We planted our bums inside the tubes in the cool refreshing water and off we went with the gentle rapids through the Jamaica of yore. We cruised under a stone bridge built by the Spanish in the 17th century, and past a 200-year-old cottonwood tree, whose wood was once used by native Arawak Indians for their carved boats. Now and then the current would pick up and I’d spot my 79-year-old dad and my 10-year-old daughter whooping it up as they bounced off the rocks and each other.
This was the ideal I was searching for when I booked 10 members of my extended family on a Caribbean cruise last February. Indeed, tubing down this mountain river was the unanimous highlight of the trip. Yet, the reason we chose a cruise was not only the time we spent together, but also the time we spent apart. We each have our likes and dislikes and none of us felt compelled to be in each other’s company every waking moment of the day.
Days at sea, the two boys would hit the hot tubs under the big Jumbotron at one of the four pools and watch movies. Then they would amble over to the 15th deck to grab a slice of pizza and dessert at the ice cream parlor. The girls would be painting ceramics, swimming, or playing paddle ball on the top deck. My wife would be working out in the fitness center, taking a spin class, or indulging in a bamboo massage, where bamboo sticks are soaked in oil and rubbed against your body. Dad and Ginny enjoyed the lectures on art history and how to cook a decent gnocchi, while my sister, her husband, and I could be found reading on the 16th deck while a steel drummer played Calypso variations of classic Caribbean fare like “Copacabana.’’ I also liked swimming in one of the two adults-only pools at the fore of the ship.
