All the Roadrunning

As we are three days into our westward transatlantic crossing, there is little difference now between the days. Just to provide a glimpse into this repetitive daily routine, I have outlined a typical day as a Tour Manager on the Queen Mary 2 during a transatlantic crossing from Southampton, UK to New York City (or vice versa):

5:45am – the automatic porthole washer begins its high-pressure spraying and cleaning of my porthole, providing the first indication that the start of the work day is in fact near

7:45am – 8:30am – my alarm sounds and out of bed I rise; I trip over the ledge that leads into the bathroom, take a shower and dress myself in my white officer’s uniform

8:31am – begin the walk out of my cabin, along the corridor, down three flights on the ‘A’ crew stairwell to Deck 1, along the main crew corridor that runs the entire length of the ship, passing doors and other stairwells and crew cabins and a few offices until I reach the guest ‘B’ stairwell, which I take to Deck 2, and then proceed to walk from the starboard side of the ship to the port side, turn left in front of the main theatre and in another thirty feet, arrive at my office

8:37am – check my emails – read through the night reports of all the fights, rowdy passengers (and rowdy crew) and any other incidents that needed to be reported – answer a few of the important emails (i.e. the Food & Beverage Manager asking how many guests will be off the ship in New York over the lunch period or a tour operator asking me to confirm that we will not sell any more transfers to JFK because the bus is now full)

8:42am – proceed back down to Deck 1 and to the Officer’s Mess to get a cup of green tea

8:50am – back in the office, answering some more emails (such as when the Crew Office asks for the original receipt from the medical exam I had to undergo in order to join the ship so that they can reimburse me or the tour operator in Hamburg asking how many shuttle buses into the city I will need for our call on the 30th of July)

9:00am – walk across the Grand Lobby outside of my office to the ‘other office’ of our department where my team works; we huddle, I bark out the game plan and then we clap hands and fall into formation. For them this means the start of our opening hours where guests line up to ask us strange and silly questions; for me this means another cup of green tea

9:06am – I sit in my office and do some work, email questions to tour operators, update invoices, prepare reports, create tour booking forms, etc

11:30am – waking up with drool across my cheek and desk, I go back over to the other office, help the girls out (my team is all female) by standing at the desk and getting yelled at because all the ship offers on Sunday is a Catholic Mass or because their toilet overflowed or because they were promised by their travel agent that they would have three complementary bottle of wine in their stateroom but only received two. On occasion a guest actually wants to book a transfer to the airport or a tour of Manhattan or Stonehenge or has a genuine inquiry regarding the disembarkation procedures upon arrival in New York or Southampton

12:00pm – the ‘other office’ closes and we finish up any unfinished morning business

12:15pm – Lunch time – the whole team walks down to the Officer’s Mess, picks up the menu and acts surprised that yet again there is nothing edible on it. And so we all eat salad and the occasional bread roll

1:00pm – we all take a break and I retreat to my cabin where I lie down in my bed, read a few pages of my book or watch a movie, although I am quite disappointed that the seven movie channels on board are still playing the exact same movies that they played when I was here last, six months ago. But nevertheless, I still rely on “A Few Good Men” and “Freedom Writers” to take my mind away from work for a few moments

2:30pm – I return to the office, answer some more emails and get another cup of green tea

3:00pm – the other office opens once again for the afternoon desk hours but I remain in my quiet refuge, listening to the psychotic tunes of the slot machines mixed together with the Motown songs piping into the lobby, and trying to send a few more emails, preparing for our next port and attempting to determine how many tours we should offer in German next time we are in Southampton considering that we will have 750 Germans on board

3:27pm (this time may vary) – at some point, or more likely at several points, throughout the afternoon, my phone rings and I am summoned to the other side to deal with an upset guest. They couldn’t find the transfer bus from the airport to the ship, they want to know why our bus to Newark arrives at 3pm when their flight is at 10pm and they demand compensation because the hotel room they stayed at in London as part of their pre-cruise package had a dirty sink. I listen, nod my head, think of how nice it would be to go on a safari in Africa or if I have enough clean socks to last me through the current voyage and then I inform them, with my most sincerely concerned face, that I will look into the situation and get back to them

5:00pm – the other office closes and I wander over to see how everything is going but also to join the team in eating chocolate stolen from the housekeeping office

5:15pm – we settle down to work, to send tour counts to the tour operators, to book private sedans, to send letters to the guests informing them where to meet on the morning of arrival into port for their tour of Manhattan with 45 minutes of free time at the Herald Square Macy’s

7:00pm – by this time we are usually finished with our work – I have sent all of my necessary emails, have prepared for the following day and have phoned back all of the complaining guests from the previous day to let them know that it is the weekend and as a result I have yet to receive feedback regarding their issue from our head office and so if they could kindly bear with me, I will definitely get back to them on Monday once I hear back from my superiors. And of course I appreciate their patience very much.

In all actuality, however, there was no email sent to my superiors. I already know what compensation I will give but if I give it too soon then word will spread fast among these gossiping guests and soon everyone will have a complaint and be seeking money. The old ‘it’s the weekend’ or ‘I am waiting to hear from my superiors’ trick, buys me necessary time so that I can phone them on the last day of the voyage and tell them that I have credited their account for 25% of the cost of their transfer or tour and that any further issues should be directed to our Guest Relations department shore side.

7:20pm – I am in the passenger gym, staring my workout on the cross-training machine – I had run from my office straight to my cabin, changed into proper gym-attire, grabbed my mp3 player and ran up 6 flights of stairs to reach the fancy gym on Deck 7

8:05pm – I finish my 45 minute intense workout – having always chosen the “Around the World” hill program on the cross-trainer in order to maximize the challenge

8:09pm – I quickly shower and change back into my uniform

8:31pm – I leave my cabin and walk down the stairs, along the main corridor and into the Officer’s Mess, arriving only 26 minutes before it closes

8:34pm – I dine, usually alone at this time, choosing to wind down from the day’s work and the gym in peace, not in the mood to engage in forced chatting while eating cannelloni and onion rings for the third straight night

9:00pm – Leaving the mess, I make my way up to the office, quickly check my emails to make sure that nothing urgent (such as suddenly not having enough buses for the next day’s tours or finding out that the Prince of Qatar suddenly wants a private limo for 7am the next morning) has been sent my way

9:20pm – I remove my uniform, change into normal clothes and once again lie down in my bed

9:22pm – I open my book
9:24pm – I close my book
9:24pm – I water the bamboo plants on my windowsill that have been there since the ship came into existence in 2004
9:25pm – I lie back down
9:26pm – I stare at the wall
9:43pm – I get up and turn on some music, usually staring with “Nobody Left to Run With Anymore” by the Allman Brothers.
9:50pm – I turn off the music and turn on the television
9:51pm – I brush my teeth and take out my contact lenses
9:54pm – I set the time on my phone one hour forward or one hour back depending on which direction across the ocean we are headed; I set the alarm
9:55pm – I take a swig of Crystal Geyser Spring Water and turn off the lights

9:55pm – 5:45am – I wake up many times throughout the night, my brain confused and unable to determine if and how much it should be sleeping as I have now been on board for 11 nights and have already had 9 time changes

***I will actually break from the norm today. Dinner in the mess will be replaced by ‘Gurkha Curry Night’, a biweekly event in which the Nepali security team cooks and serves a feast of curries for the officers and other select crew to enjoy. It is a most welcome evening by all in attendance, offering the tastiest food that we could possibly eat on board, accompanied by wine and beer, Nepali music and traditional dance performances by the sari-clad female security officers. I remember the last time I attended, some time in February, when the International Hostess accidentally dumped a full glass of red wine all over me as I was putting a spoonful of vegetable curry into my mouth, hence the reason why I only have three sets of uniforms now, not the four I originally received.

This entry was posted on Saturday, July 19th, 2008 at 1:00 pm and is filed under Return to Ship Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.