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Captain Imperfecto and Nico headed on a cruise
October 7, 2014
I took my six-year-old son, Nico, on a cruise, and his behavior wasn't bad despite all the excitement around him. His conduct was my main fear and trepidation when taking my young child on this cruise. I'll have to admit, as you can read so far in this first paragraph, I was expecting Armageddon when I unleashed my son on that Carnival cruise ship. And that havoc I thought would begin as soon as we got off that charter bus we took to travel the 70 miles from our house to the Port of Miami.
I had nightmares in the months since booking this trip. Nico somehow makes his way toward the control room by battling the crew as they try to thwart his mutiny in vain. Only to lose to his cunning, manipulative, six-year-old ways, and he would commandeer the ship!
"Cap'n, a little pirate has taken to twelve decks and be forcin' his way into quarters!"
"Begad, ye bilge-sucking, swine! Hold that scallywag aft, you yellow belles. It's only a lad!"
I wouldn't put that thought past my son and his cunning abilities. That also applies to my other son, Christopher. But he wasn't going on this excursion. The stomach flu had his number.
[Alarms going off inside the bridge of the giant ship.]
"C'ap'n, shiver me timbers! Ye, have a problem!" the first mate yells.
"What is it, man? Terrorists? Rouge wave?"
"No worse, c'ap'n! It's a six-year-old buccaneer, and he's taken the helm of the ship, and the keel is aimed right at the iceberg!"
[Back to reality]
Are there icebergs in the Caribbean? Well, it doesn't matter. My mind is running rampant with thoughts of mischievous deeds he could be a part of. But hey, that scenario could've happened. If you know my boys.
A friend was getting married, so naturally, I thought I would take a child. I wanted to take both my sons, but on a ship with low railing and nothing but blue sea on either side, I tried to avoid being placed into the situation of choosing who to go after first if one should go overboard.
"Sir," the security officer said, "your son went into the sea."
"Which one?"
"Both"
I couldn't risk such a travesty, so I settled for the oldest. There are perks to being the oldest son.
We entered the area where the passengers prepared to embark on their cruise. It was a large entry, much like an airline concourse. Once inside the steel and large windowpane, framed hangers, those sizeable clear glass windows gave all who entered an unobstructed view of the large steel, painted white ship.
Amazing how something so significant wasn't even trying to sink. My son and I pushed our faces against the glass in an attempt to look down at the large rope lines that moored this enormous 900-foot ship. I can only imagine the concrete the construction contractor had to pour to prevent the 70,000-ton behemoth from straying away.
"Come on, Dad, let's go. Let's get on that boat!" my son exclaimed.
"We have to check in before we board, Nico," I said.
I looked over at the line of passengers waiting for their turn. I knew I was in for some heavy negotiating with my son to keep him calm and taper his excitement. That boy wanted to board that ship. And he tried to board it now.
The line of eager people, who were smiling and laughing as their excitement exuded, moved steadily. But Nico and I were still a few ways back from entering the gangway. Nico could not stand still for a long time, so he kept himself busy by running around the line divider stanchions and knocking off the straps that separated the zigzagging people. The stanchions weaved the people into an excellent tight package instead of the line forming into a very long conga line.
With every flick of the strap, the retractable line would hiss as it rewound in the farthest away stanchion winding mechanism, where it would tuck itself away. The plastic end of the nylon seatbelt-type strap would clank on the sides of the stanchions, giving fair warning to people to move out of the way.
The strap acted like a whip, and as it slung itself backward, people standing behind it would run for cover to avoid being struck. I would look back at the person standing behind me and cordially ask them, "Do you mind holding my place? I'm going to make my son walk the plank."
"Nico," I said as I rushed towards him, "stop. Stop. Stop." I demanded.
Nico was laughing and running away from me as fast as he could to avoid getting caught. All the while, he was slinging all the nylon stanchion straps and giggling. We weren't even on the ship yet, and here I was chasing after my Moby Dick.
I wasn't planning a fishing expedition, but this adventure was finding me. I couldn't catch this fish on the mainland. What could I expect at sea? Well, I have no choice because it's just this little pirate and me for the next three days.
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