Code RED! – Luxury Ghost ship found drifting in Alaskan Sea!

The sun is radiating a warming 26 degree heat warming the teak decks of the sleek white Ocean Liner, a warm breeze sneaks around the glistening stainless steel railings to blow ripples across the topside pools and spa’s. The deck chairs are in perfect alignment with no evidence of recent habitation. In the buffet, perfectly laid out lobster tails sit next to cold prawns the size of rats, not a single one is missing to indicate human presence.  The colourful and creamy Petit Fours may never realize their purpose of titillating the human palate.

The only perceptible movement is the sharp left to right snapping of the eyes of the crew protecting the food from being infected by the potentially diseased hands of the few passengers brave enough to expose themselves to the tainted surfaces and air of the deathly quiet ship.

The normally bubble milieu of white dressed crew and less than appropriately dressed passengers is a distant memory captured in cheap digital cameras.

Alert eyes snap left as the high-pitched mechanical sound of the electronic dispenser of hand sanitizer breaks the silence to indicate that another brave soul is on deck in search of untainted food.

This is life on a ship with an escalating number of passengers now affected by the debilitating Noro Virus. There are over 70 passengers in cabin lock-down and an unspecified number of crew. Many live shows have been cancelled as several key singers are missing.

This virus has primary symptoms of gastroenteritis and vomiting and is highly infectious with a lifecycle of about three days. The loss of fluids and dehydration are the life threatening elements of the virus for the elderly that make up a large component of the passenger manifest. The frail have been asked to limit their time in public spaces for a few days but thankfully my comparative youth and fitness will now pay dividends.

Yesterday, across the usually busy Atrium foyer, we saw a passenger collapse to the ground, vomit a vegetable soupish fluid in an enlarging circle and then fall unconscious into its perimeter. The vigilant staff reaction was immediate to both assist the passenger medically and clean up ground zero. The level of illness of the passenger was such that an immediate medical evacuation was required. A Code “A” medical emergency rang out through the ship and passengers were asked to clear all corridors.  What passengers were in what corridors? I could see no-one

The arrival of a helicopter, some 40 minutes later, in the middle of the ocean was serious, sad and intriguing. For those familiar with the Dawn Princess, the helicopter approached the stern of the ship and hovered above the gym on deck 14. The sick person was winched up from the rear sun area outside the gym. To prepare for this, the stern section of the ship was completely evacuated from deck 14 to deck 10. All passengers, including those in the steerage cabins to the rear of the ship, had to move to the forward public areas but could not go on deck. This was risk mitigation in case the helicopter crashed into the rear of the ship during the evacuation. Whoever wrote the “Helicopter Evacuation Passenger Movement Policy” watches too much TV.

The helo-lift went without a problem. As a consequence of this passenger’s extreme level of illness the ship has moved to Code RED medical alert.

Further passenger restrictions and absolutely no contact with food or utensils in the restaurants are in place. You have to ask a waiter to salt your food, as there are no condiments on tables. If you want vegemite on your toast, a blue-gloved crew-member hands you a sealed pod of vegemite at the end of a long pair of black sterilized tongs. The entire ship is now being sterilized by washing down walls and floors etc. The deck chairs have had the cushions removed in fear of what they may harbour beyond old sweat and old people’s dead skin

The ship cannot land at any further ports until the virus is contained. 

The psychological pressure this environment builds is near boiling point. I have observed several passengers abuse staff about not being able to serve themselves or salt their own food. At a normally self serve coffee station, now staffed by a vigilant rubber gloved waiter, one passenger pushed the waiter out of the way to make their own coffee whilst delivering a tirade of abuse about the stupidity of the restrictions. The result of this was the whole coffee station was closed to be re- sterilized.

The above is certainly the way that the ships grapevine describes our medical lock down but the reality is that the ship has excellent procedures to contain and remove the virus with co-operation between the passengers and crew. 

In a few days it will be all over, Virus or humanity?