In the weeks and months leading
up to an elaborate vacation, I build visual models in my mind. Before this cruise, I imagined a virtual state
room, various parts of the ship, the ports of call, and more. Some of this
modeling was based on research and previous experience. The rest, I probably acquired from the same image store I shop at for my nocturnal dreams:

What can I get for you today, Mr. Sturgeon?

For my upcoming cruise, I need visions of typical Jamaican city streets, and don’t skimp on the olfactory sensations—need to keep it real, mon. I also need a cruise ship swimming pool, and a few hundred extras,
preferably good-looking ones, but I’ll take whatever you have in inventory.

And for tonight’s dreams, I need images of my father morphing into a grizzly bear and chasing me through the woods. Oh, and you might as well give me a replica of my 8th
grade classroom so I can realize in the middle of my math exam that I
am not wearing pants. 

That’s all?

Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be back for more.

Inevitably, when these
vacations begin, my newly formed memories overwrite the models I
constructed in my mind. The visions I spent so much time cultivating always disappear, except that one time I made a conscious effort to remember them, just as an experiment. The actual overwhelms
the anticipated, forever erasing these abstractions from the hard drive of my mind.

I’m certain that my brain
isn’t the only one that works this way. Right?

Please tell me I’m right.

First stop – CocoCay, Bahamas

At some ports of call,
the cruise ship ties up to a dock, and passengers walk onto shore. This was not
the case at CocoCay. Everyone going ashore had to board a tender boat, which
shuttled passengers from the cruise ship to the island. I decided to use my
iBot wheelchair on CocoCay, because I knew there would be a lot of sand to
navigate, and the iBot is the only wheelchair I have which can operate on sand.

We had reserved a
cabana on CocoCay. This would give the six of us a private spot with some shade
for the day. Tom and Diane, early risers that they are, took the first tender
to shore and claimed our cabana. Somehow Andy and I became separated from Kim
and Karen, and we each took separate tenders. Ship personnel arranged it so
that I got on the tender last and got off it first, which suited me fine. Below is a photo Tom took as my tender approached, and a zoom of the same photo. Note that Andy and I are on the open deck, and all the other passengers are stuffed into a lower or
upper compartment. I liked my spot.

As soon as I disembarked from the tender and headed for the cabana, an employee intervened to inform me that
power wheelchairs can’t operate on sand. I politely told him to stand aside and
watch. I left my signature all over the island.

We had a wonderful day
on CocoCay, and on our voyage back to the ship Andy went out of his way to again stand with me on the deck of the tender. I suggested that his gesture was 20%
brotherly love and 80% personal comfort. He didn’t deny it. Traveling with me
isn’t all bad.

To be continued…

For part one, click here.

For part three, click here.

More pictures from CocoCay: