What can I honestly say about this photo that it doesn't already say on its own?
Oh wait, I know....TRAUMATIZING!
Funny how that works. Any normal viewer may think, "Well that's refreshing... Even though they have huge orange life vests on, they still look like they're having fun."
Not so much. The words fun and life preserver don't really belong in the same sentence (unless of course you're speaking in reference to a floating chair, a drink tray of some sort, or really any other resourceful non-life-threatening purpose in which life preservers are sometimes used).
The infamous muster drill....
So, I understand the concept behind the muster drill, but nothing quite says lifesaver like three mildly intoxicated adults and a screaming two year old. Given my emergency management experience, I think I could do a pretty sufficient job creating a few pre-drill rules for the passengers:
Rule one: Know what time the muster drill is scheduled.
Rule two: Limit your alcohol consumption to one drink (if any) before the drill. Scratch that, you should AT LEAST have one drink before the drill.
Rule three: Small children should be locked in a cabin while you attend the muster drill. (This is for both their safety and the sanity of others of course.)
Rule four: Be prepared to sweat profusely while standing in line for a ridiculously long period of time...with an abnormally large life vest around your neck.
Rule five: If you're claustrophobic you should not participate in any muster activities unless there is an actual emergency (and even then I would question heading to the deck areas).
See, that would have been the smart way to approach such an event. Inform the guests with the need-to-know facts and leave the rest out.
Looking back to our cruise experience, this event flashes hazard with every sense of the word.
Let me add some insight for those of you who seldom take a cruise. A muster drill (also sometimes referred to as a lifeboat drill or a boat drill) is an exercise conducted by the crew of a ship prior to embarking. It includes all pertinent information directly related to proper emergency departure from the ship. You know, an effort to prevent such events as those that occurred during...let's just say....the Titanic for example. I can't really think of anywhere in the Caribbean that thousands of passengers are going to freeze to death, but I'm pretty sure shark bait is the first on my list.
Sure, slap a life vest on and jump on in. I'm thinkin' not so much.
I don't really know about you, but when a boat that's carrying over 3,000 people takes a nosedive to the deepest part of the Atlantic, the last thing I want to be doing is trying to figure out where D Deck is located. Naturally, I want to find the nearest bar, possibly even the engine room in an effort to huff as many fumes as possible to help soothe the ever chaotic circumstances.
Protocol...that's how they run these things. March 'em in, line 'em up, show 'em how it's done, and send 'em on their way. Though, I don't recall anyone demonstrating the appropriate being-eaten-alive-by-a-shark technique.
Both of my sisters, their significant others, myself and Ellie were all stationed at the same deck. Who knows if that actually helped the situation or would hurt it in the long run.
So, the drill is in full swing. We're lining up on the deck and Ellie at this point is completely devastated...and when I say devastated, I mean I was that mom with the screaming kid. Yep, that was me.
For starters, the ship wasn't even scheduled to leave port until 10:00pm. This means that the muster drill was at approximately 9:30pm, which just happens to be the normal bedtime for the offspring.
So she's miserably tired, hot, and antsy like normal toddlers around this time. Luckily, like I mentioned before, the adults had already downed a few brews before the whole thing started, so I was pretty calm and collected about the whole thing (hints the smile I'm displaying in the picture above).
Just a quick question before I continue...
How many of you new mothers have been forced to strap an oversized life vest on your child...while she's screaming? Anyone? Well I have, and there's just no pretty way to do it. Then, once you get it on, one of the crew members has to come by and slap a wristband on your child so she doesn't get shipped to the wrong deck if something were to happen. I can only imagine the thoughts streaming through her head at this point.
She's yanking the wristband off, pulling at her neck and screaming like someone is about to throw her overboard (which I'm sure that thought crossed several minds by this point).
In the split second that she actually caught her breath, Ellie looks up to me with the most pitiful, tear filled eyes and says, "Hold me, Mommy." So of course, like any good mother would want to do, I try to pick her up to comfort her in this traumatizing moment.
What happens next? Like any good mother, she slips out of my hands, onto the deck, and then into the water.
Sike! I might be a new mom, but I'm not that bad. I will say though, it is physically impossible for one human being to hold another human being (child or full grown) when both are wearing those life vests. Not a pretty sight.
