The Old Men and the Sea. (and Old Women, too)
We expected this to be an older crowd, which it is. We also expected passengers who were very engaged with the world around them and who also had interesting tales to tell. Check. Finally, we also expected a few odd ducks. Check check.
There is, though, a larger number of people with some mobility issues than we would have thought. Also, the curmudgeon ratio is slightly higher than expected. But in thinking about these last two, I guess it’s really not too surprising. This is not your typical expedition voyage where you’re climbing into Zodiacs or kayaks on a daily basis. No wet landings. No 5 a.m. wake up calls. It’s more about the time at sea. So, those with mobility issues are going to be a bit more secure, except maybe when moving around on a rocking ship. It’s also an environment that’s more appealing to those who want to sit back and be catered to. The ones who tend to whine about every perceived slight (“Why did that table get their entrée first even though we sat down first?”). Fortunately, on a ship with only 100 passengers, this group was easy to identify early on, and thus could be avoided. Secondly, they tend to congregate in clusters and keep somewhat to themselves. Finally, there’s not really that many of them to begin with.
What we really hadn’t anticipated was the overwhelming volume of repeat Lindblad loyalists. Maybe not loyalists, more like groupies. Obsessed groupies. Old obsessed groupies.
Last night we sat at a table of 6 where no one had been on more than 2 prior sailings with Lindblad. We decided we were at the kids’ table. It seems that most people are in the double digits. One person we met is on her 24th voyage. I bet there’s someone here with even more than that.
They’re all great people. At least, except for the curmudgeons (see above). But there are times you’re with a group that knows the names of every kitchen helper or coal-shoveller from their last 10 voyages, or the topic of conversation is “do you remember on the trip to West Whozitstan when Patrick dressed up as St. Swizen?”, or some such nonsense. There’s a certain snobbery in this. That’s when you feel like you’re just visiting a club that you will never be a part of.
“Sometimes when I grow tired of the pecking order, like when standing in line in the dining room and hear, “how many Lindblad trips have you done? I’ve done 65.”, I remind myself Darwin did one voyage, but he thought about it.”