The Meaning Of Freedom At Sea

Sunday was a very busy day for Mark and Lauren's wedding party. Not only was there a wedding, but they met the Captain, Nick Nash (who hails from that musically-famed seaport, Penzance, Cornwall), and dressed up for the ship's first Formal Night.

Alone in my room, I slept fitfully and absent-mindedly watched television when I was awake. I had time to reflect on freedom, particularly at sea.

Freedom on land is a comparatively-straightforward thing, but on sea, freedom is always compromised to some extent. One is always - always - chained to one's craft. For example, people on rafts have very, very little room to stretch their legs, but they have agency to take the raft wherever they pleased. On the other hand, there is plenty of room to stretch one's legs on a cruise liner, but the schedule of the cruise liner is very rigid. Rafters could decide on a whim to paddle to Acapulco, should they please, but nothing short of catastrophe could make this tightly-scheduled ship go there anytime soon.

And what does it mean to be detained in one's cabin on a luxury vessel? Is that a good thing, or a bad thing? There certainly are worse fates! But there are better fates too....

At about four-hour intervals, HazMat crews came into the room to do what they could to sterilize my room. They sprayed surfaces down with a special spray as they eyed me suspiciously to guess what sort of plague I might be carrying.

I noticed the HazMat crews always sprayed down the wall at head level at the foot of my bed. I thought that a bit odd: I never touched that wall, but it was easy for them to reach, and they never failed wiping it down. Instead, I always touched the wall adjacent to my bed, but they never sprayed down that surface. After a while, I decided this periodic cleansing had less to do with hygiene and more to do with religious ritual. The wiping gesture was reminiscent of the old Jewish custom of touching a door frame upon crossing a threshold - Tradition! Here, on this ship, the trouble wasn't that I was Sick: the trouble was that I was Unclean.

I didn't eat any food on Sunday. That's a ritual too. They call it fasting....