(... and literally every night since May 22)

And while not always in my cabin, this boat has provided a continual roof over my head for five months now, to the day. As that’s my longest stretch in years, it’s time to pay tribute to the physical ship I call home.

It’s 1,068’ long - roughly three football fields. Just today in Miami, while in a cab returning to the ship, I pointed out the Norwegian Jade docked nearby: “That’s huge!” A crew member corrected me: No, the Jade has over 1,000 passengers less than the Getaway ... and then our behemoth loomed into view.

So the Getaway is a beast. But she is a functional beast. On a typical Saturday evening an unbelievable amount of luggage is tagged, sorted, and readied for tomorrow’s early morning dock in Miami. By 10am the next day 4,000 passengers will have disembarked (along with all their bags). Over 100 crew will do the same, off to their vacation or home or perhaps another ship. Several hundred more will get off for a few hours - most of which will head to the Marshall’s downtown and the nearby Whole Foods. By 12:00 noon 100 new crew replacements will have boarded - all scrambling to find their cabin - while 4,000 new passengers start boarding. At 4pm the horn sounds, everybody’s back, and we’re off. It’s a dizzying six hours of activity, which I try to miss as much of as possible. And it generates a fair amount of laundry down on Deck 2 ...

One of my absolute favorite places on the ship: the front pointy bit. That’s the bow in boat parlance, and Deck 8 Forward to be official. On our vessel it’s also the helipad (on which the Captain has painted a smiley face) and a crew bar. It’s one of the best vantage points during the day, and bar none the best stargazing at night. And it’s the closest you can get to the ocean. It’s oddly communal; it’s where you bump into people you haven’t seen in a while or that you know only from the key maker’s workshop or crew mess. And with no passengers allowed, you feel safe and at ease ... despite being visible to the entire boat and watched over (sometimes through binoculars) by the Bridge.

A little bit more brick than the others, and a whole order of magnitude larger. We’re not the biggest - the Norwegian Epic has an additional 50 passengers, and rumor has it that Disney has several ships a wee larger - but with 5,65o people onboard, we’re the biggest I’ve seen.

Some fun stats, if you like the engineering numbers game (I’m looking at you Brendan, Emily, et al ...). I still eat this stuff up:

1. +The Getaway is 170’ wide, and sits almost 30’ down in the water
   

2. +Our top speed is 22.5 kts or 25mph
   

    (I still need to learn why those two numbers aren’t the same ...)

1. +The propellers each measure 6m in diameter
   

2. +Four engines deliver 62,000 kilowats or 84,000 horsepower
   

3. +Fuel capacity 862,000 gallons; Water capacity 1.1 million gallons
   

4. +2 Anchors, weighing 18 tons each, on chains 1,200’ long
   

5. +18 Lifeboats, 13,000 life jackets, and 626 fire hydrants

Deck 8 Forward - From the Bridge Camera

(I told you it was pointy - and that there is a smiley face painted on it. [at bottom])

Channel 21 in your cabin allows every crew member to see what the Bridge sees: to check the weather, or see if we’re still docked. Or check out who’s on 8 Forward. Or what they’re wearing. Or if they’ve started the yoga class yet ...

It’s where I do Kung Fu, and from where everyone calls Stateside when we’re docked in Miami (8 Forward is the only place the entire crew is allowed above deck).

It’s private. It’s voyeuristic. Oh, and it’s where you go during outrageous weather!

And it’s where the entire Entertainment Department was when we sailed into Rio harbor (tease for future SeaBlogs ...)

One of my favorite views is only visible in Miami when they pop open this little hatch (Deck 6? ...). I like the  puncture through the painting, the fact that it goes somewhere unknown (and to where? ... hence the railing), and most importantly that you see the bevel and curve of the hull reflected in the irregularity of the hatch cover. There’s often a little winch protruding out over the hatch to haul things up directly. But when we’re in port, every bay door is open and every gangway extended; thousands of pounds of stuff flies in and out every minute that we’re docked. I can’t figure out what is so special that it needs to get loaded directly to Deck 6. Maybe the uranium for the reactor?

Speaking of Deck 2, this sign hangs outside each of the twelve crew elevators. I still have to consult it.

Listed are all major crew departments (laundry, medical, bridge, gym, security, training, etc), and every passenger area (all 27 restaurants, bars and casino, Illusionarium, the spa, pool, etc).

Note, the FZ2 describes the Fire Zone (2 being FWD, which tells me I took this photo in staircase 20 which connects most of my everyday life).

Note also, there is a Floor 7.1 There are a lot of tall things on Deck 7 (like the Getaway Theater - the ‘other’ performance space) which makes the decks line up in curious ways. I cannot for the life of me figure out why passenger areas (Staterooms 6 vs 7 vs 8) seem unaffected by this. Nor can I ever remember if 7.1 sits above or below Deck 7 ...

A rare shot of our rear. I’m intrigued by how the internal architecture is revealed by external markers that are universal throughout modern cruise ships across many different companies.

Starting from the water line (Deck 4) the large horizontal holes just above it are winch ports for mooring lines on Deck 5.

The massive windows that stretch the entire width of Deck 6 look out from Tropicana, one of the largest restaurants onboard.

The balcony on Deck 8 circles almost the entire boat; most bars and restaurants have an outdoor section that opens out onto the balcony which provides an outdoor walk around nearly 1/3 of a mile long.

Decks 9-14 host balconies for some of the most coveted staterooms.

The slight flare near the top is Deck 15’s Garden Cafe wraparound glass - the ship’s buffet seats many hundreds simultaneously.

Finally, the Deck 16 railing encircles Spice H2O, a massive dance floor and bar complex (we’re looking at the back of the jumbotron); this is one of the few places I can’t go, which curtails my aspirations not a jot. Beyond are visible two of the four satellite terminals. We’re all thankful for them - and that they look like shield generators on an Imperial Star Destroyer.