General Delivery

How you can get mail delivered to you anywhere in the country without having your own mailing address there.

I’ve been living for more than a week or month at a stretch in temporary homes at various times for about twenty years now, mostly for work but increasingly for vacation. Sometimes it’s a hotel or motel, sometimes its at a short term rented space, and, sometimes it’s at a location that simply does have a mailing address — like the backwater campsite where I spent nearly two weeks at the beginning of the month. Often, I’ll need to get something shipped to me while I’m away — perhaps a package of mail being forwarded or an item I ordered from Amazon. That’s easy enough when I’m staying someplace with a regular mailing address, but what if I’m not?

Last week was a good example. Tired of transporting my kayaks inside the Mobile Mansion on this year’s snowbirding trip, I decided to order a roof rack with kayak supports for the roof of my new used truck. I did some research online, found a good solution at a reasonable price on Amazon, and ordered it. I didn’t want it shipped to my home, since neither the kayaks or the truck were likely to be back there for a few months. And I didn’t want it shipped to my friends in Wickenburg, where I’d be staying much later in the month. I wanted it shipped to where I was then: Ehrenberg, AZ.

Amazon Shipping Label
Here’s the FedEx Home delivery label on my package from Amazon. Because I included the post office’s street address, it was delivered to the post office and held for me. (Please do not ship anything to me at this address; it is temporary and I won’t get it.)

So I used the post office’s General Delivery service.

General Delivery is a service that makes it possible to ship something to someone who doesn’t have a mailing address or even a post office box in a specific town. You address the package with the recipients’ name, the words General Delivery (very important), and at least the city, state, and zip code of the post office you want it to go to. The USPS has a format example on their website. Add postage and mail it. When the package arrives at the destination post office, it is held for the recipient, who normally has to provide identification to claim it.

On Rural Post Offices

I just need to say a few things about rural mail and package delivery. It’s not like you might experience in the big city.

The biggest difference is that the postmaster and mail carrier, as well as the UPS and FedEx drivers, really get to know the people they serve. The post office will call when you receive a delivery of something unusual — for example, live chicks — so you can come pick it up as soon as possible. UPS and FedEx know where it’s safe or not safe to leave a package on a doorstep. When my gravel road is difficult to traverse because of snow or my UPS driver has a lot of deliveries, she’ll text me to meet her somewhere on her route or make arrangements to leave my package with someone else or at the Post Office. She’ll also let me take packages she might have for my neighbors to save them the bother of retrieving them at the UPS office when snow keeps her off our road.

In some rural locations, the post office is a center of the community, with publicly accessible bulletin boards for posting For Sale items, access to local news, and people who gather outside to chat with neighbors.

And there’s almost never any sort of line in the post office.

There is one big drawback as far as my local post office is concerned: they close for about an hour every day at lunchtime (so the clerk can get lunch) and are only open for two hours on Saturday. And you thought “bankers’ hours” were bad.

This works extremely smoothly for anything sent via US Mail. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve picked up General Delivery packages sent to me in places I’ve visited throughout my travels.

There are a few caveats:

  • Some post offices that receive a lot of General Delivery mail for seasonal residents may request that you get on a General Delivery list in advance. Ehrenberg, which gets a lot of Quartzsite snowbirders, is an example. To my knowledge, this is not required, but if you expect to get a lot of mail you really should talk to the postmaster or clerk to see what they prefer.
  • The post office has no way to notify you if it receives a package for you. If you don’t know something is coming, you probably won’t pick it up. So if you give the address to a friend or family member, remind them to let you know if they’ve sent you something.
  • The post office receiving the item won’t hold it forever, so you want to pick it up within a reasonable amount of time. Each post office varies on how long it will hold an item.
  • You normally have to wait on line with other customers to ask for the package at the counter. So if you have several post offices near where you want the item sent, pick the one that’s the least busiest to save time at pickup. (I chose the Malaga post office over the Wenatchee post office for my summer mail forwarding from my old Arizona home because there was never a line in Malaga. Oddly, not only did I meet one of my best friends there — who happens to be the postmaster — but I wound up moving to Malaga when I relocated in 2013.)
  • Some cities have multiple post offices. Make sure you use the zip code that applies to the post office you want an item delivered to.
  • This is pretty much guaranteed to work with any item shipped via USPS. Items shipped by other means — FedEx or UPS — might not be delivered. It depends on the post office and how the item is addressed. If you include the street address for the post office, which you can find in Google maps, the carrier may deliver to that post office. What the post office does with it is likely up to the postmaster there. In Ehrenberg (and Malaga, for that matter), they will hold the item like any other General Delivery shipment. Other larger post offices might not. When in doubt, ask in advance or use USPS for shipping.

Unfortunately, Amazon shipped the two components of my kayak rack system separately. One arrived via FedEx at the post office on Friday. I called ahead to make sure it was accepted before I drove over. (You can do that with small post offices; try that in Manhattan or Phoenix.) The other is scheduled to arrive on Monday — Martin Luther King Day, when the post office is closed! I can only assume that the rural FedEx driver knows not to attempt delivery on Monday. With luck, I’ll be able to pick it up Tuesday.

So the next time you spend an extended amount of time away from home and need something shipped to you, consider the local post office. It’s easy and safe.

Snowbirding 2016: The Colorado River Backwaters

Nearly two weeks at my first destination: stress-free to the point of euphoric.

Posts in the Snowbirding 2016 Series:
Introduction
The Colorado River Backwaters
Quartzsite
Wickenburg
Phoenix
Home
Back to the Backwaters
Return to Wickenburg
Valley of Fire
Death Valley
– Back to Work

I arrived at my first snowbirding destination before lunch on January 2 after four trying days on the road.

Well, the last day wasn’t trying at all. I left an RV park in Las Vegas where I’d overnighted so I could flush the winterization fluid out of the plumbing, fill my fresh water tank, and fully charge the RV’s batteries. I also stocked up the fridge and pantry. Ahead of me was an easy 3-1/2 hour drive almost due south. Somewhere in California, on the dip-filled road between the Nevada border and Blythe, CA, the last bit of Wenatchee snow blew off the RV’s roof and smashed onto the pavement behind me.

By that time, I was feeling so happy to be on the road with my rig that I was almost in a state of euphoria.

It was a feeling I’d have again and again during the subsequent days and weeks.

Getting There

Backwaters Map
There are numerous backwater areas along the Colorado River in Arizona. This is BLM land where camping for up to two weeks is free.

My friends Janet and Steve were camped out on a backwater arm of the Colorado River about six miles south of Ehrenberg on the Arizona side. Janet had assured me that there was plenty of room for the Mobile Mansion and, after a quick stop at the truck wash near the Flying J truck stop to find out what it would cost to wash my RV, I turned onto the gravel road, homing into my destination.

At Camp
The Mobile Mansion at camp.

Janet was waiting for me about 1/2 mile before the turnoff. I followed her into a large, level campsite with gravel and dirt surfaces just far enough off the road to be completely private. Her little RV and their big three-horse slant load horse trailer were already parked and set up. Steve pointed to an area where they suggested I parked. After getting out, sharing good-to-see-you-again hugs, and setting up my parking cones — visual guides to help me back up — I backed my rig into the spot. A quick check of the level just inside the door showed I was already perfectly level. No need for leveling blocks. Within minutes, the landing gear was down and the Mobile Mansion was unhitched. A few more buttons pushed and the four slides were out. They gave me a hand pulling my two kayaks out of the living space and shoving them underneath.

We chatted over lunch and I went back to the Mobile Mansion to finish setting it up. You see, when I’d picked it up at the sale lot in East Wenatchee that Tuesday, it had been empty. After all, it had been for sale and I’d cleaned it out. Fortunately, because I expected to replace it with another rig, I’d packed all of its gear into a pair of large plastic bins I had. So when it came time to get the gear back on board, all I had to do was put those two bins in the Mobile Mansion’s basement — that’s what I call the storage area underneath — along with linens, clothes, and the other odds and ends I wanted with me. I loaded everything into plastic bins so that if I sold the Mobile Mansion while I was away, I could pack everything back up, toss the bins into the back of my truck, and later unpack them into a new RV. Or just drive them home.

I’d set up my bedroom on Wednesday morning, while I was waiting for the Ford dealer in Pasco to fix my old truck. (You can read all about the fate of that truck and its replacement in another blog post.) And I’d set up part of the kitchen while I was in Vegas the night before. My job that afternoon was to unpack the remaining the bins, put everything away, and then pack all the bins into one of the big bins in the basement. It didn’t take long.

I should mention here that in my excitement to take delivery of my new truck and get back on the road on Thursday, I’d forgotten my small suitcase at the Ford dealer. I was about halfway between LaGrande, OR and Boise, ID when I realized it. It wasn’t a catastrophe. I had plenty of clothes in the RV. But I was missing some toiletries and my glasses, which would become a royal pain in the butt if I had to pull one or both of my contact lenses. I’d already called the sales guy who’d helped me and he promised to put the suitcase in the mail to get it to me in Arizona. I’d given him a General Delivery address at Ehrenberg. Of course, he had to wait until Monday to do all that because of the holiday. I had it by Wednesday.

Once I was unpacked and had opened a bottle of wine — I brought a case and half with me from Washington so I could share my local favorites — I got a chance to take a closer look at our campsite. I was parked on one side of a clearing facing Janet’s little trailer, which was facing away from mine. Outside its door was a campfire pit shaped like the number 8, with a big area for a campfire and a smaller area for grilling. Behind her trailer was the horse trailer with some portable panels and electric wire fencing creating a very large enclosed space for the three horses Steve had brought along.

To one side of the campsite was a gravel boat ramp that went — as you might expect — right down into the water. Beyond that was the backwater, lined with tall reeds and normally glass smooth. We had the place all to ourselves.

Backwaters View
I shot this photo from the boat ramp at our campsite on the day I arrived. If you look closely, you can see Janet fishing from one of their boats.

We spent the evening polishing off two bottles of champagne in front of the campfire to celebrate our reunion.

The Routine

Over the next almost two weeks, our lives at the backwater settled into a sort of routine. I’d wake up, normally before sunrise (which was at about 7:45 AM) and spend some time in bed catching up on Twitter and Facebook and reading a book or the news on my iPad. Once the sun shined into my bedroom window — my front door faced east — I’d get out of bed, get something warm on — more on that in a moment — and then make my coffee and breakfast.

Sunrise
Sunrise was absolutely amazing one morning.

The Dogs
Janet and Steve’s two dogs: Tasha and Lucy (or Lulu).

Janet and Steve and their two dogs would emerge from Janet’s camper a while later. They’d start a fire and I’d go over with my coffee and sit around with them. We’d make some plans for the day and eventually do them — sometimes together, sometimes separately.

Campfire
The campfire was the center of relaxation in the morning and almost every night.

Then, at dinner time, we’d make a joint meal. One night, Janet made fish tacos with fish she caught nearby; another night, I made pork tenderloin; another night, she made pasta; another night, I made sausage. One or the other or both of us would come up with accompaniments: a vegetable or salad or bread. We usually ate around the campfire but we did eat inside the Mobile Mansion a few times. When we ate around the campfire, we’d follow up with conversation, often reminiscing about “the old days” when we all lived in Arizona. When we ate inside, we usually played Exploding Kittens after dinner.

Living Off-the-Grid

Understand that we were camping completely off the grid. No hookup at all. That means we had to have enough water and power and holding tank capacity for toilet flushes.

I started the stay with the Mobile Mansion’s 60-gallon tank full of fresh water and its three holding tanks — black, gray, and galley — empty. I’d also brought along all four of my 6-1/2 gallon water jugs, full of water. So I had 86 gallons of fresh water. Janet’s smaller rig had considerably less on board, but they’d also brought along three 6 gallon water jugs full of water. During the almost two weeks I was there with them, I wound up emptying four of my water jugs into my RV for use. So I used just over 80 gallons over the two weeks for washing dishes and myself. I didn’t shower every day, so that saved water, but Janet and Steve each had at least one shower in my rig, mostly because it held so much more water than Janet’s. I used bottled water for drinking, making coffee, and cooking.

The rest of the water pretty much went to the horses. Although Janet and Steve originally led the horses down the boat ramp to drink a few times a day, we started giving them water from our jugs early on. That spoiled them and they sort of decided they didn’t want to drink river water anymore. (You can lead a horse to water…) Fortunately, an odd little convenience store in Ehrenberg let you fill as many water jugs as you liked for $1. So every few days, one of us would go over there with the seven jugs and a short length of hose and fill them up. Sounds like a pain in the butt, but it really wasn’t a big deal. We’d do it when we went out to do something else — often to buy lottery tickets. (The huge Power Ball jackpots were during the time we were there.) While we were out, we usually refilled the drinking water jugs at a place with RO water, which was generally better. The horses didn’t get that.

Electricity was another story. Janet did fine with a tiny solar panel attached to her one deep cycle RV battery and the electric fence for their horses was powered by its own solar panel. I had a sizable solar panel on my roof that charged my rig’s two deep cycle batteries — and provided a charge monitor to see battery levels in volts. Trouble is, the Mobile Mansion, like so many other rigs its size, is designed to be used in a trailer park with a full hookup. It has numerous devices that draw power from the battery all the time — standby, phantom, or vampire power, as it’s sometimes called. So between the stereo (which is always lit up, even when not in use), the water pump (which is constantly sensing pressure), the water heater (which is constantly sensing temperature and then igniting when necessary), the furnace (which is constantly sensing temperature and then igniting when necessary), the refrigerator (which has a light inside when the door is open), the various smoke and carbon monoxide detectors, and god knows what else, the batteries simply weren’t holding enough charge to last though the night. The result: when battery power dropped down below a certain level — usually around 9 volts — the furnace wouldn’t fire and it would get very cold.

How cold? Have you ever seen your breath while you were still in bed? I was very glad to have flannel sheets, a blanket, and two comforters on me.

Although I don’t have my outside air temperature gauge in the Mobile Mansion anymore, local weather forecasts had nighttime lows in the mid thirties. I’m pretty sure it was about that inside my RV one morning when I got up. I know that I really enjoyed sitting on my steps each morning when the sun came up and it soon got warmer outside than inside.

Generator
My Honda generator is small and relatively quiet.

Fortunately, I had a solution. I’d brought along my 2KW Honda generator. Although I hated to use it, I hated being cold even more. After a few experiments, I realized that if I ran it for about 2 hours after sunset, I’d “top off” the batteries enough for them to last through the night. The batteries were even more likely to last if I also shut off the water heater and water pump before going to sleep and set the thermostat at about 55°. The heater cycled on and off fewer times and kept the chill out. Then, when I got out of bed in the morning, I kicked it up to 65° and was warm enough inside by the time my coffee was ready.

Of course, none of this would be necessary if (1) the days were longer and (2) it was warmer at night. Still, since I usually ran the generator while we were eating dinner at the campfire and Hondas are pretty damn quiet, it didn’t bother anyone. As an added benefit, I got to charge all my devices a lot quicker and even used the microwave one night.

As far a the toilet flushing is concerned, RV toilets give you control over how much water goes into every flush. I used very little. Not only did I not fill that tank in two weeks, but I didn’t smell it at all.

Activities

We spent our time at the backwaters doing a number of things.

Janet Fishing Again
Janet shows off excellent casting skills on the Colorado River.

Fishing.
Janet went fishing just about every day. She learned that the fish start biting at 4 PM and was out there from around that time until after sunset. She came back with at least one fish every day. I wanted to fish but I didn’t have a license and suspected that I lacked the patience and know-how to actually succeed.

Penny on a Kayak
Penny usually sits on the front deck of my kayak when we’re paddling. One day we paddled all the way down to the end of the backwaters.

Kayaking.
I brought along two kayaks and went out a few times. The first time, Janet took the other kayak along with her fishing gear. She quickly learned that she couldn’t properly control the boat while she fished, so that’s the only time she kayaked with me. One day we had Steve drop us off about two miles up the Colorado River from our camp. I paddled my kayak and Janet took her little pontoon boat and flippers (with her fishing gear, of course). We went down past our camp, then paddled up one of the nearby backwaters where Steve picked us up again. Total distance covered was 3.7 miles.

Flipper
Here’s Flipper, a 25-year-old mare who didn’t seem to mind having me on her back. She still has a wonderfully smooth lope.

Janet on Cerro
Here’s Janet on her horse, Cerro.

Horseback riding.
We went out twice. They put me on Flipper, a horse they’d had for about 15 years. I’d ridden her once before, long ago. She did fine. Afterwards, they told me I was the first one who’d ridden Flipper in about five years. The rides weren’t long, but they were pleasant. We did both of them on cloudy days and were drizzled on once. We saw lots of signs of wild horses or burros in the area.

Rock Slide
It might look as if I could squeeze by those boulders, but with a 50-foot drop down with loose soil on the left in this shot, I wasn’t about to try.

Ruins
I have no idea what this was, but I do know a lot of spray paint ended up here.

Exploring.
I took the truck south along the Levee Road one day. I’d driven that way years before with my wasband, not long after buying the Mobile Mansion. We were looking for free places to camp back then — so odd that years later I’d be camping in one of them without him. This time, I went much farther. At one point, there was a rock slide that left boulders in the road. I got out and tried to move them but couldn’t. I backed up along the narrow road to where I could turn around and a huge tow truck passed me toward the slide. So I followed him back there. The truck stopped, two guys got out, and they rolled all the boulders out of the way. They continued and I followed them. Later, I stopped at the ruins of some sort of vandalized building. I crossed the river to the California side and tried to come up the river on that shore. I eventually headed into Blythe where I had lunch and did some shopping before going back to camp.

Lock
Fixing the lock on my door was pretty simple to figure out once I’d disassembled the whole thing.

Cleaning the Awning
I used my truck as a ladder to clean the underside of my awning.

Maintenance and repairs.
I did a lot of little maintenance and repair jobs on the Mobile Mansion. For some reason, the bottom lock — the deadbolt — on my door didn’t work. That meant I couldn’t lock the door from the inside. I wanted that fixed so I took the door latching mechanism apart. A screw had come loose and a bar that worked the locking mechanism had slipped off. A little work with my screwdriver and it was good as new. Another day, I extended the awning and cleaned the bottom side. (The top was already remarkably clean.) Another day, I took everything out of the basement, swept the floor, and washed it before putting everything back neatly. I added oil, a tiny bit of Gum Out, and fuel to my generator. I worked some WD-40 into the hinges on my front steps. I went up on the roof to clean the solar panel and check for cracks in the roofing material. (There were some along the edges that might need attention.) I thoroughly cleaned my stovetop, under the stovetop, and oven. I neatly recoiled all of my electrical cables and hoses and hung them in their proper places in the basement. I added distilled water to all the cells on both of my batteries. I organized all of the equipment in my truck.

Trips into town.
As mentioned earlier, we occasionally went into Ehrenburg to get water or lottery tickets. I headed into Blythe a few times to do grocery shopping, buy things I needed at the excellent Ace Hardware Store there, and do laundry. I went to Quartzite once to buy propane and see what was going on.

Dutch Oven Pineapple Upside Down Cake
Steve made an amazing pineapple upside down cake in his dutch oven using coals from the fire.

But the best part of our stay — the part I seemed to enjoy most — was the evening campfire, especially when we cooked over the mesquite coals. Steve made us a pineapple upside down cake in his dutch oven twice and it was amazing both times. And the stars — I’d forgotten how clear and dark the Arizona sky can be.

SAD, Cured

I have to admit that 15 years living in Arizona had spoiled me. It’s not the temperature. It’s the sun.

Back in Washington, I realized that despite the general brightness of winter days at my home, I needed sun. As December set in and the shadow time at my home began, I realized that I was suffering from SAD: Seasonal Affective Disorder. I was feeling out of sorts. Not quite depressed, but not my normal active, upbeat self. Some friends advised me to get sunlight light bulbs. I opted for the real thing: sunshine in a warmer climate. That’s the main reason I headed south at December month-end.

It worked.

I can’t remember ever feeling so relaxed. It’s like I haven’t got a care in the world. As I mentioned earlier, I feel almost euphoric. No one is putting any demands on me, there are no meetings to attend, and there are few chores to take care of. I do what I want every day, when I want to do it. While this is also true at home — and home tends to be a lot more comfortable than the Mobile Mansion, especially on a cold night — there are always things that must be done at home: chores, little construction projects, etc. On the road, there’s very little of that and none of it can’t be put off for a few hours, days, or even weeks. Even the maintenance and repairs I listed earlier are things that didn’t really need doing. I think that’s what made me enjoy doing them.

No Wake
How can anyone have any stress in their life when they’re relaxing in peach and quiet with friends in such a beautiful place?

And I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well: four nights in a row, I slept a full 10 hours straight. Even on the nights when I reverted back to my normal 6-8 hour sleep cycle, I slept solidly, almost like the dead. I was very surprised to have missed a torrential downpour one night that resulted in a puddle so large in the campsite that I named it Lake Louise. (It dried up within a day.) Could it be because the Mobile Mansion’s queen size bed is comfy and cosy with flannel sheets and plenty of blankets? Climbing into bed is like slipping into a warm cocoon. And when I wake up and eventually climb out of bed, I’ve got tons of energy, ready to face the day.

I’m thinking that all this has got to be because of the plentiful sun, slightly longer days, and relatively warm air that’s giving me an emotional and physical boost. Back home, the short winter days and abundant (this year, anyway) snowfall made me feel closed in and almost trapped. Here in the sun, with the desert all around me, that closed in feeling simply can’t exist.

And no where is that more apparent than in the backwaters, camping in total privacy with good friends.

The Next Stop

All good things must come to an end and our backwaters stay is one of them.

On January 13, Janet packed up her van and little trailer and pulled out. She had a booth at one of the shows at Tyson Wells in Quartzsite and needed to get her trailer into position before the booths around her set up.

Steve and I spend most of that Wednesday packing. He had to pack up the horse trailer and I had to pack up and secure loose items in the Mobile Mansion. On a whim, I brought the kayaks to Janet’s space in Quartzsite that evening so I wouldn’t have to pack them inside my living space. When I got back to camp, I hooked up the Mobile Mansion so I could pull out without a lot of fuss in the morning. I wanted to take the Mobile Mansion to the truck wash and was hoping to get there before anyone else so I wouldn’t have to wait.

Steve sat alone by the campfire that night. I stayed in and wrote a blog post to introduce this Snowbirding adventure. My generator hummed under the window at my desk until I was ready for bed.

In the morning, I’d make us both coffee before putting away the last few things and heading out.

More on that in another post.

Snowbirding 2016: Introduction

I officially become a snowbird.

Posts in the Snowbirding 2016 Series:
Introduction
The Colorado River Backwaters
Quartzsite
Wickenburg
Phoenix
Home
Back to the Backwaters
Return to Wickenburg
Valley of Fire
Death Valley
– Back to Work

If you’re not familiar with the term snowbird, it refers to a person, normally retired, who migrates seasonally to more appealing weather. Usually, the person lives in a northern climate and migrates south for the winter, like a bird might. Occasionally, the person lives in a warm climate and migrates north for the summer. I have friends in Arizona who do that. And then there’s a whole separate class of snowbirds who live full-time in RVs and travel around the country for the best weather and activities and places they like.

When I lived in Arizona — which has brutally hot summers — I was fortunate to have summer work that took me north to cooler climates. Now that I live in Washington, I’m fortunate to have free time and late winter work that makes it possible to go south to warmer climates.

I’m not retired — not yet, anyway. I feel semi-retired and often tell people I am. Most snowbirds are retired because usually you need to be retired from a job to have the freedom to travel seasonally. When I wrote books for a living, I could have had the same lifestyle, but I chose to stick with the man I thought was my life partner; unfortunately, he valued a steady paycheck over a flexible lifestyle. Fortunately, I don’t have him holding me back anymore.

I did some traveling to Arizona last year. I house/dog-sat for some friends in Wickenburg while they were away and turned my visit into an extended stay. It was nice getting back into the sun and seeing old friends. But I had a lot of work ahead of me at home — I’d started construction work on my living space that winter and was eager to finish up and move in. So my visit was short — about two weeks? — and I didn’t really get the snowbird experience.

This year is different. When I’d had enough of this winter’s extraordinarily generous snowfall and began really craving sunshine, I consulted a mostly empty calendar and started thinking of the invitations that were trickling in from points south. I had at least three potential destinations:

  • Some very good friends in Wickenburg (northwest of Phoenix, where I used to live) told me that I was welcome to stay in their guest house “as long as I liked.” While I didn’t think they meant the two months that I was interested in, I knew I’d be able to stay there at least a week. I looked forward to seeing them and visiting with other friends in town.
  • Some other friends were staying in their RV in the Quartzite area. My friend is an artist and shows her work there. But before the show, they camp out in the Colorado River backwaters south of Ehrenberg, AZ where they relax and fish and have campfires at night. This year, they’d have three horses with them.
  • For the fourth year in a row, I got a frost control contract in California’s central valley. The contract normally runs from the end of February to the end of April. Although I’m not required to stay with the helicopter at my base there — they pay a generous call-out fee that covers the cost of me flying down from Washington when needed — I really like the area. I also get a great deal on an RV parking spot at the airport where the helicopter is based. I have friends there and even learned to fly a gyro with one of them back in 2014. It’s a great third destination.

I had other invitations to visit friends down south, too. A friend of mine in Salt Lake City invited me to spend New Year’s Eve with her and her son. Other friends with a new home south of Phoenix had a guest house bedroom waiting for me. I even had an invitation to spend some time with a friend in Tucson, if I decided to go that far.

What made traveling south for the winter a lot easier was having a place to live when I wasn’t a guest at a friend’s home: my unsold Mobile Mansion.

The Long Drive
The long drive. I had overnight stops in Pasco, WA; La Grande, OR; Boise, ID; and Las Vegas, NV.

So on December 29, I got the Mobile Mansion off the sale lot in East Wenatchee where it was waiting for a buyer, hooked it up to my truck, and headed south, leaving my home, chickens, and barn cat(s), in the capable hands of my house-sitter and her doberman.

Along the way, I got delayed due to truck mechanical problems that eventually killed my truck, bought a new used truck that puts all my past trucks to shame, and kept on going. I missed out on the New Year’s Eve celebration in Salt Lake, drove through an area of severe cold (like -19°F) that turned the wine and champagne stored aboard the Mobile Mansion to slush, spent my first night in the Mobile Mansion at an RV park in Las Vegas (of all places), and rolled into my friend’s Colorado River campsite in time for lunch on January 2.

Sam's Town
I bet you didn’t know they had RV parks in Las Vegas.

And I’ve been having a ball ever since.

I’m going to do my best to blog about each of the stages of my snowbirding experience. I don’t expect it to be what anyone might consider typical.

Some Thoughts on Travel

“We travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us.” – Anonymous

Ludwigsburg
Perhaps my wanderlust was fed by this 1976 trip to Germany with my grandparents. Or perhaps it’s in my DNA, planted by my maternal grandfather, who used to follow us on vacation when I was a kid.

I need to start off by saying that I love to travel. I love getting into a car or plane or train with luggage and going someplace and staying for a while. I love learning about new places, meeting new people, and seeing new things.

Travel for Work

In the past, I was fortunate to have had a series of jobs that sent me all around the country. My job as an internal auditor for ADP (based in New Jersey) sent me to Chicago, Kansas, Los Angeles, Orlando, New Orleans, Denver, and Washington DC, as well as a few places closer to home. Trips ranged from one to three weeks in length. The job was 40-50% travel and I was told I’d get tired of it. But I never did.

When I started out as a freelancer, I worked as a hands-on computer trainer for Data Tech Institute. They sent me on numerous trips all over the eastern half of the country, from Milwaukee to Cape Cod to Atlanta. The trips were three days each: a travel day followed by two work days with travel at the end of the second day. I remember one particularly busy month when I visited eight different cities with 20 airplane legs and a round trip train ride. While I was exhausted at the end of that month, I was also ready for more.

Later, my writing work took me to New York, Boston, San Francisco, Toronto, Vancouver, Santa Barbara, and Boulder to speak at conferences, meet with editors, and record video courses. I looked forward to every single trip.

Even my flying work got me traveling. Short trips to tourist destinations like the Grand Canyon, Sedona, Monument Valley, and Las Vegas. Overnight trips for survey and photo flights in northern Arizona, New Mexico, California, and Nevada. Training flights to the Los Angeles area. Long-term trips to Washington (where I later moved) for cherry drying and to California’s Central Valley for frost control. I loved those trips most — probably because someone was paying me to fly my helicopter there.

I simply loved to travel.

Don’t get me wrong — It isn’t because I didn’t like it at home — I did. (Well, I did until my marriage started falling apart.) I just liked to get out and get a new perspective of the world. And to me, that’s what traveling is all about.

The Stay-At-Home Rut

My future wasband and I traveled quite a bit during the first 20 or so years of our relationship. We had some amazing trips: Seattle to San Francisco by car; Shenandoah Parkway, Skyline Drive, the Blue Ridge Parkway, and the Outer Banks by motorcycle; and a handful of islands in the Caribbean by cruise ship are among the top 10. He even accompanied me on quite a few of my business trips — several times to California and once to Hawaii on my frequent flyer miles — and I went with him on a few of his.

Havasu Falls
I went to Havasu Falls for the first time in 2004 on an Arizona Highways photo excursion. Alone, of course.

But that ended in the mid 2000s when he started a series of dead-end jobs with limited vacation time. Suddenly, long trips were difficult to arrange and weekends were the only time he could get away. (Unless, of course, he needed to visit his mother; he could always make time for her.) I tried to get him to commit to one three-day weekend trip every month. Doesn’t sound like much, does it? But it apparently was.

I fell into in a stay-at-home rut. I wanted to travel — and I did actually make a few trips on my own — but unless it had some connection to my work, it wasn’t easy to do without having to deal with the resultant guilt trip my wasband put me on. You see, it wasn’t fair to leave him behind. Why should I have fun when he couldn’t? So I stayed at home, waiting, eventually looking forward to spring when I could go back to Washington, get a change of scenery, and spend time with friends. By that time, didn’t want to be at home.

Things are different now, of course. I don’t have a ball and chain holding me back. All I have is a 10-12 week period every summer when I’m stuck in the Wenatchee area for cherry drying work and another 8 weeks in early spring when I need to be within a few hours commercial flight time of Sacramento for frost work. I’m pretty much free to travel the rest of the year. Best of all, I don’t have to wait for a weekend to do it.

I got a chance to really stretch my legs in the autumn of 2012 and spring of 2013 with multiple trips from Arizona to California, Las Vegas, Washington, and Florida. I can’t tell you how good it felt to finally be able to go wherever I wanted whenever I wanted.

The Benefit of Traveling Alone

Beatty NV
My self-labeled “midlife crisis road trip” in the summer of 2005 lasted 19 days and covered 10 states. I saw a lot of off-the-beaten-path places, like this ghost town in Nevada.

Although I do prefer traveling with a good travel companion, I’ve only managed to find one — and she lives in Colorado with her own set of responsibilities. I thought I’d found another this past summer, but we apparently had different ideas of what “sharing the cost” meant. If I’m going to pay for more than half a trip, I’ll take it by myself so I don’t have to compromise with a “frugal” — his word, not mine — travel companion.

Compromise is only part of the problem when traveling with a companion. The other is spontaneity — the ability to make last minute plans and see them through. When there are two or more people traveling, planning a spur-of-the-moment trip is nearly impossible. Even making changes to travel plans once you’re on a trip is difficult. But when you’re running the show and you don’t have to worry about making someone else happy, you can do whatever you like, whenever you like.

And that’s where I am today. Loving it.

Recent Trips, Upcoming Plans

Since cherry season ended in late July, I’ve gone on several trips:

All that in three and a half months! It’s amazing I get anything done around here.

And that doesn’t include day trips to Seattle (for shopping), Woodinville (for wine-tasting), or local hiking trails and mushroom-gathering locations.

Right now, I’m thinking about other trips. I’ve already got an overnight trip to Spokane (yeah, big deal) with a friend planned. If I don’t spend the winter in Arizona, I’ll likely go on my annual cross-country skiing trip to Winthrop. One way or another, I’m sure Arizona will be a January destination — I’m thinking of driving down with my boat and stopping at various lakes along the way. Looks like I’ll spend part of the late winter in the Sacramento area again for frost; if that doesn’t pan out, I’ve got a job offer in Ohio that I’ll try to grab. (Yes, I do work for a living.) I’ll be back in Idaho with my boat to visit friends with a new home on the Spokane River and would love another trip to Alaska in May.

What about big trips, like the one I’d hoped to take with my wasband in late 2012 to Australia? Well, those are on the back burner right now while I finish my home and get my helicopter ready for its overhaul next winter. Once that’s all done and the dust has settled, I’ll be thinking about going way south for the winter of 2017/2018.

A travel companion would be nice, although not required. I’m looking for just the right person to join me.

A Bahamas Getaway

Four November days in the tropics.

Last week was my sister’s birthday. Because she was so incredibly supportive during my crazy divorce and while I was building my home, I decided to visit her in Florida.

And take her on a cruise to the Bahamas.

Regular blog readers may recall me writing about cruises just a month or so ago. They may have gotten the impression that I hated cruising. That isn’t true. My first cruise experience was amazing. My second was disappointing. I try to be open minded about these things. Maybe my second cruise was disappointing for reasons that had nothing to do with cruising. (Cruise companion, maybe? Just a thought.) I decided I needed to try it again to see if cruising was something I should embrace for future vacations or forget about.

Of course, I booked the cruise only a few weeks before the cruise date. And our dates were set — my sister had only certain days off from work. I needed a cruise that left from Florida and returned to the same place within the dates I had to work with. There were not many options, as you might imagine. I wound up going with the Norwegian Cruise Lines’ “4-Day” Bahamas cruise.

I put “4-day” in quotes because the cruise left on a Monday and returned on a Friday. Most tour companies would call that a 5-day cruise. But NCL is apparently not like most companies. We boarded at noon on Monday and disembarked at 9 AM on Friday. In my book, that’s almost five full days — even if most of Monday and Friday were spent in the Port of Miami.

Although I tried to keep the following short, there’s a lot to report and share. So grab a Bahama Mama and read on.

Day 0: Ft. Pierce and Miami Beach

We actually started in Elkton, FL, where my sister lives. That’s near St. Augustine in the far north of Florida. I waited until the last minute to tell her about the cruise. In fact, I waited until she asked me straight out where we were going. She’d guessed that we were going to Key West and I never told her whether we were or weren’t. I just replied that I liked Key West. But when she asked me on Saturday where we were going, I told her. Then I grabbed her passport and checked her in to stop the flood of email messages I was getting from the cruise ship company warning of dire consequences if we didn’t check in on time.

On Sunday, we drove down to Ft. Pierce. My 76-year-old dad is recovering from a motorcycle accident. Yes, he was the one on the motorcycle. A broken nose, 6 cracked vertebrae, 2 broken ribs, and 4 broken pelvis bones later, he’s got a lot of healing to do. Intensive care in the hospital followed by a week or two in rehab and now home with a hospital bed in the living room, wheel chair, and visiting physical therapist. It made sense that we should visit him on our way to Miami, so we did.

Three Langers
Three Langers: me, my sister Laura, and my daredevil dad.

He looks a lot better than I expected, but he’s lost a ton of weight. He never was very heavy (I didn’t get my fat genes from my father’s gene pool) and now he’s pretty bony. I hope he puts some weight back on soon.

But not before he can walk.

He knows his motorcycling days are over, but since he lives on the water, I think this is a perfect time for him to replace that old Honda with a WaveRunner. Hitting the water likely won’t break as many bones.

The Beacon
The Beacon Hotel on Monday morning. That’s Laura smoking in the shade out front.

After a great lunch at a local fish place, my sister and I hit the road, continuing our journey south. I’d made reservations at The Beacon at Miami’s South Beach. It’s one of the many historic art deco hotels right on the ocean. We got in just after dark and the whole Ocean Drive strip was hopping with live music and people enjoying food and drink at the dozens of sidewalk restaurants. I was very glad to hand over the car to a valet.

I’d mentioned in my reservation that it was my sister’s birthday and was pleasantly surprised to find a bottle of champagne chilling on ice in our room when we arrived. As you might imagine, I wasted no time opening up that puppy. The two of us drank about three quarters of it before Laura dozed off. When it became clear that she wasn’t fit for partying, I changed into something more suitable and went out on my own. After an invigorating walk up and then back down Ocean Drive — with plenty of photos taken along the way — I found a restaurant with a menu I liked. My dinner consisted of white gazpacho, escargot (in the shell), and a vodka martini with four olives. The key lime pie I got for dessert satisfied my craving — and south Florida is the only place you can get a decent key lime pie. I’d tell you the name of the restaurant, but I can’t remember or figure out on Google Maps which one it is. (Remember, I started the evening with about a half bottle of champagne in me.) I do know it was between 6th and 7th Streets, with outdoor dining that spilled over onto the sidewalk as most South Beach restaurants do.

South Beach at Night
South Beach at night.

Needless to say, I finished off the rest of the champagne when I got back to the room.

Day 1: Port of Miami

Miami Beach Sunrise
Sunrise at Miami Beach. I watched the sun rise on every single morning of my Bahamas trip.

The next morning, we were up before dawn and headed out to watch the sun rise over the ocean. I mean, why not, right? We saw a few cruise ships and a container ship come in. Then back to our hotel for our included breakfast. We called for the car, checked out, and loaded up for our real destination: the Port of Miami where the Norwegian Sky awaited.

There was a lot of traffic.

We were all checked in by 10:45 AM. Then the wait for boarding time. I didn’t realize that the check in time and boarding time could be as much as 2 hours apart. We had to wait until noon. Then we were in the first boarding group and on board the ship, checking out our cabin, by 12:15 PM.

A few things about the ship: Norwegian Sky is a smaller ship, built in 1999 but renovated most recently in 2013. It holds just over 2,000 passengers and just under 1,000 crew members. Passengers can access decks 3 through 12. There are three pools, 5 hot tubs, at least a dozen bars, 2 “freestyle” restaurants, a buffet, and 4 specialty restaurants. And a spa and a gym and some shops and a casino. You know — the usual cruise ship stuff. It was definitely not a deluxe ship, but it was in extremely good condition and immaculately clean.

I’ve always cruised with a balcony cabin and I’m not about to downgrade now, so I got us a midship outside cabin on Deck 9’s port side. The cabin was small but had two narrow beds, a small sofa, and a desk with a chair. The bathroom was small but functional and the climate control system was absolutely silent. The balcony was private with enough space for two chairs and a table.

Cabin 1 Cabin 2
Our cabin on the Norwegian Sky.

I know that some folks say that a balcony room is a waste of money. How much time do you spend on the balcony? In my case, a lot of time. My problem is that I don’t like hanging around with loud, drunk strangers (and their kids, who really should be in school). Apparently that’s a good description of about 50% of a cruise ship’s passengers. So while they lounge around the pool getting drunk[er], make repeat trips to the buffet getting fat[ter], and do their best to emulate a frat party at a school where academic achievement is not high on anyone’s priority list, I’m doing my best to avoid them. A private balcony overlooking the Caribbean or a port city is perfect for this.

Miami Beach
A view up Miami Beach from the comfort of our balcony as Norwegian Sky pulled out of port on Monday evening.

We spent much of the early afternoon wandering around the ship, getting to know it a little better. We found food and later found our bags as they were being delivered to our cabin. We unpacked. Later, we watched the ship pull out of port, which is something we’d do each day. Then we showered and dressed for dinner.

People who know me know that I’m a bit of a foodie. So when I booked the cruise and was offered a choice of beverage, dining, or $50 excursion voucher, you can bet I took the dining package. That entitled us to three meals at one of the specialty restaurants. These turned out to be rather impressive fine dining establishments with great food, wonderful service, and an atmosphere guaranteed to turn off most of the partiers. The regular price also played into who would dine at a specialty restaurant — they ranged in price from $19.99 to $29.99 extra per person. Of course, we didn’t have to pay this.

Lots of folks asked me if I got the beverage package. This would entitle me to all the alcohol I could drink every day. It also explains why so many people were perpetually drunk. But although I do enjoy wine with dinner and a nice vodka martini now and then, I’d much rather have good food every night than get shitfaced drunk every day. Does that honestly surprise anyone?

The first night, we had steaks at Cagney’s, the steakhouse on Deck 12. It was a great meal. At the end of the meal, they brought a third dessert and sang Happy Birthday to Laura.

Pool Deck at Night
The pool deck early in the evening, before things really started rocking.

We didn’t do much afterwards except walk around and marvel at the number of people crammed into the four hot tubs. I don’t know about you, but the idea of sharing a hot tub with up to a dozen drunk strangers grosses me out.

The party had begun.

The had boat started to roll a little in the offshore swells while we were at dinner. That brought back memories of my first cruise, when I’d battled seasickness one evening — formal night, of course — in rough seas. But things soon calmed down and it was smooth sailing by the time we went down to bed. The sea was kind to us for the rest of the trip.

Day 2: Freeport, Grand Bahama

We slept with the door to the balcony open. It was much warmer outside than inside, but with the air conditioner adjusted just right, it was very comfortable in the narrow but cozy bed. Best of all, we could hear the sound of the waves against the hull as the ship steered through the Straits of Florida on a dark, moonless night at about 8 knots.

How do I know we were moving at about 8 knots? The GPS on my phone. I am a geek.

I woke at about 3 AM and stepped outside. I could still see the glow from Miami far behind us, reflecting against some low clouds to the west. There were a handful of lights much closer and I used my binoculars to study them. Over the next few nights, I got the knack of distinguishing ships from lighted buoys and cruise ships from tankers and cargo ships.

Comm Tower Reflection
The communication tower at the front of the ship, shot from Deck 12. Note the reflection; the crew washed the decks pretty much every morning.

By 4 AM, I realized I wasn’t going to be going back to sleep. I slipped on a pair of lounge pants, grabbed my slippers and room key, and headed out in search of coffee. I’d been told the night before that coffee wasn’t available until 6:30 AM, but I suspected that wasn’t exactly true. I poked around a bit, wandering decks where crew members were busy cleaning up the previous night’s party. Two guys were hard at work power washing the wooden deck around the pool. I walked barefoot in the wet areas to keep my slippers dry and donned my slippers in the dry areas.

I discovered that the best place to see in front of us was the area outside the forward bar on Deck 11, where I could stand at the railing with the wind blowing through my hair and clothes. Upstairs, on Deck 12, the forward deck area had a high glass panel that blocked the wind and made photography sketchy.

Eventually, I made my way to the port side of Deck 11. Some crew members were working in the sport bar there and when I asked them about coffee, they guided me to a pair of urns — regular and decaf — positioned just outside the roped-off buffet area. I filled a cup while kitchen staff worked hard to stock the serving area with the cold and room temperature items we’d soon be eating: fruit, yogurt, jams, jellies, butter, dried fruit, granola, bread. The hot items would come later, just before the buffet opened. I was thrilled to get good, hot coffee before 5 AM.

Frankly, I think the cruise line is missing out on a revenue opportunity. If they kept the coffee bar on Deck 7 open 24 hours a day — instead of waiting until 11 AM to open (what’s up with that?) — they could be cleaning up on espresso and latte sales around the clock.

Coffee in hand, I went back to the cabin. Laura was still asleep. I drank coffee on the balcony, then got dressed, grabbed my binoculars, phone (camera), and journal and headed back out. I camped out on the aft area of Deck 11 with a fresh cup of coffee and wrote in my journal. My only complaint is that the music was too loud. Indeed, I’d later realize that there was music pretty much all over the boat almost 24 hours a day. So not only was our balcony the most private outdoor space, but it was also the quietest.

Laura found me a while later. We watched the sun rise as we came into Freeport Harbor.

Freeport Sunrise
Sunrise, on approach to Freeport Harbor.

Carnival Fantasy at Freeport
The Carnival Fantasy followed us into port.

Dock workers and crew men had almost finished tying up the ship when another ship crept into port. It was the Carnival Fantasy, a ship roughly the same size as ours, which we’d see again the next day. The port, which was dead quiet when we arrived, was soon very lively with shops and straw market booths. Things got even livelier as the ships began to disgorge passengers.

Freeport Harbor
Here’s Freeport Harbor after our departure. The Carnival ship left not long after us. By the time we pulled out, the port area had already closed up for the night and was completely deserted.

The whole cruise ship thing is so weird to me. Take a community with a few thousand inhabitants and park two mobile cities, each with 3,000 or more people, in it. Let the people out to shop, drink, and dine. Then, at the end of the day, gather up the mobile cities’ inhabitants and move them out, leaving the people who live there to clean up, count their revenue, and share stories from the day. Repeat daily — or almost daily — for most of the year. It’s just too weird for words. Maybe that’s why so many of the cruise ship ports are so far from where people actually live. Maybe that’s why they’re artificial environments, designed to meet tourists’ expectations rather that reflect the actual culture and lifestyle of the people who live there. And in nearly all of the shops in all of the ports were the same “Bahamas” branded, brightly colored dresses, shirts, skirts, and tote bags the tourists apparently want to buy.

I think that’s what bothered me most about the Alaska cruise I did back in 2007. There’s so much native culture in the area, but it was hidden away beyond the often tacky, touristy port areas few passengers left.

Laura Poses with Ship
Laura posed beside the ship in Freeport.

Don’t get me wrong — I know these people need to make a living. And I’m glad, in a way, that I can help them do so. But it’s unfortunate that tourists care more about buying trinkets and taking packaged tours than learning more about the natural and cultural history of the place they’re visiting.

Meanwhile, we’d signed up for a sail and snorkel trip. Laura had never been snorkeling and I’m always up for a sailboat ride. We got on a line, signed a waiver, got on a charter bus, and then drove across the narrow island to Port Lucaya. There were about 40 people in our group. The bus driver was a very friendly guy — heck, everyone who lives in the Bahamas seems to be friendly — who did his best to make the 20 minute bus ride informative and enjoyable. He mixed tour guide patter with lots of information about the Bahamas and Grand Bahama island. I actually remembered quite a bit of it, which was funny when the driver on the way back tested us and I knew most of the answers. Of course, he does it all for tips and we obliged on our way out.

Sailing
A shot back at my fellow passengers on the port side of the sailboat before the sails went up. Is it my imagination or do they look bored and a little unhappy?

After giving us a safety briefing of sorts, they handed out swim fins, snorkel masks, and snorkel vests and put us on a large trimaran. For reasons I can’t quite comprehend, no one seemed interested in sitting on the netting between the hulls. Except me. I got myself a nice seat right up front. Laura hung back with our big bag of stuff. We headed out on engine power, navigating the harbor past other boats and businesses. Once we got out into open water, the crew — there was a captain with two crew members — hoisted up the two main sails. The breeze barely caught them, but the captain killed the engines anyway and we continued at a slow pace over shallow water, past parked dive boats and parasailing boats speeding by with parachutes in trail. After about 20 minutes of that, even the captain got impatient. He started the engine and we turned to the south, paralleling the beach and the reef we’d passed over. Then we turned east again, heading inland. When we got back over the reef, he killed the engine. The crew took down the sails and dropped anchor. We had arrived.

We snorkeled for a while. The water was a bit choppy but predictably warm. There were fish everywhere, but there wasn’t much variety or even color. The reef was below six to eight feet of water and showed signs of severe damage likely caused by storms, ship anchors, and uneducated tourists. I’d learned years before while snorkeling at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park at Key Largo that coral is extremely fragile to the point that simply touching it could damage it. Yet at no time were we warned not to touch the coral — except a certain kind that could cause pain or itching. (“Mustard color with white tip will surely ruin your snorkel trip.”) As a result, this frequently visited reef off the coast of Grand Bahama is a sad shadow of what it might once have been. I can only hope that there are lots of other coral reefs where they don’t take tourists every day. Still, I did see some nice coral specimens and some interesting fish. But not enough to keep me in the water. I was the first one back on the ship.

The trip back was direct and much quicker. They didn’t bother with the sails. My fellow passengers were much more relaxed and a few even joined Laura and I on the net area, although by that time I’d moved to the forward end of the port hull where I could dangle my feet over the water and get wet.

Freeport Food Tips

If you find yourself at Freeport or Port Lucaya, try these places for good food:

  • Big Daddy’s. This is the kiosk at Port Lucaya where we bought our lunch. Unbelievably fresh conch and lobster. This place has a big following; Google it and see for yourself. Or learn more about conch and Big Daddy’s in this blog post.
  • Bootleg Chocolates. Amazing chocolate made on the premises.
  • Pier One Restaurant. We didn’t eat here but a man from Chicago on line at Big Daddy’s was raving about it. Don’t let its outside appearance spook you; we passed it as we came into port and it looks a bit funky.

Back at Port Lucaya, we had about an hour to kill until our bus ride back. We were hungry and went in search of food. A fellow snorkeler mentioned a conch kiosk near the dock and we made our way there. Inside was a big man with a big knife cutting up the ingredients for conch salad while a companion worked over a fryer. We ordered “fried conch with fritters” which turned out to be exactly that: fried conch with a side of conch fritters. The fried conch was tender and tasty; the fritters were also good but mostly bread.

After watching a fisherman remove a few freshly caught conchs from their shells, we found a spot in the shade in front of nearby Bootleg Chocolates to eat our lunch. An older woman also enjoying the shade urged us to get some chocolate before leaving. She told us a little about the owner of the shop. Since we’d used their shade, I thought a visit was in order. Besides, I love chocolate. We walked away with a 12-piece assortment and chocolate covered espresso beans, all of which was consumed before the end of our cruise.

We caught the bus back to Freeport and the ship. We walked around the shops for a while. We each bought small, brightly colored purses and I bought a dress. Then it was back to the ship to relax. Laura napped and I watched the latest Mission Impossible movie in the theater. (Wouldn’t you know it? They made the departure announcement just as the ticking time bomb scene came on screen so I never did hear what Ethan Hunt told the bad guy to get him to release the hostage.) The movie finished right as we left port and I hurried back upstairs to our cabin to watch Freeport drift away.

Dinner that night was at Le Bistro on Deck 5, another of the specialty restaurants. We enjoyed nicely prepared French food and great service. And when I couldn’t decide between two different desserts, they brought both of them.

Storm Cloud
This storm cloud reminded me uncomfortably of the smoke clouds I saw in Washington State this past summer.

We walked around the decks while the evening party was just getting started. I’d soon realize that every night they managed to squeeze more people into those hot tubs. After watching a storm to the east — possibly the remnants of Tropical Storm Kate — fade away into the night, we stopped at the Outrigger Lounge at the forward part of Deck 11. This was, by far, the most pleasant place on the ship for a drink. It was also almost always absolutely empty. We sat at the bar, where I ordered a Courvoisier VSOP, and we kept the bartender company. Later, on the beach at Grand Stirrup Cay, she’d remember us — a feat I consider remarkable.

Day 3: Nassau, New Providence

I woke early again the next morning and spent some time watching the stars, listening to the rush of the water from the balcony, and peering at the lights of other ships through my binoculars. Although our balcony light was out, our neighbors on either side had left theirs on and the light drifted into our space. A quick peek around the dividers showed that both cabins had their drapes closed tightly. Chances were that neither cabin’s occupants even knew their lights were on. Later that day, when I saw our cabin attendant, I asked him to shut the lights off when he cleaned the rooms. He had partial success; the occupants of the room to our left refused cabin service for the entire length of the trip. (Can you say dirty towels?)

I got dressed and went directly to coffee. Laura eventually joined me and we watched the ship pull into Nassau’s port where a Royal Caribbean ship was already waiting and two Carnival ships would join us.

By this time, we’d learned that early risers could get a quick, hot breakfast without any crowds at the Deck 11 buffet. I found the omelet station and had a freshly made omelet every morning, along with a pastry or bagel or muesli or fruit. By 7:30 AM, the place was a madhouse. But by then, we were already moving on to other things.

This wasn’t my first time to Nassau. I’d been there in 2011 with my wasband on a business trip. Back in those days, he sold AstroTurf — the real trademarked stuff — for a company based in the Deer Valley area of Phoenix. I’m pretty sure that the trip was a sales award. I do know that a coworker and his wife, Chris and Ruth, were also along, although I can’t remember if his idiot boss was. I also know that we stayed at the Atlantis resort and that I caught a nasty cold that pretty much ruined the trip for me. Although the cruise line’s excursions included several to Atlantis, I wasn’t that interested in going back, despite the fact that they have a real kick-ass water park with a mile-long lazy river.

Instead, we’d decided on a Segway tour. I’d been on a Segway twice and Laura had been on one once. I really like them — probably a lot more than I should. They are unbelievably unpractical to own but undeniably fun to ride.

Nassau Port Panorama
When we left the ship, I stopped at the bow of the Norwegian Sky to make this panoramic image. The fourth cruise ship, which docked to our right, had not yet arrived.

After waiting here, there, and everywhere, our guide loaded eight of us onto a taxi van and drove us to the Segway base at the local cricket club grounds. There, we were outfitted with helmets, elbow pads, and knee pads, signed the inevitable waiver, and got a lesson. Because Laura and I and two other people had already ridden Segways, our lessons were short and we were let loose in a practice area to do laps. The others got more intensive lessons before practice. Then we set off behind our guide in single file while a second guide followed and rode up and down our line to make sure we were all comfortable with what we were doing and keeping up. He also had a Stop sign on a post and occasionally used it to stop traffic on main roads so we could cross in a group.

Laura and Maria on Segways
Do we look goofy enough in our protective gear on these off-road Segways?

I should mention here that Segways have two operating settings: beginner (or turtle) mode and standard mode. As you might have guessed, turtle mode is purposely slow, no more than 8 mph. Standard mode is faster, up to 12.5 mph. This particular tour company kept all of us in turtle mode for the duration of the tour. This was likely due to the rough terrain, which included grass, gravel, sand, cracked pavement, bumps, and tree roots. They used all-terrain model Segways, which featured larger, more heavily treaded tires.

We rode to Junkanoo Beach, where we stopped briefly and our guide gave us some background information about the area and took photos of us with our cameras. Then back on for a short while before another stop and more information. Then back toward our starting point with a third stop at the Fish Fry where we got a history lesson about the strip of restaurants in the area and lecture about the local food, beer, and drink. (I vaguely remember taking a limo ride to the Fish Fry from Atlantis on my previous visit to Nassau, although I can’t remember details. Cold medicine really hits me hard sometimes.) Although it was still early in the day, we all voted to stop into one of the restaurants, which were just opening, for a drink. Laura and I opted for a Bahama Mama. I figured I had to try one before the end of the trip and it must be a breakfast drink because it had juice in it. It was refreshing and I admit that it made the remainder of the morning a tiny bit more fun. Afterwards, it was back to the cricket club grounds for a race between riders on a slalom course set in the patchy grass. I was matched with one of the experienced German riders and I’m proud to say that I beat him, without knocking over a single cone, despite the rum I’d just consumed. (U-S-A! U-S-A!)

We parked the Segways and stripped off our protective gear. I spoke for a while with the woman who owned the business and got some interesting information from her. More on that another time.

We got a ride back into town where, after a short peek into a few shops, went back to the cabin for some rest. That’s when the fourth cruise ship showed up. It was quite a monster, with a huge, three-tubed water flume on top for the kids. It turned around in the harbor and backed into its parking spot right next to us. Seriously: watching ships park and depart was a huge source of entertainment for us.

We went back into town a while later. Although we thought we might try walking to the Fish Fry for a late lunch/early dinner, we never got quite that far. Instead, we walked around the straw market and shops. On the way back to the ship, I saw a guy selling conch shells and bought one as a souvenir, making him describe in detail how the conch is removed before I left with my purchase. He did better: he demonstrated with a hammer he had with him.

Once again, we watched the ship prepping for departure. Because the dock was under our balcony, we could watch the passengers return in groups. The Sky’s crew had laid out red carpets on the way to the gangway. As usual, there were tents set up with beverages and a crew member handing out cool, wet cloths for arriving passengers. That afternoon, two rows of crew members also danced to some loud local music blaring from a sound system. A woman wearing stilts danced along with them, and more than a few of the passengers danced their way on board. It was very festive and I can’t help thinking it was part of a show put on to show the Carnival passengers, whose ship was docked across from ours, how much more fun Norwegian was. They had no amenities other than an shade tent with chairs for returning passengers. It was kind of funny to see two of their passengers dancing down our red carpet with our crew members before leaving the carpet to join the others on their way to the Carnival ship.

The Carnival Fantasy, which had come in just after us that morning, was the first to leave. It backed out into the open harbor area, made a 180° turn, and slipped out of the port. We did pretty much the same maneuver. It looked as if the larger Carnival ship went next, followed by the ship that had been first to arrive. But back on shore, Nassau was still partying. With all the hotels in the area, the city never really closes down. The last bit of entertainment came when the pilot boat rode alongside our ship and the pilot climbed out of a hatch and down a rope ladder to leave us.

Nassau at Night
Nassau was still partying as we sailed away after dark.

We took it easy for the rest of the evening. We had sushi for dinner at the Plantation Club on Deck 12. Although this was a specialty restaurant, we decided to save our last dinner, which we’d eat in the Italian restaurant, for the last night. Dinner wasn’t costly at all, which is kind of a good thing because the sushi wasn’t that good.

At sometime that day, I recalled that I’d bought iSailGPS, a nautical charting app for my iPad for use when I took my boat out in charted waters. I’d never installed it on my new iPad. So I splurged for an Internet connection on the ship, downloaded the app, and downloaded the NOAA chart for the Straits of Florida, which included the Bahamas. Before going to bed, I’d not only plotted our location on the chart via GPS but had found our next destination and calculated the distance. I really am a geek.

Day 4: Great Stirrup Cay, a Private Island

I didn’t sleep well on Wednesday night and was up multiple times during the night. Each time I woke up, I’d step out to the balcony with my binoculars to see what was out there. Once, I didn’t even have to step outside: I could see the Norwegian Escape cruise by in the opposite direction less than a mile away, right from my bed. But the thing that pleased me most: both of my neighbors’ balcony lights were turned off, giving me a nice, dark platform for star gazing.

I also consulted iSailGPS a few times so I knew how fast we were going — very slow — and where we were.

By 4 AM, I was up for the day so I dressed and went for coffee. I don’t know if I was imagining things, but it seemed as if there were more passengers awake earlier that day than usual.

Tender
A pair of double-decker tenders transported us between ship and shore.

Great Stirrup Cay is a private island owned by Norwegian Cruise Lines. It’s the northernmost island of the Berry Islands south of Grand Bahama Island. It sits in an area of very shallow water, so there’s no port. Instead, Norwegian ships drop anchor on the north side of the island and double-decker tender boats come out from the island to transport passengers. There isn’t even a dock on the island. Instead, they just lower a ramp and we walk off the boat, kind of like cattle arriving at a slaughter house. But with a more pleasant outcome, of course.

The island isn’t big — you can easily walk from one side to the other, as we did twice that day. The north side, facing the ship, has a series of beautiful sandy beaches all set up with lounge chairs facing the water. Most of the chairs in the back rows are paired up with clamshell shades that beach-goers can rent for $30/day. We rented one right away; neither of us wanted a full day of full sun. Farther up the island are cabanas that go for considerably more. There are restrooms, bars (of course), and buildings where you can rent snorkel gear, rafts, and floats; sign up for a WaveRunner, kayak, or snorkel tour; and get a buffet lunch between 11 AM and 2 PM. There’s a fee for everything except the sunny lounge chairs and the buffet and I suspect that Norwegian owns everything, so the private island must be quite revenue rich for them. But it was also beautiful, clean (at least when we arrived), and stress-free. Although there was a little straw market of shops with the same tourist merchandise we’d seen everywhere else, the people who worked there didn’t shout out to get you in the door or try to haggle with you to sell.

We went for a WaveRunner tour. Laura had never ridden one. I’d owned a pair of them for a few years starting back in around 2005 and had a lot of hours on them, mostly in Lake Pleasant north of Phoenix. (I love them and if I didn’t currently have a little jet boat, I’d have one again.) The tour folks offered single and double riding. In an effort to save a few bucks, we went double and Laura did the driving. There was about 20 people in our group and about half were riding double. They made us watch a video, then handed out life jackets and loaded us on board three-seated Yamaha WaveRunners very similar to one of the ones I’d owned.

Laura got off to a shaky start, but soon got the hang of it. We raced around water so clear and shallow that we could see the bottom most of the time. The guides were very good at keeping an eye on us without holding us back. We all spread out quite a bit, then gathered together and drifted in an area with very shallow water. The guides jumped in and emerged from the bottom with huge starfish that they passed around so we could feel their hard shell-like bodies. One by one, the guides tossed them back in and we watched them drift gently to the sea floor. When we left, I looked into the water and saw dozens of them as we raced by.

Even though I didn’t do any of the driving, I think that was the most fun excursion of the trip. Not quite sure what that says. I know it made me really wish I could take my boat out again soon. It also got me thinking that maybe I should drag my boat down to Arizona this winter.

We grabbed lunch at the buffet and went back to our shady clamshell on the beach to enjoy it. Then we just relaxed for a while. Laura went back in the water to cool down while I opted for a fresh water shower on the beach. I visited the Bacardi bar for a so-so mojito — not quite sweet enough, even for me — and realized what a perfect viewpoint it was for a photo. Later, I came back with my camera and took the photo I consider my best of the trip.

Great Stirrup Cay
No other image can say “Bahamas Cruise” better than this one.

Caribbean Sunset
Just another Caribbean sunset.

We were back on board the ship by 3 PM, although the last tender wasn’t due to leave until 4:30. I napped for about an hour, woken by the glare of the sun through the open balcony door as the ship turned around to head northwest. We watched the sun set from our balcony.

I consulted iSailGPS for our course back. Although Miami was due west, the water on the direct path back was very shallow so we’d have to go north before going west. Still, I could tell the Captain was serious about getting home. He had the speed cranked up to 14 knots — the fastest we’d gone all week — and we could really hear the wake as he plowed through the water.

Dinner that night was in the last of the specialty restaurants, Il Adiago on Deck 11. Although the food was very good, the service was a problem. It all seemed centered around a member of the bus staff who apparently thought he was a waiter. He took orders for wine when it was obviously the waiter’s job. (He screwed it up, too, by ordering wine for both of us when only one of us wanted wine.) He took away plates for one of us before both of us were finished eating. And he committed the ultimate dining service sin: he asked us if we wanted anything else before I’d finished eating. I let him have it, letting my tone of voice say more than my words: “I’d like to finish my meal before I think about dessert.” He apologized and left, returning only when my plate was empty and letting the waiter take our dessert order. If language wasn’t such a barrier on board, I probably would have spoken to the woman who had seated us about it. But English was a second language for most crew members and it really didn’t seem worth the effort to offer my negative feedback. I just hope they get the guy some decent training before he ruins someone else’s meal.

While we wanted to enjoy some of the ship’s entertainment that night, we were completely wiped out from our day in the sun. So we spent the rest of the evening relaxing before turning in early.

Day 5: Port of Miami

It should come as no surprise that I was up early the next morning. It was dark and a bit foggy. Floodlights illuminated the lower half of the ship — I think it was the Captain’s effort to keep us very visible as we entered the deeper water shipping lanes between Miami and the Bahamas. I checked out the warning buoys we passed as we rounded the northernmost part of the Great Bahama Bank. Then, as we turned to the southwest, I started taking note of the ships that seemed to be on the same course for Miami.

When we got closer, I got dressed, got some coffee, and went up to the wide open forward area of Deck 11. I monitored our progress on my iPad and soon saw the lights of Miami out in front of us.

Miami Approach
On approach to Miami. The lights really glow at night.

iSail
We were the blue asterisk with the line indicating direction as we approached the Port of Miami’s ship channel. I downloaded more detailed charts of the harbor as we got closer. Have I mentioned that I’m a geek?

It wasn’t long before I got a good cell signal. By the time we were in the channel, passing quickly between red- and green-lighted buoys, I was broadcasting on Periscope, sharing our arrival with anyone interested in tuning in. The broadcast went very long because I managed to keep quite an audience. I answered lots of questions and was very pleased when several viewers told me that they enjoyed my broadcasts. It got lighter and lighter as we came in past two parked cruise ships, including the AIDAvita, which looked like the perfectly sized cruise ship for the kind of cruising I’d like to do. (Unfortunately, I don’t speak German and their website isn’t in English. Likely a smart strategy for AIDA.) We got to the end of the cruise ship terminal area, made a 180° turn, and parked right where we’d left from on Monday evening.

It was about 6:30 AM.

There was no rush to get off the ship — we had until 9:30. Laura and I went down for breakfast. We tried one of the sit-down restaurants, but it was still closed so we wound up back at the buffet. As we walked back down to the room later to pack, we saw many passengers already on line with their luggage, waiting to get of the ship.

We packed leisurely and went through the room several times to make sure we hadn’t left anything behind. I’d managed to lose an earring that morning but it never showed up in lost-and-found before we finally departed.

Miami
Back to reality: one last look at Miami Beach from the ship.

Exiting the ship went very quickly. Yes, there was a line to get off the ship and another at Customs, but the lines moved quickly. A woman at the start of the Customs line steered us to a line where a young agent was examining passports and customs forms. He wasn’t checking bags and he didn’t ask to check ours. He took our forms and compared our passport photos to our faces. He seemed to do a double-take when he looked at mine. I laughed. “I have longer hair now and I’m much happier,” I told him. “You look it,” he replied as he handed back the passports and sent us on our way.

We found the car, loaded up our bags, and paid for parking on the way out. After stopping for gas in Miami, we got on Route 95 and headed north, back to reality.

Closing Thoughts

This was the “tiebreaker cruise” — the one where I’d decide whether I ever wanted to cruise again. I went into it with very low expectations and a pretty small investment. The result: no disappointment, but no big thrill, either.

You have to look at a cruise for what it is. When you get on board, you’re checking into a resort where all the basics — food, a room, and some amenities like a pool — are included. Like any resort, it’s full of people who bring their own personalities, preferences, and expectations with them. Those might not match yours. The resort travels from place to place and you get the benefit of visiting all the places it stops at — without having to pack and unpack for each move.

While it is possible to do the cruise we did for as little as about $250/person including taxes and fees, that doesn’t buy you much. In fact, you won’t even have a window in your room. But where else can you get a 4-night stay at a resort with all meals and amenities for that kind of money? When I bought the cruise tickets, it was with the knowledge that a four-night trip to Key West would have cost at least what I spent if we stayed in a decent hotel and had good meals — but we wouldn’t get the daily change of scenery.

If you want to fully experience a cruise, however, you have to enjoy some for-fee services on the ship and port excursions. And those aren’t cheap. We spent nearly as much on our three excursions as we did for our balcony cabin. So while a cruise looks like it could be cheap, it could also be very costly.

Of course, excursions don’t need to be booked through the cruise ship. If you do your homework in advance, you can find local tour operators who might offer better, cheaper options. But I didn’t do any homework. I’m a lazy traveler sometimes and that’s who cruises are for.

So would I do this again? Yes, but only after I did some more research. I’d try harder to find a cruise that was a match for me. More sophisticated travelers. Smaller, newer cruise ship. More interesting destinations. More personalized service. No kids — is that possible? And yes, I know this would cost more. But for the right cruise — a cruise that will WOW me — I’m willing to pay more.

Just not for a few years. I honestly don’t think cruising is something I want to do very often, no matter how good it sounds.