Rolling Down to Old Maui
Nov. 30th, 2004 10:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
billroperActually, we were Rocking and Rolling Down to Old Maui tonight. At some point after our scenic cruising of the inaccessible -- but darned pretty -- cliffs of Kauai, we found ourselves back in force 7 winds and the Statendam was definitely rocking and rolling. A lot.
By the time we got to dinner at 9 PM, walking a straight line across the dining room was becoming problematic. Eating dinner was possible, but the motion of the ocean was making enjoying the dining experience even more problematic. But I've been taking my seasickness pills every morning whether I thought I needed them or not and they came in really handy as I chewed slowly and carefully, occasionally with my eyes closed. Carol commented that I must be really enjoying my steak. "No," I replied. "Just trying to make sure that I get to keep it."
Fortunately, I did. Maybe I'm getting used to this. I hope so, because in a couple of days, we'll have five days of open seas on our way back to San Diego with no land for relief. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
After dinner, we decided to head back to the room so we could get to bed early and get on a tender to Maui at a reasonable hour. Unfortunately, the best laid plans of mice and men were about to take a beating.
We were lying there relaxing and flipping between channels on the TV when the lights over the bed and in the bathroom went out again, right around 11 PM. I called the Front Office and they sent the Night Steward who verified that, yes, our lights had failed again. He called the Front Office back and asked them to send someone to do something about it.
About 10 minutes later, the lights came back on. Unfortunately, they only came on for about 30 seconds and then went out again. I waited a minute or two to see if anything else happened and, when it didn't, called the Front Office again to let them know that we were still sans lights. They said they'd check with the electrician.
While waiting, we flipped channels on the TV and eventually found "Miracle", a movie about the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team, which I found to be the most interesting thing to watch. Of course, I have some marginal interest in hockey. Gretchen doesn't. And she really wanted to go to sleep, but I wanted to resolve the lights issue before going to bed, since I wanted to be able to see in the bathroom when I -- inevitably -- made a pilgrimage there during the night. (I'm picky that way.)
I called the Front Office a couple of more times and the poor woman at the desk told me that she'd notified her supervisor. Finally, it was 1 AM. The U.S. had beaten the Soviet team and we still didn't have any lights when I finally got a call back from the supervisor. She'd reported the problem to the electrician, but I reported that nothing was happening. "Could I have a flashlight so I can see what I'm doing in the bathroom?"
"A flashlight?"
"Yes, a flashlight."
A few minutes later, the Night Steward brought the flashlight down and we went to bed.
At promptly 7:30 AM, Gretchen's alarm went off and all of the lights came back on.
I don't know. Maybe it was union work rules or something.
(Actually, comparing notes today with Jeff, Carol, and Jerry, it seems that Jerry had lost the other lights circuit in his room, while Jeff and Carol had lost the same circuit that we had and had had to deal with the same level of entertainment in the bathroom.
We're thinking somebody, somewhere has plugged something into the wall outlet that has no business being on this circuit. Now, we just need to find them and kill them. Man overboard!)
By the time we got to dinner at 9 PM, walking a straight line across the dining room was becoming problematic. Eating dinner was possible, but the motion of the ocean was making enjoying the dining experience even more problematic. But I've been taking my seasickness pills every morning whether I thought I needed them or not and they came in really handy as I chewed slowly and carefully, occasionally with my eyes closed. Carol commented that I must be really enjoying my steak. "No," I replied. "Just trying to make sure that I get to keep it."
Fortunately, I did. Maybe I'm getting used to this. I hope so, because in a couple of days, we'll have five days of open seas on our way back to San Diego with no land for relief. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
After dinner, we decided to head back to the room so we could get to bed early and get on a tender to Maui at a reasonable hour. Unfortunately, the best laid plans of mice and men were about to take a beating.
We were lying there relaxing and flipping between channels on the TV when the lights over the bed and in the bathroom went out again, right around 11 PM. I called the Front Office and they sent the Night Steward who verified that, yes, our lights had failed again. He called the Front Office back and asked them to send someone to do something about it.
About 10 minutes later, the lights came back on. Unfortunately, they only came on for about 30 seconds and then went out again. I waited a minute or two to see if anything else happened and, when it didn't, called the Front Office again to let them know that we were still sans lights. They said they'd check with the electrician.
While waiting, we flipped channels on the TV and eventually found "Miracle", a movie about the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team, which I found to be the most interesting thing to watch. Of course, I have some marginal interest in hockey. Gretchen doesn't. And she really wanted to go to sleep, but I wanted to resolve the lights issue before going to bed, since I wanted to be able to see in the bathroom when I -- inevitably -- made a pilgrimage there during the night. (I'm picky that way.)
I called the Front Office a couple of more times and the poor woman at the desk told me that she'd notified her supervisor. Finally, it was 1 AM. The U.S. had beaten the Soviet team and we still didn't have any lights when I finally got a call back from the supervisor. She'd reported the problem to the electrician, but I reported that nothing was happening. "Could I have a flashlight so I can see what I'm doing in the bathroom?"
"A flashlight?"
"Yes, a flashlight."
A few minutes later, the Night Steward brought the flashlight down and we went to bed.
At promptly 7:30 AM, Gretchen's alarm went off and all of the lights came back on.
I don't know. Maybe it was union work rules or something.
(Actually, comparing notes today with Jeff, Carol, and Jerry, it seems that Jerry had lost the other lights circuit in his room, while Jeff and Carol had lost the same circuit that we had and had had to deal with the same level of entertainment in the bathroom.
We're thinking somebody, somewhere has plugged something into the wall outlet that has no business being on this circuit. Now, we just need to find them and kill them. Man overboard!)