Our last full day

Saturday, January 5, 2008. I wake slowly, around 7:20, ten minutes before I’d set my alarm to go off. We want to be up and presentable, or at least semi-presentable, when room service delivers our breakfast at 8:00.

This is day eight of our vacation, a day of multiple mixed emotions. It’s the last full day of our trip, but still a full day. It promises Castaway Cay, tropical island paradise, sand and sea… and packing for the trip home, our last night on the ship, knowing that the fairy tale comes to an end tomorrow – or at least gets put on “hold” until we can get back here again.

I do what I can to put aside the impending feelings of melancholy that go with the end of a wonderful Disney vacation – and then laugh to myself as I realize the parallel with the four stages of grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, acceptance.

I choose to live today merrily in denial.

Because when we turned in last night we weren’t having to deal with the rough seas of the first night, we went ahead and sealed off the boy’s sleeping room from the living room, so Bob could be up early without disturbing them, and left the doors to our master bedroom unlatched, so they'd have access to a bathroom.

We soon discover that Brandon is also awake. He lets himself into our room so he can go through our closet/hallway and into the main area, all so he can go out on the veranda without waking his brother.

He’s back in just a couple of minutes to report: “We’re, like, there!” – already docked at Castaway Cay!

The ship’s distinctive horn sounds at that moment as if to confirm his report.

I throw on some sweats and a t-shirt and follow Brandon out onto the veranda, squinting as my eyes adjust to the light. Bob and Linda are already out, watching the well-choreographed hubbub below. There is lots of activity on the dock, as supplies are offloaded, gangways attached, and everything is done that needs to be done to prepare the island for our arrival.

It speaks to the amount of work that is done that it is usually an hour-and-a-half to two hours between our arrival and the time cruisers can go onshore. But when we arrive, we find a beautiful, well-maintained island with everything geared for our enjoyment of the “quintessential island experience” and almost nothing out of place. There is no trace of the thousand-plus of other cruisers from the Disney Magic who descended on the island just yesterday or the day before, or of the many others who have visited, three shiploads per week.

Bob reports that he was up at dawn again, “helping Captain Henry to dock the ship.” It’s a long-running tradition he has, since he’s up early anyway, to watch the proceedings from above the wing of the bridge and “help” the captain and officers as they come into the port – at least by providing moral support.

This time, Bob even got an appreciative wave from Captain Henry.