(With apologies to Gilbert and Sullivan’s “HMS Pinafore”)
Photo courtesy
of Gloria Beck It’s wonderful to be away from
home. I enjoy being able to
explore new places with my
BFF’s, then knowing upon my
return, what a phenomenal place
I live in. If that doesn’t help you
enjoy life a little more, I don’t
know what will.
Every trip is a learning experience
and this one was a learning
experience in ways we didn’t anticipate.
Our Vicki (Mazel) became
“Victoria the Queen,” as per our
ship the “Queen Victoria.” She
learned to greet everyone with a
Queenly wave—Whatever that is!
Carol (Klinger) learned to put up
with our antics and I learned green
is not a good color for me, especially
when it becomes my complexion.
I have now discovered you must
take the Captain serious, when he
awakens you before breakfast and
announces, “We’re experiencing
rough seas today and I advise
everyone to use handrails whenever
they can.” Really? I didn’t
sign on for this! How rough was
it? Carol says I’m wimpy. As a former
boat owner, she’s a true sailor.
I’m more of a kvetch! What else
is new? Well for me, I now know
what it’s like to be the ball inside a
pinball machine. In the beginning,
I was laughing as I bounced off the
walls, but as it continued, it wasn’t
sooo funny anymore. My kishkas
were doing handstands.
After a while I decided to take
some Dramamine. One dose every
six hours was the recommendation.
Obviously, the instructions were
not for someone already roiling
in the North Atlantic. A whole
box would have been better. It
was like a scene out of “Victory
at Sea,” and every time the ship
pitched, the musical overture by
Richard Rodgers played over and
over in my head where my stomach
was now lodged. I took so much
Dramamine I couldn’t speak. I
could only answer questions by
blinking once for “yes” and twice
for “no.” At one point, when asked,
“Do you feel ok?”, I was too weak
to say, “Oy vey,” and too weak for
two blinks—I just moaned.
Believe it or not, when I heard
they were going to serve lobster
tails for dinner, I started to get my
energy back. Does eating a lobster
tail count as a cure for seasickness?
After all, that lobster was in worse
shape than I at that moment. I was
alive, and it was being served to me
on a dinner plate.
My recovery was quick, until we
had to re-cross the North Atlantic a
few days later. Carol said fresh air
would help me. Somehow leaning
over the railing and counting waves
wasn’t too helpful. But this time
I was better prepared. I’ve mentioned
time and time again, my
only maritime experience before
cruising was the Staten Island
Ferry. How come all those years
at sea in New York Harbor never
prepared me for this?
The Queen Victoria is a British
ship, and since we left out of
Southampton, most of the passengers
on board were Brits. After
being with them a month, I finally
started to understand what they
were saying. Our tablemates were
lovely, sometimes speaking slowly
enough for us to understand
them. Otherwise, I nodded a lot.
A positive did come out of so much
nodding: It was great therapy for
my neck.
The Brits had the nerve to say
we corrupted their English. I
don’t know how they could say
that! They understood me I didn’t
understand them. Where’s a New
Yawk accent when you need one?
I can’t tell you how many times I
asked someone to interpret the
menu, which bordered on obscene.
Do you know what a skink is? Is
that the animal with a white stripe
down it’s back? How about roast
breasts of squab pigeon? We have
plenty pigeons walking the streets
of New York. Eating one? Ich!
Here’s one which would get me
arrested in New York: a pudding
named spotted dick. Do I need a
doctor’s approval before I consume
it? My culinary skills are awful, but
I couldn’t wait to get back home
to my sweet little kitchen. Buffy
help me!!!
I can say only one thing about
English tea. Yuck! I can use a
teabag over and over before it gets
the right flavor, but this tea was so
strong my spoon disintegrated as
I was stirring. Is this what started
a rebellion in our country with
the Boston Tea party? I’m sure it
wasn’t the taxes. One dip of the
tea bag was a killer for me. Can
you imagine it steeped?! To those
who love English tea, forgive me.
Let’s see, the seas were rough,
the food was challenging and now
for my last kvetch… the bathrooms.
The staterooms are manageable, if
you’re a size 2 or good at walking
sideways. But I must tell you how
adorable the bathrooms were,
especially if you had a dollhouse
to put them in. Ours would have fit
perfectly. There was a message over
the toilet which said, “Close the lid
before you flush and do not flush
while sitting down.” The sound of
the flush was so strong it made the
bathroom shake. At first I thought a
lion was trapped in there and roaring
to get out. One time I didn’t
close the lid all the way before I
flushed and the polish was sucked
off my fingernails. Can you imagine
sitting? It probably would turn you
inside out. That would take care of
all my wrinkles. In reality, the bathroom
was safe—it was too small to
fall down in. You could only fall in
a standing position.
At the end of my vacation, when
I reflected on where I’d been,
what I’d done and who I shared
my trip with, I knew my travel
mates were special and the best.
Honestly, this adventure was truly
exhilarating and I cannot wait for
my next one. However, I’m afraid
I’m really becoming the “Qveen of
Kvetching,” but I assure you it’s in
a loving way. I can’t help it. I think
it’s in my genetic makeup.
As they said after each show
on the ship, “Cheerio!” Or was
it “Cheerios!”? I’m not sure, but
either way, it was fun.
WHEE SAIL THE
OCEAN BLUE
NST Druids Carol Klinger, Gloria Beck & Vicki Mazel
20 NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER ¢ September 2018