There are stormy sea days, and then there are ones where precautions are taken. You know the difference . . .
When there seems to be fewer people out and about because some of them are hugging commodes in their staterooms.
When the Captain comes on and says all swimming pools will be emptied before the water sloshes out of them. I checked this; and, sure enough, every pool is bone dry.
When the line dancing lessons are cancelled, because everybody is already swaying to and fro.
When the dancers and singers at the nightly review are reduced to one pianist with the ship’s orchestra backing her up.
When passengers show up for mindless entertainment such as pony races using wooden horses on sticks whose fate is determined by a roll of the dice. Ironically, they played this game the first time I crossed the Atlantic over fifty years ago.
And, finally, you know you’re experiencing hurricane winds when the seven foot tall waterfall created from plastic stemware and filled with free Champagne is postponed indefinitely.