tedwords

"I think being gay is a blessing, and it's something I am thankful for every single day." Anderson Cooper

The last thing I want to say about our trip to Bermuda: it undoubtedly was the gayest cruise we have ever been on.

No, it wasn't a bear cruise or anything like that. In fact, the vast majority of folks on the ship were typical American families enjoying their summer vacation. But there definitely was a prominent sub-culture on this trip that made itself known and felt, and it was surprising to me how so many of us bonded during the trip.

Know this: I am not used to bonding on cruises. Except for our wedding cruise, where we were among friends and family, and one cruise last year where we became friendly with a world traveling couple for the last few days, it rarely happens.

That said, there does seem to be a different vibe for each cruise, depending on where you start the cruise from. We loved our Greek cruise last year because we discovered that, unlike Americans, Europeans don't give two shits about you and just want to enjoy their holidays, so you are kind of left alone. Thank Christ. On our cruise from Barbados in April, it was heavily from the island, and not only were we left alone, but the pools and hot tubs were largely left alone, too, which was really nice.

Americans tend to be a bit nosier and noisier. Particularly on the larger cruise ships.

But we have never been as aware that there were other gay travelers on the cruise ship as we were this time.

It started from the first day. Our suite was located in the very back of the ship, which we loved because the balcony was huge as a result (it is our second time reserving a back area, and while the going is a bit rockier as a result, there are benefits). Anyway, as we were standing on our balcony saying goodbye to Baltimore, we looked over next to us and realized there were two guys in their fourties standing on the balcony next to us.

And their first words to us? "Help!"

Turns out that when they had entered their room they had headed to the balcony and our attendant had inadvertently closed and locked the balcony door. They had spent the past half an hour trying to get out, and had finally resorted to calling the Royal Caribbean main number and pretending they wanted to book a "really expensive cruise" to try and get someone to unlock the door. Unfortunately, though, the 800 number people cannot call a ship directly.

The more talkative of the two, a Vice Principal from Indiana, handed us his room card. "Would you mind going into our room and unlocking the door for us?"

I felt weird about intruding into someone else's room. "If you want, you could climb over the wall and open it yourself," I offered.

The Vice Principal contemplated it, then looked down anxiously at the cabin below. Corb chuckled and grabbed the card from his hands. "We'd be happy to open the door for you."

Actually, I was the one to do the opening, Corb just did the offering. But it was clear from the interaction that our next door neighbors were a married couple, too, and that was seriously kind of cool. And, we had saved them!

The first two nights of our cruise, we were seriously unhappy with our dining experience, which was a first for us on a Royal Caribbean trip. We are used to a lot of attention and lovely waiters, and the folks who were helping us this time, in contrast, were indifferent and slow. They would never remember to place our drink orders or provide us with bread, and couldn't be bothered to make recommendations. After my dizzy incident, which in part was exacerbated by their slowness, we made a request the next day to move to another table.

We quickly came to realize that where we were moved clearly had a gay vibe.

Our next door neighbors were seated nearby, as were two other male gay couples. One half of one couple looked like a short Anderson Cooper and kept checking Corb out, one half of the other couple looked like Steve Moffat and kept checking me out. There was also the token lesbian couple. And our head waiter, a colorful character named Charles, was clearly from the tribe, too.

Every night, we would go to dinner and it would amuse the heck out of me.

Our next door neighbors noticed the trend, too. "Is this where they decided to put all the gays?" the Vice Principal asked, at the end of one evening.

I started calling our space the Rainbow Grotto. Every night: "Is it time to head over to the Rainbow Grotto?"

One thing I will say for the Rainbow Grotto, though: the service was 100 percent better. Charles ruled that area with an iron fist, so much so that, unlike most cruises, where you get to know your waiter and assistant waiter, and don't really know the head waiter of the section at all, we came to know Charles quite well. He was always there to complement our shirts, talk about shoes he had purchased in Italy, or provide food recommendations. Our waiter, Pande? We really didn't know him at all. That was okay, though. Charles was a big personality, and his staff clearly really liked him.

Gays know how to manage well.

There were other little touches, too. When we were at the Frog and the Onion in Bermuda, for example, we sat next to two of the guys who had been the entertainment on the cruise the night before. Clearly gay, and very friendly.

It was just...well, nice to feel that connection. That and the relaxed style of this Bermuda really made it something we would be happy to experience again.

The last day of the cruise, the Vice Principal and his silent partner had drinks with Corb and I, after dinner. They had maintained a respectful distance most of the trip, as had we. I think we were both aware that we both wanted to have our alone time as couples, but were also curious about the roommates we had just spent the last ten days with. It was a nice way to top off our journey and helped to kill the pain I feel when these cruises come to an end.

Sometimes, you just want to feel at home, even when you are far away from home.