.nice.

Philipsburg, St. Maarten. These ports are littered with tourist shops selling cheap t-shirts and expensive jewelry, duty-free liquor and Cuban cigars. Still, depending on the atmosphere, they can be good for a quick bite, a beer or two (or three…) and free internet, conditions depending.
I’ve never seen water this blue, not even in the Mexican Riviera. I can officially see why Jimmy Buffett does what he does. Hell, I’d play “Cheesburger in Paradise” everyday for the rest of my life if I can wake up every morning to see something this…nice.
That’s the funny thing about terminology with people working on a cruse ship. Sober and standing straight, when talking about a certain port, someone is prone to gush about scenery, food, drink, atmosphere…but when subdued by a few hours in a crew bar, more in line with the spirit of the working crew on a floating hotel/casino/theater, the word “nice” takes on a vast new meaning. It’s more than just a simple, placating word. All things considered I’m still new to this job (just over three months total with Holland), but I think “nice” is a valuable word. I’d be honored if someone said I was a “nice” player; I’d be excited if someone told me that an upcoming port was “nice,” especially if they didn’t hold on too long to the “sss” sound at the end of the word (and indicator of sincerity, no joke). “Nice” isn’t “fantastic,” isn’t “surreal” or “unbelievable.” Bombastic adjectives are for newbies, for the uninitiated and the inexperienced who don’t know what it’s like to come back to the same place over and over again. “Nice” makes you sound like you know what you’re doing, that you’re not prone to being so quickly sold to bright lights and colorful signs. That’s the funny thing about working on a cruise ship: it’s not just a job, it’s a lifestyle. Some people do this for a short time to make money, experience something different and see cool shit (like me). Others make an entire career out of working on a ship, who can name all the ships in a fleet because they’ve worked on most of them.
At that point, it becomes a matter of familiarity with the way things go. I think I’m getting the hang of it. Inevitably, it’s a glorious position. People pay thousands of dollars a cruise to see these places, and we get to see them for free. Nay, we get paid to see these places (well…we work…sort of…). So, while passengers struggle to take everything in all within a matter of hours in a given day, cruise ship crew get to slowly relax into the area, to drink it all in with slow sips of each area over a contract/itinerary.
True, they’re not completely revealing of the culture of a given area, but it’s as close as we can possibly get given the circumstances. Living in a house or an apartment somewhere else, buying groceries, sleeping nights in one of these ports lead you to experiencing what it’s like to live somewhere else, somewhere you’re not accustomed to, possibly reluctant to experience. Regardless, we get to experience what it’s like to see a world outside our own for months at a time. Even if it’s just a resort with readily available booze and food, it’s a taste of something different to living back at home, shoveling snow off a car, going though motions that lead to monotonous moments.
I’m happy I’m here. It’s nice.