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Excerpted from ‘How to be a Pencilneck’ by Owen Garratt
 © Owen Garratt 2009
www.pencilneck.com
Al lRi ghts Res erv ed
.
MOM AND THE CRUISE SHIP Part Two
A couple of days later, we clattered up the gangplank of our ship, the M/SSkyward.If you’re contemplating a cruise, I have some hard news for you:It’s not what you think it is…at least it wasn’t in 1980.In 1980, you think that every ship is The Love Boat. You think it’s aluxurious, glamorous, exotic affair with people fawning over you and seeing toyour every need. The glamour is only on the upper decks however, because this isfirst and foremost a ship, and every inch of space has to be used efficiently. If you’re the type of uber-efficient person who gets excited at multitasking, then the‘stateroom’ on a cruise ship is just your bag. The bathroom, or ‘head’ is one of those places where the person on the go can shower, brush his teeth, and have adump all at the same time.“Wow!” I said as Mom and I wedged into our room.“Wow, what?” Mom asked.“I’ve never really appreciated the power of the wide angle lens before! Inthe brochure, these rooms look big enough to actually bring a suitcase into!” Isaid. “If we had just a little more room, it’d be like staying in a broom closet.”Mom tried to get past me to balance her purse on the hint of bed, and wehad to fall back on our dance training to pull it off.There was a metal shelf that pulled down from the wall, and there was ahand towel on it.“That’s a weird place for a towel rack” I said, puzzled.
 
Excerpted from ‘How to be a Pencilneck’ by Owen Garratt
 © Owen Garratt 2009
www.pencilneck.com
Al lRi ghts Res erv ed
.
“I think that’s your cot.” Mom said, smoothly inserting the fact that sheconsidered the lower bunk hers, even though she was half my size.We dumped off our luggage, heaved the door shut, and explored the ship.The people do fawn over you, but they’re fawning because they’re trying to sellyou a bunch of junky shit, which
can 
be charming if you’re a good sport.We were accosted by a chap from somewhere down in the islands whooffered us a free drink, but naturally the souvenir glass was $3.95. Inexplicably,Mom bought 2 of them, and freely flaunting the laws of the land, pressured meinto my very first strawberry margarita.Yuck. It tasted like a headache. I still don’t like em’.Soon we were treated to a farce of a safety drill. Years later, after seeingTitanic, I’m convinced that James Cameron was on board the M/S/ Skywardduring the third week of December, 1980.People are best sampled in small batches of up to a dozen or so. Any morethan that and the collective IQ of the group falls in direct proportion the number of people involved.And the older they are the dumber they get.I’d wager that every single one of those people, if taken one on one, wouldhave no problem reading the clearly displayed signs showing where their lifeboatwas, or understand what they meant when a purser or mate or busboy would say‘stand right here’. But toss a bunch of people together - tourists worst of all - andit turns into a ruddy hencoop. Squawks and squabbles and flapping and peckingand cawing and big blank unblinking eyes.
 
Excerpted from ‘How to be a Pencilneck’ by Owen Garratt
 © Owen Garratt 2009
www.pencilneck.com
Al lRi ghts Res erv ed
.
After the drill, as was our custom, Mom and I went our separate ways, andagreed to meet back in the room once we had cast off. Another falsehoodperpetrated on cruise customers is the big Bon Voyage. We’re lead to believe thatthe dock is lined with cheering people all waving excitedly and the air is filledwith balloons and streamers while a brass band favors you with selections fromThe John Phillip Souza Songbook.Nope. Nothing. Just a bunch of rubes on board looking down at themurky water boil and surge as the ship slides and shudders and shakes as it slowlygets underway away from the setting sun. It’s about as sexy as seeing a palletbeing moved in a warehouse.Wee!I wandered around introducing myself for awhile longer and made myway below to our room. Mom wasn’t there yet, but I started to dress for dinner.As I was finishing, Mom burst into the room sobbing, with tears streaming downher face and her hands shaking.“What happened?!” I said, galvanized for battle.With broken speech, Mom told me that as the ship was pushing off fromthe dock, she was standing on the uppermost deck holding her purse with thebottom resting on the rail. She ship lurched, and as she reacted and grabbed tosteady herself, the bag slipped from her hand and went overboard…
with all of our money, travelers cheques, credit cards, and passports!!! 
In a callus, distasteful moment, I confess that I wondered how manydishes we’d have to wash to cover our tabs.Mom burst into renewed tears and cried apologies into my shoulder as Itried to comfort her.
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