Recently, we went on a cruise on the west coast. We started from San Diego, to Catalina Islands, and then to Ensenada in Mexico, then back to San Diego. The ship in which we travelled, the Carnival Elation, was large, filled with passengers, teeming with activities, and overflowing with food. For a first time cruiser, all this made an instant impression.
I'd never been aboard a large ship before. If ever I was over water, it was on small boats and ferries. I've never had the need or the compulsion to be on a ship. And now, when by Equal Half suggested a cruise suddenly, although it took me abck, I agreed to him. I was anyways game to new experiences, and this, I presumed, would absolutely be a new one. And it did turn out to be so. It did not match any of my previous life experiences.
The simplest mismatch with everyday life was the water that I saw all around me. For someone born in Dibrugarh, Assam, where there was the Brahmaputra and river water and rain water most of the year, the large body of water of an ocaen, the Pacific Ocaen in this case, was simply uncomparable. It was deeper, wider, until the eyes could see. The horizon eneded in a thin line of water only.
So much water could be a cause of nervousness for someone like me, inexperienced with the behaviour of this kind of water. But there are advantages of being born in the Twentieth Century. You've seen so much of similar things on film and television, with lot of vicarious living, that almost nothing seem to be new or strange. The movie Titanic was my reference point for comparison of the real life ship with the films that showed so much of a ship during the story.
