Paul’s mom, Mrs. Sabourin, has a pirate’s bloodlust. When we were on the bow of the ship for the group photo, I was standing next to her for a few minutes, and when I pointed out a small sandy island nearby, she said “Let’s claim it.” When I reminded her that there there were probably already people living on it, she looked around at the doughy Sea Monkeys surrounding her and declared “We can take ’em”.

We met Jonathan Coulton on the first day, enjoying drinks by the Lido pool. He came up to us and shook our hands, after which he told us “There, I just gave you diarrhea. That is why you never shake hands on a cruise ship.”

I learned that the appropriate term for people from Saskatoon is “Saskatonians”, and calling them “Saskatooners”, while hysterically funny to me, is wrong and likely a little rude. But they wouldn’t tell you that, of course. They’ll just smile politely and judge you internally.

While we were taking our scuba lessons in the pool, a giant iguana decided he was tired of hanging out in the tree, and belly-flopped into the water next to us.

I’m not sure who created it, but a “burn” gesture was born on this cruise. Used when a particularly good burn is issued, it consists of covering your mouth in mock horror and flicking your hand to divert any burn-ricochet that may come towards you, innocent witness to the spectacular burn.

John Hodgman always sat in the same place for every show – a balcony area christened the “Hodge Pod”. He sat quite regally in his Pod, sometimes rising and extending his hands in an attempt to zap the performers with Palpatine-esque finger-lightning.

I’m sure there’s more, but it’s time to put this cruise to bed and move on to other things. Thanks for the good times, JCCC2. We’ll always have Aruba.