Caribbean Passion

Pablo and Lucia held hands as they ran through the Cafe Miramar and outside to the Lido Deck. Running up some steps, they arrived at the back of Fifth Deck, surrounded by deck chairs. A few passengers looked up to see them in their breathless state, so they slowed down and stopped by the railings overlooking the sea. They looked out at the moon and stars. The moonlight traced a wide sliver of light across the sea. It was a picture.

Pablo turned to Lucia. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, sure," answered Lucia. "I was afraid back there, I -"

"I know. I overheard him -- he was speaking so loudly."

"When did you see?"

"I came out when I heard him talking about you."

"He was upset about something I said at the Captain's Dinner."

Pablo looked surprised. "What did you say?"

"He was being rude about Lisa, the old Hostess. I think he'd been drinking already. Then the Captain sent him to the bar in front of the passengers at the table, so he already looked bad."

Pablo flared. "HE'S A LOSER! He shouldn't talk to you like that!" Pablo glared out at the sea.

Lucia smirked as she looked at him. "Well, thanks for defending my honour."

Pablo turned to her. "No, but he shouldn't talk to you like that. You're not like that, you're -- different."

Lucia raised one eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?" she asked. "How?"

"Well, you're -- you're not like Lisa and me. I mean -"

"And you?"

"No, like -- you're more worth it. Like, you shouldn't have to put up with that treatment because..." He trailed off.

"Because?'

"I mean..."

"Hmmm." Lucia looked at him in the eye. "Pablo, you're not being straight with me."

"I -" Pablo started. He stopped, turning his head away.

"So I'm worth it because I'm not like Lisa? Is that it?"

Pablo looked at her. "Well -"

"So if I WAS like her, I wouldn't be worth it."

"NO!"

"Is that what you mean?"

"No, it isn't!"

"Oh, well, thanks, Pablo, for a minute there I thought you cared, but I guess..." Lucia shrugged.

"No, Lucia!" Pablo grabbed her arms. "It's not like that!"

"WELL, WHAT IS IT, THEN, PABLO? Tell me, because I don't like what I'm hearing!"

"It's just that -" He let go of her shoulders. He looked down, pursed his lips, then turned away.

Lucia looked at him. "Pablo."

Pablo thought. If he told her, would she be mad?

"Pablo, there must have been a reason why you decided to save me; and what about 'Lisa and you'?"

Pablo sighed deeply, the turned back to her. "Lucia?"

She looked at him steadily.

"I'm a stripper."

Lucia raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Lisa and I worked in the same industry before. I don't know her -- I'd never met her before I came on the ship. I just bumped into her on the day she left, just as she was checking out to leave. She told me enough for me to know her background. We both have been in the sex industry. I'm a male stripper in sex clubs. She was a stripper, too."

Lucia stretched out her hands on the railing as she looked out to sea. "I see."

"It's just that -- she told me to leave you alone."

Lucia turned to him. "She did?"

"Yes. She warned me to keep my hands off and keep away from you."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because she's got experience in sex clubs. She knows guys like me. Plenty of guys in my position have women begging to go to bed with them. Women practically throw themselves at us."

"Let me guess -- you're not like that."

"I AM like that -- or, at least, I have been. I've been with lots of women -- and I mean LOTS. Lisa wasn't stupid. She knows my type."

"The Staff Captain thinks she was stupid," Lucia smiled.

"Stuff him!" retorted Pablo. "Anyway," he continued. "She told me you were class, that you were different, that I shouldn't treat you like that."

"Aha," said Lucia.

"I mean, that time in the Disco, I was stupid -- I just wanted -"

"I see." A small smile flickered on Lucia's lips.

"So then -- it's just that -- when I heard the Staff Captain call you those names, I felt really angry, and -"

"Uh-huh."

"So I -"

"Right." Lucia put her hand on his arm, smiling. "Thanks, Pablo."

"It's just that -"

"It's fine."

Pablo was surprised. He felt dumb, like he should be able to handle this but he felt like some dweeby teenage boy who'd never been kissed. What was going on?

"Well, perhaps you did defend me after all." She looked out at the waves. "I'm going on a shorex trip the day after tomorrow. Do you wanna come with me?"

Pablo smirked. This was more his style. Affecting a serious tone, he rubbed his chin. "Hmmm, well, I don't know, young lady -- I'm in demand -- I'll have to check my little black book."

Lucia punched his arm. "Give me a break."

Pablo laughed. "OK, fine. What time?"

"Eight thirty, sharp, at the gangway. Don't be late. If you snooze, you lose."

"You got it!"

"Well, we'd better be getting back to the Rendezvous. You're on with Estella!"

The next day, the "SS Oceanwave" was back in Port Canaveral. Dave Richards was back in the Chief Purser's office.

"What now?" he asked.

"More comments," Rachel Johnson replied, tossing three comment cards across her desk at the Cruise Director. "Apparently, some top guests witnessed a tense discussion at the Captain's Table last night. Some kind of disagreement between Lucia and the Staff Captain."

"I know about it," replied Richards, looking at Rachel.

"You do?"

"My Cruise Staff Marcia told me the Staff Captain had been drinking and was basically being obnoxious at the table."

"The comments say as much."

"He had been chewing out Lisa, apparently."

"Again? SHE'S LEFT!"

"Don't I know it! Yet, apparently, he doesn't. Well, he does, but he doesn't seem to want to let go of the topic."

"What is wrong with these Deck guys?" asked Rachel, exasperated.

"Lucia sounded reasonable, according to Marcia."

"Yeah, that's borne out by a comment by one of the honeymoon couples. They came to the Front Desk this morning to discuss it. They said she was quite civilized and tried to reason with Kostas. The wife said she and the other wife supported Lucia and said she was great."

"Hmmm. Well, at least that's something."

"The thing is, Dave, these are important passengers, not a bunch of cheap locals. These customers are paying big bucks to the company to come onboard, and the last thing they need to see is an argument at the Captain's Table on their honeymoon."

"I get it."

"One of the comments says they're thinking of making a complaint shoreside."

"Man," remarked Dave. "Do you think they will, in your guesstimate?"

Rachel thought for a moment. "Well, they weren't hugely angry, but their cruise was hugely expensive. I've got a feeling they will."

Dave Richards sighed. "Huh. Great. Well, you know what -- this isn't even my problem. My staff haven't done anything wrong. I'll talk to Lucia but this is the Deck Department. They can deal with it."

"Agreed," replied Rachel. "I'll take it up with the Captain today."

The Captain's office was spacious, with large windows, en suite bedroom, bathroom and an elegant coffee table area in the front corner of Fifth Deck, just adjacent to the stairs leading up to the Bridge. Captain Papandreiou sat at his desk, a computer in front of him to one side. He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands on the desk, opening them up in supplication, as Rachel Johnson sat opposite him. It was 10am.

"I'm sorry, Chief," began the Captain. "Kostas had a little too much to drink before dinner. He's a man's man and likes to make his opinions known."

"I see," replied Rachael, testily. "So a man's man basically slut-shames women in front of top-paying passengers and everyone at your Table and potentially the whole Barbizon Restaurant and the Maitre D', too, so that honeymooning passengers complain and the Social Hostess gets upset."

"Well, it's his style, you know -"

"Captain, with all due respect, stop making excuses for him. You don't need to explain to me. You can explain to Madson Banner when the passengers complain shoreside, which I think they will. I've already spoken to the Cruise Director, and he said Lucia Gonzalez was pretty delicate about the whole thing."

"Yeah, actually, she handled it better than I thought."

"Well this is your Department. Officially, Kostas is the boss of it, but you're the only person higher than him, so I think you should deal with it."

"OK," admitted the Captain. "I'll speak to him."

"The fact is, Captain, I'm getting sick of having to constantly smooth things over between the ship and shoreside. I know it's part of my job but there are other parts, too, and I've got better things to do than deal with this junk."

"OK, OK," continued Dmitri. "I'll get on it and speak to him as soon as I can."

"Thank you. I just hope shoreside don't get wind of this."

Edward was on the Front Desk at the Pursers Office. He pressed the button on the PA for the below decks speakers. "Social Hostess to the Pursers Office, please, Social Hostess to the Pursers Office, thank you."

"Thanks, Edward," smiled Dave Richards, who was standing in front of the counter. "Tell, her to meet me in the Miramar."

Edward looked up at him. "Got it."

Dave Richards walked off to the staircase and climbed to the next deck.

Twenty minutes later, Lucia was there and in deep conversation with Richards.

"I felt threatened," said Lucia. "Especially when he tried to grab me."

"Sure, definitely," said Dave, understandingly.

"He was drunk and smelled bad. His attitude towards me was really abusive, and to women in general."

"Go on."

"The worst was when he called me a 'cheap, gold-digging prostitute'."

"Whoa." Dave Richards moved back a little at the table where he and Lucia were sitting.

"That's when Pablo stepped in."

"Pablo overheard you."

"Yeah, he did. He defended me -- actually, he was great. I don't want you to yell at him because he saved me from danger."

"OK, but you're saying he pushed Kostas on the floor?"

"Kostas was already staggering around and looked like he would have fallen anyway. He toppled forward towards me, and he was being threatening, so Pablo pushed him back."

"In anger?"

"Well, he WAS angry but I think he was mainly concerned with protecting me and getting Kostas away. Kostas fell back against the railings and ended up on the floor."

"Was he injured?"

"No. He tried to get up but I think he basically gave up and continued lying on the floor."

"Then what?"

"Then Pablo and I ran away!"

"Hmmm." Richards looked at her. "This is all I need -- more headaches."

"I'm sorry, Dave."

"No, it's not you; in fact, you did good. Some passengers reported that you handled everything pretty well."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. You got some positive comments from the two honeymoon wives at the Captain's Table."

Lucia perked up. "Oh, great -- they were pretty supportive."

"It seems so. Now the Chief Purser thinks some of the guests at the Table will complain, though."

"Oh!"

"Not those ones but maybe some of the others."

Lucia tutted and looked away.

"Don't worry," replied Richards. "Let me handle this. The Staff Captain's a Departmental Head and so am I. This is my level, not yours."

Lucia put her hand up to her eyes. She could feel herself choking up and tears stung at her eyes. "I feel -"

Richards put his hand on her other hand. "Hey. Don't sweat it. I know it feels bad; but you did good, really good."

Tears rolled down Lucia's cheeks. "Thanks, but -"

"Let me handle it. Don't you worry. I'll get this sorted."

"OK." Lucia looked at him, her eyes red.

"Take it easy. Go back to your cabin and relax. You're not on until tonight. Take some time out."

"Right." She sighed deeply.

"All right. Take care of yourself. I'll deal with this." Dave looked around the Cafe Miramar. "I've got to go. You go on back downstairs. I got this." He looked at her. "I'll see you later."

Lucia nodded. She watched him stand up and walk out.

North Atlantic Boulevard was a wide street in Port Canaveral. On the north side of the street stood a one-storey building, one of many corporate offices that lined the street, together with a series of restaurants, pet shops, hairdressing salons and florists. A medium-sized, red saloon car eased into the driveway, turned into an available parking space, then stopped. The sound of the handbrake being applied was heard. A man and a woman got out.

"Right, let's do this," said the man.

Entering the front floor, they found themselves in the reception area. An attractive woman, aged about thirty-two, with glasses, greeted them.

"Hi, welcome to Florida Tropical Cruise Line. May I help you?"

The couple walked up to the counter. "Yes," said the man. "We would like to make a complaint."

Back on the ship, the door to the Captain's Office on Fifth Deck was suddenly flung open, banging against the wall behind. "Where's that dumb Hostess?" demanded Staff Captain Kostas, emerging, the Captain behind.

"Kostas!" exclaimed the Captain. "Don't make a fuss!"

"Dmitri, these women are trash. Admit it!"

"You're the Staff Captain, not the Captain, Kostas -- and you want to know why?" The Captain jabbed a finger at the Staff Captain. "You can't do my job, that's why. You don't get to be Captain just by having a Captain's licence. If it was just that, I've got five captains on board -- you, me and the other duty Deck Officers. Anybody could do my job. As it is, there's responsibility -- and where there's responsibility, there's politics."

"That's not my concern -- that's yours. You deal with it!"

"KOSTAS!"

"I'm the Staff Captain -- I'm the boss of the Deck Department. Those three other Captains are under me, not you. That's four against one."

"This isn't a democracy. The ship's run like the Navy, and in the Navy people take orders; and the one who gives the orders is me, not you. YOU DO AS I SAY!"

"Don't you think it's bad we've got a bunch of would-be prostitutes on board?"

"That's NONE of your business!"

"Back home, men wouldn't stand for it."

"You're not in Greece, Kostas. You're in America, and you're AT WORK!"

"I don't think -"

"KEEP AWAY from the women -- and the bar! THAT'S AN ORDER!" The Captain slammed the door in Kostas' face.

The Staff Captain glared at the door for a few moments, then spun on his heel and stormed off.

The tall, blonde, twenty-seven-year-old American woman with the long hair and business suit stood at the Pursers' Office. Chief Purser Rachel Johnson came out behind the Front Desk.

"Hi, Daphne," began Rachel. "How are things at the office?"

"Nothing to report," replied the woman. "Hey, do you mind if I have a word?"

"Sure, go ahead. What's up?"

"Er, could I speak to you in your office?"

"Oh, sure. Come around the back."

"Thanks."

Rachel moved into the back office. "Edward, man the Front Desk for a second. I have a visitor."

The skinny Brit looked up. "Sure," he responded. Edward walked out to the front.

Daphne appeared at the back door.

"Come on in," said Rachel. She led Daphne into her office, where she took up her usual position, while Daphne sat opposite her. "What can I do for you?"

"There's been a complaint," announced Daphne.

Already, thought Rachel. "Really?"

"Yeah. This honeymoon couple came to the office to talk about something that went down at the Captain's Dinner."

"Aha," remarked Rachel.

"Do you know about it?"

"I do." So Rachel told the whole story of what happened, or at least as much as she knew -- reports of the Staff Captain's behaviour, his drunkenness, Lucia's response, the attitude of the other passengers at the Table.

"Whew!" remarked Daphne, when the Chief Purser had finished. "What's up with Kostas?"

"I dunno. It's just a bunch of macho garbage."

"All that manly Greek machismo!"

"Tell me about it -- bunch of misogynistic, half-brained brutes!"

"You're quite the feminist, Rachel."

"I am, Daphne. It keeps me sane. Too much testosterone below decks - gotta do something to even it out."

"Definitely! Yet when they go out, they still can't find any action!"

"Yeah, right!"

"Like any woman gonna say yes to them! Phew!" Daphne thought. "So what have you done so far?"

"I had a meeting with the Captain this morning and brought it up."

"Oh, yeah?"

"He made excuses at first but I got him to promise to talk to Kostas about it, on pain of the office finding out."

"The office has already found out."

"I know."

"Has he talked to him yet?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard anything yet."

"I see."

"Then I spoke to Dave, who said he would discuss it with Lucia."

"Oh, wow. How did that go?"

"I haven't seen Dave since this morning. My staff are dealing with the new passengers, so I haven't had time to follow up."

"Don't worry about it, Rachel. I'll take a walk around and found out the latest. Thanks, anyway. Catch you later."

"OK," replied Rachel.

Ten minutes later, Daphne was in the Barbizon Restaurant interviewing the Maitre D'. Twenty minutes after that, she cornered Dave Richards in the Rendezvous.

"Kostas was an idiot," he said, bluntly. "Totally unnecessary."

"Right."

"The thing is, he could be on the warpath. Pablo the dancer defended Lucia and there was a minor physical altercation."

"Wow, really?' asked Daphne, her eyes widening, eyebrows raised.

"On a personal level, I can't fault him -- at his age, I would have done the same. On a professional level, perhaps, he could have just walked off with Lucia without the physical aspect."

"I get it."

"I gathered from Lucia that Kostas was blind drunk, anyway, so was practically ready to fall over. Plus we need to take into an account that he was verbally aggressive. His language was sexual in content, so I consider Pablo's response fairly reasonable. We could spin it as him helping the Staff Captain to not fall over, plus defending Lucia."

"Uh-huh."

"He fell over backwards, which makes Pablo look a little worse."

"True."

"The sexual language is serious, though -- in a court of law, that would count as harassment. Lucia's Brazilian, not a US citizen, but even so..."

"Right, sure. Did any passengers witness it?"

"Not the physical confrontation, as far as I know. The complaints were about the Captain's Dinner the night before."

"I see. Well, thanks, Dave."

Dave looked up at Daphne. "Glad I could help."

After taking her leave of Richards, Daphne now had to face the unpleasant task of confronting the Staff Captain. She sighed as she climbed the staircase to Fifth Deck. Bypassing the Captain's quarters, she pushed through a Fire Screen Door to climb a further staircase. No higher decks than Fifth were on the ship, yet this one led higher. Arriving at the head of the narrower staircase, she found herself in the Radio Room. The Navigation Officer looked up. "Where's the Staff Captain?" asked Daphne.

"Outside on Fifth Deck," he replied.

"Thanks." Daphne walked through a further door, finally arriving on the Bridge, where one of the three Deck Officers was on duty. She briefly gazed out of the front windows, her hands alighting for a brief moment on the Ship's Wheel, a miniature version of a traditional one, complete with multiple handles arranged around a circle, only this one was metal and painted white. The view from the Bridge satisfied her -- the awesome height, the uninterrupted view of the Fore Deck, with its ropes and capstans and old-fashioned metal anchor, similarly painted white, then the expanse of water defining Port Canaveral, leading out to the untold adventures of the sea.

Smiling, she nodded at the Deck Officer, then walked out of the side door to an outside platform made of metal, surrounded by railings, once again white. Descending the steps, she felt a light breeze as she returned to Fifth Deck, yet this time on the outside. Little did she know it but she was in the same deckchair-bestrewn area where Pablo had arranged a date with Lucia. The Staff Captain was leaning over the railings opposite to where Pablo and Lucia had been and was busy yelling at some deckhands swabbing the deck on Fourth.