Bass Player and multi-instrumentalist based in Seattle,WA.
June 14, 2018
Crew Cabins/Accommodations:
I’ve been on this gig for about 7 months now. I’m two weeks into my second contract and it’s been a incredible ride. I’ve been able to do things I never thought I’d do and I’m having the time of my life. It certainly has it’s down sides, but in all, it’s been an amazing experience. To all my fellow musicians out there, I know how hard it is to make a living with your craft, but this is one way you can actually do it and save money. If you hate playing “covers”, just remember, most of the music you play as a pro is cover material anyway. I mean, if you didn’t write the music or you weren’t involved in the creation of it, you’re pretty much playing covers. If you play jazz standards, you’re playing covers. If you’re a hired gun for an original artist, you’re playing their music...it’s a type of cover. If you play in an orchestra and you’re playing Mahler, you’re playing a cover. The reason I state this is because I swore up and down years ago that I’d never play in a cover band again. I kept myself away from this gig because I didn’t want to play covers, but I’ve been playing covers my entire music career without even knowing it. Funny, that.
If you have questions about getting started with auditions or applying, feel free to contact me. Also, I’ll try to get a blog post up about that process and give (very helpful!!) advice for when you get going. So, without further adieu...
I’ll start off here with my first blog post, not about music or the job, but about something we can pretty much all identify with — toilets and bathrooms. I know you want to hear about this because most of the questions I’m asked have to do with our living spaces.
I’m a fairly small dude. I stand between 5’7” and 5’8” and weigh 135. I’m far from being the smallest crew member on any ship, but there are some really tall men who work on ships. The ones I’ve met so far are from Eastern Europe. You’d think they’d be working in the engine room or something, but the ones I’ve met have all been in dining. I’ve seen a few guys who are (not an exaggeration) probably pushing 7 feet. It’s uncomfortable to watch them have to duck their heads under all these metal bars and stuff. So when I say that the bathroom in our cabin is small, I can only imagine what it’d be like for those guys to fit in one of these crew bathrooms, in particular, to fit on the toilet. I mean, when I sit, my left rib cage hits the sink and my right foot is propped up on the rail that separates the shower. While sitting, to reach for the toilet paper (which is located under the sink, behind the drain pipe), I have to do this long right-armed reach under my left leg, and then yank the toilet paper, hoping that I actually rip it and it doesn’t just end up flying off and trail itself all over the floor. Sometimes these cabins and bathrooms are so small it seems like RV life. It’s better than nothing, but man...
I’m also a bit of a germophobe. I’m not extreme by any means, but I like clean bathrooms, which frankly is a kinder way of saying that I HATE gross bathrooms. In my last apartment, I did my best to keep stuff from growing, but in an old building that’s in desperate need of a paint job, there’s only so much you can do. However, I’m not in my apartment. I’m on a ship where I have no control.
These cabins and bathrooms take a lot to upkeep and maintain. There are new crew members living in them every six months (at the longer end) and sometimes for just a few weeks, so I understand how they can get so well-used. We aren’t allowed to have harsh cleaners here because all the grey water gets flushed out to sea. We need to be responsible for how we clean the ship because it directly affects the natural environment.
The entertainment staff each have stewards to clean their cabins, bring new towels and bed sheets, and to take our dress clothes to the launderer to be pressed. It’s actually not a choice for either the steward or staff. I can’t say to the company, “I don’t need or want a cabin steward.” It just comes with the package. Yes, it’s a privilege, but frankly, if I had a solo cabin it would be clean. However, not all people can clean up after themselves. Hence — cabin stewards.
We are required to tip them one dollar per day. Personally, I believe that it’s the responsibility of the person who’s room it is to make sure that their stuff is out of the way so that the steward doesn’t have to navigate or move their personal stuff so much. It just makes the cleaning process more efficient. That said, not everyone feels this way. I’m not in the majority — I’ve seen other crew cabins. There are lots of younger folk here who haven’t really been out on their own much yet. So, regardless of my own non-need for a steward, I’m glad they’re here for the others. Showing up to a place you’ll be living in for six months that’s already a mess when you arrive wouldn’t be fun, so kudos to the stewards.
I’m in Cozumel today. I can’t complain. This job has been such a gift to me. I’m grateful that I can even play music and have even had the time to work on such a beautiful craft as music...and the bass. What a cool instrument.
Until next time, enjoy your work (if you can). I really hope you can, because life is too short to not.
Crew Cabins/Accommodations:
I’ve been on this gig for about 7 months now. I’m two weeks into my second contract and it’s been a incredible ride. I’ve been able to do things I never thought I’d do and I’m having the time of my life. It certainly has it’s down sides, but in all, it’s been an amazing experience. To all my fellow musicians out there, I know how hard it is to make a living with your craft, but this is one way you can actually do it and save money. If you hate playing “covers”, just remember, most of the music you play as a pro is cover material anyway. I mean, if you didn’t write the music or you weren’t involved in the creation of it, you’re pretty much playing covers. If you play jazz standards, you’re playing covers. If you’re a hired gun for an original artist, you’re playing their music...it’s a type of cover. If you play in an orchestra and you’re playing Mahler, you’re playing a cover. The reason I state this is because I swore up and down years ago that I’d never play in a cover band again. I kept myself away from this gig because I didn’t want to play covers, but I’ve been playing covers my entire music career without even knowing it. Funny, that.
If you have questions about getting started with auditions or applying, feel free to contact me. Also, I’ll try to get a blog post up about that process and give (very helpful!!) advice for when you get going. So, without further adieu...
I’ll start off here with my first blog post, not about music or the job, but about something we can pretty much all identify with — toilets and bathrooms. I know you want to hear about this because most of the questions I’m asked have to do with our living spaces.
I’m a fairly small dude. I stand between 5’7” and 5’8” and weigh 135. I’m far from being the smallest crew member on any ship, but there are some really tall men who work on ships. The ones I’ve met so far are from Eastern Europe. You’d think they’d be working in the engine room or something, but the ones I’ve met have all been in dining. I’ve seen a few guys who are (not an exaggeration) probably pushing 7 feet. It’s uncomfortable to watch them have to duck their heads under all these metal bars and stuff. So when I say that the bathroom in our cabin is small, I can only imagine what it’d be like for those guys to fit in one of these crew bathrooms, in particular, to fit on the toilet. I mean, when I sit, my left rib cage hits the sink and my right foot is propped up on the rail that separates the shower. While sitting, to reach for the toilet paper (which is located under the sink, behind the drain pipe), I have to do this long right-armed reach under my left leg, and then yank the toilet paper, hoping that I actually rip it and it doesn’t just end up flying off and trail itself all over the floor. Sometimes these cabins and bathrooms are so small it seems like RV life. It’s better than nothing, but man...
I’m also a bit of a germophobe. I’m not extreme by any means, but I like clean bathrooms, which frankly is a kinder way of saying that I HATE gross bathrooms. In my last apartment, I did my best to keep stuff from growing, but in an old building that’s in desperate need of a paint job, there’s only so much you can do. However, I’m not in my apartment. I’m on a ship where I have no control.
These cabins and bathrooms take a lot to upkeep and maintain. There are new crew members living in them every six months (at the longer end) and sometimes for just a few weeks, so I understand how they can get so well-used. We aren’t allowed to have harsh cleaners here because all the grey water gets flushed out to sea. We need to be responsible for how we clean the ship because it directly affects the natural environment.
The entertainment staff each have stewards to clean their cabins, bring new towels and bed sheets, and to take our dress clothes to the launderer to be pressed. It’s actually not a choice for either the steward or staff. I can’t say to the company, “I don’t need or want a cabin steward.” It just comes with the package. Yes, it’s a privilege, but frankly, if I had a solo cabin it would be clean. However, not all people can clean up after themselves. Hence — cabin stewards.
We are required to tip them one dollar per day. Personally, I believe that it’s the responsibility of the person who’s room it is to make sure that their stuff is out of the way so that the steward doesn’t have to navigate or move their personal stuff so much. It just makes the cleaning process more efficient. That said, not everyone feels this way. I’m not in the majority — I’ve seen other crew cabins. There are lots of younger folk here who haven’t really been out on their own much yet. So, regardless of my own non-need for a steward, I’m glad they’re here for the others. Showing up to a place you’ll be living in for six months that’s already a mess when you arrive wouldn’t be fun, so kudos to the stewards.
I’m in Cozumel today. I can’t complain. This job has been such a gift to me. I’m grateful that I can even play music and have even had the time to work on such a beautiful craft as music...and the bass. What a cool instrument.
Until next time, enjoy your work (if you can). I really hope you can, because life is too short to not.
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