New Orleans, Louisiana – Yesterday, I not only received my new safety card and all the responsibilities that come with it, but also my dreaded In Port Manning (IPM) colour. This means that I am no longer an incapable idiot, able to sit back and observe in an emergency, but that I now have a role to play and every fourth port I’ll be restricted to the confines of the ship, and not allowed to go to shore in case disaster strikes and I’m needed to spring into action.
I’ve been assigned the role of Team Leader for passenger assembly station X, which is port side forward on the open promenade deck 7. This means that on every embarkation day, the weekly drill, and for real in case of an emergency, I have to gather my clipboard, green cap and bib, and muster the 270 guests assigned to X and tick them off the passenger manifest with the help of the 4 crew in my team.
We then demonstrate how to put on a life vest or actually help them into them if it’s for real, and then load them into the 150 man lifeboats (not on drill days obviously!). Later this afternoon, just before we leave New Orleans, I get my first go in front of a live audience. After successfully shipping my guests into the survival craft, I then head off to the cheap seats to find my place in the 101 man dingy that I’m assigned to.
2 of my assistants get to join the guests in the lifeboats, but on careful consideration I’m actually happy to be with my fellow crew members in the inflatable life raft, as if we’re marooned at sea for any length of time, at least I won’t have to be obliged to keep up the customer service and answer all the daft questions, plus all the crew have done the survival training, so I still fancy our odds a bit better.
I’m now ‘Green’ colour, so have to stay onboard next Belize and the following Honduras. At least on those days I can try and catch up on some much needed sleep or explore the many parts of the ship that I’ve yet to find.
I could think of worse places to be confined to!
Yesterday was not especially quiet in the casino, yet I kept finding myself on no games. After two longish stints spinning the roulette ball every 60 seconds, to no one’s amusement but my own, I was seated on the empty dreaded BJ5 and its unobstructed view of a big bank of sly Panda machines. Within minutes I was fixated on their black beady unwavering eyes and to my horror, I discovered a new even creepier feature of theirs.
Two ladies were merrily tapping away trying to win money out of the China Panda slots directly in front of me, completely oblivious to the perilous danger that was on the screen in front of them. Everytime one of the Panda heads appeared on the win line, its horrible head rotated upside down 360° and the mouth opened in some kind of grotesque smug sneer as if to say “I’m better than you.”.
I was aghast at the site of the beasts and it seemed like they were directly taunting me each time the reels rolled around and presented their ugly faces in the centre slot. I was so engrossed, I even got chastised by my supervisor for not clapping along, as is customary, when one of the dealers receives and banks a tip. I apologised and said that I was just lost in my thoughts, but didn’t dare reveal what was occupying my mind for fear of getting carted off to the looney bin.
Finally a player materialised and saved me from my waking nightmare and as soon as the cards were out, all thoughts of the beastly black and white bears dissipated. Having started at 8:20am, I was very ready for my bed by the time my shift was over at midnight.
Tonight I should finish at a similar time, but tomorrow is another story as Michael and I scheduled to count all the money after the casino shuts at whatever ungodly hour the last patron decides to enough is enough. The cruises from New Orleans are notoriously busy and the closing croupiers last week often reported getting to bed after sunrise at 6:30am. Oh joy!
The Tales of Hippomottie and Her Hapless Inventor 