13. - I slapped her and it felt good

This morning the ship hit the harbour at 6.34am. Passengers and crew are tossed around and some even thrown from their beds. The ships company are signalled by the ships alarms to take our emergency positions. The alarms are only sounded in the crew areas’, this is so the situation can be investigated and so the passengers will not run around screaming that the ship is sinking.

Our half sleeping bodies are dressed as instructed, in warm clothing and bright orange lifejackets. My warm clothing could have been warmer but when the alarms went off so unexpectedly all I managed to pull over my nightshirt was a Galaxy cruises polo shirt. We spilled out and onto the M1 and head for our positions. I stood in position with my chin resting on my lifejacket, my blue card tucked into the front strap. Even though we were quite used to having emergency drills every week this was my first actual emergency.

Neil’s emergency position is by the passenger elevators just round the corner from the pantry where I am positioned together with Andre one of the pursers and Mr Rosenbaum the accommodation manager, every one calls him Mr Rose and he is as Gay as a team of Morris dancers.
“Gooood morning,” said Andre, looking down at my legs. They didn’t look as white as they would usually given the fact that I haven’t shaved them for a while, adding a bit of colour to them. “Warm enough?” he asks, far too brightly for this time of night or day or whatever it was, he was too cheery.
“So, what’s happening, Mr Rosenbaum?” I am unusually calm considering the circumstances. This may have something to do with seeing that we have already docked and if needs must all I will have to do is jump off the ship and onto the harbour. I won’t worry about the distance between the two until I have to do it.

The phone rings and Mr Rossenbaum answers and automatically picks up his glasses that are hanging by a gold chain around his neck and places them on the end of his nose. He stands with his pen poised and then scribbles something down before replacing the receiver and answering my question.
“No idea Dear,” he replied. Everyone is “Dear” to Mr Rossenbaum. He looks over his glasses and starts chortling and speaking all at once. His ability to do both at the same time always leaves me wondering how to take him. Is he being sarcastic or does he really find things so funny he cannot wait to tell you?
“Hahawlonghahadoyouhathinkhathathayouwillhasurviveinhathewaterhaginnyhadear?”
This translates as “How long do you think you will survive in the water Ginny dear?”
The phone rings and Mr Rossenbaum resumes his responsibilities.

Each part of the ship has to report to one central point, which then gets communicated to the bridge confirming that all crew are in position. If someone fails to phone in it is my job is to run to that deck and make sure that everyone is in place. At least that’s what I think is going on. One section fails to phone in and it’s my job to go and find out why. I returned from running seven decks up to remind the people there to call the central number and Mr Rosenbaum.

There were two guys and a bedroom stewardess in the pantry when I got there. Anything could have happened in the time it took for me to catch my morning breath. The guy responsible for reporting in is new to the ship and doesn’t know what he is supposed to do, and to top it all he doesn’t speak English. I show him the instructions on the wall and point to the number. I asked everyone, in loud broken English, if there was anyone missing and they told me no. I dialled the number on his behalf and give him a quick lesson in English.
“Deck eleven forward, all present,” I repeat, over and over again.
“Dick eleven fawad, aw present,” he repeated, down the phone.
Mr Rosenbaum is in charge of taking these phone calls and marking off who has or hasn’t called in, then he relays that information to the bridge.
“Was that a new boy on dick, erm I mean deck eleven, Ginny?, sang Mr Rossenbaum, when I returned.
“Yes he is, but I think he’s got a hang of it,” I say.
Mr Rossenbaum has gone into one of his dream-like states.
Andre and I look at each other and instantly know what is going on in his head.
“Sounds like a nice boy”, he says, chewing on the arm of his glasses still staring into space. Perhaps I‘ll go up and give him some pointers.”
“Oi Rose, leave it out,” laughs Andre. He’s been on the end of that dreamy eyed stare before and wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.

I’m exhausted. I have had very little time off from working and the excess alcohol I consume every night in the crew bar hasn’t helped. I wander over to the pantry door and look outside. Neil still hasn’t turned up. If Mr Rose notices he’s not here he will get a written warning. I wonder where he is. He has avoided me over the last few days and it seems like weeks since I saw him.
“Is Lover boy out there dear?”
Every week at the crew drills for this very situation, Mr Rose asks the same question.
I am just about to lie and tell him that he is when I see his yellow cap. His long legs take two steps at time until he arrives to the top. He looks up and sees me standing in the door. He smiles and puts his sunglasses over his bloodshot eyes before standing in position with his hands clasped behind him. My stomach tingles at the sight of him and although I want nothing more than to go over and ask him what he’s been up to, I can’t.
“Yes Mr Rose, I reply, he’s here.”
Officers and sailors are hurrying past and up the stairs with Hand radios are clicking between voices and static as everyone tries to figure out what is going on. I hope this is nothing serious I think to myself casually.

I stand waiting for my next set of instructions and think about Neil. We have been seeing each other since our night of passion in my cabin. I had barely started work the next morning when the first of several people came up and asked me outright if I was seeing Neil. Who needs the telephone when you have a communication system like this? Although I would have preferred to keep it private until I knew if is was a one nigh stand or something more, it is impossible to keep anything private on the ship.

Every moment from that night on is dedicated to thinking about Neil. I would wait for him each night down in the crew bar. Only half listening to the conversation around the table as I kept an eye on the door. My heart would miss an expectant beat when someone would appear at the entrance only to be sick with disappointment when it wasn’t him. When he did arrive (more recently he hasn’t), he would first get a drink and chat to whoever was at the bar and then, when he had blended in suitably enough, he would come over and sit down next to me. I would loosen my grip on the soft leather of the chair and fall into the conversation at the table as he approached. I didn’t want to appear like I’d been waiting for this moment all day. I look up, surprised that he is there and pretend I hadn’t noticed him come in. He takes a seat and joins in the conversation of the day. Sometimes we all get a bunch of drinks in and sit around until the early hours or until the night manager comes to chuck us out and other times we will go back to my cabin.

So lately, Neil has not been turning up. Sometimes it’s his turn to work all through the night in the dark room developing passenger’s films and other nights he would be in passenger bars with the hairies or someone. You could always rely on someone to deliver any bad news. Last night as I was clearing up the bar and taking a tray of dirty glasses into the pantry when I walk in on Jo and Jackie sitting on the recycle bins drinking cocktails. They stopped talking when I walked in. Jo had noticed how much happier I had become since seeing Neil. She made the odd sarcastic comment about Neil and even about me to him. Neil didn’t care. He was quick witted and would always have something to say back to her that would shut her up. When the bar was empty he would sometimes come up and deliberately put his arm around me to annoy Jo. I soon learnt that Jo was at her worst when she was drunk. Her mood swings happened frequently, but at least consistent with her drinking, thus giving me some warning. It felt great having him around and knowing that each night you would have someone to squeeze on your bunk with, but I’m worried about him. He seems different and more reserved lately.
As Jo sat on the bin, I thought it was the perfect place for her to be.
Smiling smugley she said,“So Ginny, looks like your little bit of fluff has found himself another little play toy or maybe it’s the extra discount in the shops he interested in.” She rocks back on the bin laughing at her joke, Jackie joining in on the joke with a cackle.
“He’s always liked the shop girls you know, isn’t that right Jackie?”
“A ha, said Jackie, nodding her head. He certainly does:”
They sat and waited for my reaction. I told her it was a free country and left the pantry feeling like I’d been kicked in the stomach.

I wanted to run up the back stairs and hide in the pantry of the casino bar and spy on him from the door. Fifteen minutes later when the bar closed I walked casually along the corridor, aware of Jackie and Jo behind me, I side step quickly and disappeared behind the scenery of the ship. I pressed frantically at the buttons on the elevator; the red light was stuck on another deck so I started to run two steps at a time until I arrived, out of breath, on the final stair to deck number twelve. When I arrived at the last stairwell, I saw Allison sitting all by herself on the final step. I stopped at the bottom, holding my sides and bending over to catch my breath.
“God I need to start exercising,” I say, making the last few steps and flopping down beside her. I put my tray on my lap and reach in my little pencil case for my cigarettes.
Allison laughed and patted my back until I started breathing normally again and against every sensible thought in my head, I lit the cigarette.
I exhaled loudly and asked Allison if Neil was in the bar.
“Yeh, he’s been in for a while”, she said. By now Allison is used to this line of questioning.
My stomach started flipping just at the thought of him being in the next room. Even though they have passenger’s privileges this does not extend to passenger lifts so he could back here at any time and see me.
“Who’s he with tonight, anyone I know?” My heart was hammering in my chest as I asked her.
“Just a couple of the shopies, why, haven’t you seen him yet?” she asked
“Not since Ketchikan, that’s three nights ago,” I say, repeating the cruise itinerary backwards.
Just then Jackie and Jo’s voices floated up the stairwell. I stubbed out my cigarette and told Allison I would see her later and snuck the only way out, into the casino area, where the slot machines dinged loudly along with the hive of passenger activity. I held my tray as if I was working and manage to escape without a drinks order and onto the top deck where I made my way back down to the solitude of my cabin.

The announcement brings be back to reality and the emergency situation. Chin rested firmly on my lifejacket, I wonder why Neil has become so important to me. We have been here for over an hour when a voice tells us that the “sheep” is not in danger and we can now stand down from our positions.

I say bye to Mr Rose and head towards my cabin. Neil is waiting in the corridor for me. Part of me wants to just throw my arms around him, instead, I just walk past without stopping. I am still pissed off with him. I want everything to be all right, the way it was. What other distraction do I have from Jo and the ships politics, who licks who’s arse, who’s shagging who, who hates who and the who’s who. Neil followed me down the carpeted stairway, the one I took on my first day onboard. Once in the crew only area he called out my name and pulled on my arm stopping me in my tracks.
“You ok,” Ginny, he said, looking down at me.” God he’s lovely.
“Yeh fine”, I reply, stubbornly.” I don’t know why I don’t just tell him I’m pissed off instead I just act out the role, not looking him in the eye and keeping my answers short. I tell him I have to go and leave him standing in the corridor looking blankly after me. What did he expect? He knows that I’m not allowed in passenger areas and that is where he is choosing to spend his time recently and on top of it, with other girls. It’s bad enough that the only place I can go is to the crew bar without him rubbing my face in it. Does he think I’m stupid, I asked my reflection in the mirror back in the cabin? Something I seem to be doing more and more of recently, talking to myself.

There is a knock at the door and it’s Ian telling me that we have to go and serve coffee in the atrium for the disembarking passengers. I wasn’t supposed to be working until eleven this morning. I had gotten only a few hours of restless sleep last night as I waited for Neil to come to my cabin, which he never did. I cursed and swore to myself as I put on my uniform. At least I have a couple of hours off this afternoon to see a bit of Vancouver.

The passengers have to wait to be called in their individual groups to get off the ship. Each person was given a coloured tag that they attached to their luggage. The luggage has already been taken off the ship is now lined up on the dockside for the passengers to reclaim. All the passengers have to do is remember what colour tag they had? This seems quite straightforward, but it never is. Someone will eventually start to announce the colours and like clockwork the passengers should get off the ship quite easily and without any stampeding. Not this morning though. People were somehow convinced that the Ship must be letting in water and everyone was sitting anxiously in the Atrium waiting for their colour to be called. Announcements had been made all morning to reassure the passengers that there was nothing to worry about but it made no difference. Some of the passengers became extra rowdy as they waited and a few were extra rude this morning. It seemed like every one of the twelve hundred passengers onboard had assembled in the atrium as I climbed over people to get to the patisserie, each one of them wanting to be the first off the ship, not before they had had they’re last free coffee and croissant of course.

Before anyone could get off the ship the morgue had to be emptied and the bodies taken ashore along with their families. We had four deaths this cruise which was higher than other weeks. There is one broken hip, one broken nose and eleven reports of sexual harassment. How does that work one may ask? Well apparently as passengers in the twenty-four hour restaurant were having their first breakfast of the day, some of them fell over. Several of the crew rushed to help the passengers to their feet, therefore manhandling them. So it’s either sexual harassment or negligence, either way there is money to be made.

With all these people around it was kind of difficult not to notice the four trolleys that were weaved clumsily in and out of the clutter of passengers who were taking up every inch of available space in the atrium. The passengers were moved to silence for the first time when they realised what was happening. After the trolleys had disappeared down the gangway a man in a wheelchair who was attached to what looked like an oxygen tank was also given priority in getting off the ship, followed by the patients with broken bones. Event the broken nose patients insisted on a stretcher. A large man in a brown suede jacket and three-gallon Stetson slammed his hand down on the purser’s desk. The slap sent an echo around the atrium and up three decks before coming back down again.
“I demand to know, why the dead people get to get off first,” he roared, in his deputy dog drawl.
This comment was met with an incredulous gasp from the JAP and an out roar from some of the passengers while others actually shouted “Yeh, why is that”.
Two long hours later the Atrium has been cleared and the passengers are safely off the ship. What a long morning. Debra is behind the purser’s desk and is counting money.
“Bloody nightmare last cruise, she said, already dismissing the passengers who have just disembarked. I don’t think I can take one more ‘Where’s the gangplank questions?,’ she said, throwing a bunch of new ten dollar bills in the safe.
“You know that one of the sexual harassment complaints was about Giorgio, can you believe it ?” “I am furious. How can these people screw around with other people’s lives like that? He was only helping the silly old cow to her feet. From what I could understand from Giorgio’s limited English is that if she was about a hundred years old and probably forgotten how the sex thing actually went.
“Anyway, I’m sure it’ll come to nothing, she says, brightening up. I don’t suppose you and Neil will want to come up to my parent’s house this afternoon do ya? I’m taking Giorgio up to meet them.
How lucky she is to be home and how strange at the same time be able to get off the ship and ‘go home’ for a few hours back to normality.
I would love to go, but cant. I also tell her that I don’t know what Neil’s plans are.
“Like that is it?” said Debra, reaching over and squeezing my hand.
I tell her that I will fill her in tonight in the crew bar and not to worry, her parents will love Giorgio. Now that I have been on the ship for a while I know not to stand and talk to anyone at the purser’s desk, look in the shops, watch the passengers folding napkins, watch the glaciers, enjoy the sunset, look at Jo or to do anything that would be relatively normal if you were on land. I can feel myself getting all worked up and almost start to cry as I head off to my cabin. I know this is all down to Neil. The whole ship will be enjoying watching us fall apart like the other ninety nine percent of relationships on this ship. Relationship, I say to myself. We haven’t even been ashore together and no relationship is official till you’ve been seen ashore together.

In the cabin I freshen up before going to the lounge. I can’t see why I have to go in so early; the passengers won’t be onboard until one o’clock at the earliest. I just sit down to have a pee when I hear my cabin door open and bang loudly against the sink. I can hear voices. Startled, I put my hands on the walls either side of me and concentrate on stopping my bladder so I can hear who it is.
“Oh god, can’t believe I’m back in this shit hole again,” came the voice. There is more thudding and banging around.
“Look at these scarves hanging on the bunks, she’s made the place into a fuching brothel.” It was Vanessa. What is she doing here; she took most of her stuff to her man’s cabin and hasn’t been back in this cabin for weeks. Who is she talking to? I sat on the toilet quietly. Someone’s tights are hanging above me and dripping on my head.
“Nightmare to live with, honestly, and demands all the attention too, you must have noticed.” If her companion responded, they did it physically.
“She walks around like she owns the place with that bloody hair of hers. Well she better get used to the bottom bunk again that’s for sure,” she goes on. Her voice is fading between words as she moves about, banging. Drawers are opened and then closed loudly as I strain to hear the rest of the one-sided conversation. I can hear the rustling of a plastic bag. She is oblivious to my whereabouts.
“She caught her last boyfriend wanking in the bath, that’s why she’s here,” said Vanessa, nastily. Why was she talking about me like this and who is she talking to? It has taken me weeks to come to terms with the fact that Vanessa is now part of the “Fendi slappers”, who stand at the bar taking the piss out of other people as she practically ignores me.

Every night in the same spot, even if the bar is jammed packed they still manage to squeeze into their corner, each of them are identified by the little Fendi clutch bags that were purchased from the ships boutique. The ‘Fendi slappers’ we have named them. Vanessa would speak if no one else was around but most of the time she was with the slappers, or other people like her who were drawn together by one sole reason, they were all going out with married men. A loud bang from Nicky’s cabin snaps my attention back to Vanessa. Nicky is banging on the toilet door shouting.
“Ginny, sorry it’s me Nicky, I need to get my tights.”
The only thing I can hear is my heart beating. What seems like an eternity of silence passes as I unlock the door so that Nicky can get her tights. I don’t think about the fact that I am sitting on the toilet. Nicky stands and looks down at me.
“Sorry Ginny, oh shit she says, they’re all wet. You haven’t got a pair I could borrow have you Ginny?
I turn without a word and unlock the door to my own cabin and swing it open. Vanessa is standing in the cabin surrounded by bags. The cabin looks like it’s been burgled there is so much mess littering the floor.
The Chief Engineers cabin steward is standing just inside the door holding Vanessa’s vanity case. He looks dumbfounded and moves back quickly when he sees me on the toilet. Vanessa stands up straight and smiles, but I can see she is extremely uncomfortable.
“Hi,” she says. Nicky is standing over me clipping her tights back up again on the washing line. We both stare at Vanessa from the toilet. For two very different reasons I can safely say that we are the last two people on this ship who are happy to see her.

What a ridiculous sight we must look. I ask Nicky if I can have a minute to get off the toilet. She looks down and sees all the bags on the floor around Vanessa.
“Oh dear, get thrown out did you?” crooned Nicky, shutting the door behind her smiling from ear to ear. Even though Nicky is now seeing one of the assistant cruise directors she is still very angry with Vanessa over her split with the chief engineer. I fix myself and flush the toilet. I didn’t know how I was going to react to what Vanessa had said until I got out of the toilet and without any warning to her or myself, I slapped her full on across the face.

I reminded Vanessa that the bottom bunk was now mine as she lay there crying on it. I was shaken by what I had done but more so by what she had said about me. If I’m honest I am more upset that this time next week Neil is leaving the ship, his contract is over and the chances are that he is seeing someone else. I am tired and lonely. Vanessa tried to say that the cabin steward didn’t understand what she was talking about anyway and that she was just letting off steam because the Chief Engineer’s wife has come onboard for two months and that she only found this out when she woke up this morning to the cabin steward throwing her things in bags. She was the last thing I needed right now, I can’t believe that she is back.

Taking the all too familiar stairway back to work, the feeling of dread was sitting in the centre of my stomach like a heavy weight. When I reach the bar, I can hear Jo shouting. As I turn the corner, Jo and the pantry boy were there. She was shouting instructions and he was following. I looked over and see that every bottle from the stainless steel cupboards has smashed to the ground. When the ship hit the harbour in the early hours of this morning the normally secure drinks cabinets had taken a severe knocking hence the mess behind the bar. The Food and Beverage director had demanded a breakage report. I asked Jo if I could help with anything but she ignored me clearly, annoyed by the task ahead of her.
“Yes, go away and don’t come back until four o’clock,” she shouted angrily, the sound of broken glass crunching under her feet. Yes, an extra two hours of freedom and land.

I ran down the crew stairwell to Allison’s cabin. I knocked on the door, her cabin mate answered. Allison is lying on her bunk.
“Hi Marie,” I said.
Looking over her shoulder I ask Allison if she’s got any time off today. Allison lifted her head and said that she was off but was on in port manning. I asked Marie is she was off and she said yes but was going ashore. I asked her if she knew anyone who was off but not going ashore. I couldn’t imagine that anyone would be off and not be going ashore but it was worth asking.
“Yeh, said Marie, I’m sure that Paul said he’s off today.
“Let’s go and find him and see if he’ll swap your in port manning Allison.” I say, waiting for her to jump off the bunk and the chance of going ashore.
“How come you’re off so early?” asked Allison, last night you said you were working.”
I explained to her about the breakages and she told me that Jackie was doing the same thing. The damage was more internal than external she had heard. No one knows how it happened yet.
Greg answered the door wearing just a pair of boxer shorts. He was more than a little surprised to see us standing at the door, as we were to see him. Allison and I exchanged the quickest of glances.

Their cabin was identical to the others except there were posters of half naked men on the walls and the smell of air freshener or something flowed out into the corridor. Now we’ve been on the ship for some time Paul is no longer the authority on everything. We basically know how things work and that to swap in- port manning duty will cost money. Paul’s skinny shirtless body is lying on the bunk.
“Paul, I say, getting right to the point, will you swap in- port manning with Allison?” There, its out, no messing. I am determined to spend the day with Allison in Vancouver, we’ve only managed Starbucks in Vancouver before but that doesn’t really count. Greg turns his head to look at Paul and I look down at his boxers. My eyes shift to meet Greg eye, as he turns round, a little smile is playing around his lips. Did he catch me looking down there?

Paul gets up and comes to the door. In one athletic move Greg’s strong legs push him up and back to his bunk. It wasn’t till then that I noticed the ‘hairy’ in his bunk. Greg pulls the curtain closed. I wonder why they are not ashore and whether Greg realises that I know about the nude photographs he took of Paul.
“How much?” says Paul, revelling in his moment of power.
“Twenty,” offers Allison, starting the bid.
“Fifty, says Paul. .
I look at Allison and urge her on.
“Twenty five,” she says, quickly.
So it goes on until I agree to help her pay for half of it and they finally agree on thirty-five dollars. Paul takes his cash and opens his wallet slides the notes in and pulls his I.D card out; a condom falls to the floor. This is probably Paul’s chat up line. A shiver runs through my spine. Allison tentatively takes the I.D card and we make our way up to the Atrium. One of the security guards is there and kindly opens up the glass case where the in port-manning I.D’s are kept. A knot tightened in my stomach as I noticed Derek’s I.D is in the cabinet meaning that he is on in-port manning meaning that Neil is probably ashore and hadn’t even attempted to ask if I wanted to join him. Unless that is what he wanted to ask me earlier I think to myself.

Vanessa was out when we got to the cabin but all the evidence that she was back was littered all over the floor.
“God, Ginny, what happened to your cabin?” asks Allison, moving bags off my bunk to make space to sit down. Conscious of the time and eager to get ashore, I fill Allison in on an edited version of the events of the morning as I get changed.
“She’s got a bloody cheek,” laughs Allison. “Where is she now?”
“I have no idea,” I reply, securing my hair at the mirror. “And, I really don’t care”.
Even as the words come out of my mouth, I hardly recognise them as my words. Since when did I become the person to slap someone across the face? Since when did I not have a sympathetic ear for someone else’s problems? I know Vanessa was out of order this morning and that her situation with the Chief Engineer was morally wrong, but she needed someone to talk to and I could only hear her criticism of me, not how she must have been feeling. Moving back to the cabin and the humility of the whole situation must be awful for her. I cant believe I slapped her. In danger of spoiling the day ahead with an impending feeling of guilt, I change the subject.
“God I look awful,” I said to myself in the mirror.
“I wish I looked as bad as you do,” said Allison, smiling behind me. She was so sweet.
I told Allison that my main objective today is to phone home, hers, she tells me is not to phone home, but to have something decent to eat. She has had very limited contact with Alex which I intend to speak to her about over lunch.

We show our I.D cards at the gangway and wait to the side for some passengers to get off. They always take priority. We join the descent into the enclosed gangway and follow the short corridor onto the harbour. You can see the long ugly scar on the ships stern as we look over the rail. We walk through to where the new passengers are waiting to join the ship. They look identical to the passengers that just got off. I walked through the crowd thinking that it seemed like such a long time ago that we joined the ship here.