“Whenever a thing is done for the first time, it releases a little demon.”
— Emily Dickinson
A demon? What kind of a demon? I recently bought a package of snacks I’ve never had before. They are small balls of crushed corn chips, potato chips, and pretzels covered with chocolate. I am getting a little demonic as I try to find places to hide them so I don’t scarf down the whole bag. Consider yourselves warned.
It is true, however, that it’s exciting the first time you do something, even if you never do it again. I knew I was one and done after the first time I went ice fishing, but it was unforgettable for sure. I found nothing fun about sitting on a hard wooden bench in a bitter-cold shack the size of a porta-potty. Wait, there were those thrilling 30 seconds when I tried to haul in a fish (that turned out to be a lost life jacket), and “the whole shack shimmied” and nearly fell over.
I went on vacation recently, and most of those two weeks were jam-packed with first times. I’ve been lucky enough to travel on dozens of cruise ships, but this trip was on an ocean liner, the Queen Mary 2. According to the marketing, it harkens back to the Golden Age of ocean travel. It included formal nights, white-glove service, and, yes, even some almost steerage-like cabins. That’s the kind I sailed in, and it was a first for me… and a last.
Yes, the “all you do in the room is sleep and shower; who cares what it’s like” chorus echoed in my head. Pro tip: If the weather is bad, as it often is crossing the North Atlantic, you’re stuck inside for large chunks of time, and there are only so many buffet trips one should make. There is a walking track around the deck; they call it “the Promenade Deck,” and on the calmer sea days, it was lovely.
Once the winds kicked up, though? It was less of a promenade and more of an obstacle course for me as I tried not to get blown into a lifeboat. This is a win for someone who can trip over air and walk into walls. Hopefully, my Red Sox hat, sacrificed to the sea one blustery day, will make some dolphin happy.
On the QM2, sailing the Atlantic Ocean is a big deal, and it’s not called a “cruise.” It’s called a “crossing.” There are no ports; it’s 14 days at sea. I’m glad I did it, even if it took me three days of being back home to stop feeling like I was swaying sideways like a disoriented crab.
Luckily, the first part of the trip had a theater theme, so I signed up to be in the passenger show. Singing and dancing to show tunes on a stage while the ship is rolling? What could possibly go wrong? Still, my fellow passengers and I all bonded over the fact that none of us required medical attention during the week of rehearsals. I might have looked (and sounded) like a feral cat coughing up a hairball, but it was fun.
As for the formal nights? Now I know why celebrities and royals have people to dress them. It’s a lot of work finding something formal when I barely ever wear anything nicer than a skirt and tights, not to mention shoving myself into a long dress and high heels five times in two weeks.
Another first for me on the trip was train travel. New York is a mere three and a half hours away on the super-fast Acela train. It was epic speeding through Mystic, Conn., at a top speed of 145 mph. There will be a next time, but maybe longer, in one of those mini-sleeping cabins. Technically, I have slept on a train before, but I don’t think the commute home from North Station after a long workday counts.
None of my recent adventures have turned me into a demon, but they will remain treasured memories, some of which I will repeat, others, not so much. Since I don’t keep a “bucket list,” I can at least take a few things off my “never have I ever” list. I can’t wait to see what gets crossed out next.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.