The Cruise from Hell

Anyone who suffers from motion sickness will attest to it being a horrible feeling. So, when my wife came to me wanting to go on a cruise for a week, I immediately said no. I offered a compromise of a holiday to the beach and left it at that.

We had shared bank accounts and linked credit cards, but as I was the main breadwinner, I was the primary cardholder. So, when statements were posted to us, they had my name on them.

About two weeks after the conversation about the cruise, I arrived home from work to find I had mail. In one, I discovered a letter of congratulations from a cruise ship company. I brought it to her attention, and her lack of remorse saw me on the phone with them to see how much of the nearly one thousand dollars we would lose to cancel. The person on the phone told me that we would lose almost the whole lot. So, I had to resign myself to the facts as they were.


We arrived at the cruise ship terminal. My wife's parents, sister and brother-in-law, along with their two young children (and our own two kids) had also booked cabins on the cruise. I had done my research and had the very best pills to alleviate nausea. I was determined to get the most I could from the experience.

As is the way with Murphy's law and tales of the sea, a large tropical storm was brewing out in the Pacific Ocean, and although the Captain's announcement assured the passengers he would steer as clear from it as possible, the large swells created by the storm were to accompany us for most of the seven days and nights onboard our ship.

Because of this, I simply could not eat unless I was blindfolded and spoon-fed...which I would have gladly accepted, yet, nobody seemed too interested in doing. My little problem of buffets crammed full morning, noon and night, but no stomach to hold that food down long enough to gain any nutritional value from it flew over the top of the heads of my fellow ship's guests...and also over the ship's railing.

Then one night, coffee began to pour down one of the walls in our cabin...yes that's right...COFFEE...and I am not talking about an accidentally spilled cup of jo...no no no...this was pouring from the joint between ceiling and wall at a rate that had us flooded out in just an hour. Apparently, the galley was above us, which explained the loud noise of voices yelling and dishes crashing at all hours and of course, the coffee that had now reduced to a mere trickle.

So, the carpet in our small cabin was soaking, and the smell was not the pleasant aroma we get while passing our favourite coffee shop...no, it was more of a stench. We stood back as the different departments argued about what to do with us (which we couldn't understand because we don't speak French). There are rarely spare rooms available, and we (she) splurged the extra for a balcony cabin. Then, the genius solution was to place carpet drying fans near the doorway blowing into the already stinking cabin. I had my doubts that in the few hours until we were going to bed, that this final solution was going to succeed.

With our anger building, we decided to complain about this mess we found ourselves in (the only positive was I forgot about my seasickness for a while). Nobody in the purser's room could speak English, so more time was spent waiting for somebody who could help. Finally, the next decision was to move us out and into another cabin...way down in the bowels of the ship, and a far cry from what we paid for, and expected.

And that was when I lost it. After viewing the cabin they expected us to move to and finding it not up to standard, I went back to the purser's office and demanded someone had better find us a better cabin or the Captain's quarters were being commandeered for our remaining time aboard the good ship 'Condemnation'.

And then a Frenchman, who was of an indeterminable rank, said something to the group (who had assembled I assume in case this mad Australian was to go truly berserk) I didn't understand, yet everyone else both understood and agreed to with huge smiles and nods. We were told to go collect our things from the cabin located within the dank bowels of this ill-fated ship and return to our original room. When we arrived, the old coffee-soaked carpet was being removed and replaced with a brand new one.

So, other than me being sick for a week, no one could swim in the pool because the water was sloshing back and forth like a washing machine, the laundry was ankle-deep in water throughout the entire seven days, and all through the ship, buckets were set out in various places catching water from the ceiling above, it was the worst holiday ever.

After we got back, we wrote to the cruise company, complaining of all that went on, and they generously offered us a discount on future cruises with them...an offer I not so politely declined.