Soaked, Stranded, and Sailing Anyway!

A Slow Crawl Through Torrential Rain

Our vacation began with rain so fierce, it felt like all the fire hydrants in heaven had been opened up. The drive to Galveston turned into a crawl, with each mile washing away a little of our usual cruise day excitement.

Every time I dared to suggest the skies might clear, another downpour would wash away that hope.

Optimism Drenched at Every Turn

Outside the terminal, I left Becky with the bags under a light drizzle, but no sooner did I pull away than the rain poured down again in full force.

After reaching my pre-paid parking spot about two blocks from the terminal, an attendant in a golf cart kindly offered to drive me to the pedestrian crossing across the street from the port. As I climbed out, he cheerfully noted, “Looks like you’re going to get a break in the rain.”

Famous last words. Ten seconds later, I was in the middle of yet another deluge. In the blurred distance, the Carnival Breeze transformed into something biblical—a colossal ark of acacia wood with a long-bearded figure ushering in giraffes and zebras.

A Waterlogged Welcome at the Terminal

By the time I stumbled into the terminal building, I felt like I’d just taken a fully clothed bath in the Gulf.

I ducked into a restroom to wring out my shirt and attempt some semblance of drying. The towel dispenser, naturally, was broken, and the only help was a dwindling roll of toilet paper that might have been half-ply—about as effective as a napkin in a monsoon.

Finally, I shuffled up to the check-in counter, dripping and defeated, and practically begged the clerk to skip the room card photo. She agreed to use my passport photo, which looks like a mugshot of a man contemplating life at San Quentin. Today, though, I couldn’t be more grateful for that grim photo.

Despite the Maytag treatment getting into the terminal, I’m here with my girl, and soon enough, we’ll be on the ship. Carnival, as long as you have a half dozen dry towels on board, I’m ready for you!