"It's Impossible"

How a banana led to the harsh truth

These writings won't be exclusively about the sad state of cruising, but this story sheds some light on the last post.

In December, 2023, I took a cruise on Celebrity Infinity from Barcelona to the Canary Islands, Morocco, and some Spanish ports. As previously stated, it was a great itinerary but a terrible cruise.

Being accustomed to the pre-COVID standard that Celebrity set, I've been terribly disappointed on the several cruises I've taken with them since sailing resumed. There are many stories about why, but this one illustrates it better than most.

When I cruise alone, I usually avoid the main dining room. I have no problem dining alone, but the MDR just isn't set up for the needs of one, and the meal just ends up taking a lot longer than it needs to. I tend to eat at the buffets, or if I have an early start, sometimes I'll put the card out for the now-limited complimentary breakfast room service.

I did this on a morning with an early excursion meeting time, and I wasn't expecting much. Long gone are the days when cruise ship room service was free, actually good, and something to look forward to. Now it's more akin to the free breakfasts you get from chain hotels, except cold and with less variety.

But it's usually edible.

I didn't ask for much—coffee, a bagel with butter, tomato juice, yogurt, and bacon. This fairly safe combination has been my staple for years, and while never "good," it has at least been filling.

But this is what I received:

When I worked at Publix, there was a sign printed in the back of the produce department that said "If you wouldn't serve it to your family, don't put it on the floor!" And I think that's a pretty good maxim. Celebrity would do well to follow it. The bagel was cold, and while it may have been toasted at one point in the distant past, now it was just cold and soggy. But no matter - it's just calories. I'll slather it with butter and... ah. No, I won't. There is no butter. Just two dollops of cream cheese, which I despise. I ate the wretched thing dry.

OK, but at least there's bacon. Bacon brightens everyone's day, even vegans though they won't admit it. (I'm right aren't I? Admit it! Yes, I'm kidding. I'd rather you left the bacon for me.) I met my wife for the first time when she emerged on the deck of a ship with an entire tray of bacon as a way of saying "Hello, I'm Jennifer!" The rest is history.

This bacon was also history. Cold, gummy, saturated with fat and stringy bits. I didn't even bother to choke it down. And it seems I wouldn't be dining alone this morning, as several fruit files escaped from the tomato juice when I lifted the paper lid. Ugh.

The tiny portion of yogurt was fine if forgettable, and the coffee served its purpose, but the banana tipped the scale from "disappointing" to "offensive."

I'd much rather hear "I'm sorry sir, we're out of bananas. Would you like an apple or some melon?" This is not an edible bit of fruit. One might argue that unripe bananas are good for those with diabetes or some sort of pseudo-scientific cleansing routine, but for the average person, that's not food. It's an impromptu sex toy.

I had an excursion to get to, so I finished what I could, set the tray aside, and left the banana on the window sill to see if maybe it would ripen during the cruise's remaining week. (Spoiler: it did not.)

After a day wandering the streets of Rabat and Casablanca, I came back to my cabin and flopped on the bed, exhausted. And then the phone rang.

"Good afternoon, sir. This is Room Service. We're calling to find out how you enjoyed your breakfast."

I'm not much of a "let me talk to your manager" type of person. I will push an issue if it's important, but most of the time, I'm willing to let things slide, and this is especially true on cruise ships because I know how hard the staff works. I try to do everything I can to make their jobs easier.

But I was tired. And hungry. And I HATE phone calls. So I let them have it, in the politest tone I could manage.

"Ahh, well, I've been on dozens of cruises and that was by far the WORST thing anyone has ever served to me. The bagels were pathetic, the bacon was awful, and the banana was literally inedible. It's a shame how quality has dropped at Celebrity."

Silence. "Oh, I'm sorry sir. Thank you for letting us know. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No. Good bye." CLICK

And I thought that would be the end of it, because it's obvious that they don't really care. If they cared, they'd NEVER serve anything that looked like that.

Days went by. I avoided the room service, and stuck to the buffet. To be fair, it was much better. I noted that the bananas there were also on the unripe side, but they were showing at least a blush of yellow.

Bananas are a hard problem on ships. They have a very short window of ripeness and can't be stored as long as other fruits. This is why on a cruise, you'll often see a LOT of bananas at the beginning, then fewer, and then a LOT of banana bread, bananas foster, and other banana-derived foods. In the last days, it's rare to see an actual banana at the fruit station.

One evening, I went to the buffet for dinner. It was a bit late, and there weren't many people there. I made a plate of tikka masala and sat at a table by myself near a window.

Then I heard "Mr. Wagg? Can I have a word with you?"

An eastern European man dressed as a buffet manager approached me with a smile. I remember his name, but let's just call him Dimitry.

"Yes, I suppose, but I'd like to know how you knew my name."

"Oh, I've been looking for you for days. I'm Dimitriy the Room Service manager, and I've been watching the cameras onboard to try to find you so we can talk about your breakfast the other day."

My mind filled with questions. And annoyance. I wanted to eat dinner in peace, not talk about a dreadful meal from a few days ago. But before I could assemble a response...

"I want to apologize for that meal. It's unacceptable, and I'd like to explain what happened."

The increasingly agitated man launched into a 30 minute tirade about how the cruise line was making things impossible.

"Ever since COVID, we have all these new people and they just don't know how to work. The line keeps pressuring the managers to make things better, while reducing our budget and giving us fewer people. It's impossible."

"And I know you're disappointed. Everyone is. They see the ads on TV and on the web and then they get this and they're angry. This isn't luxury. And they take it out me. But all the line cares about are the survey cards."

"I've only got eight more months, and then I'm out of here. There's no saving this. I'm going home, and I'm not coming back."

I was amazed at his candor, and he confirmed a number of things I suspected: the cruise line had shifted fully from providing a good product to providing a good bottom line. RCL, the parent company, is up 52% for the year. That strategy only works short term, of course. But on this day, we were experiencing the results firsthand.

"It's always the bananas. You know how hard it is to keep them fresh?"

I do.

"But everyone wants them, so we give them. But then they complain. It's impossible."

"So look, tell you what. For the rest of the cruise, you can have all the room service you want for free. The entire menu, all day long. Just put 'Dimitry' at the top and there won't be any charge. OK? But do me a favor. Put down EXCELLENT on the survey so the shoreside people won't give us any more trouble. OK? Those things are really important. For all the dining on board. Those surveys are the most important thing. It really helps us."

I thanked him for the offer, and agreed to fill out the survey. I did not agree to a rating.

The sales pitch wasn't the end of the rant.

"Nobody cares anymore. These kids don't know what they're doing, and all the experienced people didn't come back to train them. They do the least they can."

I asked if it was like this on just the older, smaller ships or on all of them.

"Oh, it's all of them. They pay more attention to Edge and Apex, but the crew isn't what it was. Everyone's upset, and a lot of people don't come back. Anyway, be sure to fill out the survey, and if there's anything you need, please look for me."

He handed me his card, and made his way down the buffet. I noticed that he stopped to speak sternly to one of the workers.

Pressuring me for a good review is nearly guaranteed to backfire. I just don't work like that. You want a good review? Listen to what I say and fix it. Do something positive. And don't just fix ME, fix the actual problem. Tell me you'll have a talk with the staff about the food they're delivering, for example.

Also, how the heck did he find me? And why didn't he just leave a message on the phone or cabin door? They ship knows what I look like because all ships take your picture once you board for security reasons. He must have pulled up my record, looked at my security photo, and then watched the cameras in the buffet each night hoping to catch me. Or maybe they have facial recognition tracking? This is odd and somewhat suspicious behavior. (I have since learned that the Royal Caribbean Group, which includes Celebrity, rolled out facial recognition in 2019.)

But I thought about what he said, and one thing was right: it is impossible. And he was certainly candid, which I appreciate. So I decided to see how the rest of the cruise went, and look at things with a fresh perspective.

Two days later, I ordered room service for dinner. I mentioned Dimitriy and was not charged, as promised. It was terrible, but at least "normal" terrible. Despite Dimitry's offer, I didn't order room service again, and other than waving at me once in the buffet, we never spoke again.

I filled out the survey card honestly. I was harsh, but fair and most important: accurate. I left extensive text comments about how the line was the problem, not the crew. But I felt guilty about it. Those comments would likely not be read, and instead a summary score is all the executives would see.

I wasn't upset with anyone on board. Yes, it's poor customer service to serve food in that condition and it seems like anyone in the industry should know that, but the line isn't supporting the crew. The bean counters and decision makers are the ones I have the real concern with. With Dimitry's confirmation, I know that my scores will be thrown back on the staff and crew and things will just get worse. If I had done as Dimitry asked, they'd still get worse, and I'd be part of keeping it that way.

It's impossible.