Anno Domini MMXVIII
A few hundred miles from Jamaica (and that’s close enough)
January 1, 2018
Every six years Christmas and New Years land on a Monday.
This quirk of the calendar obligates back-to-back Masses on consecutive weekends; the first to recognize the Fourth Sunday of Advent and the Feast of the Nativity, the second to honor the Solemnity of Mary after the usual Sunday attendance the previous day.
As such, we have now met Father Henry, the pastor of our floating parish, four times: once at each Mass, and again on deck early one morning as we coasted slowly into port at Corinto.
From Poland (which is irrelevant, as will be seen presently), he advised us to climb the cathedral at Leon and to visit the Cathedral de San Pedro in Cartagena (I know: as if we wouldn’t have done both anyway, but his heart was in the right place, so we acted as if we were newly endowed with inside information).
Mass every morning is at 8:00. Rita and I fulfilled each of our four obligations, a fact of which I was unaware till late yesterday morning.
I am typically first to rise each day, as was the case in this instance. A rat in the maze of routine, at 6a I grabbed my morning coffee and my daily brieflets from the New York Times and The Canadian (need to keep an eye on them), and bided my time in the Explorations Café.
Knowing (or assuming) Rita had been very tired from the previous day, I decided not to wake her before attending Mass. Only after returning to the cabin did she tell me she had come to Mass a few minutes late, sat a few “pews” behind me in the Wajang Theater “chapel”, and took communion a few seconds after I did.
It’s not that I am not detailed; I am just “focused”.
Upon returning last evening from Cartagena, we enjoyed the show, featuring Irish comedy from George Casey that often hit too close to home, and then after dinner joined a terrific party in the Queens Lounge to welcome the New Year.
New Year 2018 in the Queen’s Lounge
Having been on this ship almost two weeks, toasts were raised among faces that had become familiar, ushering out the old and welcoming the new in refreshing and commendable style.
None the worse for wear, Rita and I did attend Mass together this morning (I witnessed that one). Alexander and David, having connected into the small hours with other young adults on the ship, are permitted on this occasion to exchange Mass for Confession.
After Mass was another terrific day at sea, replete with buffets, trivia, reading, ping pong, more trivia, and (now) the imminent prospect of happy hour.
Tonight we dine at the Pinnacle Grill, redeeming a very nice gift from my mother and Jerry. It was initially to have been for Christmas dinner, but on that night the main dining room offered the lobster Alexander always craves on these trips, so we switched our reservation to tonight so he can feast twice on that delicacy.
But here in the Ocean Bar it is now Happy Hour, and from the corner comes the sound of a bartender dropping ice cubes into a glass which, like the bells of Notre Dame, call the Faithful to evening prayers.
Happy New Year,
JD
