Beneath the Surface 23

Sea DAY 16th
At seven thirty I took a shower while Marrissa remained in bed. She was out for the count and still snoring. I went for breakfast and then to the back deck (a covered crew area full of ropes and metal) to practice chi-kung. That was the only way to keep me sane. Chi kung balanced your energies and enabled you to quieten your mind and remain focused. Alternatively I could take a big stick and hit something. It seemed my choices were limited and I could not find a stick.
While I was practicing on the back deck I had what I call a ‘bubble’ moment. A bubble moment was when you hit an energy blockage or emotional suppression. The bubble burst and the suppressed feelings rose to the surface. In such moments I often retched and cried. On that back deck, when the bubble burst I began to feel very upset. It was very easy to struggle with emotion and suppress it; that would not help. With such a lack of privacy all I could do was pull up my hood, pull down my baseball cap and let it out. In that moment I realised my team consisted of great people - we could have had so much fun. It was time for us to forget that we had been mislead and have as much fun as we could. I had to live for the now and live as best I could. Anger would just make me ill so I had to be mindful of my thoughts and emotions.
I cleared my mind and continued my practice, I had to let go and surrender. Everything was out of my control. When I was complete I went and sat watching the bow waves. To my right was a punch bag. Something about it made sense. Glancing around I side stepped towards it. Smack! Whack, whack, smack! I knew where my anger could be released. Whack! Ken’s face.
Whack! I thought about Robert’s self amusement and imaginary tumble weeds rolling past. Admittedly he was doing his best. He was trying to motivate us against all the odds. Whack! He was putting in a huge amount of effort in to prove a point and make the ship money. Whack! He was fighting a loosing battle and the truth was the type of photography we were providing was considered worthless. Whack, whack, WHACK! We had been given the incentive to churn out images: quantity over quality. Whack! Whack! How would Robert feel that day? Dealing with angry moods in a confined space was not good for anyone. God I hoped he’d got laid the previous night. I hoped the Swedish stewardess had developed a sudden ‘thing’ for him. That would at least put a smile on his face and the illusion of tweeting birds, floating flowers and sunshine songs would emanate from his very being as he skipped the corridors. It was possible; he had gone to the Ship’s barbeque where the Swedish stewardess was prime game (not in terms of barbequing). Of course this was reality and unfortunately I had seen her flirting with one of the waiters. Could there possibly have been a miracle? Please… Please… Please! Whack! Whack! My knuckles were red, but God did I feel better! Somehow I had to get hold of some bag gloves then I could release my fury on a regular basis on an inanimate object! WHACK!

More ship’s training.
Marrissa and I had more emergency training. To say it was disturbing was an understatement. The original film showed us how to deal with an emergency. In such a panic situation only six out of ten passengers actually reacted. Imagine a real emergency and how you would react. For me survival instinct would always kick in.
According to the training many of the passengers fell into a state of shock. What’s more it took one guest to panic and their behaviour resonated creating panic amongst the other guests. In a crowd emergency situation there was always a wise guy who thought he knew better or who would complain. His behaviour would ‘infect’ the other guests and make them question what they were advised to do. That individual had to be separated from the rest otherwise lives would be endangered.
The safety officer was the kind of man who was straight down the line. A cow was a cow not a black and white, grass chewing ruminant. What’s more he had experienced two emergencies and survived. The first was when a giant wave caused an engine black out. The waves were so massive that crew and passengers were thrown all over the ship like ping pong balls. Why did I just think of Thailand when I wrote that?
‘One of the crew was thrown two decks from a balcony,’ he said. ‘When I asked the fellow officer to hold a towel to the crew member’s head to curb the bleeding he said NO! He did not want to be near blood, he could get AIDS.’
What a caring individual. It turned out that even though the stewardess was completely damaged and laying on deck, she managed to press the towel into her own head.
‘What has the world come to?’ he said shaking his head.
Further into the training he played us a scene of a ship sinking.
‘The Greek officers don’t care about the guests and are usually the first off the ship. I know. I worked with Italian and Greek officers. In our emergency they deserted the passengers. There were only a few of us left to help,’ he said honestly. ‘The ship did not completely sink but we were close,’ he said folding his arms - remembering.
I couldn’t help but mimic and crossed my arms and legs. I didn’t like what we were being told. The DVD showed a young stewardess fighting through thick smoke to check all the staterooms. She tied a white towel to all the handles of all the cabins she checked. Once she had completed the search she could then go to her muster station. In terms of time and reality - she would die. Had anyone else noticed? Training in efficient death.
Something about the film triggered my memory of one of my previous ships. It collided with a submerged rock in Antarctica and what did the passengers do? In a state of panic they attended the buffet. What was even stranger was how not one single passenger asked me what was happening? It seemed they were in denial or extremely hungry. Wouldn’t you be curious as to why the expedition leader was standing in a passenger area wearing a bright orange survival suit looking shifty? I would.
During the disaster the officers told us to not make the emergency look like an emergency. There I stood wearing the orange survival suit, a woolly hat - reading a newspaper. It was definitely not an emergency - the reading of a newspaper stated that. The harsh reality was the survival suit enabled me forty eight hours survival. The passengers had five minutes survival time if they fell in the water fully clothed. Was it any wonder that I made my decision to return to land five years ago?
If an emergency took place the guests were initially directed to the muster stations. Muster stations were usually a lecture theatre, a lounge or a cinema. Once inside a role call was made and the passenger names were checked off the manifest. Those who were not present were reported to the bridge and a crew member was sent to find them. Everyone had to be accounted for. In an emergency there was no lift usage. Since many of the guests used wheelchairs or ‘strollers’ specific crew members were allocated to those guests; but what was expected? Did the crew carry the buggers to safety? For a pittance of pay a cruise line expected so much of the crew.
I noticed within the film a repetitive message - in fact there were five or six repeats. ‘Often crew and officers make heroic acts in emergencies,’ the voice said.
‘Often crew act heroically to help guests!’ It said a few moments later.
‘We should be able to cope with all emergencies,’ said the overly American voice. They seemed to have forgotten ‘we don’t want you to think for yourselves.’ Or, ‘you’re your life should be sacrificed for a cruise line who thinks its okay to treat you like shit!’
The problem was that the staff were taught through repetition and it seemed the messages were drummed into them.
During the break I went to the Safety officer, ‘so what is with the subliminal messaging?’ I asked.
He studied me and considered his answer, ‘the company has been taking on cheap uneducated labour to cut costs. The messages in the film are there purposely,’ he said.
Something made sense, cheap staff would be grateful for the inadequate conditions and would not question what was taking place. They would ignorantly accept being fed and having a bed. They would be grateful for anything they were given - but would they sacrifice their lives?

The training continued. It was interesting how often faced with an emergency most people maintained their routine. As an example one guest continued to gamble: one passenger was due a pay out from a slot machine. When rounded up for evacuation she refused to leave the one armed bandit until she won. It seemed that money was more important than life.

It was odd being fed examples of disasters. Take for example the Sun vista - a fire in the funnel resulted in the ship being evacuated. The lifeboats were not maintained and many of the lifeboat engines failed. The crew had to row the lifeboats to safety. When a ship sunk it caused a suction which could effectively pull the lifeboats down with it. That was why lifeboats and life rafts had to maintain a safe distance. Ideally at least one and a half ship’s lengths was necessary.

The Oceanus in 1991.
The Captain ordered the crew to evacuate but did not inform the passengers. Apparently he didn’t want to create a major panic. In the end the entertainment staff took responsibility and created a full scale evacuation. The emergency was initiated when the ship was hit by a huge wave which knocked a hole in the bow. The floors below flooded; above deck the passengers remained unaware. A number of guests noticed officers looking panicked heading towards the lifeboat, but since people resumed routine no one questioned what was taking place.
Admittedly the training was comprehensive but it still freaked me out that such disasters could happen to a massive cruise ship. In my time at sea I have experienced a grounding, explosions, fires, collisions and a bombing on land. Somehow we always got through… I considered everything I had experienced, I hoped that the Symmetry would be okay. Admittedly I had learned a lot in that training - if passengers acted like sheep take control and command them!

After training on how to survive a disaster I then returned to the gallery where I learned espionage. You might think I was joking but the gallery was next to the lecture theatre and the talk that day was how espionage worked. Brilliant! Could the day get better? I could unintentionally be trained on how to become a spy. How many people could say that?
Admittedly the lectures were very interesting. Although I was less enthralled by the hip replacement lecture but who knew when such information would be necessary. Hang on! Was there an agenda? Was I being subliminally trained to be a spy who did hip replacements as a decoy. Amazing!
Essentially there were three stages of espionage. The gathering of information, the analysis and the action through policy. That was the boring bit but I learned you could be tracked by mobile phone, even if you removed the battery. What’s more all your movements could be tracked over the previous two years… Somewhat freaky don’t you think?
The lecture was excellent but the ship was rolling. The Pacific was having a big wave day and the passengers were zig zagging all over the place. Some even rebounded off walls and chairs. You could often tell which guests were drunk because they were the only ones who maintained a straight line. Also, what I loved about imminent bad weather, was the sudden appearance of white bags around the ship. Obviously they were put out for potential vomit, yet the gesture was amusing. ‘Ah the bags have arrived,’ said Jose strolling past.
‘Vomitus projectilus maximus catchus,’ I said.
He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.
In the mean time the strangest thing I saw that day was a person in a wheelchair rolling back and forth with the motion of the ship. I didn’t know whether I should get involved and put on the break. After surveying the area for potential catastrophe I came to the conclusion the guest was content. Of course the proximity of the stairs was a bit of a concern but I worked out if there was a particularly large wave I had three seconds to get to them. I think I was becoming transfixed, I had to stop looking - the motion of the chair rolling made me feel queasier than the motion of the ship.

Beneath The Surface 22

After Marrissa’s response Robert gave us a twenty minute break. Just as we were leaving the cabin the phone rang.
‘Hello. There is no body here,’ I answered.
‘Very funny,’ he said. ‘Either one of you can have another twenty minute break and then swap. It’s not too busy and you both worked hard today.’
‘We have twenty more minutes… Although one must go up and then we swap,’ I said quickly.
She understood and shook her head.
‘I have a really good idea you go and I stay here!’ I said cheekily.
‘No I better, you go…’ she said back.
We had sussed each other out and in Marrissa’s mind I still owed her for the top bunk.
When I returned to the gallery I glanced out of the window, the rain had returned. Unfortunately Robert had plans for us to make a final lap of the decks.
Whilst standing in the gallery I wrote my diary and glanced out of the window. The rain had calmed and at that precise moment Robert emerged from the darkroom with a camera. It was clearly understood what I had to do.
When I arrived on deck it hadn’t stopped raining, a few moment later Marrissa arrived.
‘Why we photograph again?’ she asked.
I shrugged.
‘He say we stay up here until leave Panama,’ she said.
Two hours outside in the rain photographing empty decks resulted in a total of fifteen pictures.
On our return I saw our takings: six hundred dollars. For all those hours of hard work I had earned a total of twenty dollars - just over one dollar per hour! Brilliant. Where was the motivation in that?
The problem with cruise ship photography is that it is commission based. That was your motivation to hassle the passengers for a photograph. In normal life people booked me and paid a handsome fee for bespoke portraiture. It was odd to say the least to actively force people to be photographed. Madness.

That evening Jose seemed more relaxed. Robert had gone for a break and Marrissa was re-arranging all the photos. Jose and I watched some of the old women dancing with the gentleman hosts.
‘They’re all at it,’ he said. ‘Dirty old buggers,’ he said in his unique accent.
‘What are they at?’ I asked.
‘Sex Felicity - sex! Some of them have offered to pay me for sex too,’ he said matter of factly.
Thank goodness I was not drinking at the time otherwise liquid would have shot out of my nose.
‘What?’
‘It has happened quite a few times, some have slipped me notes and whispered that I could make a good tip,’ he said.
‘You’re joking?’
‘No Felicity, it’s not worth joking about. They ask me to come to the room. Some even know that me and Alida are together and they still ask,’ he said.
He was so honest and matter of fact about it. I understood the old dears would notice an attractive and charming Columbian, but to ask him outright for sex. I couldn’t get over it. Where’s the theatre? You want have sex? I’ll tip you!
‘One even asked me how much I made per month, I told her and she said I could pay you enough to cover your whole contract,’ he said.
‘What she offered you a hundred dollars?’ I said with a smirk.
Jose gave me a jestful shove.
‘Have you ever considered it?’ I asked.
Jose shook his head, ‘it would be like sleeping with the batman’s joker in female form and do I want nightmares for the rest of my life?’
‘I guess not,’ I replied. ‘You could always use a paper bag with eye holes,’ I said.
‘More like a plastic bag with no holes,’ he replied.
‘Jose!’
‘You know what the waiters get propositioned all the time,’ he said.
‘Do they… You know?’
He shrugged, ‘Who knows? I don’t pay attention to such things. You do know that if you are invited to a cabin and are found inside you can be fired?’
Admittedly that was in the Sparkle essentials training. What they had failed to say was, ‘do not shag guests - even if they offer to pay you!’

That afternoon I ran into Colin in the atrium, I had met him the morning I was practicing chi gung. He too was practising Tai Chi. He was a dark haired man in his sixties. He had a wonderfully calm but professional atmosphere.
‘Hey,’ he said.
‘Good afternoon,’ I replied.
‘Ah you don’t have to be formal with me,’ he said.
‘Colin I have to formal with all the guests, remember I serve you,’ I said.
He nodded, ‘I haven’t seen you out on deck practising,’ he said.
‘Oh I have been working, plus I practice in the crew area whenever I can,’ I couldn’t tell him I wasn’t allowed.
‘Well I was going to suggest we practice together but I guess it isn’t possible,’ he said. ‘Anyway I have to admit that I am perplexed.’
‘About what?’ I asked.
‘Well what makes Felicity - Felicity?’ he asked.
‘Well I guess I am a professional photographer who practices yoga, chi kung and meditation. That is the way I release my stress and remain calm.’
‘But why are you here? It doesn’t add up,’ he said honestly.
‘I wanted to spend the English winter travelling and this opportunity came up,’ I replied.
‘I think there is more to it than that, something about you is mysterious. I have an intuition about it but I can not work it out and it is bothering me,’ he said looking flummoxed.
He was right, but I was hardly going to say I’d had a hard time splitting up with my boyfriend and that the Foreign Legion had been equally as tempting.
‘So Colin what makes Colin colin?’ I asked - the perfect distraction.
He smiled, ‘played at my own game.’
‘Colin is a retired business man who now likes to luxuriate, play golf and practice Tai Chi. He has worked hard all his life to enjoy the finer things, now that the finer things are affordable!’
‘And?’
‘And that is all. Simple, straight down the line and not mysterious at all. By the way there is something going on with you. You are not all you seem are you? A person doesn’t get to sixty and have no sense for people,’ he said with a wink.
His wife emerged from the boutique with numerous bags, ‘honey this is Felicity, the photographer who does the chi kung.’
‘Oh Colin has been talking about you,’ she said.
‘Did you buy anything nice?’
‘Two scarves, a couple of polo shirts and a sweater,’ she said looking ‘shopping’ pleased.
Colin glanced at his wife, as if asking permission. ‘Erm Felicity is there anyway you could join us for dinner?’
I shook my head sadly, ‘unfortunately there is a division between staff and guests. So as much as I would love to I am not allowed.’
Colin frowned, ‘how about asking the hotel manager?’
‘I think it’s possible, but first we would have to ask my manager,’ I replied.
Colin studied me, ‘I guess that would be where the difficulty lies. Hmm. Would you like to have dinner with us?’
‘Honestly, in ‘real life’ I would love to; but since I am staff I have to behave as staff,’ I answered.
A curious smile graced his face, , ‘I think something is beginning to add up now.’
‘Honey we have to get ready for dinner,’ said his wife.
‘It was lovely chatting with you Colin and lovely to meet …’
‘Elayne,’ he said.
With that the pair held hands and walked in the direction of the lift. In a daze I wandered back to the gallery. It was so humiliating to not be ‘allowed’ to dine with guests. Can you imagine saying that in real life? Sorry I am not allowed to have dinner with you? I am not allowed…
The rest of the evening was spent in a quiet gallery. I jotted down notes to transfer to my laptop in my cabin. Once in the cabin Marrissa climbed up to her bunk and fell asleep instantly. I quietly typed up the last part of the diary to the rhythm of Marrissa’s snores. I laid in the dark, with my curtains closed. I laid thinking about the diary; I wondered how glamorous ship life now appeared through the writings. I read back over some of the writings. It already sounded horrific, still I intended to stick to the plan and reveal the whole truth. Marrissa just farted and rolled over- I guess there had to be boundaries on the truth.
During the last hour I attempted to adjust my mind set using affirmation. I searched for positives and realised there had been some good moments. The guests were great; some had even asked for my business card. I had no problem with giving them it. Essentially I was freelance- so why not? Plus I had no allegiance to a company that lied; strangely their lies had set me free. Thoughts of the other ship sailed into my mind. Could it be worse than the symmetry? Actually it didn’t matter - if it was my last contract maybe it was a chance to push myself to the limit. How much could I take?