Wednesday

Our dinner companions last night were delightful people.

To my right were David and Judith (my little brother might find something amusing in those names from our past). They hail from the United Kingdom.  Several years ago, not waiting for his employer of several years to collapse and blame “W” David started a washing machine repair business.  I told him about my adventures fixing our washer and he applauded it as a job well done.

To their right were Tina and Bruno.  A young couple on their honeymoon, she the only daughter of wealthy parents, they regaled us with the grandeur of their wedding.  Bruno has a very familiar face.  Tonight I am going to ask him if he has appeared on television or in movies, of if perhaps, he is a member of the WWE.  I swear, I’ve seen him somewhere before.

On around the table, putting them to Bonnie’s immediate left were Richard and Sue.  Sue is a hairdresser.  Dick is retired from outside sales.

The three couples had been together on Monday night, and we were the New Kids at the Table.  So introductions were made all around.  Last night was also the first formal night of the cruise (the only other one will be on the last sea day as we head for Fort Lauderdale).

Speaking of food, we ate breakfast with two ladies, sisters, from Maryland – and in the general Baltimore region (they didn’t have a clue where Oakland was, nor that it originally received only two television stations, half of them being KDKA – when I mentioned the Wisp Ski Area, they allowed as how they knew where I meant).  Sylvia is the professional cruiser in that duo, and Jamie, her sister is a retired elementary school principle.  Jamie and Bonnie regaled each other with horror stories from their working days and both agreed they were glad they were out of the harness.

Bonnie hustled off to ceramics class (where she is making a large dinner plate, colored in green and yellow and featuring characters from “Finding Nemo” on eating surface – the crafters had to come up with their own designs – I’m not sure the logic behind those choices, but she is having fun with it).  As Bonnie left, she placed me in the care of the sisters, knowing that my honor was safe.

Sylvia told a story on herself and her husband, Tommy, from an earlier cruise, perhaps the only cruise he’s accompanied her.  If the Bro had been listening to the story, he and I would have fallen convulsively into the floor (and it was better in the telling, I’m afraid, than it is in the reporting).

Tommy is pushing 70, and while shopping with her on Jamaica stopped to rest.  Sylvia told Tommy to go back to the ship, take her purchases, and she would keep shopping.  He agreed to the suggestion and before he left her, Sylvia recruited two younger ladies, 40-somethings, to make sure Tommy got back to the ship.  That night at supper, without a single word being told of his afternoon and evening before Sylvia got back, Tommy said, “My name is Dimples!” Stunned at this unexpected revelation, Sylvia pulled the details of his day out into the open.  He had paid for a taxi cab to get the trio back to the ship, and then they had spent most of the rest of the time buying rounds of drink.  The 40-somethings said when he laughed he had amazing “Dimples.”  I don’t think Tommy is allowed to come on cruises anymore, and certainly if he did, would never be placed in the company of unattached females.

My talk this morning on Curacao was well-received, and a number of people in the audience asked questions.  One man, offering a comment – since he’s been here, done that – gave me a third explanation for the name of the island (There was a guy at the “Pirates of the Caribbean” talk who told me things I should have added).

One suggestion is the name comes from the Portugese for healing, since sailors stopping there and eating the local fruit would get large doses of vitamin C which would heal their scurvy.  Another suggestion comes from the Spanish name for heart, since the island kind of, sort of looks like a heart.

The new explanation is great.  In the early days when Spanish fortune hunters would be exploring for gold, it was the rule of the Spanish authorities that a priest be on station. The benefits of having a spiritual presence was obvious.  On one such mining expedition, however, the miners and the priest were slaughtered by the indigenous population. These particular natives were cannibals, and years later several pieces of armor, a few tools, and one set of bones were discovered. The bones, found in what appeared to be a cook pit, were believed to be those of the priest – because of several pieces of religious jewelry that were found along side of the bones. The explorers who made this grisly find named the island “Cura Asado” which through careless usage became Curaçao. The Spanish translates as “Baked Priest.”

After supper tonight, hopefully free of baked clergy, your friendly neighborhood cruisers are going to see “Comedy Showtime” staring ventriloquist Brad Cummings.  If they can stay awake.

Tomorrow we explore Aruba.