Today started innocent enough. We got up early to catch the whale site seeing boat. The first thing that we did was settle into our indoor 2nd floor cabin....while others rushed for outdoor seating (suckers). As we patiently waited for the boat to take off, the captain came on the loud speakers to warn of rough seas ahead. I believe his exact words were "we expect to experience 3ft waves on average. And if you dont think you can handle it, don't be afraid to leave for a refund."
Now, let's face it. This was a direct challenge to our kinhood. 3ft waves, we laugh in its face. Take that puddle hoppers. We come from good stock that crossed the Atlantic in search of a better life. But I digress.
The cruise started well enough. Glistening blue skies covered beautiful Bar Harbor. Oh, but there were dark skies ahead, my friends. Very dark skies.
After a brief stop at an island full of Puffins, we turned our attention to the whales. Oh the whales. Those illusive whales.
We motored around the Atlantic in very rough seas to find those blessed whales. The waves must have been 100 feet high. (in 10 years that will be our story).
After what seemed like an eternity of cruising around in progressively worse seas....there she blows! And I MEAN there she blows.
No, my friends, not a friendly whale siting. No, no, no ....something much more ominous.
It started with one women on the outside. Cookie in one hand...barf bag in another. (clearly torn with the troubling decision of which should take priority). But atlas, the barf bag one out....(note, she did somehow finish the cookie, a miraculous feat)
But she was not alone. On no..not by any measure. Suddenly, as if a starting bell sounded, there were tons of people with their barf bags.
And then suddenly, there was a rumbling on the seas, a slow, quiet rumbling. Clearly something was building. As it continued to gargle, there was another quicker eruption nearby. This apparently started a seismic chain of events.
My friends, the low, quiet rumbling grew strong (and quiet loud). With a giant crescendo, it blew right into its barf bag.
The two continued to erupt while simultaneously laughing. Small, short eruption...battling long bounce off the wall eruptions.
But they were not alone. The horrors, oh the horrors. Hazarding a guess, 90% of the boat was sick. As Mike and I looked on in amusement (ha ha). The rest of the boat was in agony.
And what of those darn whales...clearly put off by all of those puke bags. Not one sighting.
The sea was ANGRY that day, like an old man trying to return soup at a deli (George from Seinfield)--in 10 years, that's how the story will start.
To summarize: rough seas, filled barf bags in the thousands, no whales... and two people are getting totally awesome Christmas gifts.
The sea was ANGRY that day, like an old man trying to return soup at a deli (George from Seinfield)--in 10 years, that's how the story will start.
To summarize: rough seas, filled barf bags in the thousands, no whales... and two people are getting totally awesome Christmas gifts.
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