Hubby and I spent last week on an anniversary cruise to Bermuda. Always the bargain hunter, this 7-day gem was found for $449 each. What a deal! After leaving the port of Boston, the reason for the cheap price became readily apparent; October is still hurricane season! Catching the end of a hurricane on our second day, we enjoyed 15-foot waves crashing into the bow of the ship, altering our enjoyment of the entertainment that evening. The singers and dancers, barefoot instead of wearing high heels, slipped and slid across the stage, gamely proving “the show must go on.” The two-story tall computer monitor with the lovely background pictures indignantly shook as the crashing waves could be heard eerily echoing throughout the auditorium, which was only half full. Most of the cruisers, especially those without a Scopolamine patch, were laid up in their staterooms sipping tea, or worse.

I did not get sick, but, with the rolling of the ship, I bounced like a ball in a video arcade game back and forth from wall to wall. What an extra thrill! I made sure to take the elevators lest the bouncing motion continue down the stairs. Even with so many people not out and about, the elevators were full to bursting, giving a personal experience of a “can of sardines.” Standing upright, person after person squished their way into the elevator until there was barely a hair’s breadth between us. Eyes turned downward as our body parts meshed, embarrassment was replaced by an urge to get somewhere without waiting interminably for the next elevator.

Upon reaching the restaurant level, people burst out, dispersing their separate ways, despite all going to the same place. Once inside the restaurant, we were obliged to outstretch our hands so a ship’s assistant could spray them with sanitizer. “Washy, washy” they would say, as we wiped away germs to stop the spread of disease. (It was ironic that they were so concerned with the flu when so many of the cruisers were sea sick in their staterooms.) We bravely sat by a window to view the dark beauty of the hurricane force winds churning up the sea in a mass of white caps. The tea in my cup splashed over the side of the cup onto the tablecloth, and for once it wasn’t spilling because I was clumsy. With a voracious appetite from all the extra exercise, I searched the menu for edible delights. For anyone who has been on a cruise, it is a well-known fact that you can order anything from the menu, not necessarily the ascribed four courses. With glee, I ordered the shrimp and risotto appetizer, crab puffs, two lobster tails, filet mignon and a strawberry crème brulee to get some fruit into my diet.

On the third day, we arrived in Bermuda to beautifully sunny 80-degree weather, fortunate to have suffered the effects of the storm while on the ship rather than during our time on land, (possibly not so fortunate for those who were ill, many of whom refused to get back on the ship, choosing to fly home despite the cost.) Having been to the island before, we knew the secret of Snorkel Beach where, rather than rent snorkeling equipment for $25, we brought our own from home, paying only $5 to get onto the white sandy beach. Hubby chose to lie on the beach and get sunburned while I enjoyed snorkeling in the reef, using a life jacket to hold me up so I didn’t have to swim. Bobbing in the water, a kaleidoscope of fish swam below me, mesmerizing as they swam. It was just like swimming in a real fish tank as I saw angel fish, Nemo’s relatives, as well as a baby eel. As an extra adventure, I got caught up in a school of fish, swimming around me in a scary whirlpool from which I could not escape for a few minutes. The free entertainment in the ocean far surpassed any amusement park or day trip we could have taken.

The trip home was uneventful and surprisingly relaxing. Whereas I have difficulties sleeping at home waking up many times a night, my sleep was undisturbed on the ship, which gently rocked me back and forth like a baby. I consciously chose more fruit on the return trip, and could drink a full cup of tea without spilling. Hubby and I held hands and smiled at each other, content not to deal with family issues during this brief reprieve, recharged to return home to face real life and all that if offers.