By Jeanni Ritchie
I had always imagined myself walking onto a cruise ship in a flowing dress, ready to be invited to the captain’s table. Growing up, Saturday nights meant The Love Boat on TV while my sister Sherri and I had our hair rolled in toilet paper and bobby pins for Sunday morning church. Those nights planted a lifelong dream in me—a dream I never quite managed to make happen for myself—but one my sister never forgot.
So last Christmas, she surprised me with a gift that checked all the boxes: a Christmas gift, a birthday gift, and what I like to call a freedom gift. Down to the onboard credit she tucked in, she made sure I could swipe my sail-and-sign card freely. Post-trip, I joked with her that my cruise card stopped working for purchases!
When I finally stepped onto the Carnival Valor in New Orleans, I couldn’t help but glance around for Isaac, Gopher, Julie, and especially Captain Stubing. My Love Boat dream had finally come to life.
All Aboard
From the moment we arrived at the cruise terminal until we pulled away from the New Orleans port, it was smooth sailing (pun intended). No wonder it’s a billion-dollar industry—cruising is a well-oiled machine.
Boarding was seamless, the energy contagious. I paused to snap a photo of my first step on the massive Carnival Valor—ironically one of their smaller ships, but it felt enormous to me. (I should have worn my pedometer as proof that I walked the equivalent of 49 Boston marathons that week!)
Our group of eight explored waterslides, theatres, pools, dining options, and even the library. While my sister Sherri and her husband Scott were seasoned cruisers, my son Cody and I were on our maiden voyages. Joined by his fiancée Amanda—a cruise vet herself—and my niece Emma, nephew CJ, and his fiancée Cheyenne, it was a family vacation filled with memories.
Elevators were often crowded—though I never minded the wait for the see-through glass ones that overlooked the American Lobby and atrium. I called them the “Willy Wonka” elevators. My 8th-floor veranda balcony became my daily beginning and ending sanctuary, where every morning started with a devotion and every night ended with the sound of waves below.
I spent very little time in the room in between!
Life at Sea
The first night was packed with entertainment: the Iron String Trio playing pop classics on violins (the irony of hearing my wedding song on Night 1 was not lost on me), Guitar Loops with Carlos belting “Free Fallin’,” the Night Birds with their variety show flair, and Piano Bar fun with Gustavo—funny, talented, and ready for any request.
The Ivanhoe Theatre’s “Welcome Aboard” show gave a taste of what was to come. This. Is. What. I. Came. For.
From that night forward, I didn’t miss a single show.
That first night, I pulled on pajamas and sat on my balcony for an hour, waves below, stars above, before turning in. I finally saw the slogan “Where Sky Meets Sea” with my own eyes, hearing the waves as if they were the soundtrack to my soul.
Day 2, I woke up to nothing but endless waves. The ocean whispered, slow down, slow down, and I listened, matching my breathing to the movement below.
Breakfast in the dining hall led to hours of alone time, reading and napping on Deck 10, followed by ship adventures: pub games, Seuss-a-Palooza parade, “Guess That Song” trivia (which I won on a Gunpowder and Lead tie-breaker thanks to my Miranda Lambert phase two years ago), and a little bingo.
Dinner was “casual elegant,” so we dressed up for Table 334, our spot for the week in the very back of the ship overlooking the water. Despite going in separate directions most days, we came together for dinner each evening.
While the Captain didn’t dine in the dining hall (no invite to dinner at the Captain’s table), I did snag a photo with him!
Studio VIP, a 70s-themed production, was incredible. Cody enjoyed the shows as much as I did. Later, the whole family reunited at Punchliners Comedy Club, laughing with Roman, who I enjoyed a great post-show conversation with. The night ended with Sherri and me at a dive-in showing of The Great Gatsby under the stars.
Ports of Call
Cozumel was pure paradise. We booked Paradise Beach Resort: all-inclusive food, shopping, pools, inflatables, and surf play. I had endless shrimp washed down with orange soda and floated for hours on a pool ring, anchored in the ocean so it never drifted away. It was magical to feel one with the sea. Even a sudden rain shower couldn’t ruin it—we were already wet, so why not dance in the rain? I left with a Cozumel beach bag and sticker for my scrapbook.
Back on board that evening, I joined Cody and Amanda for Deal or No Deal in the theatre, then Guess That Groove (a cruise-ship “Name That Tune”). Chosen to perform on stage, my team won, netting me another “ship on a stick” trophy. Comedy, arcade games, VR monster shooting, live music with the Barn Boys, and foosball (where my son trounced me) rounded out the night.
Progreso gave me my culture fix. I joined an open-air bus tour, bouncing along through town to a beach resort surrounded by lush greenery. Unlimited food, cushioned beds, and a narrated ride back through the Yucatán’s history left me captivated. A downpour hit during shopping, but I embraced it, dripping wet with souvenirs in hand. My grandsons are going to love the maracas as much as their parents will hate me for them!
That night brought trivia, pool time, family dinner, America Rocks in the theatre, and, of course, another balcony unwind.
Final Day at Sea
I made the most of every second of the last day. I woke to the sunrise over my balcony, then joined my family for hot tubs, buffets, and poolside lounging. I leaned into my soda package—the servers knew me as the girl who always wanted her Coke in a cocktail glass.
The day brimmed with trivia (Friends, 90s hits), lazy hours on the Lido deck, and soaking in every detail. That night I read my book by the pool until midnight, even dozing under the stars in a lounge chair, before heading back to my room. I detoured through the Willy Wonka elevators, riding up and down three times, listening to music and not wanting the night to end.
Reflection
Debarkation morning came too soon. I hated for the cruise to end, but the memories will last a lifetime. Like many on the ship, I was already dreaming of my next cruise before we even reached land.
At 56, I finally crossed off that longstanding bucket list item, though I know I’ll certainly go again.
This cruise was more than just a vacation. It was a reminder that dreams can circle back when you least expect them, that sisterly love can make them real, and that sometimes the girl who grew up watching The Love Boat really does get her seat—if not at the captain’s table, then at the table of gratitude and joy.
