The first night of our cruise to Mexico and Belize, we hit a storm. There was, as my husband put it, “No whoopee but lots of rolling in the bed.” The boat moved as much as if we had been in a train and was about as quiet. My sisters and I were all in separate cabins thinking we were going to sink and that we were glad our brother hadn’t come so my folks would still have a child and how upset our parents would be when they heard that they had bought us tickets to death.
We didn’t drown, obviously.
But when I woke up at 6:30 this morning to go to the bathroom, I stepped into a miniature lake. I woke up Ron, started pulling suitcases and computers (!) off the floor, and got on the phone to reception. They said they’d send someone up right away. It was about five minutes and a guy came in, walked around our cabin, and said, “Sure enough. You have wet carpet.” (Of course, since he was from Romania his words and accent were a bit different, but that’s the gist.) He said they’d bring a dry vac in to suck up the water but not until after 8 since it was loud.
When they came back, the crew captain, the head supervisor, the plumber, and some other guy were there. The crew captain told them to pull up the carpet and put new in. He said to save the living room carpet, since it was new, and they would dry it out and put it in the crew’s quarters.
Since they said it would take four hours (It actually took seven.), they gave us another cabin to hang out in. It wasn’t an “owner’s suite,” which meant it was smaller. But it was much farther down, which meant it pitched less. I took a nap there quite happily.