After four consecutive days of visiting magnificent ports of call, we were looking forward to a full day at sea, just us and our faithful ship (and the other 3,800 passengers and 1,400 crew). Kim had been eyeing that rock climbing wall all week, and conquered it on Saturday.

By the end of any vacation week, I’m always ready to go home. I come to miss my simple life with all its little routines, all the familiar people, and all my own “stuff.” But this vacation was different.  I didn’t want it to end. 

Saturday was difficult because we were saying goodbye to all the friends we met, all the wonderful staff who had taken such great care of us, and the incredible ship itself. We were also saying goodbye to cruise Kim and Mitch. We liked cruise Kim and Mitch. They were such a cool, happy couple.

There was a party atmosphere on the Freedom of the Seas that Saturday night, and we joined in. We were determined to squeeze every ounce out of our dream vacation.

that’s Cuba just over the horizon, honest

farewell stage show

last dinner – world’s best waitress Marianna

For the first time that week, we arranged for a wake-up call the next morning. We needed to be ready to leave the ship by 7:30 a.m. on Sunday, according to the cruise schedule. We contemplated hiding somewhere on the ship, so we could be stowaways on the next cruise, but we feared that my iBOT might give us away.

We enjoyed one last buffet breakfast on Sunday, and then departed the ship on time. At the baggage claim area in the terminal we loaded up the manual wheelchair with our bags and headed out for the buses that were waiting to transport us to the Orlando airport. We had plenty of time. Our flight wasn’t leaving until 3:30 in the afternoon. Weeks earlier I had prepaid for our transportation from the ship dock to the airport, and I had let them know that my bus would need to be wheelchair accessible. I was told that it would not be a problem.

last buffet breakfast

This is when things started to break down. Nothing much went right on our journey home, but I was unbothered by all of it. For months I had worried that something would go wrong on the trip to the ship. A bad trip from the ship back home was of little concern to me. But that’s exactly what we got — a bad trip home.

The first problem was that the person in charge of the buses didn’t have my name on their list. I convinced him that this was an error. Second, since they didn’t expect me in the first place they definitely had not taken my wheelchair into consideration. Eventually they found an accessible bus, and sat us on it for a couple of hours before filling it with other passengers.

About an hour into that two hour wait, I had to empty my bladder. The wheelchair space was mid-bus, and the bathroom was in the rear. I stood up and held on the seat tops and the overhead bins. Kim moved one of my legs at a time until I reached the bathroom. When I came out of the bathroom I plopped down in the nearest seat, and just stayed there until we arrived in Orlando. We then did the dance down the aisle again to get me back to my wheelchair (after everyone else had already departed the bus).

We arrived at the Orlando airport in plenty of time for lunch, and checked in three hours ahead of our flight, or so we thought. There were thunderstorms in Chicago, so our departure was delayed from 3:30 to 5:30. Kim worried that we would miss our connection in Chicago, but I’ve travelled enough to know that if incoming flights are delayed due to weather, then outgoing flights are almost certainly delayed at least that same amount.

When we landed in Chicago we found out that our connecting flight had indeed been delayed by two hours. Therefore, we would still have the planned layover, but we’d leave O’Hare at 9:30 p.m. instead of 7:30. 9:30 came and went- so did 10:30 and 11:30. Finally, wheels were up at about 12:30 a.m. local time. No problem. The 7 hours we spent in O’Hare helped us shed that nagging feeling that we didn’t really want to go home. After all those travel delays, we couldn’t wait to go home.

The flight from Chicago to Maine was uneventful. As usual, my iBOT made the round trip without a scratch or dent. We pulled out of the Portland Jetport (not a mere airport, mind you) in our own mini-van and headed for home at 3:30 in the morning- long day.

For Kim and I, this vacation was everything that we hoped it would be. In fact, I’m cutting up my previous Visa rewards credit card (there are not that many items at Cabela’s that I can take advantage of anymore), and we now buy everything with our Royal Caribbean credit card. We’ll get free stuff on our next cruise. Yes, we’re hoping there will be a next cruise.

This was an ideal vacation for a wheelchair user. The accessibility on these large, modern cruise ships is as good as it gets. The ports of call leave something to be desired regarding accessibility, but if you have modest expectations then you are not disappointed. It is my understanding that the Eastern Caribbean islands have better wheelchair accessibility than the Western Caribbean islands, where we went. But that itinerary just wasn’t available to us on the ship we wanted, on the week we wanted. Maybe our next cruise will be to the Eastern Caribbean.

I’d like to recommend two resources that worked well for me. First, Candy Harrington’s books on travel for wheelchair users and slow walkers are fantastic. She also maintains a blog for more current information.

I used a travel agency out of Kansas City which specializes in cruises for disabled passengers. Jeanie was very helpful and a joy to work with. She responded promptly to all of my questions, and guided me through the entire process. Working with someone who understands your unique needs is invaluable. They can be reached at: Snail’s Pace Special Travel Services

If anyone has any questions for me about cruising in general or more specifically about cruising in a wheelchair, I’ll be glad to tell you what I know. Just click on the email button on the top right-hand corner of this blog page.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about and seeing the pictures of our dream vacation. I encourage everyone to do what they can to stop and smell the roses once in a while, no matter how difficult your journey. I know that a Caribbean cruise is not practical or even possible for everyone, but almost anyone can find some way to relax and enjoy themselves. No doubt you deserve it.

cutting loose in Cozumel

On Friday, the mind games began.

Sometimes it’s like there are two people inside of me. No, I’m not schizophrenic. On one level I was still having the time of my life, and I needed to concentrate on enjoying the day ahead in Cozumel, Mexico. On another level I was starting to feel a creeping dread that this vacation would soon be over. Despite this dark cloud on the horizon, I did manage to stay in the moment and thoroughly enjoy the remainder of the cruise.

As I did in Jamaica, I prearranged for a wheelchair taxi tour of the island. The deal was $175 for 4 hours. We departed the ship and ran the gauntlet of vendors on our way to the taxi stand. Per the plan, our taxi driver was waiting for us holding a placard with my name on it- already much better than the situation in Jamaica.

The van appeared modern and in good shape. The driver opened up the rear doors exposing a nice power lift. I positioned myself on the lift, and the driver raised me up. When we got to the top I noticed that there was neither a lowered floor nor a raised roof in the van. Damn, vertical space would be at a premium. As I inched forward the top of my iBOT seat hit the top of the van door opening. Progress stopped.

My wife and I have encountered so many access obstacles over the years that we’ve become proficient and creative at solving them. I wish I had pictures of the time we drove the iBOT onto a dock at my brother’s lake cottage using two planks over the water. Probably we could have solved this taxi challenge as well, but our hearts weren’t in it. My wife’s reluctance was based on her opinion that $175 was too much money to spend. For me, I feared that I would not be able to sit up straight during the 4 hour tour. So, even though our driver urged us to try to squeeze into the van, we played dumb. I apologized to the driver, who barely understood any English, and asked him to lower me back to the pavement.

The walk into town from the pier was 2.5 miles, and we decided to go for it despite the Mexican heat. The stroll was neither scary nor particularly interesting. The sidewalk quality was below Grand Cayman standards, but still passable for me in four wheel drive mode. By the time we reached downtown we were hot, tired, hungry, and thirsty. A gentleman beckoned us into his restaurant with the promise of air conditioning. It worked (both the beckoning and the air conditioning).

walk into town

drunkstore bar

After relaxing and refilling our tanks in this authentic, quaint, affordable Mexican restaurant, we were ready to take on Cozumel.

We wandered the clean and safe streets. Although the vendors were vocal, they didn’t bother us. I don’t know if they were less aggressive than the Jamaicans, or if we were we simply getting used to that game. Throughout the city, the Spanish speaking vendors had a common English phrase for, I assume, all wheelchair users: “free parking inside”…”free parking over here”…”come on in, free parking.” Ugh. It was only funny the first dozen times.

downtown Cozumel

downtown Cozumel

back up just a little more…

bars with clowns, what an idea!

I had managed to avoid using the bathrooms in Haiti, Jamaica, and Grand Cayman- just good timing. But because we took advantage of the beer and margaritas in Cozumel, there was no avoiding it. They say not to drink the water in Mexico. I say the water is OK, just don’t use the bathrooms, well at least the handicapped accessible ones. They were not clean, and they didn’t always have grab bars. The stalls were just a little bigger than the standard ones.

But other than that we had a great time in Cozumel. The food, drink, and souvenirs were plentiful and inexpensive. Eventually, we had to return to the ship. But there was no way that we wanted to make that 2.5 mile trek back to the pier in the afternoon heat. We found a taxi driver and asked him to call us a handicapped accessible taxi. It seemed that the ratio of cabs to tourists was about 2 to 1, and there were three large cruise ships in port that day. Tough way to make a living.

Besides the bathrooms, the other third world-ish aspect of Cozumel was the occasional soldier or group of soldiers toting automatic weapons on the streets.  I just don’t see that very much in Portland, Maine. There is a serious war in Mexico these days between the government and the drug lords, and even the tourist towns are not exempt from it.

When the wheelchair taxi arrived, because we were highly motivated, we found a way to squeeze me and the iBOT into the back of the van for the short ride to the pier. I had asked another tourist earlier in the day what the cost of the taxi ride from the ship to downtown was. The answer- $7. But because this was a special handicapped van, he charged me $14. That kind of discrimination is just something you just don’t experience in America. I took it in stride though.

Unfortunately, I repeated a mistake from earlier in the cruise. I was having so much fun in Cozumel that I had not been careful, and had overheated, although not as badly as in Haiti. I rested in our stateroom with a cold cloth on my forehead for an hour or so, and then I was good to go.

That night we enjoyed dinner with Pablo and Melissa, went to a production show in the ship’s massive theater, and partied a bit more. I lost $100 of my $112 blackjack winnings (of course).

I hope I don’t come across as too critical of Cozumel. I liked the island, and we had more fun there than any other port-of-call that week. The best word to describe Cozumel- festive.

One more chapter…click here

view of Cozumel from our ship

“Oh CRAP!”

These words, or some slightly more profane, were the first I uttered on Thursday morning of my cruise, as our ship was approaching George Town, Grand Cayman (photo from our balcony on right).

I had owned the iBOT for almost two years. Every single night during that time, without fail, I had remembered to plug it in to charge the batteries…but not on Wednesday night.

Disaster, right? Well, if it had to happen, then that was perhaps the best day for it. Kim was going on a snorkeling excursion without me on Grand Cayman anyway, and I was going to be on my own during that time. I certainly didn’t need all day to explore George Town.

While Kim went ashore, I plugged in the iBOT for a few hours and watched a movie on my laptop. I agree that The Hurt Locker is an important movie, but I question whether it was the best movie of the year.  Maybe I feel this way because I was slightly distracted while watching it, itching to be out in this Caribbean paradise rather than sitting in my room, or perhaps I feel this way because I was absolutely blown away by Avatar in IMAX 3D.  But I digress.

This was the only port of call on our cruise where Freedom of the Seas didn’t tie up to a dock. I had been worried about this a bit, even though I’d been reassured by my travel agent and others. It turned out to be a non-issue. Small tender boats (100 or so people at a time) loaded passengers constantly, and after a 5 minute boat ride, deposited them on shore. I was worried about transfers from the cruise ship to the tender and from the tender to shore. But both went very smoothly. I accomplished the journey from ship to shore by myself with zero drama. I make it a point to maintain a personal drama-free zone around myself at all times anyway.

view of our ship from the tender

nice ramp from tender to shore

What a stark contrast there is between Ocho Rios, Jamaica and George Town, Grand Cayman, two exotic Caribbean islands that we visited on consecutive days during the cruise. If Grand Cayman in some ways resembles me- understated, safe, organized, and predictable- then Jamaica resembles Robin Williams back when he was on coke- outrageous, improvisational, and unpredictable. Both island personalities hold a certain charm though.  I’m not here to judge.

George Town is modern. The streets are clean; the sidewalks and buildings are generally accessible, probably better than the average American city. I saw only a few street vendors, and they were not obnoxious. Many employees of the stores looked and sounded like, well, Americans. This was an oasis of normalcy after Jamaica.

example of sidewalk ramp in George Town

The geography of Grand Cayman is different than that of Haiti and Jamaica. The latter are large islands with mountains and jungles. Grand Cayman is a small, flat island. I bet there is nowhere to hide outside in a hurricane.

7 mile beach, Grand Cayman

Given its modern appearance, I set out to score some internet access for a reasonable fee, so that I could get caught up on my emails. As I wandered around the clean, safe, accessible streets I happened upon the Cayman Islands Public Library. Inside, there was a bank of computers where I spent an hour catching up, for free. Afterward I explored the shops for a while, and then headed back to the ship.

Kim had an outstanding snorkeling experience, including close encounters with stingrays.

back rub, anyone?

kissing a ray!

learning to hold a ray

this is nuts!

looking up at our ship from tender

two other cruise ships in port that day

At about 3:00, back on the ship, I couldn’t wait for Kim any longer, so I dove headfirst into the lunch buffet. At 3:30, just as I had finished my feast, Kim returned from her excursion and declared that she was starving. Being the gentleman that I am, I didn’t make her dine alone. I told her I’d have a “little something” with her. I’m not sure how it happened, but I had a complete second lunch. That’s how we rolled on the ship- eat till you drop, take a short breather, eat some more. It takes profound effort and concentration. I was equal to the task.

We enjoyed a wonderful sunset off the bow of our westbound ship. See the photos.

Thursday night was our second and final formal dinner. One of the dining choices was a lobster tail and shrimp plate. Kim ordered two, because she could. I was intrigued by the dessert sampler, so I ordered two of them, because I could. I know what you’re wondering, and here’s the answer. Kim, with all her walking and other activities, and a freakishly high resting metabolic rate, gained only one pound during the cruise. I gained seven. Frankly though, I was relieved. I had feared double digits.

Last stop- Cozumel, Mexico…click here

I don’t know how to best describe Ocho Rios, Jamaica, our second port of call. Clearly, Jamaica is not a manufactured little town like Labadee, Haiti is. It’s authentic, yet enchanted (or should I say bewitched?). I took this video from our stateroom balcony as we approached the island.

I had connected with a Jamaican taxi driver on the internet a couple of weeks earlier. He seemed legitimate. For $150 he would drive Kim and I around the island in his wheelchair accessible van for about four hours. We were to meet him at 9:45 at the cruise ship dock. We showed up a little early, about 9:15. There was a no-nonsense lady who appeared to be in charge of the taxis. She asked me if I wanted one. “No,” I said, and I gave her the name of my contact. She’d never heard of him. That was when things began to get weird.

There was a gentleman taxi driver nearby who had a wheelchair accessible van. The lady in charge motioned for him. I guess we were an obvious match. He came over and asked me if I needed a wheelchair taxi. I said, “No thanks. I’ve already made arrangements with someone else.” I’d seen a picture of my contact, and he was about 30 years younger than this guy.

He cleverly asked me, “What’s the name of the guy you are waiting for?”

I told him.

“Oh, I work with him. I spoke with him last night and he told me to pick you up today. Didn’t he tell you?”

“Oh, no, he didn’t tell me,” I said, becoming confused (or bewitched).

“And the deal was?” he asked.

“150 dollars for four hours,” I responded automatically.

Things were happening so fast. Little did I know that I should have answered $100, or maybe even $75, because I later realized that this guy was not connected with my internet guy at all.

“Right,” he said while accepting my greenbacks. “Follow me.”

We obeyed.

The vehicle was in decent shape. However, I noticed that there was another couple already seated in the large van. As the driver was opening up the rear door and setting up a ramp for me to get in I whispered to the other couple, “How much is he charging you?”

“I don’t know for sure. About $100,” they responded. Apparently, they were no better prepared for this situation than we were.

I said, “You shouldn’t pay him anything. I was supposed to have this van to myself for $150. We can split the cost.”

But it all happened so fast. This driver was very good at what he did- negotiating or casting spells, I’m not sure which. He sucked $150 out of the other couple, and then we were on our way.

Remember in Chapter 1 of this cruise story, I indicated that a wedding party had boarded the ship just before the cripples had. Guess what? The couple in the van with us was the newlyweds — Pablo and Melissa. They’re very nice people, and we spent a lot of time with them on the cruise after surviving Jamaica with them.

The driver quickly assumed the classic Jamaican tour guide persona and put us at ease (ya mon). We all agreed that we didn’t want him to take us to all the normal tourist spots. We wanted him to show us the real Jamaica. We were asking to go “off the grid.” What were we thinking?

In Jamaica they drive on the left side of the road, and in my humble opinion they drive like maniacs. But this guy was an old hand, and didn’t kill us. We met all sorts of strange Jamaican characters that day, all of whom knew our driver by name.

strange Jamaican character

Ready Freddy

local herb garden

our ship from a vista above Ocho Rios

We stopped and got out of the van at a couple of locations- to look at the scenery or to shop. At most of these locations, if I had not been in my iBOT wheelchair with four-wheel drive mode, it would’ve been very difficult for me to get around. So I rate the island of Jamaica fairly low in terms of wheelchair accessibility. But we didn’t get off the ship and wander around that part of town, so to be fair I can’t speak specifically to the accessibility of the downtown area in Ocho Rios.

Naturally, the Jamaicans were amazed by my wheelchair, especially in balance mode. At one point Kim was helping me up a high sidewalk curb by using the stair climbing mode. A vendor came up to me and reached out to help. That could really have screwed up the operation, so I abruptly put him off, and he was a bit offended. But when he saw how well the iBOT managed that curb, he nodded and smiled.

The vendors in Jamaica are aggressive. They swarm all over you and behave in what we Americans consider a bold and brash manner. They don’t make physical contact, so you don’t feel unsafe in that way, but it’s not a pleasant experience. After a time you either tune them out or their routine begins to eat away at you and ruin your mood. You don’t leisurely look over their wares and ask them questions. The vendors beg and plead and cajole you, including the drug dealers.

Eventually we were dropped off at a small beach with a little restaurant nearby. We had authentic Jamaican jerk chicken and the local Red Stripe beer for a reasonable price, and wandered around the beach for a while. But it was very hot, and after about three hours of braving this exotic island, even though we considered ourselves the adventurous sort, all four of us were ready to return to the familiarity of our cruise ship. We summoned the taxi driver, and he asked where we wanted to go next. He seemed disappointed, even though he had already been paid, when we said that we were done. I may have played the disability card. I can’t remember for sure.

Pablo and Melissa

near the beach

Ocho Rios from the top deck of our ship

Such an esoteric culture…such a mysterious island. I suspect that if I ever visit there again, I’ll stay “on the grid.” Jamaica would be a less scary place if experienced from the sterile, canned tours. But in retrospect, I’m glad we saw Jamaica the way we did. I’ll never forget that day.

To be continued…click here

Like so many family-oriented couples, Kim and I found ourselves approaching the empty nest stage of our lives having never enjoyed a romantic vacation without the kids. A cruise holiday had always been on our bucket list, but we never even had a serious discussion about embarking on one.

One morning this past winter I realized that I was having more difficulty transferring from my bed to my wheelchair. At that moment I had an epiphany. What was I waiting for?  I wasn’t going to get any better- only worse. I would never be more capable of enjoying a vacation than I was right then. Later that same day I presented my case to Kim. I was either very persuasive, or it was simply an inspired idea, because she instantly embraced the concept of us going on a cruise (or the third possibility is that she always wanted to go on one, but her New England frugality kept those feelings properly suppressed).

We spent a couple of weeks exploring our options. Much of the research involved finding a cruise line, a cruise ship, and ports of call that were more handicapped accessible than average. I referred to my friend Candy Harrington’s book 101 Accessible Vacations for some guidance. Since this was our first cruise experience, we worked through a disability travel agency, Snail’s Pace Special Travel Services. Eventually we booked the Royal Caribbean cruise line, Freedom of the Seas ship, and a Western Caribbean itinerary- with an April 18th scheduled departure.  Below is a map of our cruise route.

Royal Caribbean offers wheelchair accessible rooms that are about 1.5 times larger than standard staterooms (for the same price). This leaves ample space for maneuvering a wheelchair. Just as importantly, the bathroom is extra roomy, and laden with grab bars. Because this was a once-in-a-lifetime vacation for us, we splurged for a room with a balcony (accessible). The public areas in these ships are highly accessible too. All the public restrooms have pushbutton door openers for both the outside door and the handicapped stall door. Most of the other public doors are also automatic. These are rare accessibility features for even the most progressive buildings on shore.

we pushed these beds together

roomy cabin

accessible shower

accessible toilet

accessible balcony and accessible glass of beer

Kim and I shared the planning duties. I made packing lists and spreadsheets. That’s what I do- bring order to chaos. I dealt with the travel agent and the cruise line. Kim researched activities on the ship and at the ports, to plan our entertainment and sightseeing. She joined Facebook cruising groups to learn more about this type of vacationing. We both did a lot of shopping for “cruise clothes.”

So why am I writing about this experience? Is this the what it is like for a disabled person to cruise post? Is it the cruising with MS post, or is it the taking my iBOT on a Caribbean cruise post? Really, it’s not written from any one of these perspectives. I’m just sharing with you what this adventure was like for Kim and me, given our unique challenges. Take from it what you will. No matter your reason for reading, hopefully you will find this post to be amusing, informative, or maybe it is just boring enough for you to read when counting sheep has failed.

The first leg of the journey was the flight from Portland, Maine to Orlando, Florida. One of the big packing decisions we had to make was whether or not to burden ourselves with my manual wheelchair. I’ve owned this chair for over a year, but I’ve probably spent a grand total of 30 minutes sitting in it. I really love the iBOT, and I don’t enjoy the manual wheelchair at all. Yet, it seemed like an unacceptable risk to embark on this dream vacation without any backup mobility device, just in case there was some sort of problem with the iBOT. There was never any consideration given to going on this trip without my iBOT. So, reluctantly, we packed up the manual wheelchair and the stuff that goes with it, our three big bags, our two carry-ons, and headed to the airport. As we were unloading our gear from the minivan at the Portland airport it became immediately apparent to us that the manual wheelchair was no burden at all, but rather a very useful luggage cart. Who knew?

I had not flown in a year, but nothing had changed for me. I still drove my iBOT to the mouth of the plane and then transferred to what is called an “aisle chair” or a “straight back chair.” I took the computer controller and the foot rests off the iBOT and folded the seatback down. This essentially put the iBOT in what I call “armadillo mode.” I instructed the baggage handler on how to set and release the brake on the iBOT so he could push the chair around easily. Two strapping men got me down the aisle in the aisle chair and I transfer to my seat. Standard stuff.

airplane aisle chair

iBOT standard mode

iBOT armadillo mode

On the trip to Orlando we had a short layover at Reagan International Airport, so I arranged for my iBOT to go directly from one plane to the other, just like all the other luggage. I was transferred from gate to gate in one of those ultra-flattering airport wheelchairs.

When we arrived in Orlando my iBOT was brought up to the mouth of the plane. I transferred from the aisle chair to the iBOT, reassembled it, and it started up just fine — the same as the other dozen or so times I’ve flown with it. Kim and I went to baggage claim and picked up our bags and our cart/wheelchair and went to the taxi stand. We found a wheelchair taxi without too much difficulty and were transported to our hotel just a couple of miles from the airport. We spent the night there and then on Sunday morning our prearranged wheelchair van took us from Orlando to Port Canaveral, Florida, where the Freedom of the Seas and our dream vacation awaited us.

before boarding

view of ship from beach later in cruise

After being issued our boarding documents we were told to hang out in a special section of the waiting area. I soon realized that I was being herded together with all the other cripples (no offense…none taken). We watched as a wedding party boarded the ship, and then the cripples went next. What a fine looking parade we were- wheelchairs, scooters, walkers, canes, too old, too fat, bearded lady, sword swallower, you name it.  But I didn’t feel conspicuous. These are my peeps now.

And so began our cruise vacation- flawlessly. But what challenges awaited us on the high seas (cue ominous music here)?

To be continued…click here