I just returned from an eight-day Caribbean cruise with my family. And when I say my family, I mean my whole family. David and I had the great pleasure of traveling with my parents, our three kids, my sister, and my niece and nephew to celebrate my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. My mom and dad had been planning the trip for years, and it was an amazing time to be there together, relaxing and celebrating.
That is not to say I didn’t have my fears and trepidations. I am a horrible swimmer and—truth be told—am basically afraid of water. A psychic once told me it was because I had drowned in three previous lives. And all I can say is that I don’t want to go that way in a fourth. Also, I am an over-protective mother and get wildly anxious when I don’t know where everyone is at all times. Plus I am super-sensitive to loud music and over- stimulation. It makes me grumpy. Sometimes really grumpy. All in all, maybe I was not the ideal candidate for a cruise.
But I adore my family and I am so proud of my parents, so two Fridays ago, I boarded the gigantic Carnival Breeze in Miami. And believe me, I mean really gigantic. The Breeze has a half-mile promenade and weighs 128,500 gross tons. It sleeps 3,690 passengers and 1,386 crew members. That’s 5,076 strangers cooped up in a ship for 8 days, all determined to have the vacation of a lifetime. Or—in the crew’s case—to cater to the every whim of nearly 4,000 “cruisers” who are determined to have the vacation of a lifetime.
But what could have been a nightmare of close-quarters and crabby, self-centered petulance turned out to be an inspirational demonstration of self-governance. Given what flying is like in 2013, I expected sailing to be equally rife with rules, regulations, policies, enforcement codes, along with a finger-wagging purser making sure that people’s seat belts are fastened and that – God forbid– no one gets in the wrong line or takes a drink outside of a pre-marked, Coast Guard-approved area.
But it wasn’t like that at all. In fact, there seemed to be very few rules and even fewer crew members who relished in their enforcement. It was basically: don’t light anything on fire, don’t run on slippery decks, and make sure you know where to go in the case of an abandon-ship-order. Other than that, folks were left to make good decisions on their own.
And here’s the thing—it worked beautifully. I rarely heard cross words amongst strangers. (Families—on the other hand—well, that’s another matter). People introduced themselves in the elevator, opened doors for one another, smiled and waved as they passed. They checked in with kids who seemed to be on their own and shared drinks with strangers. It was stunning really.
I did come off the ship thinking that Carnival must be the most disciplined company in the world. To a person, the crew was friendly, helpful, and gracious. Butch Begovich–the Breeze’s cruise director—is a force of nature. But not in the creepy way you might imagine. Now, he does do a mean version of Gangnam Style and hosts everything from a board-game based game show to an updated version of the newlywed game. But despite all the trappings, Butch and the entire staff virtually brimmed over with kindness and generosity. Every time Butch addressed the assembled masses—in person or over the loud speaker—he referred to us as “the Carnival Breeze family.”
And in that environment, people rose to the occasion. They didn’t snap at each other or rush to go first. They didn’t push in line or make loud demands. They didn’t bark at the crew. They just had a good time and tried not to interfere with anyone else having a good time.
Of course, maybe that’s just it. Maybe it is that no one is in a hurry, everyone’s in a good mood. There’s nothing to do except relax, so of course people were on their best behavior.
But, let’s be honest. It’s not always like that, is it? In fact, sometimes the pressure to maximize pleasure actually brings out the worst in people. It makes them more—rather than less—willing to trample on other people’s feelings in order to get what they want. So, I don’t think it was just the vacation factor.
I think some of it was the tremendous generosity of the crew. It would be hard to be nasty in the face of such goodness. But I also think some of it is the trust that Carnival put in its own passengers, crew, and guests. They didn’t impose millions of rules and subrules and enforcement strategies. They just set a standard of kindness, led by example, and expected people to rise to the occasion. And they did.
Of all things, a cruise ship carrying 5,076 souls around the Eastern Caribbean gave me new hope for our ability to govern ourselves. It gave me hope that we can give and receive kindness freely and that we can live in close quarters with strangers. It inspired me to think maybe we should relax the rules just a tiny bit, share a pina colada with a person we would never ordinarily speak to, and trust in each other’s essential goodwill and impulse toward kindness.
Hey, what do you think? Maybe we can pitch in and send the House of Representatives out for a spin on the Breeze. . .
