I’ve never really thought of myself as a cruise person.  I hate hot climates, I’m moderately claustrophobic, my idea of dressing up is putting on a clean pair of jeans, I don’t like prissy food, and I had no idea if I was prone to sea-sickness or not.  And Smooth Jazz Cruises?  Sounded like the epitome of a “lifestyle” event to me.  But it was hard to resist the idea of going on the Dave Koz and Friends cruise, especially since my company was footing most of the bill, and doing business on the cruise made it partly tax deductible!   Then there was the All Star Smooth Jazz Cruise.  It set sail the day after the Koz cruise pulled back into port, so I basically thought that would be out of the question.  But I was asked to revamp the All Star Smooth Jazz Cruise’s website and I said, “Sure, but instead of paying me, just comp me a room.”  So all of the sudden, this non-cruiser was booked on two back-to-back cruises.

I admit it.  I started getting excited about it all.  People kept telling me that I’d love it.  I certainly loved buying new clothes for it!  I booked my flights, made hotel reservations, got my passport, bought some new luggage, and before I knew it, it was time to go.  My husband, who would join me for the All Star Smooth Jazz Cruise the following week, dropped me off at the airport.  It was there I had the first glitch of the trip.  One of my bags was over-weight.  Duh.  I’m packing for two weeks of cruises!  But after unpacking and repacking at the check-in counter to redistribute weight, I was on my way to San Diego. 

One uneventful flight later, I picked up my (heavy) bags, met up with my friend and business partner, Susan Johnson, and headed to the Hampton Inn.  I was surprised to find that they had given us a nice assortment of loofahs, but really would have preferred towels.  I have two words for the people who do the laundry for the Hampton Inn… fabric softener.  I also have two words for the people at the front desk… customer service!  But all of this would quickly fade away as we boarded Holland America’s M/S Oosterdam the next day and entered what was pretty much a fantasy life for the next two weeks.

Onboard, we were pampered and catered to by the wonderful staff.  We were immersed in the music we love from the overhead speakers to the many shows offered each evening.  There were no claustrophobic episodes onboard; we had a large suite.  Dress was very casual except for a few evenings.  I didn’t get sea-sick.  The food was not as prissy as I imagined it would be either.  And I was actually delighted to see the confused looks on most of my fellow passengers’ faces as we all tried to figure out what all ten or so pieces of silverware were for each of our place settings.  Fortunately, the wait staff helped us by removing or handing us the appropriate piece. 

But early along in our exploration of the ship I found what would become my new mantra.  There was a sign posted at each door that led outside to the promenade deck that said, “Mind Your Head.”  Under it was a sign that said, “Watch Your Step,” but I wasn’t as taken by that one.  I should have been, but I wasn’t.  But I loved the “Mind Your Head” exhortation.  Susan thought it to be an impossible task for me, and I guess that’s why I liked it so much.  It fascinated me – even challenged me, if you will.  It would pop into my consciousness as we stood in long lines waiting for the main shows to start each evening. (Did you know that smooth jazz fans can get very rowdy standing in line waiting for concerts?)  It would pop into my consciousness as each day we were presented with enough food to feed a Third World country.  It would pop into my consciousness as I watched in awe at a stage full of extremely talented musicians playing together and having such a wonderful time.  It popped into my consciousness as I stood on the balcony of my suite and looked at the Mexican countryside, or as I stood on the top deck of the M/S Conquest the following week and looked at the Jamaican countryside.  It particularly shouted at me as I watched the sun set at sea. 

But there was that one time when I was busy minding my head, when I should have been watching my step.  And I paid the price for that.  On the very first shore excursion of the very first cruise, I fell.  Truthfully, I wasn’t minding my head either at the time.  It was a sail and snorkel excursion.  We got on a catamaran and sailed around for awhile and then dropped anchor in a cove where we could all jump off the boat and go snorkeling.  I’m not sure what part of “I’m moderately claustrophobic” I forgot, but I boldly jumped into the water, fins and all, and proceeded to strap a mask on my face and stick a tube in my mouth to breathe through. 

I vaguely recall Susan saying, “Just relax and breathe normally.”  I was panting like a lizard.  I tried a couple of times and realized that it just wasn’t going to happen for me, so I swam around a little and decided to get back on the boat.  That’s when I forgot to mind my step.  And I didn’t fall just once, but twice.  The first time, I caught myself with my right thumb.  Yes, that did indeed hurt.  But I got to my feet and took about two more steps and fell again, this time twisting my knee.  At this point I should mention that the crew on the catamaran was very helpful by giving me ice and their version of medication… a strong margarita and a tequila shot.  I also discovered that the ship’s infirmaries are really hard to find, but the medical staff is nice and very competent.  The ship’s doctor that week was even an ER doctor in his real life.  The final word, “Nothing is broken, but be sure to see an orthopedist when you get home about the thumb.”

I was forced to spend the rest of both cruises watching my step, but at times like this you just can’t let a little thing like pain slow you down too much.  There is too much to do and only a couple of weeks to do it.  I had dolphins to pet and lines to stand in!  Fortunately, I also had some really good friends who were willing to stand in line for me, and when my husband joined us the following week, I had someone to lean on everywhere we walked.

And if the second cruise was not as perfect as the first – disorganization, rough seas, smaller cabins, less pampering from the staff – hey, I was a veteran cruiser by then.  It was ok.  The music was awesome both weeks, and there was something really special about bumping into Wayman Tisdale in the buffet line, and sitting next to David Benoit at lunch by the pool, having lunch with Rick Braun, and watching old friends step up on stage and play together, and sharing it all with close to 3600 other smooth jazz fans.  If I get a chance to do it again, you can be sure I’ll do it!  Only next time, I’ll try to mind my head AND watch my step.

- Elizabeth Ware