By Jeff Zbar
www.chiefhomeofficer.com

Sitting aboard Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines' Enchantment of the Seas, typing blogs about our travels as I gaze seaward into pitch darkness, I'm awaiting an encounter with the sun at the morning horizon. I'm perched in the heralded Viking Crown Lounge, the elevated, disk-like retreat with full panoramic views of the horizon. I call down to the front desk to find which direction we're traveling.

East-northeast, the night-shift receptionist tells me.

In actuality, I cannot see the seas, the horizon, or anything beyond the glass that surrounds me. I hear wind howling and see a driving rain hitting the glass. Mother nature is being thoroughly uncooperative this Sunday morning. No sunrise to be seen, and quite possibly, no sunbathing on deck either.

Truth be told, born and raised in South Florida, sun worship doesn't mean that much to me. I spent my teenage weekends at Hollywood Beach with friends, swilling beer and slathering on the tanning oil. Today, my beverage is tea and my lotion is SPF 50+ -- when I venture out.

Now, had I traveled from Chicago or Minneapolis or some locale that's awaiting its seasonal chill, I'd be frustrated at the prospect of 12 hours of daylight shrouded in cloud cover. But I come to discover later in the day that I will have underestimated people. Though the sun hardly peeked through the haze much of the day, everyone on board seemed to be enjoying themselves. The rain had cleared, and though we had only shrouded sun, that was not about to keep these fun-seekers from taking in the day topside.

THE CRUISING EXPERIENCE

There's something about a cruise that gets to a person's core. The salt air and the open sea. The allure of the ocean's history and legacy. The enchantment of the sea and the lure back to where it all began. Even for first-timers, it's like some call of the wild.

We've cruised more than a dozen times, on week-long trips and weekenders alike. Even with thousands of fellow passengers, well-designed ships create an experience unique to the traveler. The bigger they get, the more passengers they carry, the more the architects of these vast vessels are challenged to create spaces that create unique experiences for each person. Some guests thrive among the throngs -- whether while dining or dancing or sun bathing. Others want their solitude.

Royal Caribbean International's Enchantment of the Seas sailed her maiden voyage in 1997. She went through a 73-foot extension in 2005 and today remains a well-tended full-service resort at sea. From the Pool deck to the indoor Solarium pool area, to the half-dozen themed bars and lounges -- including the Viking Crown Lounge, the 2,730 guests have ample retreats or places to mingle among the masses aboard this $375 million adventure park-at-sea. From RCCL's now iconic rock-climbing wall to the gym and spa, the Orpheum Theater to the dancefloors, there's plenty for all. Years ago, we began carrying Motorola walkie-talkies shipboard. Today, with our kids growing older -- uninterested in the extensive youth programs, but not so old as to venture out completely unattended, we give them a unit and send them on their way. The devices give us "reach" and peace of mind pretty much from bow to stern.

THE HERITAGE OF THE SEA

With stops in Key West (which was hosting its annual Fantasy Fest -- lamentably, we departed before the night's festivities commenced) and Cozumel, Mexico, we got a taste of island culture, and a five-day getaway. We ate all too well, whether breakfast in the Windjammer buffet-style restaurant, or dinner in the My Fair Lady dining room. More than 1,000 guests were first-time cruisers, and Enchantment offered a fair glimpse into what cruising can offer the traveling passenger.

For our part, cruising has been on our travel itinerary for almost two decades. So, too, has the ocean itself. Born and raised in South Florida, I've enjoyed the ocean for all of my 44 years. So this heritage of locale also made me at home in the water snorkeling with the kids during a Cozumel excursion. Taking a 70-foot catamaran from the dock to Palancar and Colombia reefs off Cozumel, I introduced Zack, 14, Zoe, 11, and my nephew Jordan, 10, to a new perspective on the ocean.

I was raised diving the Cayman Islands, when fields of black coral stretched beyond view and the reefs ran rich and deep. Times have changed. Warmer waters have stressed reefs, especially in popular dive spots. Corals are fewer and their colors more subdued. Game fish were long ago caught and served up to tourists or locals, leaving only tropicals -- whose numbers have been thinned by collectors and the general demise of the reefs.

Still, we had a fair display of reef fauna; through the lens of a trio of adolescent kids, it was spectacular. A five-foot lemon shark swam slowly atop the sandy bottom 30 feet below. A giant, aged green turtle, his left front flipper lost in some battle unknown, meandered by, unspooked by the nearly two dozen snorkelers around him. Rays moved about. An eel was tucked in his cave.

The children were awestruck with the display. For me, it was fun to get back into the swim. I couldn't help recalling my youth spent on dive boats, taking in once pirate-trolled waters, and good times with family. We were having good times again.

AT HOME AT BUSINESS AT SEA

The cruise industry is about business. Sure, outwardly it appears food, drink, song and trinkets are standard fare (they'll dish out some 154,000 meals this week, including 23,000 steaks and 6,500 pounds of seafood). My focus on business has been a different story. Three days at sea and I've remained relatively productive - when I've not been eating and snorkeling with the kids and lounging and eating and walking around this floating city at sea.

Internet is expensive -- 55 cents a minute. Sure, five years ago, it was five fold in price, and far less reliable. Ten years ago, it wasn't even available or right priced. But today, people can work from the playground. With wireless and satellite Internet, work goes on even 600 miles from land.

The sky is turning from black to blue gray. From the glow of the ship's lights, I can see that the deck is awash in a driving rain. I can make out something that looks like a horizon, but I'm left only with the awareness of what pilots experience when flying by sight. No distinct line between sea and sky. Where are we, the Bermuda Triangle?

Even rainstorms at sea are different than at home. The water is pelting the glass. A slight swell in the ocean gives motion to the vessel. I return to my work, blogging about my experience, pausing every few minutes to remember just where - and lucky - I am to be "working" from this place.

The rain has relented to a mist, and there's a break in the clouds on the horizon. I missed my sunrise, but this day -- any day -- at sea is one full of promise and hope and explorations yet unmade and adventures yet untaken. It's almost 8 o'clock. The family will awaken in the next hour. We'll meet up in the Windjammer, enjoy some breakfast, and face the day full, refreshed and ready for anything. Even a little rain on the open ocean.

Enchantment of the Seas?

Indeed.

Jeff Zbar is a journalist, travel writer, and author of Explorer of the Seas, the keepsake volume on the Royal Caribbean International vessel of the same name. Learn more at www.chiefhomeofficer.com.