LOCAL COUPLE SURVIVES 16 DAYS AT SEA – Canal Deemed “Less Spectacular” Than Advertised; $8 Hat Recovered After Heroic Search
FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. — In what travel industry insiders are calling “a trip that happened,” a Pacific Northwest couple departed this storied Florida port aboard a sixteen-story floating city, bound for adventure, culture, and it would emerge, a truly exceptional banana milkshake.
Embarkation proceeded without incident — a fact so remarkable in the annals of cruise travel that it bears repeating. They were aboard before noon. Let the record show it.
The vessel’s first port of call was Aruba, where what sources describe as a “Hey Dude” shoe outlet proved to be the undoing of one Dr. Harper, heretofore known for his principled stance against footwear that prioritizes comfort over the aesthetic dignity of the human foot.
“Now if I could just get him to stop calling them his ‘P Diddy’ shoes, we’d have it made.”
The good doctor, whose views on orthopedic footwear are apparently firm up until the moment they are not, departed the establishment as a changed man — and a more comfortable one.
THE CANAL: A CANDID ASSESSMENT
The main event, the Panama Canal itself, drew what this correspondent would characterize as a measured review. “Much less spectacular in a 16-story ship,” one traveler noted with the weary authority of someone who has now done 46 canals and has opinions. The Danube, it seems, set a bar the Pacific has so far failed to clear.
COSTA RICA: TIRES, HEAT & TRIUMPH
Puntarenas, Costa Rica presented the party with a two-mile walk in ninety-five degree heat, culminating in the discovery of — and we are not fabricating this — approximately three dozen orange and white tires, buried halfway in the sand. Their purpose remains, as of press time, entirely unknown.
On the bright side, the exertion caused a blood sugar crash, which necessitated an emergency banana milkshake, which was, by all accounts, delicious. Readers seeking such refreshment are now formally directed to Costa Rica.
PUERTO CHIAPAS: A MEXICAN PORT ASSESSED
Our correspondents, veterans of multiple continents, report that Puerto Chiapas, Mexico offered, and we quote, “nothing worth getting off the ship for.” They nonetheless boarded the bus. They rode thirty minutes. They arrived. They wished, immediately, that they had not.
An Oreo Frappé was consumed. It was, reportedly, not worth it, though the correspondents consumed it anyway, as one does when one has ridden thirty minutes for the privilege.
“Nothing worth getting off the ship for. We got off the ship anyway.”
HUATULCO: A PLEASANT SURPRISE & THE GREAT HAT NEGOTIATION OF 2026
All prior suffering was redeemed at Huatulco, a clean and pleasant town that cheerfully presented itself to the weary travelers. A hat was spotted. A price was quoted: ten dollars.
Dennis, displaying the iron resolve of a man who has seen things and paid too much for them, declined. He would have this hat, but he would have it for eight dollars, not a penny more.
The second shop quoted twelve. The ground lost in this campaign was noted immediately by at least one member of the party, who voted to retreat to the ten-dollar position. Her counsel was declined.
After a survey of every retail establishment in Huatulco — every last one — the final shop produced the hat, at the correct price, without negotiation, as though the universe itself had been waiting for the right moment to reward stubborn men who walk a long way for hats.
The hat was acquired for eight dollars. Cold Frappés were consumed in celebration. Mimosas followed aboard the ship. It was, by any measure, a good afternoon.
PUERTO VALLARTA: COMING HOME
Puerto Vallarta, described by our correspondents as feeling “just like coming home,” proved the trip’s emotional high watermark. Our Front Desk Crew Bridgett and Katie, recipients of a week’s stay courtesy of the travelers, were found at their hotel in good spirits.
A reunion with the celebrated Dr. Bob at the Riverwalk Restaurant produced drinks, stories, and the warm satisfaction of friendship maintained across distance.
CALIFORNIA: THE HOMESTRETCH
Two sea days delivered the ship to Los Angeles, where dear friends Bob and Katrina provided what sources describe as the trip’s finest meals — fresh from their own garden — alongside a tour of the La Brea Tar Pits and a proper New York-style deli lunch. After sixteen days of shipboard cuisine, a garden tomato is a religious experience.
The journey home delivered one final unexpected gift: the plane descended into Seattle in actual daylight, with the sun in evidence, revealing St. Helens, Hood, Adams, and Rainier in full alpine splendor. One traveler was, simply, amazed.
“There really is no place like home.” — Filed from 35,000 feet, above the Cascades
