2003, Alaska, Radiance of the Seas. I hadn't thought about the fact that we were coming out of the inside passage in the middle of the night to get to the glacier. I woke up, FREAKED OUT by the noises and the shifting and the rocking and swaying. Didn't know what was going on. Our oceanview room was at the bow, overlooking the helipad. I kept trying to wake up my brand new DH, trying to get his words of wisdom. His dad was Navy/Merchant Marine/shipping, and DH's first jobs were for his dad on ships, and then on oil tankers in REAL Alaska waters. He slept and slept. He wouldn't wake up for more than a "it's OK" mumble. See, that rocking just put him to SLEEP like I've never seen in him, because he misses a life at sea.
I finally got to sleep, practically sucking my thumb in a fetal position, having worked out that if stuff wasn't falling off the shelves, and the clever little storage areas were staying closed, that it was probably OK no matter how it felt to me.
In the morning at breakfast we sat next to a couple from Canada, and the wife was talking about how rocky it had been. DH launches into a fabulous explanation of the ship and how you WANT it to bend, and the creaks are part of that, etc etc, just this big long explanation, and he nearly got his coffee dumped in his lap. Where was that explanation the night before while YOUR wife was nearly in tears, Mister?!!???
I laugh about it now.
We want skyscrapers to sway a bit. We want ships to bend a bit. Even though it feels totally wrong.