Part LVII - Installment Travelogue: Cruising With the Mothers, Maasdam - I Meet HAL

This is part 7 of the story. See also:

Part 1 - A Crazy Idea

Part 2 - One Down

Part 3 - Come On, Ma

Part 4 - Two to Go

Part 5 - Formalities

Part 6 - A Grand Plan

I love doing things online. Computers are so logical and efficient, and with the advent of cable modems, there’s not a telephone in the process anywhere. I work with computers every day, and I know how to make them sing…

 

I sat at my computer and made my way to HAL’s website. I was struck by the irony. Presumably, most people are familiar with the movie 2001, A Space Odyssey, and remember well the villainous computer central to the story – HAL.

 

I chuckled at the name association, clicked the shore excursion link and plunged straight into a computer nightmare that even Stanley Kubrick couldn’t have envisioned…

Part 7 (57) - I Meet HAL

It all started innocently enough. The computer wanted to know our names and booking number, and I willingly complied.

I typed in the requested information, pressed the return key and waited.

I went back to the login page and tried again. HAL would not talk to me at all. Sometimes computers just need a little time to rest and reflect, so I went about my other business. Hours later, I returned to HAL and tried again.

This was going better - so far - but I decided not to get pushy.

I tried using the back button to see the original list of ports. HAL went off into outer space. I went to the kitchen, made a stiff drink and went to bed. I was sure that the programmers would be working through the night to fix the server.

I worked on my book editing project for most of the next morning before finding the motivation to try signing up for excursions again.

This was bad news. I figured that I’d be one of the first to book excursions. All those first-timers would be caught off guard, but our little party would prevail.

I filled in the form, paid the tab and immediately returned to the login page. This time I logged in using the mother’s information.

I filled in the form.

I received an email moments later confirming my mother on the mine tour in Sydney. Time to call Kris with the bad news.

“Hello,” said an unfamiliar woman’s voice.

“Hi – can I speak to Kris please?”

“She’s water skiing right now. Can I take a message?”

She’s water skiing, and I’m drowning. “Yes. Please use these exact words – ‘Phone home.’” For some reason, an outer space theme was running through my head.

“OK. Will do.”

“I wonder who that was,” I thought. You never really know who’s going to show up at the camp, especially on a holiday. Sometimes it’s a real zoo.

I logged back onto HAL - as myself this time – only to find that the Confederation Bridge tour was not being offered in Charlottetown. We’d never been to PEI, but more than one person had told me that the beaches there were beautiful, and that the water was remarkably warm. Although one does not normally associate New England/Canada cruises with beaches, it seemed to me that beaches and cruises were meant to go together.

I scanned the offerings, and found a tour called Dalvay by the Sea – a lobster lunch at the historic Victorian estate of a pre-income tax American magnate. Although the description didn’t specifically mention a beach, I figured that if the place was by the sea, a beach couldn’t be far away. Admittedly - for all I knew - it was at the bottom of a hundred-foot cliff.

I triumphantly completed the booking, logged back in as the mothers, and convinced HAL to sell them a spot on the bus to the Green Gables house. A pair of email messages arrived confirming the unqualified success of my efforts. I printed them as evidence, just in case.

Around dinnertime, the phone interrupted my editing progress. I’d spent the whole afternoon researching punctuation and the proper way to write the time of day. From that experience, I concluded that English grammar is just plain nutty.

“Hello,” I said.

“It’s me,” said Kris. I let it go this time. She’ll never learn…

“How’s things? Who’s up there? A stranger answered the phone.”

“Well, let’s see. My cousin from Maine is here with her husband and their two daughters - and they each brought friends – and Ann’s sister’s friend is here with her new baby, my brothers are here and…” I kept count until the number of souls reached twenty. “And then my cousin Eric and his family are renting the cabin next door, so that means the Smiths are visiting…”

“Where are you sleeping?” I asked. With that crowd, I knew Kris wouldn’t have the luxury of hogging the double bed in “our” room. Too inefficient.

“On the couch,” she said. “If you were here, we could claim our room.”

“Sorry,” I said. I was sorry about the sleeping situation, but not too sorry that I wasn’t there to cook for the masses. It is my job to man the grill at the camp, and when the body count is that high, it becomes quite a chore. Twenty-seven cheeseburgers, five hamburgers and a dozen hot dogs, coming right up. I’m kind of glad that it’s not safe to eat rare burgers anymore, because I can cook everything for the same amount of time – well done…

“We’re having lobster tonight,” said Kris. “Eric brought a huge outdoor cooker, and he and my mother are out there making the steamers right now.”

“It figures,” I said. I think I started drooling…

So what’s up?” Kris asked.

“I’m having a bit of trouble with the excursions. The Puffins are sold out. Same for the lake tour. They’re not offering the lunch tour in Bar Harbor or the bridge tour in Charlottetown. But I got the mothers on the Green Gables tour.”

“No Puffins?”

“Afraid not.”

“That was Sydney, right? Same place as the lake tour?” Kris asked. I grunted an affirmative. “My mother would like to go to the Alexander Graham Bell museum, then. I’ll go with her.”

“I could go for that, too,” I said. “What about Bar Harbor?”

“You pick. Find something nice that we’ll all like.”

“I’ve gotta tell ya, the computer system they use for the excursion booking is the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.

“Why don’t you just call them?” Kris asked.

I responded with silence.

“Do you want me to do it?”

I repeated my last line…

I wasn’t about to give up just like that. “No, I’ll take care of it,” I said. “Kiss a lobster for me…”

That was it. No more Mr. Niceguy. No computer was going to make a fool out of me…

I love this "That was it. No more Mr. Niceguy. No computer was going to make a fool out of me…"

Fascinating as usual

:)

I got too caught up reading to go make my coffee. Now you'll have to post another chapter!

It snowed last night, now I know how you New England people feel.

Thanks for the Sunday treat!

Next installment please.........

I have a cruise scheduled for February 11, will you be done by then or will I have to hold my breath until I return?

Jim

We're all waiting for the next chapter. It's wonderful as usual!

Garry

Wow, reading the HAL conputer dialogue, I could actually hear the voice from the movie. Great job!

Chris, actually I’m not sure if I love computers or hate them – it is a fine line. Carole and NancyNurse, I followed you command… Jim, I don’t know – maybe you should do some breathing exercises just in case…Garry, thank you. Always a pleasure. cruisintwinsmom, I could certainly hear the voice in my head as this was happening, and half expected to hear Bicycle Built for Two come from the speakers…

All the best,

chesterh