Finally the lurching about has started to ease off. That is, the wind has reduced from gale force 9-10 to a mere 7! By lunchtime I was able to sit up and leave the cabin. I even managed to help Peter with his first class. Once the group was in and Peter had started, I sat outside, too tired and nauseous to do anything more.
The ship had stopped lurching back and forward, which was good. Sadly however, it now seemed to prefer to throw its contents side to side. Weirdly, this seemed easier on the stomach, and more and more people were emerging from their cabins. Thing is, the sea and ship were lulling us into a false sense of security, and although it seemed that the rocking and rolling was beginning to calm down, it was actually getting worse. Every so often the ship would be caught in a massive wave or dip, and everyone and everything inside was tossed around like washing in the dryer. I was thrown out of my chair to skid along the carpet into the craft room door, (carpet burns to prove it). On another occasion, nearly every chair in the Columbus Lounge slid across the floor, hurling the occupants into a pile at one end. These chairs were followed by a globe centre piece, which must have worked loose of its fixings, skidding its way across the centre of the room to topple onto one of the fallen passengers. Quite scary!
Luckily no one was seriously hurt, and the concerned crew soon cleared the area so that no-body else could have a go at the helterskelter, but sadly the problems didn't stop there.
Everywhere around there were crashes and clatters as equipment and breakables were thrown about by the ships' movement. Peter watched a cleaning trolley hurtle down a passage, closely followed by the three cleaners chasing it. I made it to dinner, and watched bemused as plates, glasses, cutlery and food trays slid from the tables and shelves they were resting on. Passengers, waiters and kitchen staff grabbed wildly at whatever they could stop, but the carpet definitely got more than its fair share of the dinner that evening. It sounded like the kitchens were losing just about every piece of crockery the ship had, judging by the smashing and clattering going on behind closed doors, and we saw one of the passengers be thrown across the room, fall over the dinner table to crash into the floor. The poor lady had to be stretchered away.
But as the evening wore on, it began to get better, true, we were still being thrown from side to side, but not quite so severely and people were getting wise to it. As we sat in the Captains Club, everyone periodically grabbed their drinks as the bottles behind the bar clattered in their racks and the floor tilted to another precarious angle.
All in all not a good Christmas Eve. In fact, the last couple of days have been so bad that management have decided to change the itinerary. They've worked out that we won't get to Gibraltar or even Lanzarote on schedule and it would be much better if the ship could put into port and everyone could eat a Christmas dinner that wasn't trying to escape the dining table. So instead, we're going to La Caruna, Spain. We'll arrive about 11 am tomorrow, and we won't leave until 1 pm Boxing Day. I am so looking forward to the floor staying level for a short while. Bliss! I'm sorry I'm not going to see Gibraltar though.
The ship had stopped lurching back and forward, which was good. Sadly however, it now seemed to prefer to throw its contents side to side. Weirdly, this seemed easier on the stomach, and more and more people were emerging from their cabins. Thing is, the sea and ship were lulling us into a false sense of security, and although it seemed that the rocking and rolling was beginning to calm down, it was actually getting worse. Every so often the ship would be caught in a massive wave or dip, and everyone and everything inside was tossed around like washing in the dryer. I was thrown out of my chair to skid along the carpet into the craft room door, (carpet burns to prove it). On another occasion, nearly every chair in the Columbus Lounge slid across the floor, hurling the occupants into a pile at one end. These chairs were followed by a globe centre piece, which must have worked loose of its fixings, skidding its way across the centre of the room to topple onto one of the fallen passengers. Quite scary!
 |
| The Columbus Lounge |
Everywhere around there were crashes and clatters as equipment and breakables were thrown about by the ships' movement. Peter watched a cleaning trolley hurtle down a passage, closely followed by the three cleaners chasing it. I made it to dinner, and watched bemused as plates, glasses, cutlery and food trays slid from the tables and shelves they were resting on. Passengers, waiters and kitchen staff grabbed wildly at whatever they could stop, but the carpet definitely got more than its fair share of the dinner that evening. It sounded like the kitchens were losing just about every piece of crockery the ship had, judging by the smashing and clattering going on behind closed doors, and we saw one of the passengers be thrown across the room, fall over the dinner table to crash into the floor. The poor lady had to be stretchered away.
But as the evening wore on, it began to get better, true, we were still being thrown from side to side, but not quite so severely and people were getting wise to it. As we sat in the Captains Club, everyone periodically grabbed their drinks as the bottles behind the bar clattered in their racks and the floor tilted to another precarious angle.
 |
| The Captains Club |
No comments:
Post a Comment