It is nine AM and the Queen Elizabeth has just cleared immigration and customs. A seeming formality for small islands like this...clearing bigger ports is much more bureaucratic. Five of us from the spa are in the crew-line to get off ship, waiting for guest tours to finish disembarking. It was nice to sleep in a couple hours extra...I really don't like waking up to alarms. A few of the spa folk decided to sleep in all morning and get off in the afternoon, but after two thirteen hour work days at sea, I want some tropical beach time, and away from the metal box. Sea days are long. Fortunately, yesterday, the receptionist recognized my omission in scheduling lunch and dinner and did it for me. The day before I wound up working through lunch and had half a dinner...my own fault really, since I control my own schedule. Perhaps if the food in the staff mess was consistently palatable, I would be less inclined to overlook eating. Food quality in the passenger areas is much better, but the red tape of getting permission to eat there, and then dressing up in the attire of the evening sometimes just isn't worth it. Some friends here say other ships aren't nearly as political and rigid about such matters...yet others don't allow staff to eat in guest areas at all. In actuality, the fare is not always bad, but lets face it I am a food snob...and organic?...forget about it. This is another reason we are in line early to get off...real food is calling us from the outside world!
Crew and staff start disembarking in short order, and our small group is keen on finding a nice breakfast cafe...with wifi ofcourse. The nicest cafe, if without wifi, will not be well patroned by ship's company. It is ethereal gold to us. Every once in a while I see one of my patients walking around, not uncommon with a passenger manifest of two-thousand and relatively small geography onshore. Sometimes they don't recognize me in casual clothes, especially when I zip by on my longboard wearing a bandana and sunglasses. On this cruise, like most, the majority of my patients are of the back pain category, with a handful of arthritic knees. Surprisingly, I have one patient who is coming for maintenance and well-being, and not-too-surprisingly, one for weight loss. Most of my patients are British, with a couple Australians and one American. Brits are, by and large, much more skeptical than most. Helping them understand how this medicine will benefit their health is a big task. I have customized my seminar presentations to be efficient in bridging the gaps of understanding and practitioner trust. Tough nuts to crack, but once they open up, are some of the most genuinely caring people I've met. Most of my business on board comes from two seminars, about ninety percent actually: 'Introduction to Acupuncture' and 'Back Pain/Arthritis Solutions'. Although I teach three or four a week, it is really the success and attendance of the first two of the cruise that set the tone for how busy I will be.
After overly enjoying local food and wifi, we catch one of the ubiquitous van-taxis to the local beach. The driver is a master at his craft, asking the right questions to keep a lively conversation going with laughter all around...a sure way to get well-tipped. We filled up the eight passenger van with a couple more crew members we found wifi'ing at the cafe. The beach is packed, understandably, given the turqoise waters, beach shack restaurants blaring Bob Marley, and a perfect, lightly breezing eighty degree day. Moments like this, assisted by perpetual rose-colored lenses, wordlessly validate why I love this lifestyle. It doesn't take long to realize half of the ship's company are at the beach with us. Fresh coconuts, periodic swims, beach naps, rum-punch, gorgeous scenery...an amazing day, which after several hours we are remiss to leave. But alas, one drawback of this life is you never quite seem to have enough time at any port, unless it's an overnight call...which are very few.
Back on the ship, we all plan to meet up for sail-away on deck four. That gives us time to shower and relax a bit. Some people opt for a nap, especially the ones who got sunburned or over-indulged on rum punch. A daily ritual I seem to have adopted is putting my hands together and looking up to thank the unknown entity who negotiated our contract on the ships, entitling us acupuncturists to have our own cabins. I do so now as I get ready for the evening. A knock on my door eventually brings me back to reality “doctor Dan, you ready?” A designation which still makes me uncomfortable, but futile in trying to extinguish. I helped out some colleagues with their seasickness, migraines, stress and tendonitis...now the entire team calls me 'doc'. I've gotten used to it. The respect shown me for what I do here was a big shock at first, especially being my first job out of school; it is humbling to hold so many people's trust in store, consequently making me want to learn more and become a better practitioner. Joining my colleague, we grab a quick bite, then head to the front of the ship, right about the time the engines start up, sending a quick, pulsing vibration all the way to the bow. Slowly, we pull out of the natural harbor and back out to sea. The island gets smaller and smaller and we scan through pictures on cameras and phones people took that day, alternately laughing and squinching. I don't know what the date is or what day of the week it is...those concepts have little meaning here: it is either a sea day or port day. The breeze gets stronger as the ship picks up speed on the open water. The sunset is typically breathtaking. I look around, sipping my ridiculously inexpensive drink from the crew bar, and try not to think about the thirteen hour work day at sea tomorrow. Fortunately we have two more port days after, so I'll get more playtime. Glancing to get one last glimpse of the island, I then turn attention to my very culturally diverse group of ship friends, deciding what to do this evening...it's just another day on the Queen Elizabeth.