So, if things had gone the way they were “supposed” to go, my wife and I would, on this day and just about this hour, be boarding our cruise ship in sunny Florida and soon would be sailing on a southerly course toward the exotic Caribbean. We would have just unpacked our (too full!) suitcases into our immaculate stateroom and have enjoyed our first drink (with the obligatory fruit and umbrella adornments) and our first meal aboard. We would have had plenty of time to get together with our cruising companions and had a great gab fest. We would have probably then wandered around the ship, impatiently waiting for the “sail away” festivities and savoring the utter joy of watching the land slide away and the blue ocean to take its place.
But, of course, that didn’t happen.
What did happen was this damn corona-virus. And poof… just like that, all those things we were supposed to do just… went away. It’s not like the last time I canceled a cruise. That was four years ago, I’d just suffered a heart attack and was just too weak to attempt a “week in the sun.” But in that case the boat DID sail – just without us.
This time our boat did NOT sail. Most of the cruise ships of all the fleets are empty, sitting at docks or sitting out on the water, empty except for the crews. They’re keeping busy cleaning and refurbishing the ships, but their reason for existence has become moot. Those ships have become dangerous ground for the passengers (and crew). As has been said recently, they are now floating Petri dishes. The virus absolutely LOVES those places where people congregate and are close to one another. The news of the past several weeks show that.
So instead of feeling a piña colada sliding down my throat and the gentle rocking of a ship at sea, my wife and I now sit and talk about what might have been. And remind ourselves that those things we love have not gone away forever. We look forward to sailing again. We look forward to enjoying the company of our sailing companions and we contemplate the new adventure that is waiting for us sometime out there in the future.
And that leads us to the question – just exactly how far in the future will that happy day be? When will it again become safe to travel, both on the airlines and the cruise ships? How long will we need to sit at home, watch the increasingly dire reporting on the television news shows and count the days until that ephemeral time arrives when we can again push the GO button.
How long?
I hear estimates of that period of time. Pundits and politicians say weeks or possibly months. This has to happen first and that has to occur they say. The virus has to “pass its peak” and/or this or that medicine/vaccine has to be developed and tested. Year-to-a-year-and-a-half for that last one.
Ughhh…
Now understand that I have never been much of a gad-about. I’m usually pretty content to sit at home and do stuff around the house. I usually let my wife do the shopping and do our family gad abouting. But now, sitting at home because I’m supposed to; hell, it seems like a weird kind of prison sentence. But then I remember: There are invisible bugs outside that door that would like nothing less than attacking me and bringing me down. Maybe my neighbor has it. Maybe the postman. Perhaps one of the guys from my lodge. And I could “get it” just by a handshake, an inadvertent cough, sneeze droplets lingering on a stair rail or in a hundred other ways.
Yipes!
It’s creepy as all hell. Because the outside looks absolutely normal! Muddy and a bit rainy with occasional peeks of glorious sunshine. Totally normal for this time of year and for this place. Except for the store closures, the school closures, the paucity of traffic and the way folks are beginning to go out of their way to avoid contact. Except for the new normal of fist or elbow bumps for greetings, when greetings are absolutely necessary, for the quick dash to the store or carry-out restaurant for food – keeping your distance from your fellows here and there. Except for the long-lasting boredom of staying at home interspersed with the ever-present newscasters with their announcements of doom and destruction. And of course, of politics.
So what to do, what to do, what to do?
I guess the word to live by in these modern days of pestilence and worry is hunker. As in hunker down. Staying socially isolated as much as possible and “riding out the storm”. Keeping calm and collected. Keeping your mind and body as active as possible. And keeping the faith. This too shall pass. After an as yet undetermined period of time has passed we’ll be able to look back and say, “remember when…?” We’ll all smile, but inside a little shudder will occur.
Our sadly cancelled cruise WILL happen… down the road… after a period of time… when things have settled down… when this bug is dead. And we WILL enjoy it, especially because to do so we had to wait and be patient for the stars to align, the winds to be at our backs and for the pestilence to be vanquished.
I can smell the ocean spray now!
(No, sorry, that was hand sanitizer I was smelling.)
See you on the other side…
