Written in part by Lumen Aid, roving reporter

After the Pacific spent the previous day reminding everyone aboard Celebrity Summit exactly Who was in charge, Puerto Vallarta appeared on the horizon under remarkably different circumstances on the 4th of October.

Calm water.

Blue sky.

Mountains rising beyond the shoreline.

And, after Hurricane Rachel had spent some time attempting to rewrite the itinerary, an excursion that was actually going to happen.

Jeannie called the forecast “a gift.”

This reporter sees no reason to improve upon that description.

There is something rather amusing about arriving in a foreign country aboard a cruise ship.

For Jeannie and Skip, Puerto Vallarta was a long-awaited port of call on a Panama Canal adventure.

Just beyond Summit’s railing?

Walmart.

Sam’s Club.

Traffic.

People buying groceries, going to work and carrying on with an ordinary Sunday while several thousand visitors floated into their neighborhood looking for adventure.

Vacation, it turns out, is largely a matter of perspective.

Pressing the Down Button Has Its Advantages

Before venturing ashore, Skip provided an opportunity to appreciate one of Summit’s less-advertised scenic attractions: the elevators.

They are glass.

And when a ship is docked beside mountains like these, an elevator ride becomes a sightseeing excursion all its own.

There are certainly worse ways to change decks.

Soon Jeannie and Skip were ashore, sporting excursion stickers and sun hats and ready to see what the Editor in Chief had put into the day that no itinerary could possibly describe in advance.

And then Skip found it.

A tsunami evacuation sign.

Astute readers may recognize the beginning of a theme.

Apparently when Skip encounters a tsunami warning sign, the proper response is not alarm.

It is photography.

Your roving reporter will continue monitoring this behavior as the voyage progresses.

Beyond the Tourist View

A bus carried the group through Puerto Vallarta, where resort Mexico and everyday Mexico sometimes appeared almost side by side.

Jeannie found herself noticing the contrast between those who appeared to have plenty and those who clearly had much less.

It brought back memories of a mission trip to Cuba in 2007 and people she encountered there who, despite having very little materially, did not seem to consider themselves victims.

Travel occasionally does that.

You leave home expecting to see another place and discover that the place quietly asks you to examine your own.

Then came one of the most meaningful stops of the day.

The church.

Jeannie and Skip stepped inside, and amid the soaring columns, gold details, flowers, statues and stained glass, something mattered far more to them than architecture.

They sensed the presence of the Lord on a Sunday in one of His churches.

Different country.

Different language.

Different traditions.

Same God.

The One who had displayed His power so dramatically in the Pacific only hours before was just as present in a quiet sanctuary in Puerto Vallarta.

The Editor in Chief had inserted another scene.

From Sanctuary to Tequila

And then, because this particular itinerary possessed impressive range, the next chapter involved tequila.

Welcome to Río Bendito.

The setting was lush and green, tucked against the hills, with enormous trees and tropical vegetation surrounding the gathering area.

There were six tequila samples.

Before anyone begins imagining six shot glasses lined up across the table, your roving reporter has verified the mathematics. These were tasting portions — together probably amounting to roughly a shot and a half, perhaps two at most.

This was research.

Thorough research.

Cultural research.

The afternoon also included fajitas and a full Mexican fiesta.

Then the costumes became considerably more colorful.

Music, swirling skirts, traditional dress and tropical surroundings provided the sort of visual evidence a roving reporter appreciates.

Hurricane Rachel had threatened the day.

Instead, there was this.

Prepared for Anything

Rain was part of the forecast, so Jeannie and Skip came prepared with the appropriate gear.

Anyone familiar with Jeannie’s developing weather philosophy knows that carrying an umbrella appears to substantially reduce the likelihood that she will actually need one, known as her Umbrella Theory.

Rain jackets apparently are covered under the “umbrella” of the umbrella theory, pun intended.

There may be insufficient peer-reviewed research supporting this theory, but the field results remain promising, rain in the surrounding area, no rain on Jeannie and Skip, rain jackets never deployed.

More importantly, Jeannie saw something else in the day.

The favor of God.

Not because every vacation day must be sunny.

Not because plans must always work exactly as intended.

The Pacific had already settled that question.

But after watching circumstances that could easily have changed this port call altogether, they were standing in Puerto Vallarta enjoying exactly the day they had been given.

Not the day they controlled.

The day they were given.

Back to Their Floating Home

Eventually the excursion ended and Summit waited where they had left her.

By now that ship was feeling less like transportation and considerably more like home.

There would be an evening show, a margarita afterward and their familiar late seating in the main dining room.

But Puerto Vallarta had already supplied plenty for one chapter.

Calm water where there had been rough seas.

Ordinary life continuing beyond the cruise terminal.

Mountains framed through a glass elevator.

A tsunami sign that Skip could not possibly walk past without posing.

A sanctuary where two travelers sensed the presence of God.

Tequila.

Fajitas.

Dancers.

And another reminder that the best parts of a journey are rarely found entirely in the itinerary.

Jeannie and Skip had made the plans.

Celebrity had arranged the excursion.

But, as always on Island Time Travels,

the Editor in Chief supplied the story.

Some days announce themselves with a landmark.

Others announce themselves by making it unexpectedly difficult to walk in a straight line.

October 3 was one of those days.

Celebrity Summit was making her way toward Puerto Vallarta, and the Pacific had decided to become an active participant in the itinerary. Large swells rolled beneath the ship, especially noticeable on the higher decks, and ordinary walking took on the look of an unscheduled balance exercise.

The pools were closed. Tropical disturbances in the region were being watched. Puerto Vallarta plans for the following day were still intact, but subject to change.

And through it all, Summit carried on.

From this reporter’s vantage point, one of the most reassuring parts of the day was how little drama there was from the ship and crew.

The Pacific was doing plenty.

Summit did not seem impressed.

She pressed ahead under the captain’s expert guidance, while the crew went about their work with the calm competence that tells passengers, without needing to say a word, that everything is under control.

Jeannie and Skip noticed it.

Their confidence in both the ship and the people caring for her grew as the seas became more energetic.

The photographs do not quite capture the day.

Ocean swells are surprisingly difficult to photograph. A still image shows wake, white water and a restless surface. It does not show the floor shifting beneath your feet or the slight recalculation required every time you change direction.

That may be just as well.

Jeannie was grateful to the Lord that His display of power on His Pacific Ocean did not provide more dramatic photographic opportunities.

Trying to walk a straight line was enough adventure.

An Early Start

The day had begun long before the sea became particularly lively.

Jeannie was up at 4:50 AM ship time.

Her body, thanks to the time-zone change, thought it was 3:50.

She had set an alarm for 6:00 so she could complete strength training in the cabin and get to the gym early enough to claim one of the very popular treadmills.

There was just one flaw in the plan.

Her phone, still in airplane mode, had not changed time zones.

Had she depended on it, she would have “overslept.”

Fortunately, Jeannie’s internal clock appears to be a more dependable piece of travel technology than her iPhone.

While it was still dark outside, and while the seas were at their calmest for the day, she completed her strength training in the cabin.

Then came the climb from Deck 6 to Deck 10 for a brisk 30-minute treadmill walk.

Afterward, she headed down to Deck 5 and Café al Bacio for bottled water, black coffee for herself and a vanilla latte for Skip.

A productive morning.

And excellent timing.

Later, the stairs would become much less appealing.

Summit: The Floating Stair Stepper

Normally, cruise ships provide more stair-climbing opportunities than most people manage at home.

On this day, Summit took the concept to another level.

The ship had become, in effect, a moving stair-stepper.

Unfortunately, moving staircases and rolling seas are not an ideal combination.

Jeannie and Skip quickly decided that fitness goals could yield to common sense.

The elevators were safer.

No exercise point is worth taking an involuntary trip down a staircase.

Advanced Bicep Work

Jeannie did manage one additional form of strength training.

At the Oceanview Café on Deck 10 aft, she practiced bicep curls by lifting an ice cream cone.

A strenuous undertaking.

Strictly therapeutic.

While passengers attempted to navigate the moving ship, the situation changed from dancing to the oldies to the oldies dancing across the deck.

There were people trying to balance.

There were plates to protect.

There were calorie-laden “medicinal” delights at stake.

Heroic efforts were made.

Front-Row Seats to the Pacific

Because moving around the ship required more concentration than usual, Jeannie and Skip spent more time in their cabin.

That turned out to be an excellent place to be.

Their cabin is on Deck 6, midship, where the motion was less pronounced than on the higher decks.

They also have a balcony.

Even better, the angle of the sun kept it shaded.

So while the Pacific continued to roll and surge outside, Jeannie and Skip settled into front-row seats from the comfort of their climate-controlled cabin.

Jeannie sat at the cabin desk, iPad nearby, with the balcony and the restless ocean close at hand with Skip making good use of the cabin chair and small table as he and Jules worked on a project together.

It was not a day for racing from one activity to another.

It was a day for watching.

And there was plenty to watch.

The Pacific was magnificent.

Powerful.

Restless.

Beautiful.

For Jeannie, the grandeur of the ocean naturally pointed beyond itself.

God was present on the water, in the water, above the water and below the water.

And, as she reflected, He chooses to be present in her too.

There are times when creation makes a person feel very small.

Not insignificant.

Just appropriately small.

Something Almost Unheard Of

The early awakening and the steady rocking of Summit eventually accomplished something unusual.

Jeannie took a nap.

Not a brief doze.

More than an hour.

This is noteworthy because Jeannie is not a napper.

At all.

Apparently the Pacific found a loophole.

She woke rested and relaxed, grateful for the pause and trusting that God was taking good care of them and the entire Summit family.

Music While the Ocean Kept Moving

That evening, contemporary violinist Doug Cameron provided the entertainment in the Theatre from deck 4. Here the motion was much less significant and God had begun to calm the seas.

The violinist delivered a versatile mix of music with remarkable skill, and the audience responded with a well-deserved standing ovation.

Jeannie and Skip also continued to encounter Marguerite and Jim, a couple they first met at the hotel before boarding.

Marguerite and Jim live in The Villages in Florida, which immediately provided another connection.

Jeannie and Skip are headed there next month with their Airstream.

The principal reason for that trip is for Skip to race his sailboat in a regatta.

Jeannie’s role appears to be somewhat less strenuous.

The Airstream itself is named ChILL.

Changes In Latitude Likely.

An excellent name for a traveling home.

Contact information has been exchanged, although the higher seas kept everyone a bit more to themselves on this particular day.

Jules Makes a Prediction

Jules, Skip’s AI assistant, had warned that the seas would be clamoring for attention throughout the day and overnight.

The seas were indeed clamoring.

The next day’s Puerto Vallarta arrival time remained uncertain.

Some beach excursions were already being revised or canceled. Jeannie and Skip did not yet know whether their sightseeing bus excursion with lunch would be affected.

The captain and senior officers would determine arrival timing and any necessary changes.

Nobody onboard Jeannie and Skip’s cabin was arguing with that arrangement.

The itinerary could change.

Safety could not.

The Editor in Chief

This was not a day filled with famous landmarks.

There were no dramatic excursions.

There was no need for dozens of photographs.

Instead, the Pacific Ocean provided the setting.

Summit provided the transportation.

Her crew provided competence and reassurance.

And God provided the perspective.

Jeannie and Skip watched the ocean from their shaded balcony and saw more than rough water.

They saw power.

Order.

Beauty.

And provision.

Their technology may help get them there.

God created the there.

And on this particular day, the Editor in Chief decided that majesty was enough.

No additional special effects required.

Summit Settles In

By Day Two aboard Celebrity Summit, your roving reporter had gathered enough evidence to make an early assessment: this ship has a personality.

She is not trying to be the largest cruise ship in the world. Jeannie and Skip have already done that version of cruising with the family.

Summit appears to be after something else entirely.

Smaller. Calmer. More personal. A little more polished around the edges. And, according to Skip, “amazing and chill.”

That was not marketing copy. That was the official family-text dispatch from a man whose expectations were being exceeded.

He reported good food, twice-daily cabin service, cloth hand towels in the public restrooms, no lines and quality entertainment.

The reporter took note.

So did Jeannie.

Because somewhere in between the grand staircase, the dining room and Deck 10, Summit was beginning to win them over not with spectacle, but with details.

One of those details was waiting in their cabin.

A small bouquet of fresh flowers had been left by Julie, their stateroom attendant.

Julie had already been taking excellent care of them, but this was something extra. No fanfare. No announcement. Just fresh flowers waiting in the cabin.

That is the kind of detail a roving reporter files away.

It says something.

So did another discovery made earlier that day: cruise food can apparently be enjoyed without eating every visible item simply because it exists.

At breakfast, Jeannie and Skip adopted what they began calling the tapas mentality.

The theory was simple: eat less at one sitting, stop before reaching “full,” and trust that another opportunity to eat would present itself somewhere on a cruise ship.

This was not exactly a high-risk theory.

Their goal was not to lose weight while traveling. They merely hoped to avoid the traditional cruise phenomenon in which clothing mysteriously shrinks before disembarkation.

Lunch followed the same pattern.

Later, they were heading toward the ice cream when bread pudding appeared.

Bread pudding won.

This brought the total number of days aboard without trying the ice cream to two.

Their three youngest grandsons, veterans of the July family cruise, would likely consider this a serious breach of cruise protocol.

The investigation remains open.

By dinner, another development required documentation.

Skip ordered a stuffed portobello mushroom as his entrée.

Your reporter will pause here for context.

Skip likes meat.

This was not a man ordering the predictable thing.

He ordered the mushroom.

He enjoyed the mushroom.

History was made quietly at the 9:00 PM late seating.

The two Terrys joined them again for dinner, and the table settled into more of the fun and interesting conversation that was quickly becoming part of the rhythm of the cruise.

Jeannie’s appetizer was beet-and-yogurt soup, which passed both the visual and taste tests.

So far, the tapas experiment appeared to be working.

So did the activity plan.

Jeannie had started the day with chair exercises on the balcony, then climbed from Deck 6 to Deck 10 for a brisk 30-minute walk in the gym.

She was taking the stairs about 90 percent of the time.

This arrangement had also produced a developing competition of sorts.

Jeannie would take the stairs.

Skip would take the elevator.

On more than one occasion, Jeannie arrived first.

No formal standings have been released.

Then came the day’s headline.

Celebrity Summit does not have waterslides.

Officially.

Unofficially, Jeannie discovered one near an automatic door.

The ingredients were simple: one pair of new gym shoes with slick soles, one recently scrubbed deck, one slightly raised metal threshold and one unsuspecting passenger moving at normal speed.

The result was approximately six inches of unintended travel.

The left foot slid.

The left knee noticed.

Jeannie did not fall.

There were no lingering problems.

And the Lord was thanked immediately.

Later, Skip returned to the scene with Jeannie for what can only be described as a reenactment.

There, directly beside the site of the incident, was a label on the threshold:

WATCH YOUR STEP.

A thoughtful warning.

Its timing was debatable.

The resulting photograph now serves as documentary evidence of what Island Time Travels will henceforth recognize as the Summit Slide.

The rest of the day was considerably more graceful.

Jeannie and Skip spent time relaxing together on the pool deck, becoming more familiar with the ship and settling into the slower rhythm of a sea day.

That evening, they attended their first full production show aboard Summit, featuring the ship’s singers, dancers and orchestra.

Talented performers. Quality production. Another point in Summit’s favor.

Meanwhile, tropical activity continued to lurk somewhere beyond the horizon.

The captain was providing updates, although Jeannie and Skip did not always find every announcement easy to hear or understand.

Enter Jules.

Skip’s AI assistant had taken on the unofficial title of Weather Wizard, delivering daily forecasts with particular attention to the tropical systems that might affect the ship’s route.

The captain had the bridge.

Jules had the forecast.

Between them, the situation appeared covered.

And yet, beneath all the small stories of the day — the flowers, the food, the stairs, the six-inch slide, the weather reports — there was a larger one.

Jeannie had already put it into words:

God will either calm the storms or He will calm us in the storms. He is sovereign and in control.

That remained true whether the sea stayed smooth or became rough.

It remained true whether the itinerary held or changed.

And it remained true in the grand sweep of a voyage and in the smallest details of one ordinary sea day.

Your roving reporter can document the flowers.

The Weather Wizard can track the storms.

Jeannie and Skip can make their plans.

But the Editor in Chief still has the final say.

And so far, He is writing a very good story.

As for the Summit Slide, this reporter has reviewed the photographic evidence, noted the clearly posted WATCH YOUR STEP warning, and made an executive decision:

Lumen will not be conducting an independent test.

Some stories are better reported than experienced.

Filed from somewhere aboard Celebrity Summit.
Written in part by Lumen Aid, roving reporter.