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Cruisers & Losers: NCL Gem Part 3

Day 1 Pt 2: First Day Impressions

Finally aboard the Gem, we made our way to lunch post haste. The wait had taken more resources than a large bag of fun sized bagged snacks could ever hope to replenish. As shrewd travelers, we had long since made our plan of first day attack, our place of dinning as per my insistence was paramount in those considerations. Knowing that the lure of the buffet would work its sirens call on the uninitiated and child weighted families aboard, we decided that our destination would therefore be the Grand Pacific dining room. As predicted it was barren upon arrival and we were quickly seated near the rear window to look upon the dreary weather we would soon leave far to the aft.

Our waitress took our orders promptly and soon we were joined by more and more fellow cruisers. A family of four was seated next to us; a pair of sisters and their daughters. They asked us where we were from and if we had cruised before, the usual small talk as we waited for our meals. Once our appetizers had arrived and we began to eat however, one of the women at the adjacent table called for the waiter. She asked if there were animal product based ingredients used in her appetizer. There were as she had ordered the tartare. The woman then said boldly, unapologetically and righteously that she was a vegan and if she could speak to someone about the dining room menu. With that, the waiter said that he would return and did so with a man clothed in the navy blue finery of a supervisory position. The supervisor assured the woman that a fitting substitute could be found, even going so far as to offer her his extension should she have need of any accommodations not within the standard menu as provided. Satisfied, the woman thanked both the waiter and his supervisor, before deciding to just take some of the chicken nachos from her red faced daughters plate...chicken nachos...

The welcome aboard show wouldn't be for a few hours and by the time we had finished our lunch, the cabins were ready. We had chosen to get a suite near the elevators for ease of access. The room was cramped, we had never sailed without a porthole window, the absence of which was a bit disorienting. I made sure to keep my Casio close at hand so as not to lose track of the daylight. We took a short nap until the sound of our cruise director, a man named Mark came over the speakers telling us that we would need to participate in the mandatory life boat drill. At this point in my cruising career, I must say I find the process a bit unnecessary. I am well aware of when the time has come to spring into action in an emergency. Not to sound elitist, but after two long years of die hard loyalty to NCL, I have achieved silver latitude status and am well on my way to gold. Leave such trivialities to the bronze. With a sigh upon the buzzing of the international distress alarm, we made our way to assembly station G2 AKA Magenta. Crew members seemed to have difficulty gaining the rooms attention as it took fifteen minutes of repeated sweeps by staff to get passengers to shut off their cellular devices. Once all was in order, I watched the demonstration put on by the highly energetic ship staff, eager to dispense concise information should the unthinkable and unlikely occur.

The ship had pulled out of port with a rocky start, the skies dark and weeping. It would be a while before the welcome aboard show set the stage for the weeks entertainment. A storm was brewing on the horizon and the Gem sailed defiantly forward, day ones itinerary still well intact.

Indeed ragincajun76 we did make use of the park and cruise. We left for the peer at 10 and arrived about 15 minutes later. I would say that over all it was a good investment. Although we were a bit on edge from the ride itself, there was no anxiety about making the boat on time.

Cruisers & Losers: NCL Gem Part 2

Day 1 pt 1: Embarkation

The first day had officially began. Still a bit tired from the trip in, and the questionable accommodations of the hotel, we met our driver. He was an older gentleman of slight build, but insisted on taking our bags and opening the door for us. For this I was relieved, as I didn't feel like doing such things myself as I was on vacation. After several minutes of struggling with the cases, he entered the drivers seat and pulled away from the curb, our destination the sea port. I think that it is important to note that I am a man of Rhode Island, and in the ocean state we take pride in our cautious approach to the road; obeying laws and being considerate of our fellow drivers. I don't fault the gentleman driving, but I will say that the line between New York and "Little Rhody" in terms of vehicular operations is stark indeed.

The man weaved in and out of traffic as my stomach leaped about wildly to and fro. He darted along the lower part of the GW bridge, and then with whipping force, down the Hudson toward our destiny. My wife gripped my wrist as we narrowly avoided cars, trucks and mini vans. The ride itself couldn't have been more than ten minutes, when by all rights it was suited for twenty. At last we reached the port. We exited the sedan, pulses racing. The driver struggled to get our bags, this time I did assist. I gave an abnormally generous tip of precisely one fat Lincoln and thanked god that we had survived.

The sky was grim as we walked into the port. A line was formed and ran to the door. This is a common occurrence as you my dear fellow travelers know. However, the embarkation process was slow... painfully slow. Perhaps it was a staffing issue, perhaps it was the ill preparedness of the uninitiated sea fairer. I know not, in any event we stood in line for hours as the herd grind'd unsteadily forward. I grew weak with hunger and fought to unzip my carry on for the blessed relief of a packaged snack. My ankles ached under the harsh burden of stagnation and the growing ireful chatter of my cruising contemporaries. At long last it was our turn.

The woman serving us, it would seem, was fed up with the last party she was with, leaving us to take the critical fall out. She gave us a once over and said "Documentation please." Seasoned as we were, it was already in hand. The young woman looked over the papers and our state issued id's, as she struck hatefully at the keyboard before her. We then had our pictures taken for general ship purposes such as shore excursions, and the well exercised yet shrewd use of the glorious drink package. During this interaction I noted several huffs and one full blown eye roll. At last, we were ushered through to have our cruise photo's taken before moving directly onto the ship, as our group number was called long before us. A bit tired, but hopeful we made our way up the ramp to the ship for a much anticipated first day aboard the Norwegian Gem... as the rain began to fall with a steady fierce momentum...

Pre Cruise Hotel

After a great deal of positive feed back from my Breakaway review, I felt it was my duty as a member of this illustrious community of world travelers and salty seamen, to continue the chronicling of my experiences upon the high seas. This time, my wife and I decided to leave the children be and venture forth into a world tossed frivolously aside in the heat of ignorant youth; the blissful realm of the unencumbered, childless couple. For this excursion into the mist of the past, we chose in light of the previous debacle aboard the Breakaway, to book passage aboard the Norwegian Gem from May 13th until the 20th of that same month.

We decided to splurge a bit and flee our lives a day early, dropping the children off with the in-laws and getting a hotel in New Jersey just across the water from the big apple via the George Washington bridge. And, to follow in the exemplary foot steps of our first commander and chief, I can not tell a lie; It is far less glamorous on the other side of the Hudson. We arrived at the Hilton Garden Inn at Ridgefield Park. We went to the desk to check in and book a time for the limo service to usher us to the port in the morning. The young woman working the desk seemed surprised that we were asking about the onsite parking and cruise port transit. With very flat affect she handed a paper to fill out to cement a departure time. We wished to arrive at the port at 11am, but the form was unclear on whether the time section meant the time of departure from the hotel or the time we wished to arrive at the ship. When we asked for clarification, she simply said "Oh yeah, just write 10".

Exhausted from a brutal drive along congested highways that stretched the time of arrival from three to four and finally five hours, as the discount android Siri continuously informed us that we were on the fastest route despite mounting 20+ minute delays. So, we signed and took our bags to the room for a brief siesta in a soft bed in a quiet room. Well the bed was soft enough.

It was approximately 6:08 Casio time when I first heard the sound of something slamming loudly against the wall opposite our bed. At first I thought someone had closed a draw forcefully or leaned too hard against the bed post on the other side of the wall. Then I heard it again, and again, and again louder and louder, with rising momentum. If there had been any doubt at that time about the cause of the disturbance it was abated with the sporadic burst of obscene sounds and language coming from the couple next door. Thoroughly offended and brought to awkward stunned discomfort, we decided about twenty minutes in that we would seek a dinner option and leave the room promptly.

Looking at the possibilities we settled on White Castle. I had heard tales told of the small steamed burger offerings of NJ, but had yet to indulge. We arrived at the fast food chain unknown in our native land of New England. I was very hungry after the ride in and look immediately for an order to fit the bill of an LSA man such as myself (Large Sized American). I ordered the number 9 which was 20 burgers with two fries and two onion rings. We sat down in the nearly empty restaurant dividing the food at our usual 2 to 1 ratio. Let me say if you are not a native of NJ White Castle is a mixed blessing. I found the burgers delicious...maybe a little too delicious, even as I type these words my mouth waters. I can hear the NJ siren calling me back to the castle walls...

After finishing the meal and ordering some more to go. We headed back, certain that the two next door occupants had spent their energy and would thus allow us a good night sleep, that we might awaken refreshed for our day of embarkation. The next morning, we woke early and went downstairs to await our limo. The driver arrived taking the bags from us and threw them in the trunk of a large sedan ushering us in quickly, then pulling away from the curb with a sharp jerk toward the seaport and the official start of our vacation.

Day 8 Debarking: And so at last it had come to an end.We had decided to take our own bags so that we could leave first thing. I awoke bright and early to wander my way to the Garden Cafe to get a cup of Nojo and look out at New York City from the lofty vantage of deck 15. The air was chilled and full of conflict. Things had not gone at all as planned. However, was it really all that terrible...yes, yes it was.

I am a large middle aged man who goes to a soulless desk job everyday, saving and cutting corners for that one go at forgetting the laundry list of personal and financial failings that I have accrued over a lifetime. I had to pay strangers to right me in a motorized scooter on an island I never intended to set wheels on! I had to peel crapes off my backside. I had to explain to Mrs Andrews why my children were carrying around invisible "appendages" in the middle of third block. Now I know, safety first, sailing into the path of a hurricane would have made the trip far less pleasant, but sigh. Norwegian can't control the weather no, but they can make a decision and send an email. Norwegian can't magically open a variety of port options at the drop of a hat, but they can ensure they don't contract unicorn ruffians.

With that final purely objective critique, I would like to take a moment to address three topics which I must say, fail to receive adequate coverage on these here forums. Smoking, Nickel & Diming and the obscene absence of lobster.

Smoking: I myself am no longer a smoker. When my children were born I took it upon myself to end that habit. How ironic that I would choose to do so at the very dawn of chaos. But I did. Though I no longer smoke, I found the near literal caging and segregation of smokers to be disturbing. Such forced separation seemed like a shamming tactic pushed by the left leaning socialist who fill the halls of my work place. As a red blooded American it was my choice to start as it was to quit. A choice that can be, nor should be, anyone elses. This enforced health or die fascism must come to an end before we are all transformed into mindless meat puppets.

Nickel & Diming: A tin cup for a pina colada, just a few more dollars? A cabin can have no more than one bulk purchased beach towel per occupant? If you do not return the bulk purchased beach towel, a 25 dollar charge will added? These are but a couple. I ran into an assortment of "friendly reminders" and "by the way" statements through out the cruise, perhaps it was a way to prepare us for the Nassau market place. Oh, but if the lessons were intentional, they wouldn't have been free.

Lobster: Sea Food night at the Garden Cafe. I was excited, I bet I wasn't the only one. I had stopped over at Red Lobster on the way into NYC from Rhode Island and kept a logo emblazoned bib. I put that bib on as I rode the elevator to the 15th floor. Sure others would have their Norwegian counter parts. Mine, however, would act as a flag of our New England origins. The first evidence of trouble should have been clear with the obvious lack of bibage as I rolled through the glass doors. I grabbed a plate and passed the usual evening offerings. To these options Norwegian added a salmon roll, mussels and Chowda. I took none of these as I wanted to save my plate for the main event, the lobster. No, you didn't miss it...it wasn't there.

With that this cruise review comes to an end. Debarking was quick, and I found it easy to get off. We went into the terminal, waited in line, were cleared as US citizens and set loose into the early New York morning...

Finding our family SUV, we tossed in the bags and pulled away on route back to RI and the six encroaching months of New England Winter. I would like to thank you all for your kind response to this thread. It made me think of all the other disappointments in life and how they too could use a voice. Therefore, I have taken it upon myself to be said voice.

To this end, I have begun a life style blog;

http://thecriticalbrow.blogspot.com/

Day 7 Freestyle: The last full day of a cruise or any trip for that matter is one of trepidation for what awaits you once you disembark? The very things that prompted a retreat to begin with. I could almost see my computer monitor mocking me upon return; an ever-present reminder of short comings fool choices and wasted potential. Sigh. We had seen the shows, watched the events put on by the cruise staff, and made responsible use of the drink package. Now, all that was left to do was take a final look around the ship. We played some games of chance in the casino, toured the Peter Max and friend’s art gallery and even caught a bit of the piano and vocal stylings of Manny. It was announced at the end of the final performance of Burn the Floor that one Carla Stickler would be giving an open-door performance on the last night.

She is known for her role in “Wicked” which was a play on events taking place between the witches of Oz. I’ve never seen it nor truly cared to. I think I got about enough during Carla’s performance. She sung a few from that production as well as some random throw ins. The performance was a bit manic for my taste and to be honest Carla herself seemed a bit crazy. I guess that anyone who would leave for New York to sing on Broadway is likely a bit compromised, but I have a sense for these things, this young woman struck me as Glenn Close Fatal Attraction crazy. Even this however did not make her performance very memorable. It was loud, it was music., it was crazy and then it was over. Thank god.

It was at this point that one of the biggest highlights of the cruise took place. The show had ended…or so I thought and then from stage left Dan Dan took the spot light. He began to go over how great it was to sail with all of us. POPPYCOCK!! I sailed with all of us as well and was none too impressed. He dropped a few jokes to bring the audience back from the precipice of madness and then he began to sing. Dan Dan I have to say stole the bread right out of Carla’s mouth. This man of small stature and boundless charm sang with all his heart, enough that for the briefest of moments, I did believe he felt it was great to sail with us. At that point another Cruise staff, whose name escapes me, joined in duet adding a counter weight to the power of Dan Dan.

The duo was joined on stage by the captain and the other officers aboard. Following this came the room stewards and the bar folk. The whole performance ended with the stage being cleared and the hall outside the theater filling with the ships staff. As I rolled away, I saw Dan Dan and I just had to get a selfie. Unfortunately, my arms don’t stretch out far enough to get both myself and another in frame. No worries though, Dan Dan’s did and that picture now acts as both background and screen saver on my hateful work PC. With that the seventh day soon came to a close. We headed off to bed after a final go about and a frosty mango melt down. Tomorrow New York debarking and final thoughts

(To be Continued)

Day 6 The Noodle Bar: I could not believe I had nearly missed the Shanghai Noodle Bar. Nestled in the heart of the 7th deck amidst the high stakes and low pay outs of the Casino, the Shanghai Noodle Bar offered entree's steeped in east Asian mystique. The kids decided to go off to play some air hockey at O'Sheenans, so it was just me and the Mrs. We arrived at Shanghai's at around 9:17 pm and were immediately seated, it seemed an unprecedented bit of luck.

I pulled over and stepped off my scooter as the bar was comprised of close quarters seating that could not accommodate a motorized chariot. To be candid, the arrangement barely accommodated me. I struggled past the seated customers who were unable, or perhaps unwilling, to adjust their position. Many leaned in, sighing and grumbling. Sorry, not everyone is a size 2, perhaps some people should try to act their age and not their dress size.

Once at our appointed seats my wife was able to mount very easily. I however had difficulty getting up onto the stool and needed to use the bar for balance. Once situated, I found the small wooden seats to be of insufficient size, and struggled uncomfortably throughout the meal. We waited nearly 5 minutes before being acknowledged due in part to a party of loud middle aged men who seemed to have broken loose from their wives. The men insisted on taking selfies with the staff, who were most accommodating, but left the rest of us hungry.

In the time it took to be waited on, we were able to peruse the odd menu. It was a list of items each with a check box which we were to fill out with a short bingo game pencil. I decided that I wanted two servings of egg rolls, two servings of the Dim Sum and a bowl of spicy hot squid/octopus and noodles. My wife also went with the egg rolls and a serving of Dim Sum. When the man who would wait on us finally arrived he looked at the order and than at me. "You do know that each order of egg rolls comes with two right?" he asked, I said "Even better." He raised an eyebrow and left to put the orders in. I would like to say, that as an LSA (Large Sized American for those not in the know), I often am given a stink eye when I order, as though they are shocked that that a man of my magnitude would eat two orders of two egg rolls.

While we waited, I looked out over the Casino, more specifically the card tables. I noted that a sullen looking woman, dressed in full white wedding gown sat and played with what I assumed was some of her wedding party. I had to hand it to her, with the luck of having a completely botched itinerary, rough seas and sub par entertainment, she had some stones gambling. I wished her the best, but since my own personal wishes fell flat, it seemed an exercise in futility.

At long last our food arrived, the noodle bar provides disposable chopsticks to dine with. I simply used my hands for the egg rolls as did my wife. However, the Dim sum, piping hot and soft, provided an unwelcome challenge. Soft and beef stuffed they tore apart with my less than expert use of the chopsticks. With my limited dexterity, my hands were just not up to the task. When the soup came out, the waiter smiled and said "This should help." It was a spoon.

A spoon, for noodles, squid and octopus. I only tried the spoon for a go or two before relenting. I ate what I could with the chopsticks, as I listened to the poorly suppressed giggles of the staff behind the bar. Though there remained an appreciable amount of Octosquid in my bowl, it wasn't worth the struggle. We soon left the bar and collected the children. We called it an early night returning to the cabin to watch a bit of the celebrity dance off on the ships looped channel. Tomorrow would be the last full day aboard the Breakaway...

(To be continued)

Day 6 Burn the Floor: Of all the performances that were offered on the Breakaway, I must say that by far, Burn the Floor was the one I looked forward to the most. Where as I found Rock of Ages to be crude in the extreme, and I wish to speak no further of the events which took place at the Cirque Dreams Jungle Adventure dinner, this performance promised to set the Broadway gold standard that I had been thus far denied. After a brief stop over at O'Sheenans, we went to the Breakaway theater one half hour early to find prime seating.

The theater rocked briskly back and forth as the ship had reached turbulent waters once more. I felt my stomach rising and crashing with the waves. I then regretted that 4th Chicago style hotdog. The show began and the dancers took the stage. Here is my review of said performance:

Androgynous men engaged in bare chested face offs. Spicy Salsa dances that attempted to titillate the senses, but fell sadly short, and some all in all average vocals. I must say I was a bit disappointed at the lack of cohesion. The dance performances seemed to follow no overarching theme and were reminiscent of a middle school recital with a higher budget and a greater penchant for pageantry. There was no narrative to follow, it jumped from 1920's flapper ware to full on shirts vs skins show downs. I was half expecting one side to proclaim that the other "got served."

Though not the heart stopping, mind blowing work of vision I went through the doors expecting, the show was at least not lewd. I have received no calls from the school to suggest otherwise. When it was over, we left. The night was still in its infancy when I realized that tomorrow would be the last day, and I had yet to try the noodle bar. I wiped my brow (figuratively speaking) and we made a plan to go to the noodle bar to enjoy some culinary delights from the far east. We set out for the Casino anticipating what would no doubt prove to be a culturally enlightening experience...

(to be continued)

Day 6 Bizarre Bazaar: On day six we attended Burn the Floor, but before I give my thoughts on the performance, I would like to make mention of something I found quite unsettling. It happened toward the hour of 3 pm on the 6th day. I decided that I would again visit O'Sheenans for a quick mid after noon meal. However before this I thought why not take a gander at the items in the tax and duty free shops. I heard that there were Fossil, Rolex and an assortment of other fine wrist ware for the discerning gentleman.

I thought I would browse a bit, though I was quite satisfied with my Cassio water proof 2 alarm time piece, I found it was good to remind it now and again that I had other options. As I approached I was bedazzled by the number of patrons. So full were the halls, that I may have ran a foot or two over in my hasty pursuit of savings...

The customer service reps were hard at work selling 75% off $10,000 watches. The savings were fantastic if one were a 10k watch aficionado. To the common uncouth however, even this deep discount was still a bit steep . It was as if the creators of Rolex laughed riotously from their Olympian heights at the common man's inability to gain entry into their elite clockwork brotherhood, even with a 75% discounted olive branch. I rolled on. I tried to push my way through the crowd shouting "move!" and "get out of the way" as tactfully as I could, but the ambiance of chatters and shouts drowned out my own. I received several elbows, some I dare say were intentional! The sheer inconsideration of some people! Finally on the other side I saw the elevators. I stopped and pressed the down button, and waited and waited...

Day 5 Junkanoo Beach: Jankanoo beach, a place that surely would live up to its name. As we neared the edge of the cracked side walk, narrowly avoiding a toppled post, we were immediately set upon by several local "merchants." These individuals drew our attention by saying "Norwegian over here." For the briefest of moments I wondered if they were employed by the ship, but the Budweiser t-shirt and flip flop combo quickly dissolved that notion.

The first sales pitch was that beach chairs and two drinks would be provided for one fat Lincoln! I was fresh out of Lincolns from my last exchange and was unwilling to part with his larger brothers. We moved past doing the universal blow off wave as we did. No sooner than we moved by the first man, did a second appear and tell us that for five dollars, he could secure a prime section of beach! Again, I displayed the sign of disinterest and moved a bit further up the shoreline. I could see that there was a small bar accessible (well, not handi accessible of course) from the beach, not unexpected. What did surprise me was a shack with the word "Massage" Painted on its side. It brought to mind Lucy's "Psychiatric Help" booth in the Peanuts comic strips. No doubt the big man running it had equally dubious credentials. Though I did consider taking my chances, as surely it would be my best chance on shore for a happy ending.

Instead though, we rolled out the towels and settled in to make the best of things once more. I put on my spf and goggles, should the sun make a guest appearance, and laid back. The children first began to play in the sand as it was like powder which, as we had not until this point been to a beach outside of RI, boggled their childish minds. That is until they found a disturbing remnant of death. I heard the scream and leaped up, looking for its source. It would seem the children had dug up what looked like bones of some medium sized bird or small sized land beast. It was difficult to tell which, as the remains were desiccated and frail. After a few minutes of deep breathing and the removal of the body, the day went on. It wasn't long before we all decided to test the waters so to speak. He grabbed our snorkels and set off. I stepped in first, putting all my weight on my leading foot into the cloudy water. I let out an audible cry as I felt the jagged sharpness of the shore bed. Reaching down I sifted through the murk and pulled up a handful of tiny pieces. I'm not sure whether they were coral or strangely formed stones, nor do I care. Fortunately we brought our water shoes as well, we fitted them and then waded into the waves. The water was naturally warm as opposed to the questionable warmth of a pool. We floated and splashed forcefully as the striking of the water was somehow cathartic, and under five dollars. We remained at Junkanoo until the sun grew dangerously low on the horizon, at which point we got out and went to find our belongings which were still where we left them, bonus.

Drying off we were soon back on our way to the ship. I rolled along the side walk and was met with a previously unheard of and unimaginable product. A Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robins served Rum cake! My mind spun with the implications. If Nassau has a rum cake at its Dunkins, than who knows what other yet to be explored Dunkin items lay scattered about the globe. Dunkin sashimi in Japan perhaps? Dunkin pickled herring in Sweden? Oh the possibilities, however as the suggestion to make it on board before the darkness fell was at the forefront of my thoughts, I sadly had to pass up the rum cake...rum cake...like the rum cake at the Naval Dockyards in Bermuda...I grumbled and put my foot to the peddle, pushing the scooter to a near 4 mph and watched in my side mirror as Junkanoo beach slowly, slowly faded into memory. I soon reached the end of the side walk, so filled with the brief spike in anger provoked adrenaline I decided I would just keep going...

I will not say here how much it cost to have Jeffrey and his associates right my scooter, suffice it to say I did not have enough left that day to leave Nassau with braids.

(to be continued)

Day 5 Nassau Part Deux: Before beginning my families harrowing tale of a self guided excursion to the island of Nassau, I must take a step back and speak first and briefly of the Breakaways port informative power point presentation put on by one of the members of the Excursions desk. This presentation took place before we arrived at Cape Canaveral. I failed to mention it then, as the information pertaining to our stop in Cape Canaveral was merely a corporate regurgitation of exciting commercials depicting the ecstatic faces of families visiting Disney attractions and Universal theme park rides. A level of euphoria which we, in our rushed state, would not likely achieve. Though dripping of shameless commercialism, these videos were at least present. The information on Nassau, seemed more like a veiled warning. We were told things by the attending Excursion rep such as "If you get into a cab, be very very specific about the exact price you are willing to pay" and "I have heard people saying that Nassau is a dangerous place, this is not so." but than soon following with. "Be sure to stay together." and "Try to be back to the ship before sun down." The rep went on to say that there was a local beach that was in walking distance of the ship. He pointed it out to us on a map, a beach called Junkanoo...JUNKanoo. Seriously!? I don't know what the definition is for the word Junkanoo in Nassauese, but in American English, it sounded like a poor attempt at humor! When I realized that he was indeed serious, I stood up and took one of the available maps and walked back to my scooter waiting outside the Breakaway theater entrance. From there, I went to the Atrium to select one of my several reserved luxury chairs in which to ruminate darkly on the changed itinerary. (For more information on how to secure your very own luxury seat for dark brooding, please see my earlier posts).

Nassau Market Place: We entered the debarking line and were soon in the tropical climes of Nassau, which too were under the pinning thumb of a cloudy sky. Between the Dockyard and the beach, was an unavoidable stretch of small booths and shacks. The Nassau Market had many bobbles and trinkets as well as many people willing to take group photos or braid hair for a price. Now, there is nothing wrong with entrepreneurial zeal, however, it got to be a bit much and a bit unsettling. Braid hair for a pittance, yes, but when a large man comes to the edge of a side walk which, by the way, none in Nassau seem handy accessible. It is a bit exploitative to charge that man 5 dollars to life him out of the street!! The young man who offered said his name was Jeffrey and when I waved him off and continued on, he said, with a sinister edge I must add "I'll be here" and he was, every step of the way. After I narrowly avoided an oncoming van for the second time, I relented and paid up. Jeffrey lifted the front end of my scooter onto the the side walk, but had trouble with the rear wheels. He called over another young man, but told me he too would need 5 dollars. Exasperated and wanting simply to get on with my six hours or sunset, whichever came first, excursion I doled out another yet another Lincoln. The other young man aided Jeffrey, but though they managed to lift the back wheels, the two of them couldn't quite get me over the curb. Another 5 dollars later, three locals managed to raise me out of traffic. I rolled onward as fast as the small motor could carry me. My family had moved ahead. I don't think they even noted my absence. The streets of Nassau were filed with trash bags and many hazards such as rushed open metal plates on the side walks, toppled street lights barely marked by caution tape, and treacherous puddles. I rolled on and soon caught up to the family. There, about 40 feet away I saw the sign for "Junkanoo Beach" I sighed relief in at last reaching a point of rest. The blue waters of the Caribbean would, I had hoped, prove to be a pleasant and rejuvenating oasis in a desert waste...but rather, it would prove to be no more than a tormenting illusion.

(To be continued)

Day 5 Nassau part 1: The first thing that I saw of Nassau, was a formation that I can only describe as a small island composed of welded rusty barrels. I raised a critical brow, as I watched this unsightly monument. I went back through the sliding glass door of deck 7, trying my damnedest to reserve judgement, but faltering at best. We were docked in short order. My family and I went to our decidedly favored dining option, O'Sheehan's. For the Garden Cafe was at best a last resort. We were seated relatively quickly and from the window I could see a neighboring Carnival ship. In the distance as well, I saw the grandeur of Atlantis rising up high above the shantied hovels of the main stretch. The setup was like every Sci-fi pictures "original" movie written about a dystopian future where the line between the haves and have not's is etched inviolably in the sand. When the waiter arrived, I ordered a barrage of wieners, hoping that indulging in Nathan's sausagey goodness, would work to put my mind at ease. Alas, it did not. After our brief lunch, we awaited the PA debarking call scheduled for 3ish pm. Again we gathered our items, a beach bag filled with snorkel gear and the like. The announcement came and we entered the line. My legs were still aching from our time on Cocoa Beach, so I opted to take a scooter on shore... oh what a fool i was.

Day 4 Cape Canaveral, back on board: Once back on the ship, I sighed deeply looking out the port side window as I sat atop the one queen sized bed crafted seamlessly of two twin sized beds. Tomorrow would be day 5, Nassau. Before that though, we decided to attend the all ages improv show done by Second City. It was quite funny (and age appropriate). I especially liked how the comedy team incorporated on-ship references such as "washy washy" as well as what seemed to be genuine disgust for the ships itinerary alterations. An approach which I could get fully behind. Well played Second City, well played. After the show we went back to the room after a stop at O'Sheehans. I had never been to Nassau, nor had ever planned to. So, there was a bit of interest, for I am the adventurous type, or at least I was before the kids. This adventurous streak seemed prerequisite for the 6 hours we would be allotted by Norwegian. At least I wouldn't have to choose which shore excursion to spend those 6 hours on, as there would be none offered. I wondered at this lack of excursions, however, as the time of debarking in Nassau grew nigh, I began to hear more and more stories from fellow cruisers...grim ones. Talk of travel warnings began to spread through the ship. I over heard one man say to another "Don't take a lanyard or you will be targeted as a tourist." I heard several passengers declare that they would not get off the ship at all for fear of barbarism. I attributed most of these assertions and tales to pure unabashed hyperbole. We went to sleep a bit earlier than usual on that fourth day. Nassau was not Bermuda, but it was also not Cape Canaveral and that suited me just fine. I would venture out with the family to find our own diversion in port.

(to be continued)

Cape Canaveral Pt 2: The rain began to fall, as though the heavens themselves wept on the receiving end of 200 on board credits with a scant few hours to spend them. The words "Its raining" carried through the line from front to rear like a crowd wave during a rugby match, minus the joy. I looked at the man in charge of debarking. He looked quite sad to deliver the self evident news to the unwashed masses. Many turned back, shaking their heads in disbelief, faces contorted by the tang of sour grapes. My wife asked if we should do the same. I looked at my youngest, who just stared off, too broken to summon a tear. I shook my head and shouted "No!" which drew the attention of nearby cruisers. I quickly lowered my voice before continuing. "We will make the best of this day, it may not be Bermuda, but it is still vacations."

We waited in line a little longer, until we were directed off of the ship. The transition into the sunshine state was at least relatively easy. We were soon at a terminal and on a bus to Cocoa Beach. The ride was very stimulating. I was kicking myself the whole way as I had left my Iphone back on the ship and was thus unable to take shots of the surrounding land marks such as Mc Donalds, Super K-mart and a beautifully maintained Sunoco. I was also kicking myself for missing the port shopping consultation with Shannon, as without professional guidance I would surely flounder. At last we arrived at a bus stop...

Getting out, the family and I braved the high winds on our way to the beach proper. There we saw many towels of Norwegian make. I could see that the families and the young and unburdened couples tried to make the best of things as we did. The rain came and went, the sand blasted and buried our towels, but not our spirits. However, I was still removing it from my folding regions for days to come. A few hours later, we had saw as much of Cape Canaveral as we did, and that was more than enough. Setting a course for the bus stop we waited a short time and where whisked back to the Breakaway; sand encrusted and slightly burnt.

(to be continued)

Day 4 Cape Canaveral part 1: We sailed into Cape Canaveral in the wee hours of the morning. I was up early, a new tactic in my unending conflict with the Garden cafe. It seemed to have paid off, for at 7:30, most of the drink package lushes were still sleeping off the night before. I had full prechild access to the eggs Benedict and the delightful bite sized salmon mousse morsels, of which I seized a full plate of each. I filled a mug with Norwegian Joe and rolled forth to see our new itinerary destination. I was, i must say, aw struck. Tankers of sea water? Oil? Who knows?! For Cape Canaveral is a place of many mysteries. The air was saturated with the unmistakable scent of...Florida. I sipped my coffee slowly and looked on with squinting eyes and a solemn heart, for the dream of Bermuda was at last dead. Yes I knew that we had changed coarse, yes I knew that I would not swizzle in nor swizzle out as I had done in my youth. No, this moment was when the grim totality of the situation was laid bare. Atop this realization I looked to the horizon and saw the darkened clouds. I finished my plates, too disheartened to collect a third, let alone fourth, and drank down the last of my cup of NoJo. I rolled on back to the cabin to collect the family and await our brief shore excursion. Low on options and desperate, I, like many others sought to make use of the laughable 200 on board credits through the altered shore excursions. The possibilities were endless, get driven to the gates of Disney, Universal, the space museum (tickets sold separately) or the beach. I did the math, the time constraints versus the money out put was far beyond what 200 credit could buy 5 full paying passengers. We chose the beach, grabbing our towels, snorkels and spf. The announcement for debarking came over the PA. We made our way to the line. The expressions on the faces of our fellow passengers said it all...and then it began to rain...

(to be continued)

Day 3 Rock of Ages:We had made reservations for the 9:30 pm Rock of Ages performance. This reviewer would like to stress the importance of arriving early to events taking place in the creatively titled Breakaway Theater. We chose to attempt entry at 9 pm exactly one half hour prior to curtains up. I had to park my mobility scooter before entering the theater. I walked down the narrow steps to the third row center. My wife and three children entered before me so that I could have access to the aisle should there be a bathroom emergency. We tucked in, I loosened my tie as my neck was beginning to sweat profusely with anticipation. I was very excited to see this show as I was certain it would provide the quality family entertainment that until this point, was sorely missing from our vacation. The lights lowered and a booming voice came on speaker, it was one of the performers giving pre show rules about not taking recordings during the show and the the usual pre show flash photography speech. I paid it little mind, as I had become obsessed with a new bottle flipping app and tuned out the specifics. I made it to my max of 12 flips by the time the show began. The music started and lights swirled, it was show time at last.

I would like to say that if you have children, or any sense of decency, that YOU SHOULD NOT go to see Rock of Ages. Pole dancers in a Broadway show aboard a cruise ship!! References to abnormally large "body parts", and that hungry hungry hippos joke at the end was just shocking!!! I stared, first chin atop my second at the nearly pornographic spectacle taking place. And the music!! It was billed as Rock of Ages, but the only ages that I witnessed were between 1980 and 1989. The performances of said limited era music were, I must admit, exceptional. This does not however excuse the lewd displays!! Norwegian should have been far more proactive and forthcoming in stating the raunchy nature of the show and, that if one had children that they should at least consider leaving them with the guppies and or entourage. The show ended on the ship yes, but the echos of those performances lived on. I received a phone call at work from my children's school saying that my two oldest were emulating some of the scenes witness during RoA. Namely tossing invisible, over sized "body parts" over their shoulders and walking about awkwardly much to their classmates amusements, and their teachers displeasure. After the "performance" we returned to the cabin and called it a night. The ship would be arriving in Cape Canaveral the next day. Hip hip Hooray...

(to be continued)

A special thank you to cml4958 for cleaning up my prior post and reposting it. I don't know what got into me, perhaps it was the horror of recollecting those soul scarring events, or perhaps it was the Goslings Black Seal rum that I purchased here in the states as opposed to Bermuda...

Day 3 The Manhattan Room: After watching the cyclic on-board events played on the Breakaway Channel, I got ready for dinner at the Manhattan Room. I was aware of the restaurants location at the aft of the ship and, considering my admiral ranking membership in my local Star Fleet chapter, I should have anticipated the turbulence at the rear. We arrived dressed casually smart expecting to be immediately seated as per our prior reservations. Instead we were met by yet another line. Several people were clothed as though they were coming from a wedding! I felt a bit under dressed with my short sleeved button up shirt and "suns out buns out" tie. We patiently waited, but soon saw that there was a second line forming to our starboard side. A flock of elderly woman rudely pushed past and demanded their reservations be honored by the hostess working the front of the house. Seeing this, I too moved ahead. The young woman soon seeing that she was quickly being overcome by those who had the forethought to reserve quickly found tables for the elderly group. Shortly thereafter we too were seated...at the very rear beside the stage. As we sat awaiting our server, I felt the ship rising and falling acutely. I made the mistake of looking out the aft window to the rocking dusk touched ocean and became suddenly ill. I knew i needed to reach the nearest public rest facility as surely I could not not make it to the cabin, not with the outrageous elevator delays. I didn't say a word to my family, for there was no time, as I backed out and rolled as fast as I could to the exit. In doing so I struck a nearby table, spilling a fancy looking drink complete with a skewered baby gherkin, celery and an olive. The couple sitting there were blessedly understanding. I made it to the nearest bathroom without further incident just in time. For the first time during the trip I was without appetite. I decided to go out on deck eight for some air, it was dark and I crashed into the giant chess set. Thankfully I was alone when it happened. I breathed deeply as I rolled away from the toppled pieces, hoping that Rock of Ages would turn this day around.

(To be continued)

Day 3 Deal or No Deal: Deal or No Deal was difficult to follow in my carb induced stupor. I fell in and out of consciousness throughout, awoken from my dozing by the sound of angry outburst coming from the general direction of the Service desk. It seemed that several cruisers were seeking answers as to why we were not continuing on as planned. My interest was piqued so I pulled myself out of my current Atrium chair and scooted toward another that i so cleverly secured through my Atrium Seat Security technique (for more information on this, please refer to my above entries). One woman asked why she wasn't informed before boarding the ship that we would not port in Bermuda? The service rep working the desk smiled widely, I dare say it did not seem genuine. Soon others began to line up and the chatter grew to shouts edged with emphasizing expletives put in place for good measure. As I watched on a thought occurred; was it just a coincidence that Guest Services was placed so close to the Atrium? Was its location within arguably the loudest section of the ship a tactic for dissuading passengers from exercising their god given right to voice their grievances due to the annoyance of being drowned out by the ambiance....I wondered. As I continued to look on, one particularly agitated elderly man clothed ironically in a pair of Bermuda shorts, vowed to suggest to everyone he could that upon arriving home they should immediately call and demand compensation. The rep listened intently to the mans concerns and upon completion nodded and said "okay." I considered lodging my own complaint with corporate once debarked. I will not say whether or not I did, nor if doing so gained me an obscenely discounted tenancy within a glorious Haven Suite, as this review is not written to sway opinion in either directions on this subject! I then returned to my former seat which was secured just as I had left it, flanked by a frosty Pina Colada and occupied by a daily and cozy. Deal or No Deal was coming to a conclusion, but as the game was as common an occurrence on the ship as disappointment, I knew, just as with the later mentioned, that there would be many, many opportunities to see it again.

Day 3 Breakfast: Upon awakening the third day, I made a promise to myself that despite the earlier set backs I would endeavor to enjoy the rest of my trip. It was a fool decision on my part to begin this fresh attempt within the very heart of chaos...the Garden Cafe.

After spending several minutes waiting for an elevator, we made our way to deck 15. The air was still crisp with a northern bite and the sun had not yet seen it fit to reveal its golden glow. It was about 9:18 am as I arrived at the Garden Cafe, rolling to the rear of an unruly mob. There were many parents with a look of day three discontent etched upon their faces. Their children ran about wildly, nearly toppling others who sought to balance two or sometimes three plates, stacked high with complementary offerings. These young savages reached in a fructose induced frenzy for pastries, cereals and to my utter revulsion bacon with bare grubby hands. In addition it was neigh impossible to find a table for 5 even so late in the breakfast hour.

We ate what we could find as no matter how quickly the Norwegian team worked to replenish the stations, nothing it would seem could match the ravenous appetites of the passengers. I was none too disappointed though, for I quickly lost my appetite at the site of one child systematically slapping a syrupy hand over the eggs Benedict, the apple cinnamon buns and the beautifully decorated salmon mousse. How many stations were contaminated I cannot say, I simply rolled to our table jaded by what i had just witnessed, vowing to take a late morning meal at O'Sheehans where the menu'd items would be far from the reach of sticky hands.

Day 3 O'Sheehans: After the breakfast debacle my wife attended the "Joint Pain and Acupuncture" demonstration and I set off for O'Sheehans. I had not yet been, but had read many reviews on these very forums about the amazing quality of the chicken wings and of Nathans famous hot dogs. I was especially intrigued by Nathan's as I have eaten my fair share of sausages over the years and It would take quite an impressive wiener to grab my attention. I rolled up to the reception desk and despite the mob in the Garden Cafe there were still three or four people in line ahead of me!!! I started a timer on my casio as I had planned to gather as much information to review on these forums as possible upon my return. I waited patiently to be met by the hostess approximately 2 minutes and 46 agonizing seconds! By the time I was greeted, breakfast had changed into lunch. The hostess, smiled and asked me if I would be dining alone which, as I was alone, should have been quite evident. At long last I was shown to a table that couldn't have been more than three by three. My elbows stuck out beyond the borders and every so often I would catch a table of entourage teenagers snickering and mocking my situation. I ordered from the menu 1 cony island, 1 Chicago style and 1 brat hot dog. I also ordered 2 half dozen or one whole dozen orders each of the barbecue and tai chili wings. I also ordered the Sheppards pie, a house burger and the banger's and mash. I also ordered two orders of the brownie cheese cake as i anticipated joy in eating it, though short lived, it was most certainly there. The wings were flavorful, but messy. I noted the absence of lemon scented wet naps with my order. The burger was quite tasty and done to order, the Sheppard's pie wasn't bad, but nothing of note, and the short stubby sausages in the banger's and mash weren't big enough to fill me. However, Nathan's famous hot dogs indeed lived up to their name. Each of the three wieners were sufficiently long and of appreciable girth. Each was slathered with an assortment of sauces and toppings. My mouth watered as I looked upon the three wieners before me, I hungrily stuffed each in my mouth. All three were so satisfying that I can not choose a favorite, this my dear readers I will leave for each of you to decide for yourself. Full and beginning to forget the experience at the Garden Cafe, I went toward the Atrium where I would find a comfy chair to sleep in. I set my watch alarm to alert me at precisely 2:23 pm that I may have time to prepare to enjoy Deal or No Deal.

(to be continued)

After sharing my secret for Atrium chair acquisition, it pains to take this review along a darker path...

My wife and I decided to splurge and take the children to see the "Cirque Dreams Jungle Fantasy" dinner show. We had high hopes upon entry, all seemed on the level. The decor was dark and mysterious, much like a gentleman's club which I like to frequent in Providence. As they brought out the appetizers I felt a childlike excitement that I could readily see reflected upon the faces of the other patrons. However, it soon became apparent that eating and watching would prove a momentous challenge, how naive i was, for this would be the least of my trials that evening.

The appetizer was forgettable, but adequate to arouse the appetite for the entree of shrimp and overcooked fillet. The seats were oriented sideways requiring the viewer to strain their neck to see the performers.

The cirque performers were quite talented, all save one...the unicorn.

It began as soon as the lights lowered, masked performers rushed out from the darkness through the tightly packed tables. They were dressed as the Jungle creatures we all know and love. A giraffe, a lion and the like. One however wore a large horned horses head and galloped about ludicrously. The unicorn. He continued about and then suddenly stopped his prance to turn sharply and face me. Though he did not speak, his body language told me that he had chosen his victim for this evening, and so the game began.

Through out the performance he would move about, darting in and out of the shadows like some horrid mystical nightmare, only to appear horn first in my peripheral field, taunting before slipping back into the darkness with a menacing neighing cry. I felt humiliated as the unicorn continued to target me much to the amusement of the crowd including my family. At last the performance ended and I made my way to the door, but not before seeing the horned performer waving to me while his cronies laughed. That night my dreams were troubled.

This trick is rather obvious to the savvy observer. If you chose to purchase the drink package (and considering the inebriated state of many of my fellow cruisers, many of you did), do the following three step method I refer to quite cleverly as Atrium Seat Security, I'll leave you to work out an appropriate acronym.

1) purchase an important looking drink (one that is either frozen, garnished with celery or fanciest of all, a baby gherkin)

2) Place the drink in a prominent location either beside the seat on a table or right before the left or right forward leg.

3) place an item such as a stateroom pillow or daily upon the seat proper.

Some times I would use this method to secure several seats at one time so as to have prime choices while viewing the evening film, deal or no deal or the stirring performances of Dan Dan.

I am truly sorry for the delay in continuing this review, I had important tasks to complete which needed my undivided attention.

Day 2 part deux: As I had previously mentioned the Atrium seats were large and comfortable, as well as highly contested. I received many glares of sheer disgust from passers by who sought their own chair to lounge upon. I learned very quickly the price of non-vigilance, for I made the erroneous decision to make use of the public facilities, only to find a smug senior sitting where once I myself had sat upon returning a mere 20 minutes later. It was at that time that I devised a clever trick to ensure my continued control of a coveted chair which i will now share with this forum!

Just sailed on the Breakaway I will begin by saying that New York is beautiful at night. I should know, I saw it from the top deck of the ship when it would otherwise have been at sea. A great view of the Hustler Club from port side by the way. During this cruise I met many people, mostly drunk people and angry drunk people, disillusioned with the last minute change from beautiful Bermuda to god awful port Canaveral and Nassau which needs no introductions. I attended the second city sketch comedy and a good 40% of their material was "what the deuce Norwegian!" Everyone laughed, but I think we were all just a bit bitter inside after dishing out a lot of money to sail to Florida, the Johnson of U.S.

I bunked with four other people, three of which were children and though highly impressed with our Cruise director, the boundlessly talented "Dan Dan" as well as several other ship personalities like the magic fingers piano player Manny and the posh Port Shopping Consultant Shannon. Our on shore time was limited and lack luster in equal measure. But lets not get ahead of ourselves.

Day 1: We arrived in New York City and were made to wait in a badly organize like to embark. Once we made it onto the ship we went to lunch at Savor. It was I must admit adequate. The waiter brought us much food and drink, however it was perhaps a bit much. We were soon overwhelmed with platters of complimentary breads and individually wrapped butters. I had to ask the waiter to slow down the dinner service a bit to which he replied "Okay". Besides this I would recommend Savor as the appetizers, entree's and desserts were quite palatable as between me, my wife and our three children we ordered nearly all selections from the menu. All were good options. Our room was on the other hand, less than impressive. The sleeping area in particular was not designed for large men such as myself and I had difficulty moving about and got wedged between the wall and the bed. Later that evening we attended the Welcome aboard show. I was very excited to see the dancers of Burn the Floor and the preview of Rock of Ages, though still disappointed about Bermuda I decided I was going to enjoy my hard earned vacation with my loving family aboard the Norwegian Breakaway.

Day 2: I awoke the following day, day 2 and got ready for breakfast. We made our way to the elevator lobby and pressed the up key, then waited...and waited...and waited. At long last, the elevator arrived and the children and my wife got in, I awaited a separate car as my scooter would not fit...and I waited...and waited... Finally we made it to deck number 15 and moved to get in line for the Garden Cafe breakfast buffet. A short in stature, smiling Filipino woman greeted everyone with a bottle of spray, its contents questionable as it was not visibly labeled. I tried to avoid the young woman but she reached into my personal space saying "washy washy" and proceeded to spray toward my hand, but as the bottle was set to mist It got the side of my face including my left eye. She was very apologetic and I quickly rolled forward hoping to forget the incident. I did not. The people in the buffet line were savage to say the least, shoving and cutting each other. I was on several occasions throughout this cruise, elbowed. Someone, a child as I would hope an adult would not be so immature, stuffed a Nutella filled crape on to my seat when I wasn't looking. I had to go back to the cabin to change. After Breakfast I made my way to the Atrium, the seats were large and comfortable. There I sat awaiting lunch and whatever the rest of day 2 might bring.

To Be Continued...

Its Good!

Great review!!! Looking forward to more!!!:)