Joke

"Did you know that you can get just as drunk on water ... as you can on land?"

Joke from last night's comedy set that struck my fancy.

What do you do as a cruise ship librarian?

Well, the usual duties of a typical librarian, plus some. I check out and return books. I shelve. Tidy up the room. Unlock the games drawers. I also have to fold newspapers, put out daily quizzes and Sudokus, lead book club, head Service meet-ups, check out art tours, help tendering at ports that require it.

To describe a few of the last items:

Obviously there is no way for the ship to receive newspapers at sea, but certainly passengers (and curious librarians) still want word of the outside world, so the ship has a deal with the NY Times and the Canadian to get newspaper digests. Every morning the ship prints out newspaper digest (NYTimes’ is 8 pages; the Canadian, 4) on paper larger than legal size. I arrive at the library at 7:45 to assemble these papers – folding them and putting them out for the 8 am library opening. Usually papers disappear entirely by 10 am. They can be found in a few more spots (Front Desk, Lido Restaurant) but obviously the library is a hot spot for the news. Passengers also have the option to read the NYTimes online for free – one of the few free websites they can access.

Daily trivia quizzes and Sudokus are extremely popular. At 8 am on the dot I put them out. Those who complete the quizzes and submit them to me by 3 pm have the possibility of winning a prize – a cruise line pin. The Sudokus are simply out for fun. For those who wish for crossword puzzles need to look in the NYTimes digest, or fill out our NYTimes crossword tables with a magic marker.

For cruises 14 days or longer, the librarian leads a bookclub. The book is chosen with the destination in mind. We are currently reading “Honolulu” by Alan Brennert.  I have had a good fifteen attendees at the past discussions.

Service clubs, i.e. Elks, Lions, Rotary, etc. require that their members attend weekly meetings and they can get in trouble if they miss any. Since obviously service members tend to be older like our passengers, we mark their attendance with a form that they can take back to their meetings as proof that they ‘attended’ one despite their absence.

We also have a few iPods that guests can check out. The cruise ship is decorated with rather lovely pieces of art, autographed guitars and memorabilia, and the iPod has a narrated art tour. It also has a tour stored on Glaciar Bay for the Alaskan cruise. Sadly a few iPods were apparently stolen a few cruises ago so locked drawers are a must – which mean passengers can only check them out when I am at the desk.

This last one I just experienced for the first time yesterday. Most ports we can pull up straight to the dock. But today, because of shallow waters, the cruise ship had to park offshore. “Tendering” is basically a water shuttle from the ship to shore and back again. When you’re unloading 1000+ people, that can get complicated. Guests are directed to convene in a certain room. Those going on an excursion must meet as a specified time, and are sent onshore appropriately. If they fail to show up on time, they are likely to miss their tour. Those not going on an excursion but simply want to head to land separately are given a number so we can stagger the lines. Unfortunately this required me to be at a meeting at 6:30 am….and close the library at 10 pm. Usually my schedule on port days are 7:45 am – 11:30 am and then 7 pm – 10 pm. Sea days are rougher. 7:45 am – 11:30 am, 1:30 pm – 5:30 pm, 7 pm – 10 pm. And then so the day doesn’t feel like it was only work, I stay up chatting (and drinking) with people until 1 or 2 in the morning. Naps are the only way to survive, absolutely. But there is no commute and it is pretty simple throwing on my orange polo and navy pants on the morning (afternoon and evening guests see me with polished makeup. Morning guests are lucky to get me with my eyes open, as I am still sipping tea to speed up the wakeup process.)

‘Course I am still only just past my first week so there may be more duties I am ‘requested’ to fulfill. But that’s my usual day as a shipboard librarian...

First Day!

Not even has a week gone by and yet I feel like I have experienced a month’s worth of adventure.  This blog was started with the intent of recording every moment of shipboard life, of being a ‘water librarian’ - as coined by a passenger this morning -- but that’s not looking very likely. My day is extremely full, opening the library doors (metaphorically, the library venue is open 24 hours but books/games/etc. are locked before/after specified times) at 8 am but arriving at my desk 15 minutes earlier to prepare the daily quiz/sudoku and opening the metal gates that encase the books at night,  and closing the place at 10 pm. Don’t worry, I am recording things, moments, incidents and observations in a print journal. But I may fail to transfer those to the blog. So please feel free to ask questions about what it is like to live on a cruise ship, work on a cruise ship, work as a cruise ship librarian, and that may prompt a post.

Because this is a week later I shall skip the hours that preceded embarkation besides saying that thank goodness Z_____ flew me out to the port city the day prior. Between buses to airports and flights with stops, I traveled a good 12 hours, and arrived sleep-deprived and in desperate need of a shower. Due to coincidence my father was also in town for a convention so he picked me up from the airport and we checked in first to my hotel, reserved by the cruise line, and then to his, where I would actually stay (better location for downtown exploration.) Stress, travel and lack of sleep played havoc on my immune system tho, leaving me feverish, sneezing, and with a hoarse throat/voice – the very way you hope not to feel with a new job. Morning of the new job I was feeling a tad better internally but externally was a bit of a mess.

Z_____ never actually told me when I needed to arrive to the port, besides the date. With no idea of what time I was required to show up (did I need to be there at 7 am, or would 3 pm suffice?) I parted with my father at 10 am, passing through security at the San Diego port and stepped onboard.

A sheer whirlwind of activity quickly followed. The HR director was summoned. His wife, who had moonlighted as the librarian for the past 2 weeks due to the previous librarian moving to a different ship, and who would be training me in my position was also alerted. She, (“Y”) took me to my room; a remarkably small room, that I was sharing with one of the Youth Services staff. The previous co-occupant, sister to her roommate, was still in the process of packing so we left my bags there and proceeded through the ship.

“Port and left have four letters. That’s an easy way to remember the two.” “Never take the passenger elevators. You can take the crew elevators in the crew area, and either crew or passenger stairs.” “Passengers have lifeboats. Crew, liferafts.” “You eat at the Lido restaurant on either side for breakfast and lunch but only on the port side for dinner.” It was soon 11 am. Y led me to the library, to open it for the new cruise.

First impressions: the library was lovely. The venue fits the ship well, and is centrally located, both vertically and horizontally. As I had noticed with all the other floors and spaces, the cruise manages to form rooms and nooks and cranneys in its rather open floor plan. You see everything but also feel like you’re distinctively in the casino, or the Explorer’s Lounge, or anything other place. I suppose I am not describing it well. One is definitively in the library, but from my desk I see the café, can hear morning church services from the neighboring conference room, and later in the day, the bells and whistles of the casino. The library is three ‘rooms’ that spaciously flow into one another. The front ‘room’ is where my desk is, large comfy chairs angled to look out the windows, the cases of games, majority of the library computers available to guests for Internet access, and shelves of “Leisure”, “Travel” and “Best Sellers.” The second room is the puzzle room, and shelves of “Large Print”, “Foreign Language” and Fiction…and is in serious need of additional light. The back features a chess set, a few more computers and desk areas, “History”, “Science”, “Classics” and “Reference”. Also in the back room is a framed photo of Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, the ship’s godmothers, who christened the ship on its first voyage.

That first day, despite being only a ‘half day’ due to guests not arriving until noontime, was long and hard. The passengers swarmed the library, trying to get the new and popular books first. A 2 book checkout policy was in place in anticipation of that. They all had internet questions (how do I log on? How much is the internet plan?), and were redirected to G, the Internet Manager, who sits next to me but whose desk positions his back to inquiring guests and thus makes him seem far less accessible than the Librarian. When we took our dinner break Y led me up to the 8 floor Lido. My father texted me that he was standing on the port watching the ship pull away, and I could faintly tell his figure from the distance. The ship pulled away and every so soon the lights of SD disappeared.

After the library closed, 10 pm, I took a seasickness pill before retiring to bed, the waves inciting one of the few instances of seasickness I have ever had. I had hoped to celebrate my departure with a beer in the OB (Officer’s Bar) but instead, tired, flu-sick and water-offbalanced, I crawled into my top bunk and promptly fell asleep.

‘Twas my first day… more coming soon.

From city to country to sea

You could say I move in extremes. Less than two years ago I lived in a metropolitan city founded in 1622, the library grad school I attended was shouting distance of the Green Monster and from my bedroom one could hear the automated subway announcers reminding riders to grab their belongings. A few years before that I was overseas in a country whose alphabet I could barely piece together, much less than speak the language. The only Western foreigner living in my town -- or so it seemed. Red neon crosses lit up the skyline at night, most sixth grade students study until 2 am every day, and a 45 minute cab ride from the heart of downtown to my high-rise in the suburbs cost approximately 14 dollars.

I am about to close the chapter on yet another variant landscape: the Midwest countryside. Every morning, on my way to work, I drove by a farm with the sweet-looking cows, whose brown and grayish and cream-color hides look so soft and velvety that I am always tempted to stop and pet them. One cow was scratching an itch on her face with the green metal fence just this morning and if I had not been in a rush I may have stopped and helped her out. Past that farm is a house where I once spotted three chickens attempting to cross the road. Lumbering semis drive the same road as I do to work. I pass them and am occasionally treated to the sight of pink snouts poking out. And then there’s the farmer next-door to the college who takes perverse pleasure in applying manure on his field on the hottest of days.

My favorite part of my commute: there is this one spot of country road that is the slightest hint higher than the rest of the land, which treats me to a sight of golden morning fog, a pink sun and miles and miles of cornfields. I refuse to take a picture of it, knowing that it will never compete with my mental picture. 

I am ready to move. I keep that in mind with each packing-inspired panic attack. “Change is the only constant.” But with tomorrow as my last day in this town, there will be things I miss. The local bar where everyone knows either my name or my job. (“Hey Librarian!”) My little green car – bought new a year and a half ago and now with almost 25,000 miles on – in storage for the next six months. Learning how to drive in snow. The backyard creek, with squirrels and rabbits and screech owls. Autumn motorcycle rides. The Crooked House, host to two Thanksgivings, backyard bonfires, snow day hibernations, and even a bit of heartbreak.

One more day. Then off to San Diego, the Pacific, and then soon (oh so soon! Saturday!) miles and miles of blue ocean.
            

Medical Exam

New crewmembers are required to undergo full medical exams before coming abroad. These exams, nicknamed PEMEs (Pre-employment medical exam's), are extensive.  Not only is your usual physical exam required but the following are as well:

• Chest x-ray, PA view only
• CBC (complete blood count)
• Metabolic chemistry results (Na, K, Cl, BUN, Cr, Fasting Blood Sugar, AST, ALT)
• Hemoglobin A1c, is required if crewmember is Diabetic
• Urinalysis, dip
• Blood type
• CD4 results if HIV + (results must be done within past 6 months)
• Hepatitis B Surface Antigen (HBsAg)
• Hepatiis A – proof of immunity is recommended for Food Handlers (Hep A IGG + of Vaccination)
• Syphilis Test – RPR, VDRL, or TPHAUrine drug screen (Amphetamine, Cocaine, Marijuana, Opiates & PCP)
• ECG, if age is equal to or greater than 40 years
• Copy of personal immunization records (if available)

The need for a chest x-ray seemed excessive until I was told that chest x-rays test for tuberculosis -- one of those diseases most Americans encounter in stories, than in real life (in my mind). Extensive drug test -- that is to be expected. All the rest, well, okay.

Uniform

I ordered my shipboard uniform the other day. Too bad orange isn't my color.

Polos, cardigans, wrapped dress, scarf, and so forth. Orange and navy are the company colors. They pay for the uniform plus laundering.

I do have to bring my own formal dresses but thank goodness I am not male and thus required to bring a tux. How many guys my age own their own tuxedo, you think? None, me thinks.

My ordered uniform won't be delivered to the ship for a good 3 or 4 weeks so I presume I will pick up some spare bits onboard. It sure is hard to identify what size shirt or cardigan one needs without trying them on. But I basically ordered mediums across the board and if my lent medium-sized garments prove too big, well, I suppose I can modify my order. That shouldn't be too hard, or unexpected. Z____ lines does have 600+ employees (or not, I am just guessing.) Someone else must have encountered this issue before.

Ship-out date is quickly approaching. Still getting last-minute tasks done -- scheduling medical exams that include chest x-rays for TB testing, donating large pieces of furniture to the local Salvation Army, etc. Getting it done, getting it done.

Packing List

How on earth does one pack for six months with only one carry-on bag and one personal item per passenger? Especially if this is what they say....

Pack as if you are going on a trip for about two weeks. Bring enough toiletries and clothing for that time period. Also, consider the region where your ship will be sailing. For example  if the ship is sailing in Alaska, you may want to bring a few items of warm clothing. [Me: But what if you're sailing to both Hawaii and Alaska. You have to pack for both warm and cold weather...hard with limited suitcase space.] Remember, for the most part you will receive your uniform when you arrive onboard. However, you will need to bring your own shoes for work. 

Pack lightly! Cabins are small [and apparently I will be sharing a room. Haven't done that since college.] and too many personal items only get in the way. The following checklist will help you decide what to bring: 

Documents (Carry On)

• Contract Passport (valid for entire contract)
• Flight ticket/information
• Medical exam records
• Seaman's Book
• Emergency phone numbers
• Port Agent name and number
• Wallet/Cash/Credit cards/ATM cards
• Copies of important documents 

Uniform (all provided by Z_____, except for shoes)

• Closed black or navy shoes
• Formal black shoes (all itineraries)
• 3 white blouses (females)
• 3 white nice button shirts (males)
• 1 tuxedo shirt (males)
• 1 black bow tie (males, females)
• Neutral, navy and black hose (females)
• White, navy & black socks (males)

Toiletries

• Deodorant
• Razors, shaving cream
• Lotion
• Make-up
• Feminine products
• Toothbrush
• Dental Floss
• Shampoo/Conditioner
• Sunscreen
• Lip balm
• Nail care supplies
• Vitamins
• First-aid kid/bandaids
• Hand sanitizer
• Allergy pills
• Contraceptives

Personal Clothing

• Jeans
• Shorts
• Sweatshirt/sweater
• Jacket/fleece
• Shirts
• Swimsuit
• Sports shoes
• Underwear
• Pajamas/sleepwear
• Socks
• Belt
• Hat
• Formal attire for special occasions

Other

• Prescription medication (enough for entire contract)
• Hair dryer (110/22)
• Camera & charger
• iPod/iPad & charger
• Cell phone & charger
• Laptop & charger
• Travel alarm clock
• Flashlight
• Extra batteries
• Sunglasses
• Prescription glasses or contact lenses
• Books for reading
• Photos/pictures to personalize your cabin
• Address book
• Umbrella
• Luggage tags
• Important numbers

Actually, now looking at the list piece by piece, it is far less intimidating. I was going to pack all of those things anyways, and most of the toiletries I will pick up in San Diego right before boarding to avoid airport liquid restrictions. I need to be more selective with my personal clothing and unpack a bunch, and my camera is unavoidably large, but my phone, laptop and iPad charger are basically all the same thing. This is one of the few times that owning more eBooks would be useful but c'est la vie. I have an umbrella but do I really need it? Not as much as that extra book, summer dress, or workout clothes...

"They have libraries on cruise boats?"

I wish I could take a picture or video of people’s faces when I tell them I have been hired to be a cruise ship librarian. Guffaws seem to be the commonality. A tad of disbelief. “They have libraries on cruise boats?”

Yup. Or at least they better, given I have just been hired as a Librarian for Z_______ Cruise Line.

As am I sure you can guess, “Z_____” has no relevance to the actual name of my new employer. In this blog I plan on sharing allllllll about working on a cruise boat --- the good, the funny, and yes, the bad. And I bet these guys wouldn’t be very happy with me revealing that side. After all they are making me take out my nose piercing and wear a uniform; they are trying to present a uniformly pleasant experience for their paying passengers. I don’t wish to disrupt that. I believe wholeheartedly in good customer service, and I recognize that our guests pay a sizable amount of money to sail the seven seas. But still, one has to disclose the backstage reality, especially since a lot of people will be envious and want this job. I want to share the whole truth of what it is like to work as a shipboard librarian.

But as many people follow their “whaaaa?” with “What do you do as a cruise librarian?” and “What is it like to live on a cruise boat?”, I hope to answer those questions soon. I honestly don’t know. I know what they told me during my phone interviews and what I secretly imagine -- a mix of Dirty Dancing, with all the employees drinking and smoking and dancing together after hours, and a old timey British glamour. Hopefully my expectations aren’t too shattered.

I have already shared with a number of people, friends and family, that I intend to write this blog so I better do it. And I should probably start now with the buildup to the departure but jeez louise I am busy getting from here to there. 3 ½ weeks is not very much time to change jobs. It is really not very much time when the new job in another state. Now add the fact that it is on a cruise boat, you have to end your lease ahead of schedule -- which requires negotiating with the landlords, figure out what to do with your 1 ½ year-old car, sell/dispose/store most of your belongings, and most of this is occurring during the Christmas break when offices are closed AND you are celebrating 11 days of the holidays at your folks’ place in another state....no wonder I am having panic attacks/crying jags every evening. I know my possessions are just stuff. Things. But still, it is both emotionally draining and physically difficult to get everything done in time. Plus Z_____ is making me jump through some serious hoops even before I get onboard. I need to order my uniform (which is paid by the cruise line and is laundered for free on board.) Gotta get a full medical exam (which costs a week’s pay, which doesn’t make me particularly happy) that includes undergoing a chest x-ray and drug test. Email numerous people copies of health and dental exams, passports, take digital pictures for presumably a ship facebook, etc. etc.

But I WILL GET IT DONE! Every time I start to panic, I repeat to myself:

“We can
Each of us
Do the impossible
As long as we can convince ourselves
That it has been done before.”
-Octavia E. Butler, “Parable of the Sower”

I have moved quickly before. I have moved overseas before. Others have become shipboard librarians. It can be done. Breathe.