Smuggler's Blues

As I mentioned in my previous post, the Charlie Brown on Vacation curse has struck on cruises as well. The Tiki Gal and I have gone on two Caribbean cruises with Dale and Carol. Both times, we left from Galveston, Texas and stopped in Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Cozumel, Mexico. The first cruise was on a Royal Caribbean ship and the second was on a Carnival ship. If you are wondering about the difference between the cruise lines, the Royal Caribbean cruise was better but we had more fun on the Carnival cruise - if that makes any sense. Of course, we made most of the fun on the Carnival ship on our own. 

The biggest difference, in my opinion, between the cruise lines was the attitudes of the bar staff - and since this is the Tiki Bar blog, that carries a lot of weight with me. The Royal Caribbean bar staff seemed to genuinely care about mixing and serving decent drinks with appropriate measures of alcohol. We even found favorite bartenders on the ship and by the end of the week, they were giving us recipes for the drinks. On the other hand, the Carnival bar staff - with one exception - seemed more interested in getting you out of the way so they could dig out another bucket of Budweiser in aluminum bottles than in serving you a decent drink. Early in the week, I ordered a Margarita at the pool bar. The bartender pulled out a pitcher of some premixed stuff and poured it over a glass of ice. Without adding anything to it, he handed it to me. I was dubious, to say the least, so I took a sip and it honestly tasted like watered-down, lime flavored Kool-Aid. If you've read any of my previous postings on Margaritas, you know that I'm a big fan. I was not a fan of the watered down Kool-Aid, however, so I asked the bartender if there was any tequila in the drink at all. He assured me there was but my look of disgust must have tipped him off that I was still not convinced. He then grabbed a tequila bottle and poured - maybe - a quarter shot of tequila on top of the Kool-Aid and gave me a big smile. I wanted to beat him with an aluminum Bud bottle.Needless to say, I didn't order another Margarita on the ship.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't even classify the Margarita issue as a Charlie Brown moment. I saved all those for the islands themselves. Surprisingly, I've had the least trouble in Jamaica. If you've been to Jamaica, you will understand why I'm surprised. Jamaica has a reputation as one of the rougher islands you might visit. The shop keepers and vendors are very aggressive in their selling techniques. We've been offered drugs there several times. We've even been warned about the types of cabs to use and those to avoid. It seems that the independent cab drivers are as likely to rob you as to take you where you want to go. With all that could go wrong, my Charlie Brown moment in Jamaica is pretty tame. The last time we were there, we spent the day at an all-inclusive resort and, after lunch, a perfect storm of circumstances caused Dale and I some problems. First, the girls went to get some drinks at the bar. They asked the bartender for Margaritas for Dale and me and to "surprise" them with something good. He surprised them, all right. I think he mixed some vodka, everclear, and 151 proof rum with a few drops of lime juice. Of course, the "surprise" drinks were too strong for the girls to drink so Dale and I traded our Margaritas for the fire water. Soon after finishing those drinks, we discovered the swim-up bar. I have to say, there is very little in life that is better than a swim-up bar on a tropical island. Between the cool pool water, the beautiful scenery, and the never ending flow of alcohol I was ready to spend my next vacation sitting right there. Anyway, Dale and I each drank about a million Red Stripes at the swim-up bar so we were feeling really good by the end of the day. We took a taxi back to the pier and that's where my problems started. First, I'm not all that good at math after a million Red Stripes so I managed to give the cab driver a ten dollar tip for a five minute cab ride. Once I explained this to the Tiki Gal, she took my wallet and the card key to our room away for safe keeping. We then got in line to go through the baggage screening and metal detectors and, as usual, I ended up at the back of our group. We got to the metal detectors and Dale, Carol and the Tiki Gal all stepped through with no issues. When I stepped through, however, a female Jamaican cop asked me to step to the side with her. I started wondering why I was given this grand opportunity and noticed that other guys behind me were being asked to step aside as well. Why did this new step in the process start with me? I don't think I look like a smuggler of illicit materials. Anyway, the female officer asked me to stand with my legs apart and my arms raised. I did as asked and she then proceeded to give me a very thorough pat-down. Very thorough. She and I don't have a lot of secrets, if you know what I mean. In some cultures, we would be considered married. At this point, I was glad I at least got the female officer. Some of the other poor saps got the burly male officers. I looked over and Dale, Carol and the Tiki Gal were obviously enjoying the show. Luckily, I wasn't packing anything that would get me in trouble and I was sent on my way. I went immediately back to my room and took a series of really hot showers. Very thorough, hot showers.