told Limy Dave that I’d fill in as an instructor on the Radisson Diamond for two runs. I was reluctant at first to teach on a cruise ship. I didn’t want to be in such close proximity to my mortal enemies, the terrible “cruise shippers.” I thought about it for a while and out-weighed the pros and cons. I came to the conclusion that diving on the islands where the ship would port out weighed the cons. Besides, I planned on a heavy liquid diet that would help me tolerate the situation and, what the hell, it was only for a month or so. I can handle that. Veronica would be done with her run on one of the Princess Cruise ships at the same time I’d be finished and we’d meet up on St. Thomas.
The Raddison had just came from its Mediterranean tour and was about to start her Caribbean season. I was excited about the island posts the Radisson would hit on the two runs I’d be aboard. She’d start off in San Juan, Puerto Rico, then St. Martin, the Cayman Islands, Curacao, Aruba, finally through the Panama Canal to Costa Rica. Then, after dropping off the passengers and picking up the new ones, she’d run back through the big ditch to the San Blas Islands, Cartegana Columbia, San Andres Island and Cozumel Mexico. The last stop was in Key West before ending in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I’d be able to dive at most of these stops. It was going to be a blast even though I’d have students with me on the majority of the dives.
I jumped on the Radisson Diamond in St. Thomas and met up with the other new cruise ship dive instructor, Pretty Boy Damon. The ship was just finishing up its first Caribbean run and Damon was getting into the whole teaching on a cruise ship gig . He also had been working on St. Thomas for a dive operation called Underwater Safari’s located on the main cruise ship dock in Havensight. I had came across Pretty Boy a few times at Coki Beach while I was teaching a class and we hit it off. He was from Long Beach, California and looked like he came right out of a GQ magazine. That’s why I, and the other instructors at VIDSS, called him Pretty Boy. St. Thomas was the last stop on the Radisson’s first Caribbean leg before she headed to Puerto Rico to pick up the next cruise. Her deafening horn blew seven times as her mooring lines were released. We were off and running.
Greeting Party
Pretty Boy and I were part of the greeting party for the new passengers coming aboard in San Juan. We were both dressed like the Men In Black but without the shades. The first day was always a big event with top staff lined up in formation, wearing first class uniforms. It was an impressive sight, no doubt, seeing the captain and crew standing like naval soldiers, the chefs’ with their immaculate white uniforms and big white chefs’ hats, the stewards and bartenders as well as the activity director. But clearly, to me, the most impressive and jaw dropping site was the house cleaning girls. They were all dressed in French Maid uniforms, all were donning ruby red lipstick with their hair pinned back and all of them were drop dead gorgeous. I couldn’t take my eyes off this one maid that had deep brown eyes and big boobs. I was drooling like a high school boy.
“That’s the one I’m going after,” Pretty boy said, under his breath while trying not to point so obviously at a beautiful french maid with jet black hair and a smooth, milky complexion. She was hot alright, but there was something about the girl with the deep brown eyes. I felt like jello inside.
After greeting a few more passengers and introducing myself as one of the scuba instructors, I tuned my eyes back to the group of french maids. I was caught off guard. Brown Eyes was staring straight at me with a mischievous smile painted across her face. My heart skipped a few beats. I couldn’t breathe. I was scared and wanted to bolt out in a mad, panicked dash. No longer did I feel like jello. Now I felt like a puddle of chicken soup.
Damon must have noticed me sweating and turning pale. He saw Brown Eyes looking at me as well. “What the hell’s the matter with you,” he whispered. I was frozen and couldn’t speak. My mouth felt like a dry sock was stuffed in it. “That chick with the big boobs is looking at you.”
“I know, she busted me checking her out,” I finally said.
“Yeah, now she’s checking you out,” Pretty Boy laughed.
“She caught me off guard,” I said as I took in a breath and composed myself. My mouth was still dry and pasty. “Christ dude, I need a beer.”
“Don’t worry bro, there’s a ton of beer on this boat,” Pretty boy said. “And soon we will be cracking them open.”
Our cabin was located in the wretched bowels of the floating beast among twisting corridors so narrow that you had to side step when passing another person. This was where the majority of the crew members, mostly Phillipinos, South Americans and Dutch were housed. Dishwashers, laundry workers, maintenance, garbage collectors and so on, lived like sardines in tiny cabins the size of a small bathroom with a shower-toilet combination, a set of bunk beds and a small useless desk. I was sitting on the top bunk shaking my head in disapproval. If either me or Damon wanted to change our clothes, one of us would have to either wait on the bunk or stand out in the hall.
“This is no good,” I said. “We’re down in the deepest pit of the ship like sewer rats.”
“Yeah you’re right, ” Pretty Boy said, looking around the small shit hole of a cabin. “I don’t know how Dave and I stayed in here for the first cruise. We are the scuba instructors damn it. We need a bigger cabin like the ones the performers have. They are huge compared to this.”
“Who the hell do we need to talk to?”
“We can talk to Jean the activities director and she can talk to the House Master,” Pretty Boy said as he rubbed his stubble chin.
“Let’s go now. We can’t stay here,” I said while jumping off the upper bunk. “Christ, you can smell someone taking a big dump four cabins down. This is unhealthy.”
After talking with Jean, explaining that we need more room due to the amount of files, text books, training aids (Which we really didn’t have) and our scuba equipment we had to keep, even though we kept in up on the 10thdeck in a locker by the salt water pool, jean went and spoke with the housing officer. Shortly after, we scored a nice size cabin located just above the water line. It even had a large round porthole. We were on the same deck and same rows with the singers and dancers, the piano man, the bartenders and chefs. But best of all, the french maid house cleaning girls were on the opposite side just a few doors down.
The first night of the cruise, Pretty Boy and I had a special duty. A task of utmost importance. We were given cruise ship credit cards loaded with money and instructed to dress in our suits and ties. Our task was to mingle with the passengers in the ball room and buy them drinks on our cards. Of course whenever we would buy a drink for a passenger we’d buy ourselves a drink as well. Jean advised us to use the cards when buying drinks for our own personal consumption in moderation. Moderation is a stupid word. If someone hands me a booze card and says, “Your job is to drink with the tourists,” then that’s what I am going to do. I got hammered and so did Pretty Boy Damon.
“You have to let me buy you a drink now,” said a tall blond American sitting next to me on the posh, red velvet sofa. I had bought her and her husband several rounds already.
“OK,” I said, “I can handle that.”
“Do you want another beer?” she asked with a ruby red lip smile. Her name was Rhonda and she was attractive in a plain way. She wore little make up other than her lips and had just enough tiny crows feet on the corner of her eyes to indicate wisdom and strength in her character.
“No, I think I’ll have a Jack Daniels on the rocks with no ice.”
She
