Of course, a complete turnover like this means a less confident (maybe even a little ragged) sounding band and more rehearsals. I don't mind. What else am I doing? And we've got to log hours somehow.
We're still without a guitar player, though, and that will present some problems for a couple of the shows we have to play. Some acts – especially rock 'n' roll acts – depend on guitar quite heavily. For example, I suspect Micky Dolenz (of Monkees fame) might feel the need for a guitar. But the closer it gets to Christmas, the less likely it is we'll find someone.
Oh well. What can you do?
For your information and future reference, the band members are now:
1.Simon, England, keyboards, bandleader and musical director.
2.Hugo, Argentina, drums.
3.Mario, Argentina, alto sax, clarinet, flute.
4.Thomasz, Poland, tenor sax.
5.Troy, USA, trumpet.
6.David, Scotland, trumpet (and my cabinmate).
7.Yours truly, Canada, bass and chronicler
As I said, the guitar position remains open, and a new trombone player is due to arrive this Sunday, I think. So we're still two short of a full orchestra. Furthermore, several of the above are due to be replaced on the 19th of December! Christmas will be busy with rehearsals in addition to the added calls we get at that time of year.
As I look over the list, it occurs to me that I'm the lone remaining Canadian in the orchestra. When I arrived on the ship, almost half of us were Canadian – Ben, Ron, Nick, and myself.
***
At least a couple of times I day I head out to deck five aft where I can sit and look out over the ocean without being bothered by the wind that is almost always present on deck five forward. Most people go out there to smoke, but surprisingly few to just sit and contemplate.
But there are a few of us contemplators. We know who we are, and we don't generally approach each other. A simple greeting and a knowing look is about the extent of our interaction, contemplation being a solitary activity.
We're the regulars out there, like the lone drinkers in a neighbourhood bar. We get to know each other only slowly – drop by drop.
One contemplator I'm slowly getting to know by seeing him out on deck five is a Norwegian hydro systems engineer. He takes his tea out there every day around sundown.
John (Jorn) is a young guy, not yet married. He's been on the ship since its takeout in Turku, and has been working on ships since leaving school. He is due to leave RCCL at the end of January. I asked him where he's going next.
“Oh, there's lots of work out there. I might like to find a job on an oil rig. You work two weeks, then get four weeks off. It's just like working on a ship, but you're not moving. And it pays better.”
I asked him if he would ever consider getting a job on land.
“Oh, I tried that once! It feels strange to 'go to work' on land. I didn't like it. The ocean – that's where I want to be. The land is for coming back to. What do you have to come back to if you're working on the land?”
Hmmm. I think the sea life must be very deeply rooted in the souls of Norwegians. Which makes me wonder why my ancestors (the Norwegian ones) pulled up stakes in Norway and moved to a place about as far away from an ocean as you can get on this planet – Wisconsin.
What in the world drove them there?
A typical view from deck 5 aft near sunset
