Let The Good Times Roll

Tomorrow is a big “turnaround” day -- having reached Rio after (for most passengers) starting in Chile 18 days ago, now the Veendam takes on 1200 new passengers and does the 18 day opposite-direction version of the same voyage. 1200 people off, 1200 on, luggage, luggage, and more luggage, a very busy day for the “hotel” part of the ship.

I pushed myself out of bed this morning and went to the backstage area of the main showroom. There I stood with all the musicians, plus room attendants, bar staff, casino dealers, salon staff, hotel staff, officers, etc etc ….. all set to march out on to the stage to the tune of “Anchors Aweigh”.

The Cruise Director was out at the front of the stage with a microphone, announcing the various crew as they marched in, with hundreds of passengers cheering us on, clapping hand in time to the tune. Finally all 200 of us were on the stage, a rousing farewell display, standing in many rows, covering so much of the stage that you’d the think the stage would collapse under the weight.

The passengers, having just heard a half-hour disembarkation briefing from the Cruise Director, and then this crazy crew parade, was now primed for some well-staged sentiment.

“Love in any language,
Straight from the heart
Pulls us all together, never apart
And once we learn to speak it
All the world will hear
Love in any language
Fluently spoken here”

This the slow, catchy chorus lyric, sung by (supposedly) the whole 200 of us, after an introductory solo verse by one of ship singers. In the final chorus we all do a loping 2-step, left-to-right, right-to-left. This tune, originally by Sandi Patti, is performed in this way on all Holland America ships on the last cruise day, and guarantees warmth and fuzziness.

The Cruise Director prefaces this tune by saying that over 60 nationalities are represented in the Veendam crew, and we all get along harmoniously, and wouldn’t it be nice if the whole world got along so well? There are about a thousand rebuttals to this simplistic idea, but suffice to say that fighting among crew people results in immediate and permanent dismissal from Holland America’s employ.

So tonight is the last party among the “piano bar gang” that has developed in my little corner of the ship. 18 consecutive days is a lot of time for people to have a lot of fun together in a piano bar. Friendships form, and in some cases they actually continue, with small reunions on future cruises.

Thus far I have yet to see a piano bar patron re-appear on a later ship gig. And so the many many faces and personalities fade in memory, to one extent or another. The people from the longest cruises (for instance the people who got on in San Diego and did 35 days) are the ones you remember the most.

And after this long stretch of fun nights, Pianoman Steve might get a little tinge of sadness that these particular people -- in this happy little time and place -- will soon be gone. You’re happy about the 18-day party, but aware that it will never be repeated. There’s a Portugese word - “saudade” (pronounced sow-DODGE-ay) which describes this odd sad-happy-resigned feeling. Not happy enough for good ol’ nostalgia, not nearly sad enough for grief -- I’ve felt this at the end of some cruises.

Oh well. Onward to the next group, the next unique cross-section of people thrown together by chance and by their love of a good singalong, trying to have the time of their lives.