By afternoon, he lounged poolside, floating about in the hottub, or exploring the spa’s zen garden, which to him was a jungle of raked pebbles and bonsai forests.
Giddy made friends with the ship’s night steward, Arturo, who quickly caught on that something magical was aboard. “You’re a gnome?” he whispered one evening as he danced along the piano keys at Martinis.
“I prefer gnomad,” Giddy winked.
Giddy took a nap and awoke nestled inside a warm croissant basket in the ship’s French bistro. He stretched, brushed a flake from his cap, and prepared for the day’s mission: cheese.
Word among the staff that a rare truffle brie was hidden in the galley’s cold vault. Giddy, donning a napkin as a cape, launched Operation Fromage. He slipped past sous-chefs, dodged mop buckets, and repelled down a hanging ladle into the chilly cavern of dairy.
He emerged victorious—belly full, smelling faintly of Camembert, and hailed as a hero by a choir of fridge gnomes he hadn’t known existed.
Despite the choppy conditions, life aboard the Vista carried on with a mixture of resilience and humor. The crew, ever professional, went about their duties with practiced ease, offering extra ginger ale and crackers to queasy passengers and steadying trays of food as they navigated the swaying dining room. The entertainment staff kept spirits high, modifying the evening performances to suit the rocking stage—comedians leaned into the motion, literally, while dancers adapted their routines with impressive balance and grace.
One afternoon, a surprise announcement crackled over the intercom: a pod of dolphins had been spotted alongside the ship. Passengers flocked to the rails, clutching onto hats and camera straps as the wind whipped across the deck. There they were—sleek, gray shapes darting in and out of the waves, unfazed by the stormy seas. For a few minutes, the ocean felt less threatening and more alive, a reminder of its wild beauty.
Back in our cabin, Giddy was quite the little sailor. He had taken to watching the sea from our lanai, nose pressed to the glass, ears flicking at every creak and groan of the ship. We told Giddy a story – Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, A tale of a fateful trip
That started from this tropic port of Miami Aboard this ship. The mate was a mighty sailing man, The captain brave and sure.
many passengers set sail that day for a twelve day tour. The weather started getting rough, The ship was tossed, If not for the courage of the fearless crew The Vista would be lost, the Vista would be lost. Giddy began to laugh and ask who was Gilligan?
We replied he was of course. We all had a good laugh, and Giddy dug out his white sailor hat to wear.
The air was chilly in low 60’s and we joked that he was ready to take over as First Mate. Each evening, we’d took a careful stroll a from Horizon’s lounge located near the bow on deck 14
cross the deck, breathing in the salty air and marveling at the size of the waves crashing just below. We find that as the ship rolls, allows for better sleeping each night. As we pass through time changes each night, we sleep further into the morning as we adapt to the new time zone.
On the fourth night, the storm began to ease. The ship no longer groaned with each swell, and sleep came easier. In the morning, the clouds began to break apart, revealing soft streaks of sunlight on the horizon. There was a quiet sense of triumph among the passengers—we had ridden it out, together.
Our next stop is Ponta Delgada in the Azores on Saturday the 10th.
Take care and hopefully smooth sailing going forward.