Cruise Control

We are closing in on that time of year when we reflect on the struggles and hardships that befell our Puritan ancestors on their tumultuous voyage to the New World. After sixty-six days at sea, many poor souls had succumbed to disease, and two in their company had died. Initially all of them were to make the trip in two ships, but when the Speedwell was found to be less than seaworthy, everyone was crowded onto the larger Mayflower, and off they went. Inclement weather kept them from arriving at their destination until winter had come to Cape Cod, where the waters became even more treacherous. This was no pleasure cruise.
Three hundred and ninety years later, the brave souls who set sail from Long Beach on the Carnival Splendor experienced many of the same travails as our forefathers. A fire in the engine room broke out one day into their journey down the coast of Mexico, and the forty-five hundred souls aboard were left without lights or hot water for days as the Coast Guard worked to rescue them from their floating nightmare. One passenger described her torment, saying that she wanted nothing to do with the cold sandwiches and salads that were offered up by the crew, and that she had been subsisting mainly on Pop Tarts. Another lamented the four days he had survived without a hot cup of coffee. No shuffleboard on the Lido Deck. No frozen daiquiris poolside, served by Isaac your bartender. None of this was in the brochure. As the survivors of the S.S. Minnow once opined, "No phones, no lights, no motor cars, not a single luxury."
One thing is certain: Those who disembarked in San Diego will have stories to tell their grandchildren. Unless they were forced to eat them.