The 29-Second Commute
I slept late this morning, not waking up until 8:45am. But you see, this is when having a 29 second commute from my ‘home’ to my office proves more than beneficial. Not only does this short journey allow me to still arrive at work on time after oversleeping by thirty minutes, but it also allows me to use my own bathroom, relax on my sofa during a break and change my socks midday if my feet start to itch.
The quickest route to my office is to exit my cabin, turn right, walk down two flights of stairs and then straight along Deck 2 to the middle of the ship, passing the Royal Court Theatre, card tables, computer center and Queen Mary 2 museum along the way. However, this route can at times be dangerous, as wheelchairs, groups of mah jong players and intrigued museum visitors can create some major congestion, often resulting in slow movement or even gridlock conditions. And there is always the possibility that I will be pulled over by a passing guest, usually by someone who mistakes my white uniform for that of an officer on the bridge, and asked such questions as ‘How deep is the ocean here?’ or ‘Can you explain the azipod system that propels the vessel?’ No, I can’t.
My alternate route to work is slightly longer than the former in terms of distance, as it involves me ducking down to Deck 1, walking all the way to the B stairwell, and then walking back up to Deck 2. However, this path is 99% located in crew-only areas, which automatically eliminates any heavy traffic, mah jong players and technical questions. The only possibility of delay here is if I happen to run into another crew member, one in which a simple passing “Hey there” does not suffice. This is not usually a bad thing, as it is quite nice to engage in quick conversation with other people in this community, share frustrations and laugh about the toughness of the halibut again. It’s just that if I am in a rush and suddenly find myself chit-chatting with the Captain about the beauty of Halifax in autumn, I just might be late in arriving at the office.
Other factors that come into play are vacuums and mops. If the carpets on Deck 3 are being vacuumed, I might have to turn around and retrace my steps and then use the identical route on the other side of the ship. If the floors are being mopped on Deck 2, I will have to slow my pace considerably in order to avoid hydroplaning into a steel pole.
I probably return to my cabin 6 or 7 times throughout each day. Sometimes for vital reasons such as trying to toss another rolled up tissue into the garbage bin against the back wall while standing by the bathroom door 8 feet away. (I keep a tally until I reach 50 attempts and then I begin a new round – Round 1: 22 for 50 / Round 2: a dismal 13 for 50 / Round 3 is off to a much better start: 4 for 7.) Some of my other mini-breaks are for reasons of much less importance, watering my bamboo plants, cutting my toe nails or making sure nobody is hiding in my shower for example.
Tomorrow we arrive once again in Southampton, having completed another five days at sea. We sailed through some rather rough waters the past few days, with waves swelling as high as my Deck 4 cabin. But apart from a barely noticeable sway, the ship was hardly affected as usual.
We also passed within a hundred miles of the sunken Titanic, although we do that every time we cross the Atlantic. Vegetable satay was served for dinner on the first day again and swordfish on the third and of course they were out of rocky road ice cream by day number two. The Groovy Choir sang again in the Grand Lobby this very afternoon.
Everything remains constant on these crossings, just as my commute typically remains under half a minute in duration. And what a pleasure it is to know that my journey to and from work is completely unaffected by the weather or holiday seasons or road crews or jackknifed eighteen wheelers. I have only the odd mop or pallet full of lima beans to avoid on occasion.
First thing tomorrow morning I actually have a meeting with our shore side management taking place in conference room #4 on board the ship. Several managers from our head offices in the UK will have to wake up considerably earlier than normal and drive a farther distance than they are used to in order to reach the ship in time for the 7:30am meeting.
I will set my alarm for 7:10am, plenty of time to shave, shower, put on my uniform and even style my hair. My commute to conference room #4 is only 9 seconds.
Tags: Return to Ship Life
