A Ferry and a Can of Wine
I write to you now from a seat on board the Queen of Coquitlam. A majestic ferry boat, set to sail sea across the Strait of Georgia, from Vancouver Island to the mainland of British Columbia. Chock-full of anxious passengers, wrecked by this tumultuous holiday season, I have tucked into a quiet spot away from the hoi polloi. As the air horn blasts, I look out the window to see a towering tree line paint a charcoal silhouette across the canvas of a blank sky. Over the loudspeaker, an important message sounds from the Chief Steward.
“Good afternoon. I regret to inform you that we will not be serving gravy on this sailing. If you wished to order poutine, you will have to another time. I apologize for this inconvenience.”
As a collective groan builds up from the stern of the ship, crashing into the bow, I shake my head, pull out my laptop, and put on my noise-canceling headphones. A gentle sigh of relief does spread across my cheeks, however. Because if this is our greatest concern, this boat ride is already, much different than the last.
What a week this has been! After Claire and Mark’s Annual Festivus Shaker, two Wednesdays ago, I crawled into the back of an Uber enroute home. Judging from my cheerful state, the party was a complete success. As I strapped in my seat belt, I let out the gentlest burp of sparkling rosé. Relaxing into the backseat, I discovered my sweater was covered in cookie crumbs. Just as I began to revel in the magic of a Christmas, without public health restrictions, my peace was shattered by the driver.
“The storm is coming! The storm is coming!” he wailed.
“There will be much snow, there will be most ice, it will not be very nice!”
What is going on? I thought to myself. I did not recall taking drugs at the Festivus Shaker.
“Get out now to the grocery store!”
“Then lock yourself, inside the nearest door!”
Sobering up quickly, I asked him if we could add a stop to the nearest 7-11.
“Whatever you do, do not go out!”
“For you will regret it, without a doubt!”
Before I knew it, I woke up in bed the next morning, convinced I had dreamed the nightmare ride home. Rolling over to check my phone, however, I gasped when I read the forecast. The driver was right! A winter storm was set to roll in, and if the weather warning was right, there would be no chance I would make it to the Island on time for Christmas. If I was going to leave, I was going to have to leave now.
One bus ride into the mountains and three hours later, I rolled my suitcase on to the ferry’s main deck. Finding a seat inside, I was grateful just to have made it. Taking three deep breaths, I opened my meditation app, and proceeded to keep calm. Then, with renewed clarity and focus, I noticed a sign that read, “Now serving wine and beer!” Before a yogi could put their hands together and say “namaste,” I was in line at the dining quarters.
“For starters, the ambience was not ideal for the consummation of luxury canned wine.”
For over a decade now, I have dreamed of the day I could relax into a glass of wine, legally, on board. How civilized that time would be! Well, as it turns out, it was a touch more complicated than deciding between six ounces or nine. After presenting two pieces of ID to the kind kitchen staff, I ordered two glasses of red wine, one mandatory meal, and swore an oath I would not leave the designated drinking area. Filled with joy as my thirst was about to be quenched, I slid my tray over to the cashier.
“Happy Holidays!” I greeted them. “What a magnificent ship you have here!”
Looking down at my order, they punched a sequence of keys on the register, and then pointed at the total amount owing.
“FIFTY BUCKS!” I screamed. “Do you take credit?”
Well, as I squeezed into a seat in the brightly lit cafeteria, I can safely say, this was not what I had dreamed of. For starters, the ambience was not ideal for the consummation of luxury canned wine. With no ocean view, the prospect of watching the sunset was completely out of the question. And not to mention, as if on the clock, every five minutes my leg was hit by a rogue suitcase or screaming child. Did I make it work though? Of course, I did! Gratitude, after all.
…
Now, on my return home from a week spent with family on the Island, I am scheduled to arrive just in time to serve New Year’s Eve at the restaurant. I must sign-off for now, as we are reaching shore. I hope you and yours managed well this holiday week. I will see you in the year 2023.
