Day Four put us back on the high seas, heading south towards Portugal. As things were warming up a bit (although it was still very brisk out), my son got the two older boys to join the youngest in the pool and adventuring down the triple threat slide. The oldest became a life raft for the youngest, whose swimming lessons seem to have faded from memory from disuse. It was great to see them out in the (subdued) sun, and enjoying the water and the amenities of the ship. The youngest grandson had become a daily visitor in the afternoons to a kiddy pool, enclosed in glass and safe from the winds of the big people’s pool. At first I was told he was too old to be in the pool, but since he was the only that had been using it, I aksed where he could go since the big pool was over five feet deep. The staff person came back and said it was fine. He made many pals in that pool, including one from England that was name Oscar (pronounced AH/Skah). My grandson reported, “He sort of speaks English but he can’t quite pronounce it properly.”  I told my grandson that Oscar WAS using English properly, it was us Americans that were changing the pronunciation! The boys exchanged emails, addresses, and agreed to keep in touch. They got along so beautifully, and Oscar’s entire family was so good-natured and enjoyable, I hated to say good bye to them when we left.

A New Friend and New Toys

My youngest grandson, since meeting Oscar, decided to abstain from the Kids Club as Oscar did. This was a loss for me, too, because it meant I could no longer get to the gym in the early morning when it was tolerable. Between swimming sessions, he was somewhat uncertain how to spend his time. We headed down to the ship’s gift shop and he happily chose a set of little plastic knights and horses, a very good investment since the two small toys I brought with me were totally inadequate after a few days. After that, he brought his little carton of knights to dinner and to his nightly bath, content to be in the presence of toys that allowed for creative play. The two hour dinners were a bit taxing for the boys, but the older boys tended to look downward and play with their iToys, leaving the little guy stranded in a world of chattering adults.

Another important event took place around this time, but it was one the boys and I missed. Some of the adults saw dolphins swimming and diving near the ship! I was sad that I missed it, but it is a sight I had witnessed when I lived on the beach of Ventura, California – the bike path there allowed us to witness pairs of dolphins swimming by in the early mornings two at a time. It was always breathtaking and a reminder of the unseen, glorious life that is all around us!

I was really looking forward hopefully to the dinner hour, since the salad bar was getting pretty routine. Last night’s lovely burrito was positively inspired, so I felt we were on an upward trajectory when it came to vegan cuisine.  But tonight’s offering was to prove a bit disappointing, although quite acceptable. It was a rice dish with curried carrots, peas and pineapple. It was good, but not on the caliber of the previous entree. However, it was topped off by a new experiment: a pineapple sorbet that seemed to be blended frozen pineapple. It was greatly appreciated and quite lovely once it thawed enough to get a spoon into it.

The Challenge of Dining as the Lone Vegan

One of the difficulties of being with non vegans for every meal was in witnessing how carelessly, how callously most of us select what we put into our bodies. There is no concern for the costs in this unseen process of food procurement. The attitude of most of my fellow travelers was to try anything they could and be adventurous gourmets. It was not a time to think about ethics, or sustainability — this was a long awaited vacation after all.  At times I felt like a chronic pain, like a small nagging toothache that killed the joy of the moment, just by sitting there eating my vegan food. Unlike Ky, whose choice was religious, mine was ethical and therefore much more suspect, one that apparently required more self-defense. I recall having a few angry words with The One Who Liked to Taunt Vegans, but do not recall the exact circumstances. I do not consider the lives of animals to be worthy of contempt, I grew tired of the bullying, and it stopped. But it definitely did not make me a more popular member of the Gang of Twelve. I heard someone mention that they would eat anything, spoken in derision of those of us on special diets. I, too, will eat most anything, but not anyONE. That distinction seemed to be lost on most of the non vegans surrounding me. But I was nonetheless grateful to be part of the family, enjoying a common adventure if through disparate perspectives.