knots (or about 22 mph). We've covered 771 nautical miles since departing Galveston, and there are 369 nautical miles to go until Montego Bay, our first port of call. The wind is blowing from the northeast, at 25 knots, and the sky is clear. We crossed over into the Eastern time zone sometime during the night.
I might add that the sun is out, the pools are filled with people and there are a lot of sunbathers out, despite the wind.
In any event, I'm at the Internet café, charging the VAIO, making this post, checking email, and charging the iPod. I find that wearing my earplugs during sleep keeps me from waking up if Galina turns on the television during the night, which helps her go back to sleep.
I just came back from a session run by a fellow whose title escapes me - I think he's the "cruise director" - but who at any rate is in charge of telling us about all of the shopping opportunities at our ports of call. With appropriate substitutions of times, debarkation methods, tactics while ashore, overall timelines, and strategic objectives, his spiel could easily be made to sound like a briefing before an amphibious assault!
It may sound a bit ridiculous to make such a comparison, but I have noticed a tendency for me to compare this experience aboard the Conquest with time spent long ago aboard the the USS Raleigh, during amphibious assault training back in the Marines. It's that funny-strange tingle in my gut resulting from subtle shifts in my body's center of mass, along with the acquisition of "sea legs," that makes such a comparison almost unavoidable, in my view.
"Sea legs" is the phenomenon that allows you to walk straight down a ship's passageway while the ship is rolling. Before getting your sea legs, a normal person will weave down the same corridor like a drunk, as the motion of the ship keeps throwing you first to one side, and then another. I've noticed that I weave quite a bit less today than yesterday, which is good news.
Time to go ahead and post this, check email, and then get back to the cruise.
Cheers...
We did go to the art auction preview, which was billed as an opportunity to get a free glass of champagne, though by the time we got near the head of the line for drinks, the champagne had run out. There were few items among artwork being offered that I would be willing to display on my wall at home, though we did spy a few works - reproductions, as it turns out - by a Russian artist, one of whose canvases Galina bought several years ago during a trip to Moscow.
The captain just came over the intercom to report that we are now cruising in the Western Caribbean, 55 nautical miles from Cuba. Our course heading is 114 degrees, at a speed of 19 knots (or about 22 mph). We've covered 771 nautical miles since departing Galveston, and there are 369 nautical miles to go until Montego Bay, our first port of call. The wind is blowing from the northeast, at 25 knots, and the sky is clear. We crossed over into the Eastern time zone sometime during the night.
I might add that the sun is out, the pools are filled with people and there are a lot of sunbathers out, despite the wind.
In any event, I'm at the Internet café, charging the VAIO, making this post, checking email, and charging the iPod. I find that wearing my earplugs during sleep keeps me from waking up if Galina turns on the television during the night, which helps her go back to sleep.
I just came back from a session run by a fellow whose title escapes me - I think he's the "cruise director" - but who at any rate is in charge of telling us about all of the shopping opportunities at our ports of call. With appropriate substitutions of times, debarkation methods, tactics while ashore, overall timelines, and strategic objectives, his spiel could easily be made to sound like a briefing before an amphibious assault!
It may sound a bit ridiculous to make such a comparison, but I have noticed a tendency for me to compare this experience aboard the Conquest with time spent long ago aboard the the USS Raleigh, during amphibious assault training back in the Marines. It's that funny-strange tingle in my gut resulting from subtle shifts in my body's center of mass, along with the acquisition of "sea legs," that makes such a comparison almost unavoidable, in my view.
"Sea legs" is the phenomenon that allows you to walk straight down a ship's passageway while the ship is rolling. Before getting your sea legs, a normal person will weave down the same corridor like a drunk, as the motion of the ship keeps throwing you first to one side, and then another. I've noticed that I weave quite a bit less today than yesterday, which is good news.
Time to go ahead and post this, check email, and then get back to the cruise.
Cheers...
