updated July 2016. So often, people ask me what it was like to work for a tiny cruise ship. I can give you all sorts of reasons why I loved it -from the places we went to the amazing people I met. If you ask my coworkers, they’ll likely tell you I was a bitch and hated it… I’m here to tell you that is absolutely not the case, BUT it could get tedious and monotonous and if the guests that week were less than ideal, it could be awful. This was what it was like to be me three years ago… one day I’ll give you a play by play of my bartending job, and one day I’ll spill all the dirty details of the boat life.
So many people ask me a variant of the following: “how do you like your job?” Inevitably, after I answer “I love my job,” they say, “it must be so FUN.”
Dear readers, allow me to explain – in detail – a day in my life aboard the {boat}.
I wake up to a beeping alarm (that no doubt bothers my roomies) at 6:03 or 6:07. If we happen to be at Glacier Bay, it goes off at 5:33 instead, but no matter. I throw on a pair of grubby khakis, a dark blue polo and white shoes, brush my teeth and attempt makeup to hide my bleary eyes. I walk up the stairs – narrow, fire-resistant carpeted stairs – to a tiny landing that houses a pile of maps, several boxes and some kind of cart that I have never seen in use onboard. I stop, look into the mirror that’s on the wall, brace myself, and then open the door to a barrage of people. On my 30 second walk from that door to the still-closed doors of the dining room, I might greet anywhere from 5 to 15 guests, all with a bright smile and cheery voice: “good morning, ___.”
If I stop behind the bar to make myself an espresso, I greet more guests. I may even make them a drink, though thankfully I usually manage to avoid that. By 6:30, I escape to the sanctuary that is the dining room, all 900 square feet of it. I begin to set up for breakfast with 2 other people. I set up the buffet, make a bread basket with bagels, English muffins, and various breads, fold napkins, and help my coworkers finish their duties. When the food gets pushed out, I arrange it on the buffet and make sure everything has both a sign and a serving utensil. At 7:30, my supervisor opens the doors and we are instantly smiling and greeting all 60 guests. They file through the doors and down the buffet line, slowly making their way past the fruit plate, muffins, eggs, sausages and bacon, oatmeal and all the other breakfast we set out for their enjoyment. There’s even a tea station, yet always someone sits down and then asks for me to bring them tea. The answer is always, “yes, of course, what kind would you like?”
I manage the buffet, watching the eggs and then letting the chefs know if we need more; adding fruit to the tray when it gets low; consolidating it from two counters down to one; resetting a full tea station; helping the galley push clean dishes out. When the last guest has left the dining room, we shut the doors and I begin to polish the silverware and glasses. Before I can sit down for breakfast, all cutlery must be polished.
I allow myself no more than 15 minutes for breakfast – a quick, scarf-it-down kind of thing – before I slip downstairs, grab my bucket of cleaning supplies and change into a white polo for cabin cleaning. I have 11 cabins: 6 guest cabins and 5 staff cabins. I go to the 100 level to get a few mesh bags and a stash of cleaning rags. On my way to my cabins, I also grab a vacuum. I begin with the staff cabins; they are easier because I don’t have to make the beds. I pull on a pair of latex gloves (one pair per cabin) and spray the bathroom (the “head”) with a disinfectant. With my cleaning rag, I wipe down the counters and mirror. I clean the toilet with a scrubby brush. I spray another disinfectant on the head floor and wipe that last. After I put my dirty rag into a mesh bag, I put my gloves into the trash and then empty that. Lastly, I vacuum.
After the staff cabins are finished, I remove myself upstairs to the guest cabins. In each, I make the beds – a difficult task on its own, for each is in a bedbox that is all together too small for the mattress. I make sure that the top sheet (we triple sheet) is straight, that the pillows are fluffed, the blue fleece blanket is tucked in at the foot of the bed, and the decorative pillow is placed in front of the bed pillows. If someone peed the bed, pooped the bed, or somehow otherwise stained the bed, I must remake it completely. Once that is done, I begin to clean the head. I wipe the counters, wipe the mirror, clean the toilet, then lift up the heavy teak grate and wipe under it, making sure to get all stray hairs (pubic and non), potential pieces of poop that have made their way to the floor and anything else that doesn’t belong. Lastly, I check the tampon box for any trash and pull the bag out if there is any. I pull my gloves off, pull the trash bag out, tie it up and set it outside the door. If the guests have left their towels on the floor, I must replace them, so I trek back up to the hundred level (two flights of stairs) to the fall stack – our linen storage. I grab the necessary towels and head back down. Along the way, I might get waylaid by a guest wanting to know anything under the sun. If I can help, I do; if not, I point them in the right direction and go on my merry way. Once the towels are folded back up and hung in the right spot, I vacuum. Right before I shut the door, I spray in air freshener. Then, I move on to the next room. Odds are, if one cabin wanted fresh towels, the others will too and I will make the trek up and down several times. If I grab extra towels at the beginning, odds are I will return all of them to the stack.
Once my cabins are done, usually around 11am, I am done until 3pm. I get to eat my lunch with the rest of the crew at 11:30, do my daily crossword, and then maybe take a nap. If we are doing ops that day – kayaking, cruising, or hiking, I may try to get in on that – if I have time. I must be dressed in my blue polo and khakis at 3 for a afternoon of odds and ends. I vacuum the dining room (guest lunch typically ends around 1:30), fold breakfast napkins, make sure the lounge has coffee and enough cups (I will end up making ten runs in and out with dishes to wash and polish), and do a phase work. This can be anything from bleaching the ceramic coffee cups to detailing vacuums or coffee machines. At 4pm, I set out fresh coffee. At 5pm, I sit down for crew dinner – another 15 minute meal – and then go back to the foc’sle to change for guest dinner. That’s another walk through the lounge in which i must be smiling and cheery. I must also be invisible; I can’t draw attention to what I’m doing.
At 5:45, I’m in the dining room setting the beverage station up and breaking down crew dinner. I degrease the hot side of the buffet and put the lids back on it for the pantry chef to set his salads on. At 6:30, we turn down cabins. We lower the shades, turn on the reading lights, refresh towels (another trek up and down), and collect glasses to return to the galley for cleaning. When I am done with that, I go back to the dining room to fill water glasses. At 7pm, we open the doors. Guests file in, picking tables based on what they can see outside (ok, people: it’s a ship. We will move. And if we are anchored, we’re circling around the anchor, so what you see will *move*). Once my tables are full, I begin to wine them. I ask several times if I may interrupt their conversations, get several annoyed glares in response, and forge ahead anyway. I offer our featured wines, nod when they select something different, dutifully answer the question, “what are we having for dinner,” as if the menu has not been posted outside the dining room since before they went to bed the night before. I fill wine glasses, remove them from places where people do not want wine, get lemonades or teas, beers from the bar. Then I take them their soup or salad. I don’t take an order – I just bring it. Chances are, I have several special diets at one table, or someone that doesn’t like salad/soup/mushrooms. Once they have a first course, I take a dinner order. They’re always still talking, glaring at me when I smile and ask if I can let them know the entrees for the evening. They say, “but I signed up already!” I reply, “the sign up sheet only lets our chef know an approximation of the amount of people that want halibut/salmon/beef/lamb; I don’t know what you’ve signed up for.” they sigh and – even though I start out with, “I’ll start with the ladies,” – a man jumps in and orders for him and for his wife, or his wife will order and then say, “and he wants __.” Yes, ma’am.
I make sure I’ve got the right orders, total it up, slide it under the galley window and then go on to the next table. They’ve already got their wine, so I drop the first course and take a dinner order. Then I do my third table, who is usually annoyed that they are the last of my tables to get soup/salad and make up for it by being extra frustrating. After all of my tables have soup or salad, I walk around with a water pitcher and refill water. Typically, it’s time to clear the first table by that time, so I take my tray and clear from the right – soup bowl, plate, and spoon. I check bread and butter too, so I can bring more over. When I take my tray into the galley, I say “fire 6,” and they reply, “6!” so I know that they’ve heard me and my table’s food will begin to be made. I return to the dining room, making sure my tables have water, enough wine, etc.
The galley window opens just enough to push through plates. they are lined up in seating positions 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 in two rows. The table lead (whoever has that table) read through the order sheet, making sure each is right, then reads off the ladies positions. They pick up 1 and 2, the next person picks up plate 3 and 4, and so on. We surround the table, and then set down the plates, one at a time, in military style service. The ladies are served first, from the left. People ooh and aah over it. The table leads asks if there is anything else they can bring, but the guests are to busy going back to their previous conversations to care. A minute later, they’ll wave the steward back over.
My table comes up, and I pull plates 1 and 2, 7 and 8 from the window. I read over the orders, let my fellow stews know the positions of the ladies, and pick up 1 and 2. I lead the way to the table, allowing the stew holding plates 7 and 8 to go in ahead of me. When I reach the table, I look at each of the others and set down a plate from the left. I switch the plate from my right hand into my left and set it down in front of the second person. I glance to make sure everyone is happy, say “enjoy your meal,” and leave. I may send the senior steward over to the table to see if they need more wine, more water; meanwhile, I will help the rest of the stews get their plates out. When the last table has their food, I walk through with a water pitcher.
When the last person at the table has finished their meal, then and only then can I go over and begin to clear. It usually takes two people to clear a table, so we tag team each table and get them back to the galley before we offer tea and coffee to our tables. We always have a featured dessert and a featured after-dinner drink, but we also offer ice cream, sorbet or fruit. I take the orders, run coffees and desserts and then – when I can – I take a five minute break and collapse on to the settee in the crew lounge. I might go outside to the fantail for a moment, take in the fresh air, and then go sit down, but I always sit. When I come back to the dining room, I help to clear, offer more coffee and then step into the galley to begin polishing. With 60 guests, polishing takes at least 45 minutes – that’s all the glasses and silverware that they used from the time cocktail hour started through dinner service. After the last guest has left the dining room, I can open the galley window and push out the polishing for my co-stews to help. We aren’t done until 9:15, but then I set the buffet up for the next morning.
By 9:30, I am changed and have a glass of wine in my hand. I take my computer or book back to the dining room where I sit with my friends until midnight – 11 if I’m feeling tired. we might play a game, we might just talk. When I make that last walk through the lounge to the foc’sle door, I’m still smiling at the late night guests (there usually aren’t any, though). I slip my flip flops off, take my contacts out, brush my teeth and crawl into my bed. It’s usually lights out the minute my head hits the pillow and I get maybe 6 hours of sleep before I wake up and do it all over again.
disclaimer: I DO love my job. I enjoy every minute that I’m breathing in the fresh Alaskan air, sunning myself on the lido deck with a book, or sitting atop a zod with my friends at Glacier Bay laughing and dancing. It can be challenging at times, it can be frustrating at times, but a majority of the time, it’s pretty freaking awesome.
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