Unexpected Service Issues on the Crown Princess & where we found them - Photo Review

[nanabananna]

This is my first read of your review(s). I have thoroughly enjoyed. Anxiously waiting for more. Thank you for posting!

 

Sandra

[WinksCruises]

Our next day of activities got off to a rather auspicious start. Just as the Crown Princess was docking at Amber Cove, the Captain came booming over the PA system, in broken Norwaynglish, to announce that an organized weather front of violent squalls was forecast that afternoon. For our safety, and that of the ship, he was cutting our stay at Amber Cove short. All passengers needed to be back onboard by 1:30 pm so we could skip town ahead of the bad weather. The sail away from Amber Cove had been originally scheduled for 4:30 pm so we were losing 3-hours. Meh, no big whoop; I continued to doze…

 

Then, shortly after this, our slumber was disturbed again. This time, our Cruise Director, Dave Garcia, came onto the mic and explained that, because of the ship’s early embarkment time, a number of the day’s shore excursions would need to be cancelled. He would be back shortly with a list of them.

 

It took a moment to sink in. Shore Excursion? Cancelled?! I immediately jumped out of bed, throwing the still sleeping Mrs. Winks to the floor. Awake and alive, I just couldn’t bear my excitement – No shore excursion? Maybe I’d be able to stay on the ship! I began performing a celebratory underwear jig in the middle of the cabin.

 

It’s true. So happy I was at the prospect of not having to embark on an excursion, I began jumping and shrieking and waving a wash cloth over my head! And, as it turns out, I was also putting on quite a show for the morning’s small armada of village fishermen who were sailing past the ship’s aft on their way out to sea. In fact, my spontaneous victory dance caused such a ruckus, one of those fishermen apparently radioed the port agent about this frantic passenger in an aft deck - who appeared to be trying to put out a fire!

 

Of course their staring and hollering at me to stop my undulating wasn’t going to dampen my spirits. Not that it mattered… they had a hose for that. A cold blast of harbor water suddenly came shooting through our balcony door. Apparently the port’s fire boat had been dispatched to assist me and, to his credit, the guy was a pretty good shot!

 

Drenched in diesel slime and turtle dung, I awoke the still comatose Mrs. Winks - who had somehow slept through my praise ritual - and gave her the good news. Could it be? Had my fondest dream finally come true? A cancelled shore excursion? Oh what a joy this would be!

 

What this all meant for me: We might be able to stay on the Crown… or at least come back to her early. Rather than spending a half hour trying to get off the ship, then playing some sort of twisted version of pier side 50-Card Bingo and Where’s Waldo? where we attempt to locate our excursion group in that angry sea of almost identically numbered hand paddles. Once there, we would awkwardly hang out - waiting for the latecomers to show up - while sizing up our fellow excursion members – Who, for instance, might be the most likely to snap on this trip? And which kid might be the one spreading all the Noro? Oh come on, you know you’ve played this game!

 

Then we’d get crammed into the back of one of those open-air trucks, for a spine-crushing hour-long ride to some non-descript beach, already teeming with a load of cruisers from other ships, just for the opportunity to fight off the pushy vendors trying to convince me that I’d look “pretty fly fora white guy with my hair braided in a cornrow updo, mon”.

 

This with our towels, sunscreen, our non-existent case of bottled water, and Mrs. Wink’s rolly bag of alternative beachwear options, all in tow. No thank you, please.

 

I took a shower and beseeched the brides of Neptune to save me from this fate - while also taking the opportunity to see just how well the Suite’s “upgraded bathroom amenities - including bath salts and soothing gel eye mask” worked on washing out the harbor muck that was slowly matting to my hair.

 

So despite my shameful dance routine, and a subsequent visit from the Captain for a talk about how gravely sailors took the threat of fire at sea, it turned out that our shore excursion didn’t end up being one of the ones that got canceled. It was all for nothing. Our trip to some Dominican Republic version of an all-inclusive was still a go; we’d just have several fewer hours in which to enjoy it.

 

I was extricated from the ship (Mrs. Winks literally carried me off, kicking and screaming) and our wandering around the pier in search of our shore excursion, pretty much mirrored the description written above, except that we were able to limit our wardrobe changes to one knapsack, given the new time restraints of our stay ashore now.

 

Once we found our excursion group, we were promptly wrist-banded by our tour guide, lined up like nursery school children and then marched in a single file, using the buddy system, in a parade behind her raised paddle, past throngs of similarly grouped passengers. We exited the relative calm and security of the port’s faux-shopping complex and were immediately tossed into the every-man-for-himself Thunderdome they call the excursion truck and van loading zone.

 

After battling our best and securing seats on the truck, the waiting began. Our destination for the day was the Lifestyle VIP All Inclusive Resort, which our kidnappers assured us was only a 10-minute ride from the pier. But by the time they cattle-prodded us onto the vehicle and we waited for all the Johnny-come-latelies to show up, it was a good 40-minutes before we were finally dumped off at the resort. As we jumped out of the truck, the paddle woman unceremoniously warned us, in no uncertain terms, to regroup back here at 12:30 pm sharp, if we ever hoped to see the Crown Princess, or our loved ones at home, ever again…

 

We now had about 2 ½ hours to use the resort property, down from the 6 hours we had originally signed up for (and paid for). There was no pro-rating of the excursion’s cost, no opportunity to cancel, not even an apology. Just suck it up and take it, you entitlement hungry first world whiners.

 

I took this time to ponder why we continued to subject ourselves to these abusive shore excursions – and eventually, after a rum punch, my thoughts turned to our fellow passenger who’d had their excursions canceled that morning. The lucky ones. I fantasized about how much fun they were having,enjoying free reign of the faux port and their run of the empty ship. Frolicking joyfully, unchained of the oppressive buddy system - and having the time of their lives. Sigh. The cruising Gods can be so unjust.

 

To be fair, the Lifestyle resort itself was adequate, as these things go. It had a pool. It had a beach and it had an open bar. Everything they promised. The drinks were watered down and very sugary, but if you drank enough of them quickly enough, you got a racy buzz going before the diabetic coma came crashing on. The included buffet lunch was pushed up to 11 am to accommodate our truncated stay, but Mrs. Winks and I decided we would be better off grabbing pizza or something back on the ship, rather than partaking in the assortment of mystery meats laying in the buffet’s warming trays so soon after a full Sabatini’s breakfast.

 

So there’s a continuous debate being waged on the Cruise Critic Amber Cove forums about what exactly you get when you sign-up for the Lifestyle VIP Resort Getaway excursion. The whole thing is pretty deceptive. One excursion offers true VIP treatment, promising you your own private beach, shared with a limit of 20 other cruise passengers, max. There’s the ability to eat at the resort restaurants, not just at the commoners buffet, and I suspect they get better beverage options.

 

If you notice on our ticket pictured below, Princess emphatically points out that their VIP beach break does not include the VIP access or the VIP beach! Huh!?

 

Passengers from various other cruise ships have reported taking several different iterations of this VIP resort offer. So I think it all comes down to the price you pay. If you’re only paying about $30 a head for the excursion (as we did), chances are, you’re not getting the full VIP treatment. If you see this excursion offered for $70 a head, then you can probably assume you’re getting the upscale package. For our itinerary, only the $30 excursion was offered. But Princess/Carnival should really get their act together on this one. It’s confusing at best, and outright deceptive when you come down to it.

 

The beach was fine, if a little dirty. I was wary of the regularly spaced pipes that were draining their contents out onto the sand. The vendors weren’t too intolerable, but overall it was a pretty average and unremarkable stay. I would have been less satisfied if we had paid more for it. The two hours flew by and before we knew it, we were packing up the U-Haul to get all our gear back up to the meeting spot, where we lined up with lethargic other passengers to reload the transports.

 

The trip back to port was uneventful, but when we go there, we found a long line of people slinking all the way down the rather lengthy pier. It was already nearly 1:30, the all aboard time, but there was no way we were going to leave on time. Mrs. Winks and I took the opportunity to finally explore Princess’s complete fabricated port city of Amber Cove, that’s most distinguishing feature might just be an office where you could get your passport stamped, proving you had been to the Dominican Republic.

 

We took some shots of the ship and the funky Amber Cove sign, but the clouds were rolling in and we didn’t want to get stuck outside on a line when the heavens opened up, so we made our way onto the pier and back onto the ship.

 

The ship eventually slipped its mooring at around 2:30 pm. Once onboard, we tried to find food, but the lines for pizza and the Trident grill wrapped all around the pool area. Surprisingly, the rear section of the Horizon Court buffet, a section they differentiate by calling it the Café Caribe, was uncharacteristically empty, so we grabbed pretty much anything hot they were serving (as I remember it was fried chicken which hit the spot) and had a quiet, late lunch, watching as the Crown made her escape from the darkening clouds lowering over the DR.

 

The Captain did a miraculous job keeping us out of whatever rough seas were in the area. Our trip to Grand Turk was relatively smooth, if cloudy and filled with showers. After lunch, we went back to the cabin where I think we both passed out, thankful to be back from the shore excursion unscathed.

 

For dinner, we didn’t feel like going back to the main dining room, and because we wanted to catch the comedian’s show, we decided just to have some cocktails at the Wheelhouse Bar and then try out the The Salty Dog Gastropub, Princess’s “upscale twist on delicious pub fare” - which is really their roundabout way of telling us there’d be a 12$ per person upcharge.

 

Now, there is also a running debate on the Cruise Critic Princess Forums on whether the introduction of the Salty Dog has “ruined” the Wheelhouse Bar - with most people reporting that no one ever seems to be eating there and it intrudes too much on the entertainment area. While Mrs. Winks and I both think it falls into the “trying to fit a square peg into a round hole” category, we don’t think the Wheelhouse Bar suffers greatly from the eatery’s presence.

 

There’s still a regular stream of jazz quartets, vocalists and other musical acts playing the space. There’s still a dance floor for those who want to show off the routines they at Arthur Murray. The LGBT Get-Together still meets there every night at 5 (un-hosted). And you can still get the spicy nut mix at the bar, where they’ll still make you a God-awful tasting chocolate martini. So what’s not to love? About the only victim of the renovation that we noticed was the antique captain’s wheel itself, which was removed from the bar entrance to make room for a maître d stand.

 

All five nights we were aboard, the Salty Dog was reasonably busy. And it was David, our friend from Sabatini’s and the Crown Grille, that got us a reservation there when we were turned down for one on a prior evening. The meal itself was pretty good. Not really anything to write home about, but the whole ambiance was different, and a break from the formality you get at Crown or Sabatini’s. Funny enough, a lot of the ship’s officers dine there. We saw several table’s worth during the course of the voyage.

 

For your $12, you get a choice of two menu items and a dessert. Tapas on the high seas. We both chose the signature ground rib-eye burger, with Mrs. Winks also selecting the Gruyere grilled cheese and tomato soup, which she really liked, and I went with the lobster mac & cheese, where the lobster was a hint fishy but it was otherwise satisfying. There were unlimited skinny dipping bread sticks with a couple of fondues and the desserts were small and decadent. It was a fun evening and I would recommend it.

 

Coming up: Comedian Doug Funk, In search of Wi-Fi and Astronauts on Grand Turk, and Our First (and Last) Couples Massage…

Edited April 4, 2017 by WinksCruises

[rocklinmom]

OMG thank the pirate gods it's another hilarious Winks review! You are still killing me. This is hysterical as usual...keep it up! You rock!! By far the best reviews ever on CC.

 

 

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[myfuzzy]

Mr/Mrs Winks....I see you dropped in on the roll call a couple of times....you should have posted more, that roll call needed some spicing up.....;p

[njaloha]

Ok is that balcony celebration [emoji91] hose story for real or is the pain in my hip from you pulling my leg?

 

And have you considered writing a book?. I'd pay good money....;). You're hysterical

 

 

 

 

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[Henchild]

excellent reading, Thank you.

[1northstar]

;) Your reviews never disappoint.

Thanks for sharing.

[4cats4me]

I love your review. Yesterday I was laughing so hard, I couldn't stop. You have such a flair for writing. Regarding the VIP resort, we also signed up for that tour for our March Fifth sailing on the Regal, but due to rain, we voluntarily absented ourselves from that tour altogether. We had paid $38 pp for the privilege of VIP which barred us from the VIP area, and I laughed when I saw the printed tix in our room. Many tours were canceled on our port day but not the lifestyles VIP resort. We were half expecting to see a magical cruise credit on our folio like you, we were secretly hoping that it would be canceled, but alas, the show went on. We had so much onboard credit, so we weren't out any money. Your pics are very nice, but I can see that we really didn't miss much regarding that particular excursion. We did however, enjoy our time there at the port, shopping and buying some really good Dominican chocolate and coffee to take home Also regret not buying more after seeing the prices online after returning home [emoji33] the people were very kind in the Dominican Republic

 

 

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[jagoffee]

Good points. But what did Agent 86, Maxwell Smart, always used to quip? "I missed it by THAAAT much!"

 

Unfortunately for us, Club Class Dining hadn't yet been rolled out on Crown Princess (it's scheduled to start on the April 8th sailing, actually) and free Specialty Restaurant Dining (available to Suite Guests on the voyage's first night) is only offered on 7-day or longer itineraries. So, yet another drawback of our short, 5-day one. Sucks to be a Winks!

 

Great,answer. Thanks.

 

And no it does not.

[NavyVeteran]

Good points. But what did Agent 86, Maxwell Smart, always used to quip? "I missed it by THAAAT much!"

 

Unfortunately for us, Club Class Dining hadn't yet been rolled out on Crown Princess (it's scheduled to start on the April 8th sailing, actually) and free Specialty Restaurant Dining (available to Suite Guests on the voyage's first night) is only offered on 7-day or longer itineraries. So, yet another drawback of our short, 5-day one. Sucks to be a Winks!

 

Actually the "Complimentary dinner in a specialty restaurant on embarkation day" is "Applicable on cruises six days or longer". So you don't need a 7-day itinerary to get one - only a 6-day itinerary.:) But you had to book a 5-day one - missed it by one day.:(

[cr8tiv1]

Actually the "Complimentary dinner in a specialty restaurant on embarkation day" is "Applicable on cruises six days or longer". So you don't need a 7-day itinerary to get one - only a 6-day itinerary.:) But you had to book a 5-day one - missed it by one day.:(

 

Do you remember the days that they actually did offer it on three night cruises? (Vancouver to LA repo) and all of the Golden 3-4 day cruises that first year it was in San Pedro. Don't recall if it happened on one night cruises.

 

Those were the days. Sure beat trying to get to the MDR on the first night.

[tonit964]

What a great review! Thanks for taking the time to write it, you are very funny! :D

Love the Death Port for Cutie reference.;)

[Jimmy Geegitz]

great review

[scopewest]

Loved your review, thanks for posting!

[So_Tweetie]

We ate in the CG on the Ruby 2 weeks ago with no such fee when we all ordered extra steak and lobster. :confused:

 

My boyfriend tried to order lobster as an appetizer on the Star in March and was told it would be a $14 additional fee. We went without. On the Crown in December, the waiter suggested we have lobster as an app and there was no charge for it. Really inconsistent.

[WinksCruises]

 

Passengers at the early comedy show must have really enjoyed themselves, because when we arrived at the Princess Theater for Doug Funk’s 9 pm comedy set, positive word-of-mouth about his show had spread around the ship faster than noro virus in a kiddie pool; every seat was taken. Mrs. Winks and I had to prop ourselves up against the back wall of the auditorium, behind the wheel chair seats, just to get a glimpse of the stage: something we’ve never had happen at a cruise ship show before.

 

While Funk’s actual stand-up routine is pretty standard –jokes about being attacked by his cabin’s shower curtain and observations about people pigging out at the buffet – his act really takes off when he invites audience members up on stage to perform unscripted, improvisational scenes with him. Think “Whose Line Is It, Anyway?”but with untrained, half-in-the-bag, Okies like ourselves. It’s hilarious, especially when the audience members are able to steal the show with a good line or unintentional flub. The crowd was in stitches.

 

In the end, one of our biggest Crown cruise regrets was not being able to attend an improv comedy class that Funk taught on the last sea day. I would have happily volunteered Mrs. Winks as a guinea pig!

 

(Sorry, we don’t have any real pictures from this event. My Snapchats of Funk’s routines never saved to my phone, so they are lost forever.The picture below is a head shot from his booking agency and the background is actually from an Alaskan Future Cruise Presentation we attended in the Explorer’s Lounge).

 

Because we had no shore excursions booked for Grand Turk, wespent our morning completely stress free. We took our time waking up, savoring our Sabatini’s breakfast and heading down to the gangway. Every task that day,pleasurable (shopping for postcards) or onerous (changing the color group of our disembarkation luggage tags) was undertaken at our leisure. There was no tour to catch or square of beach to battle over. Cruising should always be this way!

 

With our bankroll of complimentary Internet minutes nearly exhausted, our first order of business was to stop at the port’s Margaritaville,where they offered free Wi-Fi. Here, we were able to post and check emails without watching the clock. The log-on password for the complex was “Flipflop” - which tons of people already knew,judging from the line of passengers stretching around the perimeter of the establishment, glomming off the Wi Fi, each pecking away at their mobile phones,with n’er a drink nor Parrot-head related product in hand.

 

After posing for our obligatory selfie with the giant dancing Parrot statue - that stands on an over sized Coleman cooler just outside the main entrance - we cruised into the tiki bar overlooking the pools for a 10 am pina colada. We took a picture of those creamy libations, too, which we were sure to immediately share with our work colleagues back home! And despite it being a fairly overcast morning, the gigantic network of Margaritaville swimming pools was already busy with both bathers and drinkers alike.

 

 

Our next stop was over at the “Splashdown Grand Turk” exhibit,a small park just off the cruise center, that features some storyboards and replica statues that commemorate the 1962 splashdown of John Glenn’s Mercury-era capsule, Friendship 7, off the coast of Grand Turk Island. It’s cheesy, nostalgic, and best of all, free. Plenty of photo ops, and there’s a small shop that sells some space related memorabilia and John Glenn T-shirts (but sadly no postcards).

 

Unfortunately, the Snapchat video we shot of me accusing astronaut mannequin John Glenn of helping NASA cover-up the faked moon-landings was another short quip lost to the ages. This is just a lesson to you kids that it’s a good idea just to simply follow Mr.and Mrs. Winks on Snapchat - @WinksCruises and @MrsWinksCruises – so you can witness all this comedy gold when it happens (he shamelessly plugged).

 

For real space program fans, the actual Friendship 7 capsule is displayed just off the road to the airport, and most taxi’s into town pass by it. It’s pretty impressive. And there’s also a larger, more detailed Space History exhibit at the Turk & Caicos National Museum in Cockburn Town, (which Mrs. Winks refuses to let me go to“because we don’t travel to Grand Turk to spend time stuck in dark, indoor museums!”). But for those of you just stopping at the Cruise Center for the day, the Splashdown park makes for a unique and lighthearted stop - as does the philatelic bureau (and active post office), where they sell Grand Turk’s famous stamps and somewhat less famous postcards and will also hand-cancel your outgoing mail.

 

 

By noon, the sun had burst through the overcast skies, the Carnival Glory had docked, and the cruise center had gotten real crowded and real noisy, real fast. There was suddenly a huge influx of young families and teenagers, significantly more running and shouting and, over at the beach that sports the magnificent view of the moored ships,a lot of pushing and shoving - as the invasion for tactical beach frontage took on shades of Normandy on D-Day.

 

We didn’t care though. Still buzzed from our mid-morning WiFi Coladas, Mrs. Winks and I continued to clown around the port. In fact, Mrs. Winks scored a part-term gig repairing broken flip flops for vendor at Margaritaville, that is until Grand Turk’s crack ICE team raided the place and she was deported for being undocumented. They didn’t listen to her pleas that she was really an anchor baby at heart. I myself had my own brief run-in with the Grand Turk military – but fortuitously, that explosive run in just left me with more room for Princess pizza slices and guilt-free visits to the Horizon Court buffet.

 

 

Exhausted by our island antics, we headed back to the shipso we could grab a quick cat nap before our scheduled couple’s massage. The free massage had come bundled as part ofour original incentive package – it and a fairly generous on board credit (OBC)and the customary bottle of Korbel Brut. All of which being the temptation that had enticed Mrs. Winks to break our sanctimonious 7-Day or bust cruising pact and subsequent tattoo removals (see page 1) - and to think ole Eve had just settled for an apple.

 

I was nervous about the massage. Not just because ever since that White Party on the Grand Princess, having strange people touch my body has been giving me the heebie-jeebies, but because I questioned my ability to fend off their beauty product sales banter when in a forced relaxed state. I wasn’t the type of guy who wanted to explain to US customs where and why I’d acquired so much butt firming cream.

 

But Mrs. Winks assured me she was a pro at nipping their time-share pitches in the bud, that I should just let her do all the talking and everything would be fine. That and, no, they wouldn’t laugh at me for wearing tighty whiteys, and yes, for the sake of everyone involved, I should please keep them on.

 

So as the ship was pulling out from Grand Turk, we headed down to the total opposite end of the ship, to the Lotus Spa. And that’s when all the weirdness started. We reached the check-in desk at the spa where these Stepford Wife like greeters, who ooze haughtiness and contempt and continuously eyeballed us up-and-down with dagger like judgement, while tapping endlessly at their workstations. What was she writing down about me? Could she see my underwears under my robe? Were they the wrong color? Maybe she had heard about my little dance episode from the other morning - and the incident with the fire boat. Would the Captain be coming to our massage??

 

Then we were taken into a back room and told to sit down and fill out general health forms. Self-conscious, I lied about everything. Which probably explained the message from the ship’s doctor waiting on our voice mail when we got back to the cabin. Was everything okay; I should really come and see him.

 

Eventually our handlers came, giggling and chatting, and telling us we needed to move upstairs to the Sanctuary. That seemed like an odd request, because ever since we’d left Grand Turk, the ship had been plowing through a succession of wind and rain storms and the only way up to the Sanctuary was outdoors. They insisted it would be okay. It would be better up there.

 

I clutched my robe, concerned for the safety of passersby should it be caught by a wind gust and reveal anything. It was chilly outside, as we climbed the Sanctuary pool stairs up to the top deck, and the rain started to dampen my bathrobe.

 

“Here, we have the tables and tent all set up for you two,”they said, indicating with their hands. Mrs. Winks and I couldn’t believe our eyes.

 

 

As some of you may have figure out by now, I am guilty of occasionally embellishing the facts in these reviews. It’s true for instance, that I only had a five dollar bill handy when we tipped the pier baggage handlers back in Fort Lauderdale, and that’s probably the real reason our case of water never showed up in our stateroom. But I kid you not -and Mrs. Winks will surely attest to this - they honest to God wanted to give us a 70 minute massage, up in that wind and rain soaked tent, where the flaps weren’t even secured properly, and they were thrashing up against the massage table.

 

I didn’t have my phone with me (Why do I listen to Mrs.Winks when she’s says it wouldn’t be kosher to Snapchat from our couple’s massage!?) so I don’t have the photographic proof, but that picture above is very close to what it looked like! Once again, we figured John Quinones was lurking around the corner with a camera crew to film our reactions to this fiasco for another addition of What Would You Do? At Sea!

 

Mrs. Winks threatened to cancel the entire appointment and demand our money back (which, admittedly, might have been difficult, given this was a complimentary massage), so the Spa women finally caved and said they would find us a room down in the main facility. Well, why didn’t you do that in the first place? It was at totally bizarre experience, but what did I know. It being my first massage, I figured it might be par for the course!

 

After all that, the massage itself was kind of a letdown.Someone I didn’t know was manhandling my body, we couldn’t see what was going on because our heads were stuffed into those face framing devices, and I half-suspected a knife was going to be jabbed into my back for sneaking on that power strip in our checked luggage.

 

The process seemed to go on forever and was punctuated by awkward silences, nervousness and outright terror (they reach just a little too high on the thigh for my comfort!) When it was over, we went through all the pleasantries and thank yous and I ended upbringing back a gallon of backbone strengthener, which they said I needed. But if I was ever offered a chance to do it all again, I’d pass.

 

Coming Up: The Vomit Comet and Disembarking

Edited April 5, 2017 by WinksCruises

[4cats4me]

Can't wait for the next chapter 🤣

 

 

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[socmft]

What do you do for a living, Mr. Winks? You have to be/had to be a writer.

[Jerica21]

Very interesting read....love the pics!

[Retiring cajun]

Still laughing at pic of massage table[emoji23][emoji23]

 

 

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[caribill]

 

For real space program fans, the actual Friendship 7 capsule is displayed just off the road to the airport, and most taxi’s into town pass by it. It’s pretty impressive.

 

Actually, that is also a replica.

 

The real Friendship 7 is on display at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington D.C., USA.

[Canadian Tyler]

Another Winks review? I thought this guy got banned when it came to light that he wakes up at 4am to save deck chairs each morning!

 

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[metairiegal]

Thanks for the smiles! Your review is great! :D

[WinksCruises]

I thought this guy got banned when it came to light that he wakes up at 4am to save deck chairs each morning!

Ha, I beat that bum rap!

 

Jim Walker's fine team over at Cruize Law successfully convinced my jury that chair saving is, in fact, a disease and an addiction. 6-weeks lounging by the pool at Betty Ford's clinic and voila! I'm a new man!

 

But thanks for your concern...

[WinksCruises]

The real Friendship 7 is on display at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington D.C., USA.

Those lying Grand Turkeys! They told me it was the real one!

 

I really need to hire a fact checker for these posts. You available?