CODE BRAVO

One of the things about ship life we have to get used to are the announcements that seem to happen all the time. In the mornings the loudspeakers always seem to blaring about one thing or another. Either its telling people to get on tender boats, or telling the crew to run a drill, but mostly its to let people know that they are going to be playing bingo in the Galaxy of the stars.

It gets so that these announcements become like the buzzing of mosquitoes on a summer day. You don’t even think about it until one of them sucks on your blood, and you get malaria. Then you wonder why you spent you’re summer in Tanzania. So two weeks ago we were making our way back to New Orleans. It was like any other return trip, the passengers were exhausted from their vacations, and we were exhausted with the passengers who don’t believe in washing and sanitizing their hands before eating. I was sitting in my room knowing that I should probably be working on my blog but instead I was playing Warcraft counting the minutes until we got far enough up the Mississippi river that my phone would have service again and I could call my wife. Just as I was about to lay a beating on the scourge of the undead the ship started shaking violently.

Now the boat shaking is usually no big deal. It happens whenever they speed up or slow down the ship. Plus, the current captain has no interest in using the stabilizers on the boat. It saves gas, and if some people get seasick well then they’re just pussies. Now when the shaking first started I figured we had probably just entered the Mississippi river, the currents there are strong and take maneuvering. However the shaking did not stop instead it kept going and getting stronger and stronger. In my moment of distraction the scourge of the undead had sealed their victory over me. I was about to restart the game when suddenly through my wall I heard “Code Bravo, Code Bravo.” I was immediately intrigued because this was one of the few codes that I knew.

Now on the ships they have codes for all sorts of things. A code Delta is a biological hazard on the boat. What that means I have no idea, although if you eat at Raffles long enough you’ll experience a code Delta in the bathroom. What? Yeah, I just did a stupid joke. Boom. Deal with it. No. boom. Deal with it. Then there is code Oscar, which means somebody, has fallen off the boat. We had one just this morning. Which I’m surprised hasn’t happened sooner. On the days we are in Belize we anchor a couple of miles offshore and smaller boats come and pick up the passengers and then take them to shore. So in my opinion it was only a matter of time before some goofball decided he didn’t need any help getting on to one of these boats and fell in. In my wildest dreams I always hope that the person falls in driving a little rascal scooter. Not that I want anything to happen to the person, but man do I hate those things. People who use them aren’t little rascals on their little rascals, they’re just humongous pains in the ass. Hey buddy, if you have the strength to get off the boat and into another one then how about not forcing three crew members to pick up you’re five hundred pound fat ass trolley. If you can’t move have the decency to ask the ship to borrow a wheel chair, their lighter. Sorry I’m venting. Anyway the most important code on the ship is CODE BRAVO.

The most dangerous thing on a ship is fire. I know this because I’ve been told this over a hundred times now since being on the ship. Since being on the ship we’ve had two Code Bravo’s: One when there was a fire in Raffles (the buffet) that was quickly put out, but had the whole crew scrambling. The second is what I’m now talking about. So when I first heard Code Bravo I thought “Another fire in Raffles.” And since I delight in irony I decided to go out and have a cigarette. When I stepped out of my room one of my room stewards Bogart was standing there. Bogart has been working on ships a long time. He seems to know everything, so I figured I should gauge the Bravo situation with him. “Did I hear Code Bravo?” I asked him. “Yes, Mr. Peter.” He responded. “Fire in the engine room.” I felt my stomach drop a little. Don’t we need engines? Hmmmmm. Better ask Bogart. “Is that bad?” I asked him. “I wouldn’t worry about it Mr. Peter. Now I need to leave an inordinate amount of mints on your pillow and not fold your towels so they look like animals.” (sic) He said and then shrugged. I felt better immediately although a little sad that Bogart won’t fold towel animals for me. I guess we didn’t need engines, or maybe the fire was small.

I stepped out onto the deck and was greeted with the overwhelming smell of smoke. I checked to see if I had lit my cigarette without realizing it. Still unlit. Yet, it really smelled like smoke, like a lot of smoke. I surmised maybe I was having a sensory hallucination. I figured that an epileptic seizure was coming so I waited for a moment to see if the taste of chocolate covered cherries and the screams of children would fill my mouth and ears. It didn’t come. I then thought possibly I only smelled smoke because I was worried the fire might be big. Probably all in my head. Time to get a second opinion. So I went and knocked on my friend James’ door. He quickly answered and I asked him to follow me outside. “You hear that code bravo?” He inquired. I shook my head yes, and we stepped on the deck. “Am I crazy or do you smell smoke?” I asked him. “Holy fuck! It reeks of smoke out here. Hell you can see it man!” James exclaimed. I began to feel a little nervous, but I remember Bogart’s assurances and clamed myself. We walked further out onto the deck and looked up. Smoke was coming out of the top of the boat.

I understand smoke is supposed to come out of the top of boats. Yet usually it’s just small wisps of smoke. What James and I were looking at was the smoke coming out of every corner, crack, and crevice of the smoke stake. Smoke was belching out like the engine had drunk a bottle of Jaggermeister and decided to have a meal of raw chicken. OK. OK. Don’t panic I told myself. This could just LOOK bad, doesn’t mean it IS bad. We then heard people calling us from the deck below. A group of the youth counselors had gathered below us and looked panicked. “What is going on?” they yelled. I brushed them off. I was more interested in the smoke, and didn’t feel like dealing with the youth counselors. My feeling was that they work on the ship; they should know what’s going on. James went down to talk to them. I muttered to him “They haven’t sounded the alarm, we should all just relax.” A LOT OF SMOKE was coming out of the smoke stack. No alarm though. Nothing to worry about.

See when the shit really hits the fan and its necessary for everybody to bug out quick, they sound alarms. Five short blasts followed by one long blast. I think. I just know for certain short blasts followed by long means we have problems. So as I stood there dumbly staring at the smoke, James went down to talk to the youth counselors. From what he told me they were crying and very upset. There was smoke in the kid’s center and they weren’t getting any answers from anybody. Although I didn’t see any kids with them. So I could be wrong but my feeling was that instead of standing outside and crying maybe they should be with the kids. Of course for all I know the kids could have been out of my line of sight. Although even if they were, there is nothing like crying yourself to keep a kid calm. Kids love it when adults cry. It makes them feel safe.

“They haven’t sounded the alarm.” James told them calmly “There’s nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine.” I believe he may have even patted them on the shoulder to enforce the sense that there was no need to panic. Then the alarm sounded.

The blasts were short, but man did they seem long. I immediately started to head to my cabin. From below I heard James scream, “This is it! This is it!” I would’ve laughed immediately at the sight of James abandoning those youth counselors to their fate if I wasn’t to busy counting how many alarm blasts there had been. One. Two. Three. James is taking steps four at a time to meet me on the upper deck. FOUR. FIVE. Keep walking. “Hey what’s going on man? What is going ON?” A passenger was yelling at us. James was with me now. “Alarm.” James said curtly as we walked to our cabins. “Why is there an alarm?” the passenger nearly screamed at us. We just kept walking. Where was the long blast? Wasn’t there supposed to be a long blast? Maybe it had happened already. All those blasts seemed fucking long. Talk to Bogart. Bogart will know what to do. No need to panic the passenger, just ignore him. If this is real there will be an announcement soon.

We found Bogart standing in the hall. His eyes were very wide and he seemed glad to see us. “Is this real?” I asked Bogart. “Yes, Mr. Peter. Get you’re stuff.” With that said Bogart’s duty to James and me was fulfilled and he disappeared. My stomach felt very cold for a second, and then suddenly everything became very clear very quickly. Grab the wedding photo. Grab the cell phone and laptop. Make sure to have you’re passport and wallet. Call Tabitha and Katy see if they need any help. Make sure James doesn’t do anything crazy. Shawn will be fine; he’s been on these boats longer than any of us. He’s the big brother. No need to worry. Natalie’s parents are visiting, they are with her. They’ll take care of her. Grab you’re life jacket. Time to go. Wait. Make sure James isn’t doing anything crazy.

Everything I needed was in my computer bag and I went and knocked on James door. All I could imagine was James trying to take everything he owned. Filling another bag with the magnetic core of the earth. He answered the door with a frantic look on his face. “Take only what you need.” I said. I saw a lot of clothes on his bed. I imagined just knocking him out and throwing him over my shoulder, instead of helping him pack his hair products. Then the loudspeaker blared again. Here it comes. The announcement. James and I just stared at each other waiting to spring into action. “Hey folks Darin here, you’re cruise director. Sorry for the interruption to you’re evening but some of you might have heard some alarms sound. Nothing to worry about. False alarm. There was a small fire in the engine room that has been contained. It will have no effect on our docking time tomorrow. We will be in New Orleans at 8AM. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Immediately the laughter came, James and me could not stop. We were crying we were laughing so hard. “Those poor youth counselors.” He shrieked. “You fucking abandoned them man! Hysterical.” “I guess I’m not a brave man.” We imagined Shawn going up to raffles in the middle of the boat being on fire to grab ice cream, we howled at the thought of James packing all his stuff and taking up a seat on a tender for his bag. The thought of both of us screaming “We’re passengers! We’re passengers! We’ve never even been in the crew bar.” Had us in giggling fits. Everything was fine.

Later that evening we learned it wasn’t exactly a small fire. That the engine was shot, and there were rumors that we were going to dry dock to repair it. The ship has about four engines I think. I guess one had already broken down earlier in the trip and I wasn’t aware of it. So now we were down to two. Everyone was talking excitedly of maybe having a week in New Orleans, or maybe going home! Yet, we were a week away from the holidays and I couldn’t imagine this boat stopping during its most profitable time of year. My thoughts were right, the boat left that Sunday night so that people could enjoy the Norwegian Cruise line philosophy of Freestyling! Yet due to the loss of the engine we lost Guatemala on our itinerary.

When I went back to my room and unpacked my computer bag, I realized that I had successfully only taken what was necessary. My heart, my soul, my mind, my voice, and my identity. In the end I guess what else are we?