Permanent Passenger: My Life on a Cruise Ship

by Micha Berman

  Of all the weekly activities, Gary hated this one with a passion. Each week he would beg me to do the event for him but would eventually give in minutes before he was to go on. As Gary introduced them on stage to a roaring audience of family and traumatized friends, he read their name, measurements, and secret fantasies with a playful melody in his voice. Names such as Delicious Debbie, Tanky Tommy, Hot Lips Harry, and Booby Bobby set the tone for an adult-themed event. Despite his dislike for the show, Gorgeous Gary knew how to pull it off and by the end of the evening the amused audience was giving him a standing ovation. I set up certain contestants beforehand to say a certain line or try to pinch Gary on the butt, not that they needed too much prodding. Finally, when a winner had been chosen Gary would catch the New Queen of the Ecstasy off guard, dipping them making it look as if he was kissing him. Each evening had its share of exhibitionism as certain passengers had a hard time keeping certain parts inside their lingerie. It was a sausage factory gone wrong. Eventually Carnival canceled this event due to a small but vocal contingent that complained of unacceptable lewdness, an apt description. Frankly, I was surprised it lasted as long as it did.

  Game shows are often criticized for being staged, pre-arranged or just downright scams. Gary was the pope of deception, the world's best malevolent con artist dressed in a cruise director's suit. Each week a newlywed game was played between three couples. Gary always picked two young couples and one elderly couple. He would prepare the game so on the last question in a nostalgic nod to the Chuck Eubank's Newlywed Game of the 1970's, he would ask, "Where was the last place you made whoopee?," The elderly couple replied without hesitation, "the shower on the cruise ship." The crowd roared with laughter and cheers every single week. He would talk to the participants on stage whispering answers without the crowd noticing his actions. Gary had a tremendous talent for making it seem as if the passengers were winning unbelievable prizes. In most cases, the prizes were cheap plastic trophies in the shape of a cruise ship that fell apart in a matter of days, keeping me busy on Sundays as I glued them together and salvaged them for another Newlywed Game.

  In addition to leading activities I gave tour talks that on the surface were supposed to be about all the cool places tourists could see while exploring the islands. However, Gary cleverly crafted these talks into large hypnosis sessions, convincing every passenger to visit all the specifically Carnival-approved shops and buy and then buy and then buy a little more. Questions were often the same. "Where do you go to shop for the best gold?" or "Where do you find great pearls?" I knew nothing of jewelry and mostly deferred to Gary, who also knew even less, but spoke effortlessly on where to buy the best silver or pearls on this continent or where to find his friend Harry who would give you a special "cruise ship" price. Part of Gary's salary was directly tied to the sales totals so he had great incentive to lead his little mice to the right destinations and week after week the Pied Piper never failed. For several years, Gary led the Carnival fleet in sales as witnessed by his large collection of expensive watches and jewelry displayed on his wrist, all gifts from the same stores he hustled during his talks.

  Gary wasn't against using his tricky talents of persuasion on staff either. Cruise directors compare to American Presidents or Hollywood stars when it comes to public visibility on a cruise ship. It was impossible for him to walk a hundred yards without being swarmed by cruisers who recognized him from the stage. Like a species from Darwin's writings, Gary developed a survival skill, the ability to rid people from his presence, a talent he shared with a skunk, except he sprayed his victims with words. This often meant outright lying or pointing people in the wrong direction. He was a master of deception and to this day I can't help but think this British fellow would make an ideal American politician.

  Our ship sailed for six days before returning to Miami on Sunday to prepare for a new cruise. Every other Sunday I would work in the office welcoming fresh new crew members aboard while reordering supplies or any other paperwork that needed to be completed, as well as gluing together the infamous plastic trophies. The most popular item on the ship for crew members was the red polo cruise staff shirt. Two crew members who were getting off the ship stopped by my office saying that Gary had called me and requested that they get two of these shirts. I knew we had been out of these shirts for weeks but was intrigued to hear the Carnival employees tell the story of how they had just witnessed Gary pick up the phone and call me to confirm that there were T-shirts available. With no limits to Gary's shenanigans, he had faked the phone conversation, just another one of his scams. Despite Gary's antics, I really had nothing to complain about. He manipulated me minimally and always with my knowledge for I had seen his game too closely and was a willing accomplice.

  The events on the ship run by Gary and his cruise staff provided many laughs; however, much of entertainment on the ship was done by performers who didn't live on the Ecstasy. These were the "fly-on," entertainers that included jugglers, magicians, comedians and singers from all over the country. They were flown to certain ports and then tendered to the ship in order to perform the evening act. Many of these performers could have easily fit into Barnum & Bailey's line up including a French juggler who only used his legs, a Bulgarian couple who twisted themselves into more variations than pretzels and an Australian man who claimed to be the strongest human being on earth. I couldn't argue with him after he balanced himself on his pinkie. At first they seemed like freaks of nature but each performer had a story to tell and as the assistant cruise director it was my job to welcome them each week onto the ship, set them up in a room and make sure they had everything they needed. Their actual performance time often lasted less than 10 minutes and within hours they were off the ship and only seen again several weeks later. They soon became friends and people I looked forward to seeing and I soon realized that by avoiding living on the ship they held on to a bit more sanity than many of my shipmates.

  One evening I found myself in the Moonlight Lounge at the back of the ship for a late show featuring a new comedian and a fly-on act. Often I prepped myself before the show studying their past performances and bios and for most of the fly-ons I knew them like they were my neighbor. As usual, I began my remarks talking about all the previous places he had performed when slowly I came to a scary realization that I had no idea what his name was and I was seconds away from a major faux pas. My nervousness grew as I babbled on about playing in Fort Lauderdale and the Improv in New York, hoping for a divine intervention. Unable to wait any longer, I pulled the microphone as close to my mouth as possible, and mumbled," Would you please welcome to the stage ?RRRHTTTRRRR,'" and ran off the stage. My humiliation was confirmed when I saw Gary sitting at the back bar having a drink and laughing. He told me later he knew a few seconds into my opening that I was in trouble and that I had forgotten the comedian's name; I had a crazy look on my face like I was lost or peeing in my pants or both. From then on, I made a point to learn the performer's name well in advance of the show. There were to be no more mistakes.

  My announcing skills also brought me into close contact with the top officers of the ship. Every once in a while I was asked to make an announcement to the whole ship from the bridge since the Italian officers were embarrassed about their poor English skills. By law the officers on the bridge, the area where the ship was actually steered, had to make announcements on safety several times during the cruise. They had a large book filled with hundreds of pages covered by tattered plastic containing every code and instruction on fire safety, life boat procedure, time change notes, weather warning--it was all in there.

  The first time I found my way up there I was terrified, expecting to have a captain with a black eye patch bark orders at me and treat me with disdain. Instead I found all of the equipment of the bridge with its many buttons, knobs, maps, flashing lights quite intimidating, but the Captain and Staff Captain turned out to be genteel older fellows who actually offered me a glass of Chianti. I kept looking for a steering wheel dum
bfounded by how two men steered a 70,000 ton ship through the seas and maneuvered the beast into the narrow ports. It was quite a testament to their skill and an awful lot of responsibility on their shoulders, which I would find out they were well compensated for. "How do you pronounce that word," Captain Gallo asked me as he pointed to the large book opened on the table. Their English level matched that of a Maitre D' at a local Italian restaurant in the mall, heavily slurring words butchered like wounded soldiers, yet both men stood proud and continued to talk despite their struggle with the language. Captain Gallo, a stout olive skinned man in his late forties who probably stood less than five foot four, despite his dashing good looks and suave demeanor simply could not put an English sentence together without causing havoc. This leader of the ship, ruler of the cruise liner universe pleaded with me like a child to read the full message on the intercom so that everyone would understand, and more importantly he wouldn't break into a cold sweat and have to suffer through a reading."Please, just this time," he urged as he nudged me closer to the microphone. I made a commitment to tutor Captain Gallo and did my best to spend any free time I had in the bridge improving his speaking skills, offering new vocabulary and building his confidence so one day he would step up to the microphone without fear and chant a flawless public announcement.

  Over time I learned more and more about Captain Gallo and slowly but surely his English improved. As a confidant of the Captain and protected under the auspices of King Gary, my life on the ship was cushy at best and privileged at worst. Everyone left me alone to do my job and as the weeks passed, I was amazed at the few hours I had to actually work. I showed up for my two activities per day, but was allowed to have leisure time similar to everyone else vacationing on the ship. When not working I did not have to wear a uniform and could enjoy the ship without being recognized as staff. I received a paycheck each week, money that seemed undeserving. Best of all I had little supervision under Gary who was too busy having a good time to monitor my whereabouts. As long as there were no major crises, Gary remained happy and rarely checked up on me. For the moment life was sweet.

  During the first couple of months on the ship, every friend and relative I talked to on the phone wanted to taste this good life. Somewhere in our phone conversations there would be a slight hesitation and I could just predict the question about to come out of their mouths."Hey man, can you get me a job on the ship?" or "Can you hook me up?" were the bluntest forms of inquiry followed by more subtle, "It must be fun out there, any chance you can find something for your Aunt Perle?" Everyone on land wants to be adrift at sea and many at sea, dream of being on land. It was the aquatic Murphy's law. I had to let these dreamers down gently but the truth was life at sea was not easy; in fact, the reality of working on a cruise ship was far from the fantasy that everyone creates in their minds. Most positions on a cruise ship were completely undesirable; in fact, they made Cinderella's job description look promising.

  Work was both tedious and time consuming. Lauren, a friend of mine from Trinidad, lived the typical cruise life, he vacuumed the same section of the ship each and every morning. By the time I was heading to sleep eleven or twelve hours later, I would still see him vacuuming the carpets. Lauren didn't speak English very well, but he always anxiously awaited conversation. We would talk about his family, gossip about the ship, but sometimes during the conversation his face would light up with a smile and he would ask me if I had any luck with the ladies. After a while I figured out what he was thinking about all those hours vacuuming. My position was the cream of the crop. Whereas, I had all the time in the world to enjoy the ports, most workers like Lauren were busy on the ship during these hours performing menial labor. Their lives were all work and little play.

  Lauren was lucky to get off the ship once a month; yet his time away was limited and he was only allowed about five hours off from his duties. The hours of my job depended heavily on whether the ship was at sea or docked at port. However, most employees continued to work, regardless of the location of the ship. Even in port the beds still had to be made and the hallways vacuumed. Once passengers left the ship I had all the free time in the world. I was allowed to go anywhere on the ship, but most staff were not permitted to be in passenger areas except when they were directly working there. Lauren worked his eleven to twelve hours and then immediately returned to the crew area.

  It is not surprising that few Americans are hired on these cruise ships. My guess is most would get off the ship after the first week. Many of the ship's employees were from the third world, largely Asia, Latin American and the Caribbean. Countries like India, El Salvador, Thailand, Jamaica led the parade of nations on the crew decks. These working conditions were familiar to them and in certain situations, life on this ship was more promising than their country of origin. Foreign workers felt powerless; sometimes their round trip tickets were held hostage by the cruise authorities in order to force them to stay longer. When I had been offered the job I bought my own ticket, an action that later on I would be very grateful for. For now I wasn't really thinking about returning home, I was enjoying my freedom, my rounds of golf on Caribbean courses, my free time watching movies, reading books and soaking in the sun.

  Yes, it was true I had to smile a lot and wear a uniform almost as tacky as Julie McCoy and yes, I had to inhale the pungent smell of beer as it streamed down peoples faces in the beer drinking competition and bounced its stinging way to my eyes. And stroking men's hairy chests in the weekly "Hairy Chest Competition" was not something my parents had aspired for me. Listening to Gary's repeated dialogue and shameless shenanigans was tiresome, but in the end I had a dream job, one that many coveted and one that really felt like a vacation. As long as I had the magical clipboard and microphone in my hand, life in the spotlight wasn't so bad. All I had to do was watch my fellow employees and realize I was a fortunate fellow.

  Crazy Cruise Trivia

  Did you know?

  A ship's registry tells little about it including where it is from. Often cruise ships have "flags of convenience" which means the ship's registry is a country with minimal or no taxes such as Liberia, Panama, Bahamas, Cyprus and Honduras:

  Chapter 4 Separate Lives

  Getting ready to go to bed one night, I had a strange feeling that the cruise ship had come to a complete stop, and an eerie silence hung over every corner of my cabin. Sleeping on a ship I had grown accustomed to the rhythmic sounds of the motors and engines, singing me to sleep each night like a mother's sweet lullaby. I was puzzled by the absence of song and knew something had happened or in the vernacular of the seas,"something had gone down." I picked up the phone and called Johnny. "What's going on dude?"

  "Check this out," he answered, bursting to reveal some kept secret. "A brawl broke out in the crew kitchen and some guy poured a pot of boiling water over some other guy's head." I knew tension existed between crew members but this sounded a bit bizarre."Yeah, Tracy saw the guy on the way to the infirmary, he was in fetal position screaming at the top of his lungs." His tone swayed between fascination and utter disgust, the way someone might describe meeting a two-headed cat or some other anomaly of nature. Rumor had it that these two crew members had been lovers, pure speculation but the National Enquirer hot gossip sold well on the ship and was a convenient antidote to boredom. Any tabloid could have set up shop on our ship, gossip was an appendage on every crew member's sleeve. I had heard of some pretty crazy rumors -- cut off penises, people thrown overboard, and love triangles turned bloody, but this was the first event I had witnessed up close and personal. Gay lovers, jealousy, hot water, and a cruise ship - it had all the ingredients of a raunchy novel or an Geraldo episode. The ship was close enough out of our last port that the Captain had decided to turn around and head back for emergency services.

  The kitchen staff involved in this fiasco were only two out of 800 employees aboard our cruise ship, all organized in different departments recognizable by their uniforms. One of the groups I had already become fa
miliar with were the officers of the ship, the royalty on this city at sea. The officers on the M.S. Ecstasy, like Captain Gallo, were all Italian and could be spotted instantly by their sparkling clean white uniforms juxtaposed with their dark Mediterranean skin and god-like good looks. Their responsibility was singular and unmatched, simply the awesome task of running the mechanics of a 70,000 ton ship and safeguarding the lives of over 2900 people. The top echelon of the officers club consisted of the Captain and his second in command, the Staff Captain. Captain Gallo, by now an English student of mine, was deeply respected by the crew and fawned upon by passengers who circled his presence in rock star fashion.

  As chief disciplinarian on the ship, or sea sheriff, as cruise staff liked to call him, Captain Gallo had the power to arrest anyone at any time and throw them into jail or the brig. The brig, located down on the corridor from where the dancers lived, was a continual site of fascination for crew members. Although at first glance the plain metal door blended seamlessly into the regular pattern of the hallway, a closer furtive look into the scratched circular window revealed a cramped cell complete with prison bars, a bare bed and a stiff metal chair.