Dancing across the seas to Hawaii

When the chance to visit Hawaii comes along, we grab it. I will be giving a series of four dance classes on the way over and four classes on the way back. All onboard expenses will be paid.

When Orllyene and I returned to Las Vegas from Atlantic City and were first retired, Orllyene had a craving to see Hawaii. The stipulation was that we see all the islands: Oahu, Maui, Kauai, and the Big Island. In checking with the local travel agent for our trip, I find it beyond our budget. But that was a bunch of years ago and, now, a free trip falls into our lap.

“Mrs. Hughes” a comedienne I met in Atlantic City, became my client when I was newly retired. After pestering every entertainment director in Las Vegas, the entertainment director of Carnival Cruise Lines finally gives Carol (“Mrs. Hughes”) a shot. Carol is a huge success; which I knew she would be.

While doing shows on Carnival, Carol becomes friendly with the ladies who hire the craft/games/dance instructor people for the cruise. Carol knows I give dance classes and, bingo, I get the job.

On the trip to Hawaii, my classes are packed. There isn’t an inch of space on the dance floor that isn’t filled. To adjust to that many people, I use my jazz dance format. Using pop 1940s music, I dance in front of the group as they do the movements behind me. Before long, no one is self-conscious anymore and they aren’t wondering if anyone is looking at them. They just dance and everyone has a good time. The floor is now filled with folks old enough to afford a cruise and young enough to still enjoy it (Qué Milagro – What a Miracle.)

On the way back to the mainland, everyone is bushed and the classes become smaller. Orllyene works with the gentlemen on their leading skills and I help the ladies deal with partners who don’t give them a strong lead. (Men: On the dance floor is the only time we are, without question, in charge. So be a strong leader.)

Being at sea has a calming affect on me. I stand at the rail, look out to the horizon, watch flying fish glide band crash into the water, and dolphin swimming beside the ship. After ingesting my lungs full of balmy, tropical air, I toss all my worries overboard and go below for a snack.

One early morning I go topside, Bible in hand, find a bench, and sit down for a good read. Time flies by as other passengers arrive. I join them and walk along the deck with Bible in hand at my side. After a few steps, a man walking with a woman in front of me turns and says, “We believe too.” (His exact words.) I feel a trifle embarrassed. How did he recognize that the book in my hand was a Bible and why do I feel a tad embarrassed?

In many ways the entire cruise has the earmarks of being providential. Orllyene gets the exact cruise she wished for, I have a fabulous time giving dance classes, and Carol has friends who have arranged for an all-expense-paid cruise. The clincher is: the name of the ship is “Spirit.”

Ron Walker can be reached at walkover@gmx.com