Unforgettable cruise

Chapter 16 - (actual chapter 7) love infection

🎼 Big ship sailing on the o-ceannn 🎼


Freddie MacGregor’s soothing singing atop the restful reggae beat absolutely was apropos for the smooth cruise Leigh was currently enjoying the following morning. One of the few reggae tracks in her personal music collection and possibly her favorite in that genre, it sounded really good played by her handheld (currently on a table) through the stateroom’s Bluetooth-capable barely-visible (other than the video screen) built-in audio/video infotainment system. It was a perfect background for the moment, out at sea, refreshed from her overnight sleep, picking out her outfit for the day.


In terms of covering ground, modern cruise ships could easily sail right on up from Los Angeles to the lowest part of Alaska in 4 days, with no intermediate stops. More commonly, U.S. west coast cruises stopping in multiple ports might run the same 4 days, from southern California to Seattle, or more often Vancouver if they needed to go to a non-U.S. port for regulatory reasons related to whose flag under which they sailed. For this itinerary and others in their system, Royal Prince Cruise Lines chose to mash up a cruise to nowhere—a cruise solely for being on a cruise ship’s sake—with port visits. This mash-up led to the leisurely pace of an entire 11 days up to the northernmost port for a two-day stay as in S.F., then a quicker 4 day southerly return trip with far fewer port stops, and at least one new one, before returning to San Diego then again to the L.A. home port and continuing the loop.

Leigh and all other cruisers on board were currently experiencing, and presumably enjoying, one of these restful interludes: an overnight on the ocean—2 days between departing from San Francisco and arriving in Eureka, California.


With no need to be thinking about land-based sightseeing or other land-based activities, it fell to Leigh to figure out what she’d most enjoy doing on the Sapphire Prince. The most immediate choice she already knew: *breakfast!*


* *
Seating was scarce in Home Comfort, one of the ship’s many restaurants. Specializing in general cuisine leaning towards various cultures’ comfort foods (with a heavy traditional American emphasis), many other cruisers besides Leigh apparently decided that today was a good morning for more basic, familiar fare.

Far more disconcerting than the seating situation were the several soft-spoken conversations she heard as she roamed around deciding where to sit.

A pair of late middle-aged women:

“*Three* more!”

“Confirmed cases?”

“No: *dead!*”


A balding well-fed man around her age, speaking with what on surface appearances may have been his wife:

“We’re on a fucking floating petri dish. This was a *bad* idea.”

“Should we disembark in Eureka and rent a car or something?”

“May have to. At least maybe the virus isn’t there yet.”


An arguing middle-aged couple:

“Says right here the risk increases linearly with age—*there’s your answer!*”

“Yes, but what does that *mean?!* It’s not like the novel coronavirus has a built-in date function that pulls up your or my or anyone’s public records that the AARP amongst others uses to check our birth dates!”

“If you’ve got this all worked out, why don’t you do us all a favor and get with the CDC and lay your ‘brilliant insights’ on them!”


Anyone coughing earned several to many steely-eyed glares aimed their way.


Contrary to her prior experiences on this cruise, seeing an open seat at a table across from Clark Barr in this moment was a welcome sight indeed! She didn’t consciously put on a slight additional sexy sway as she headed directly towards him with a smile: that was her subconscious putting out that order from her brain bridge to the engine room of her body’s muscles.

For reasons she couldn’t fathom, he didn’t appear pleased to see her.


“Is this seat taken?”

“No. Have at it.”


Once Leigh figured out what she wanted, waitress Mackenzie dropped by and cheerily took her order.


Clark’s demeanor remained subdued, “Are you as hungry as you look?”

She could feel her face flushing ever-so-slightly. “Yes.”

“Anything I have that you’d like?”

{Yes, and we can’t possibly get into that here in any way that won’t get us thrown into the brig—or at least me.} “You don’t want all you have?”

“I’m not really into it this morning, like I thought I’d be when I ordered. Prolly should’ve gone for something with more flavor than bland comfort food. Seriously: anything you want.”

“Rest of your muffin, please?”


He almost smiled mildly as he passed it over. Seeing her eagerly bite into it right away briefly lit him up ever-so-slightly, before quickly dimming back down.


“How was your tour yesterday?”

“It was alright” munch, munch. “I took your suggestion to take the ferry to Sausalito, discovering that it stops first at Angel Island then Tiburon” munch.

“How’d you like Angel Island?”

“Didn’t get off there. No especial interest in the Ellis Island of the West.”

“There’s a *lot* more to it than that! It can be very pretty for a nature walk, especially in springtime as we are.”

“Yeah, maybe I blew it” she sighed.


Mackenzie was back, bringing her smile to the table. “Heeeerrree ya go!: Tex-Mex omelette, toast, and bacon! Refill on your coffee?”

“Yes please.”


Eating took priority to conversation for Leigh, happy to dig right in to her breakfast.

Clark had nothing he wished to say, losing himself to wistfulness from the living art masterpiece in live motion in front of him. He certainly wasn’t eating much of his own meal.


A couple of minutes later, curiosity overcame her, “You like watching me eat?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

His voice sounded especially wistful as he replied, “You look so happy when you’re eating.”

“I like eating” she smiled, resuming. Her comment apparently triggered a momentary flicker of something along the lines of energy within him, then back to his dim, distant grey.


“What’s up, Clark?”

“Nothing.”

{Alright. I tried} she thought as she continued enjoying her omelette, other than its to-her unexpected blandness.


“Did you explore Tiburon? Or skip that too and go to your actual destination?”

“No, I did Tiburon. *Explored* Tiburon.”

{Figures you’d be possibly lust-minded when I’m at a nadir of interest in that with anyone.}

“A couple of things like the horse statue and the Hippie swing seemed worth checking out and weren’t *that* far away in the greater scheme of things, but farther than I wanted to walk after all the walking I did day before yesterday in S.F., plus day before that in Monterey.”


She went on to describe what she did do and see, both there and in Sausalito.


“What about you? What did you do yesterday?”

“Slept in my stateroom—*by myself*, lounged in the sun. That’s about it. Exciting stuff.”

“Figured out what you’re doing today?”

He slowly half-shook his head, maintaining eye contact. Half a minute later he said, “You’re a very curious one, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to spend my day. Thought you might have some good ideas.”

“Nothing that Royal Prince hasn’t already suggested in their literature. I may well just rest again.”

“You’re not going to go to the sports bar and bro it up?”

{Where did *that* come from?!} “*What?*”

“You know” she wiggled in her seat. “Talk about guy stuff and sports and all that.”

With a look of shock he told her, “You do not know me well at *all*” as he got up and left.


She again watched him the entire time he walked away, until he was out of sight.


Hunger quickly overcame both the brief emotional wake and less-than-exciting flavor profile.