Quiet departure...?

Note: Sorry that my usual trickle of posts has dwindled to a drip in recent days. I was out of town this past week competing with the Vocal Majority chorus (full story at The World of Wombat) and I fell behind on writing the trip report. I've caught up enough now that I can resume the usual, um, trickle. Thanks for your patience.

We step out onto Deck 10, and the cold wind hits us with a blast. Combined with the icy drizzle, it’s pretty miserable weather – but my spirits are flying high. Our cruise is about to really get underway!

We walk along the starboard rail until we are in front of the forward funnel. It’s bizarrely quiet, given that on previous trips music from the deck party was blaring. Here we have only the whistling wind. There are only a few other souls wandering around, unlike the hundreds hugging the rail in normal weather.

In the absence of the usual Mickey-led countdown from the stage below, I check my Mickey watch – it is almost 5:00. Bob and I are steeling ourselves to be surprised by the “When You Wish Upon a Star” horn. It should be really loud without any other noises around.

Without any fanfare – or horn – we look down to the terminal building below us and see that the ship has started moving laterally away from the dock. It’s kind of surreal, at least compared to the normal departure. There’s no band and no characters (at least not up here!). There are hardly any people. Looking down to the terminal, which is now noticeable begin to slip away as we build forward momentum, there are no DCL cast members with Mickey gloves on waving goodbye. It’s cold, wet, and very, very quiet.

But watching this 83,000-ton vessel leave port is still incredible.

There still has been no horn. Usually it’s timed with the deck party countdown, right when we begin to pull away from the dock, but that time has passed. The Disney terminal is well behind us now. Surely they’re not going to skip the horn?

In concession to the weather, Bob goes down to the more wind-shielded Deck 9 and finds a dry spot to wait. Brandon heads up towards the bow of the ship, I’m guessing to have a “I’m king of the world” moment to himself. Still no horn.

Finally, even my “this is no big deal I grew up in Colorado” disdain for the weather crumbles, and I go down to Deck 9 to join Bob. We’re still in front of the horn, still outside, but just a bit more shielded from the cold.

The ship is turning east down the Port Canaveral channel to the ocean, and I’m about to give up waiting and go walk around, when Captain Henry comes over the speakers to announce that the ship’s horn is about to sound. The handful of people around us cover their ears tightly. I do not.

Seconds slip by. Knowing that it’s coming, but not exactly when, is a delicious kind of anticipation –

BOM- BOM- BOM- BOM- BOM- BOM- BOOOOOOOOM!!

It is loud.

It is AWESOME.

Okay, not covering my ears may not have been the brightest thing, standing in front of a ship's horn. Disney fanatic that I am, though, I figure that there are worse things in life than having “When You Wish Upon a Star” ringing in my ears!