Castaways

 Grand Cayman

As we were walking from the ship to a bus on a pre-booked “shore excursion”, I was debating cutting my loses, breaking away from the pack and hailing a cab.  We spent the majority of the morning getting wrist bands and waiting for others.  The tour leader kept repeating, “Two-by-two, line up two by two.”  It was worse than public elementary school.  Sam was exuberant, spinning around, pretending he was a sea bird, enjoying the sun and breeze and not hurting anyone except the ticket collector who was eyeing him as if he were an escapee.

A Disney cruise is a slice of mainstream America.  All of what’s good and bad rolled up into one big fat sunburned ball of choices.  We had a really fun week and got lucky with beautiful warm weather.  There was a lot to do on and off the ship and the boys met some nice kids.  I mostly policed sugar intake and observed the other parents.  I saw three basic types:  super-parents, intervention-would-be-nice and M.I.A.

Super-parents are constantly applying sunscreen to themselves, each other and their children, are always together and often wear matching t-shirts.  You will never find them in the nightclub dancing inappropriately or snoozing away with empty margarita glasses nearby.  I think they live on caffeine or some other drug I would like to learn about.

The second group comes from generations of stuffing faces and feelings.  Picture a beefy guy, lying on his lounge chair, yelling at his chubby little boy who was floating around in a pee-filled pool.  Imagine a thick “fuggedaboutit” accent and some barking about hurrying up to go to the buffet.  Similar looking and sounding wife next to him, sucking on a soda.

The last group checks their children into the “kids’ club” and takes off for hours on end.  I can see using the babysitting for an “afternoon delight” or dinner alone.  Some kids even beg to go, with seductive names like "Oceaneer Lab" (kids under 10) and "Edge" (tweens).  I get (and like) having some freedom and time alone, but isn't the operative word in "family vacation" "family", not "vacation"?  My son pointed out one couple to me that left their kids on the ship and went to the beach for the day without them.  Am I missing something?

I decided to teach my boys to swim upstream.  During the at-sea days, we got up early and enjoyed the ship before others were awake.  Then, as the sun rose high in the sky, we went inside and had leisurely seafood lunches and watched movies (first run Disney in two theatres on the ship, "Secretariat" was my favorite) when everyone else was lining up for pizza outside and deck chairs by the pool.

After that tour with the militant guide, we took our own port adventures.  On our best day, I almost gave up too soon.  We were on Grand Cayman walking down the beach looking for a place to park it.  Our bag was heavy with towels and water and even though the boys were helping, I was doing most of the toting.  I massaged my sore shoulder as we passed people head-to-toe on shore and looking like snorkel stew out in the water.  I couldn’t understand why they would stay all clumped together when anyone who picked up their head and looked could see lots of open space.

We made it to a stretch of sand and ocean where we had the place to ourselves.  I can’t explain the crowd.  Maybe they wanted to be near the restaurants, or bars, or other families.  I don't know, but we found paradise.