Yes, the Karaoke Queen and I overstayed our welcome in Nassau, and we missed the boat. What a sight, the Carnival Valor pulling away from the dock without us, as we ran alongside screaming for it to stop.
All because we decided to rent a scooter and take a tour of the island… mostly to take a peek at the Atlantis resort.
“Do you know what time your ship sails?” the attendant at the scooter lot asked us as we checked out the scooters.
“No, do you?” I asked in return.
Well, no he didn’t. Since it was only 1 p.m., we figured we had plenty of time. After all, the boat had to stay in port until at least the evening, didn’t it? So we wrongly reasoned. Renting a scooter seemed a great opportunity to move the Karaoke Queen along toward riding the Harley. The ride to the Atlantis was great fun. We putted along at 30 mph on the little scooter over a bridge, as I struggled to get used to driving on the left side of the road, English style. When we emerged from the Atlantis, I peered across the bay and noticed smoke wafting out of the Valor’s stack.
“That doesn’t look like a good sign,” I told the Karaoke Queen. “Maybe we’d better go back and check it out.”
We would have made it, but the maze of one way streets in Nassau completely confounded me. I couldn’t quite find my way through the maze back to the scooter lot.
We ran through the customs house and down the wharf, only to watch the ship steam away. One of the more ignominious moments of my life.
A man who purported to be an agent for Carnival intercepted us as soon as we returned to the customs house.
“Can’t you get us on the boat?” I pleaded.
The answer was “No.”
“You can’t call Carnival from here,” he told us. “You’ll have to take a flight to Miami and you can call from there. The taxi ride to the airport is 22 bucks. Do you have it?”
The young man seemed quite determined to get us off the island as fast as possible. He asked us if we had missed the boat because we had been arrested. He escorted us to the taxi stand and deposited us in a cab. Soon, we were standing in the immigration and security lines of Nassau airport. I was in a terrible mood. The Karaoke Queen took it all in stride.
“How in the hell did we do that?” I asked her.
“I just kind of assumed that the boat left at four,” she said.
Security at Nassau proceeded through three checkpoints. We stood in line for over an hour, took off our shoes several times, and submitted to a frisking once.
“This is like ‘Dumb and Dumberer’. How could we do something this stupid?” I complained. “Why in the hell aren’t we on the goddamn boat?”
“Oh, well, it wasn’t meant to be,” the Karaoke Queen replied.
Finally, we cleared security. We sat in the hangar-like waiting room for an hour until we could catch a puddle jumper to Miami. We shelled out $200 apiece to get to Miami. The airport was frigid, and we had left all our possessions on the boat.
We purchased another set of tickets for a puddle jumper flight to San Juan that connected to another flight to St. Thomas... another $300 apiece. For an entire night we sat in the waiting rooms of overly air conditioned airports, waiting for flights. The Karaoke Queen had dressed only in a short sleeve shirt and shorts. Her skin exploded into goose bumps.
“Suzie at the office said that we would find out if our relationship was workable if we can travel successfully together,” I said as we sat in one of the puddle jumpers. “This is certainly a test, isn’t it?”
“I’m fine,” answered the Karaoke Queen. “Since my husband died, I don’t let anything upset me. Nothing disastrous has happened. Nobody is hurt.”
“Suzie asked me how old you are,” I told her. “She wanted to know if you are a mail order bride, you know, since you’re Filipina.”
“What’d you tell her?” the Karaoke Queen laughed. “You should have told her that I’m 20. Fedex overnight delivery.”
“Yes, 20, but a very mature 20.”
We laughed. It could have been worse. That’s what the Karaoke Queen kept telling me. We beat the ship into St. Thomas by a day, and checked into the Holiday Inn. Our hotel window overlooked a shack surrounded by chickens. The rooster crowed the next morning to awaken us. I drank Rum Runners and we shopped to pass the time.
“We’re going to be hearing about this for a long time, aren’t we?”
“It will go down in family history,” the Karaoke Queen agreed.
“Maybe we need a chaperone. I’m not sure that we’re competent to take care of ourselves.”
So, there you have it. I confess. We stood there like a pair of fools on the dock at Nassau and watched our ship set sail. I seriously considered jumping in the water and swimming after the boat.
“You just have to learn from experience,” the Karaoke Queen repeatedly told me. “Next time, make sure you know when the boat leaves.”
Take heed. It could happen to you.
The Carnival agent made you go to Miami just to *call* the company? What an absurd outfit!
Posted by: Peter | Tuesday, August 23, 2005 at 10:42 PM