Gluttony On The High Seas

Oasis of the Seas, the largest cruising ship in the world, docked at St. Thomas

I am posting this two hundred miles or so off the coast of Cuba. It is costing me 65 cents a minute to be online, so if I could figure out how to post using the Morse code, I’d do that. Instead, I’ll just type fast.

I am on the Oasis of the Seas, Royal Caribbean’s grand new ship, the largest cruising ship in the world. My husband and I have landed in this lap of luxury by using a credit card to pile up points and qualify for a free cruise. Suze O would no doubt disapprove of financing a vacation in this manner, but then she’s not basking in the Caribbean sun this morning, waiting for her 11 a.m. massage, now is she?

We have cruised before, although on nothing this spectacular. We began several years ago when we realized you could book a family vacation on a ship and not actually have to spend any time with your kids. (Anybody who tells you traveling with children is fun is flat-out lying). These cruise lines have great Kids Clubs on board, so all you have to do is herd the little darlings to deck 15 right after breakfast, hand them over to certified camp counselors and off you go. While you’re exploring various ports of call (which generally involves a lot of duty free shopping and Pina Coladas) your children are safely ensconced on board, stringing together puka shell necklaces and learning about The Secret Creatures Under the Sea and The Magic of Waves. You fetch the little sailors upon your return, feed them dinner, scrub them down, then pop them into bed.

This cruise is childfree. And this ship is like nothing I’ve even seen. It is 17 decks high and carries 6,100 passengers, not including crew. It is organized around seven “communities” including high rise suites that look out over  “Central Park,” with grass, meandering paths and 12,000 full grown trees and shrubs. You can zip line on this boat, rock climb, gamble, play miniature golf and take surfing lessons on the upper deck, where there are two wave pools. There are four swimming pools and half dozen Jacuzzis. You can even ice skate. There is an indoor rink on deck 4. There are dozens of high end shops, like Coach, and more than forty restaurants and bars. Some are open around the clock. And at many the food, which is fabulous, is included with the price of the cruise ticket.

All of which has left me a little uneasy. While everything is lovely and the service nothing but spectacular, it seems to me that this two year old cruise ship in some ways speaks to our seemingly unquenchable thirst for the biggest, the best, the next best thing. It is a mammoth floating testament to our fondness for excess, our need to be indulged. 

I mean, really. Have we become so demanding as consumers that we now think we should be able to ice skate on a ship sailing near the equator? (And am I the only one who sees the irony here? I flew fifteen hundred miles to Florida to get on this ship and escape ice, and now I can skate? Well, damn, it appears I forgot to pack my parka.)  

Off the coast of the island of St. Martin 

Do we really need the experience of New York’s central park, only a smaller version, when we are sailing some of the most spectacular waters of the world and visiting gorgeous tropical islands full of exotic fauna and wildlife? And isn’t it a bit strange to be making waves in artificial wave pools while on an ocean that has REAL waves seventeen decks below.

I fear that this is just one more example of how we’ve become less authentic in the way we live our lives.  Wouldn’t it be better to go climb real rocks, surf real waves, skate on a frozen pond in frosty woods? Do we want to do it on a boat just because we can say we did?

But back to the food. Maybe I never noticed this before but great food in all-you-can-eat restaurants open 24 hours a day produces a gluttony that should probably be declared illegal under maritime law. People eat and walk on this ship. People dance and eat. They get on elevators and eat. I’ve seen people sit in Jacuzzis and eat.

Let me tell you about my husband. When on vacation, his favorite time of day is eating time. Followed by nap time. Then casino time. If he could live on the Oasis full time, he’d be very happy, but soon dead of a food induced coma.

Yesterday morning, returning to the table after his third trip to the mammoth buffet at the Wind Jammer café, he attempted to conceal yet another three pieces of bacon under large chunks of pineapple on his plate. He thought he could get away with it. He was wrong. I am, after all, an investigative journalist. When confronted, he first tried to claim that he had “inadvertently” picked up the bacon. Because, yes, greasy pieces of pork can easily be mistaken for a whole grain muffin. When questioned further, he claimed the meat was in fact “turkey bacon.” In pursuit of the truth, I tasted it. That turkey once had a curly tail.

So we drift merrily along, stuffed and satiated and zip lining and rock climbing and ice skating on this floating city on the sea. Here are some interesting numbers. It takes six engines to take this 225, 282 ton ship through the Caribbean and costs $130,000 a day in fuel. This ship is so large that if you jog on the running track for 12 laps you will have logged five miles. (We managed one and a half laps yesterday before stopping for croissants.) On average, 34,000 people board each month, in other words, the entire population of Waterford Township. There is a multi-national crew of 2100 from 71 different nations. Crew to passenger ratio? Do the math. That’s one gracious Lithuanian or Chilean for every three bloated, self absorbed Americans.

And I still can’t get over the food. The kitchens on this ship use 82,000 eggs a week in preparing meals. Where do they even find that many chickens? In the course of a seven day cruise, passengers consume 15,600 pounds of chicken, and 16000 pounds of beef. And drink! Twenty thousand bottles and cans of beer, and 2,225 bottles of wine.

So does all this make for a perfect vacation? Will we all waddle off the ship on Saturday morning refreshed and ready to face our everyday lives? Does a week on the Oasis help nurture our souls in a world that sometimes seems soulless? 

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One morning, we left the ship for the day and went snorkeling in a place off St. Thomas called Turtle Cove. Green Sea Turtles grazed on the sandy bottom below us as we bobbed in the warm agua sea. A barracuda swam lazily by with his toothy grin. I floated on my back for a while, and watched the clouds drift in a brilliant blue sky.  A diving boat close by tossed fruit in the water and we were suddenly engulfed by a swarm of bright yellow fish, some splashing onto the surface, glistening in the sun.

Ah, I thought. Such luxury.