Cruise #3, In Which I am Thrown out of Barbados for Wearing Illegal Pants

We got back into Miami on the 28th. This trip we had enough time and actually knew where we were going, so we managed to make it down to a Target and a mall to stock up on provisions. This included picking up the essentials: an easel and a red feather boa, along with personal junk for all involved.

Colossal Sam is not colossal enough to destroy a Miami transit station

Then it's back to the boat and time for another sail-away party.

This was another 9-day run, so the first stop was Samana. There's not a lot in the port town, so we took a tip from our music director, Floatin' Joe, and jumped in on an excursion to Cayo Levantado, a private island near Samana. It's a cool little spot, nice beach, bar, restaurant, and a lot of drinks served in hollowed out fruits, which is either caused by a boycott of the Dixie corporation or the presence of tourists. They had some cool local music and dancers, though, which we dug. It's a place that's almost, but not quite, entirely unlike Cony Island. This was appreciated by all.

Dominican Rainbow over Samana

The Beach

The Bar

The Booze

The Bentertainment

This was the New Years cruise, they were cool enough to invite us to a great party with some of the folks we work with. The whole shebang was a nice, blue-collar way to say goodbye to 2007 on the SS Luxury. It's been one of the odder years of my life, if only because it let me type that last sentence.

This is Kevin's version of hugging

The Pearl's attempt to take over the Ocean Village Two is rebuffed

Barbados began without incident, and it continued that way until the incident. On the way out of the port, I was grabbed by a policeman and told I would have to leave the country. The worst thing I'd done up to that point was make fun of a guy's mustache, and I was pretty sure that isn't a deportable offense anywhere. He went on to tell me that I had on illegal pants.

This was a new term to me.

As it turns out, camouflage is illegal in Barbados, so my shorts had turned me into an enemy of the state. As my brother later pointed out, camouflage shorts aren't the best way to disappear into the background, especially when they're on someone whose legs haven't seen the sun since Dukakis was nominated. It's not unlike painting the tops of two florescent bulbs camouflage, then turning them on.

So, in what has to be the shortest exile in history, I went back to the boat, put on legal gear, an met everyone at the Boatyard, the beach-joint we hit on the last 9-day. The Boatyard is a savagely nutty scene, as it's where the crews from all the different cruise ships head to when they hit Barbados. They give a discount to anybody with a crew badge, so everybody gets in nice and cheap. Admission includes a shuttle back to the boat, and I'm sure there's been many a wobbly walk up the gangplank thanks to it.

That said, we kept it nice and chill for the most part, and nobody went loony when Coyote Ugly broke out. We spent the day lounging on the beach, marveling over the "bungee-run", a brilliant sport that's like horizontal bungee-jumping. It's looks, for the most part, like a sport designed by ADHD sufferers for ADHD sufferers.

The Boatyard, where three things are yellow

The part of me that is in shape

Aside from that international incident, it was a nice, crazy run. The shows were probably the best we've done yet, and seem to be improving every week. We're back to the five-day run, now, and, at the end of it, I head to the doctor for X-Rays to see if the cast can come off. Cross your fingers. If I could, I wouldn't be going to the doctor in the first place.