Writer's Block

Sick on the Superferry

Well, it was finally my turn to get sick on the Superferry this weekend. After an ill-fated attempt to make the passage in February, when we got turned back because I'd forgotten to replace my expired auto registration with the new one, we packed up the family in my little Scion and headed to Honolulu for a long overdue visit with my aunts, uncles and cousins.

Our trip to Oahu was great. As the parent of a young child, I have to say I appreciated being able to just drive on with all our stuff in the car and be ready to go when we got to the other side. No lugging travel cribs and diaper bags through the airport; no struggling to install the car seat in the rental car. The ship was very comfortable, and we were able to pass the time with snacks, books, walking around, using the small play area and making friends with other toddlers. The ocean was a little choppy, but we had taken our Dramamine and felt fine.

Coming back was another story. The wind and surf picked up over the weekend, and we were headed into the wind, making the trip a lot rockier. For the first hour or so, crossing the notoriously rough channel between Diamond Head and Molokai, I managed to hold it together by staying rooted to my seat, keeping my eyes on the horizon and fanning myself vigorously, leaving my husband to fend for himself and our toddler. But a lot of people weren't so lucky, and people were barfing on all sides of me.

I had to notice, the Superferry seemed very prepared to deal with puking passengers. Just about every seat has a good stash of four or five sick bags within easy reach. We upgraded to the swanky Hahalua Lounge, where staff came around at regular intervals with cups of ginger ale and packets of saltines. There also seemed to be a guy with the unenviable job of being chief barf bag collector, and within seconds of the sound of gagging he'd be hovering nearby, pulling on rubber gloves and tactfully holding out a red plastic biohazard bag, ready to whisk away the nasty stuff almost as quickly as it is produced. I was impressed that, although a good four or five people were retching within earshot, the mess itself was expertly contained, with no noticeable odors or messes on the floor -- which would only have exacerbated the problem.

Things got better once we made it to Molokai and chugged into the calm waters to the lee of the island. For about an hour and a half we cruised along, enjoying the views. Lulled by the gentle rocking, my toddler clambered up into my lap, found a cozy spot and fell asleep, which is just about the most satisfying, greatest feeling in the world.

But as we rounded the bend and entered the open ocean for the final leg to Maui, the swells came roaring back, and so did the nausea. Maybe it was only my imagination but it seemed even worse than before. I kept it together as long as I could before bolting for the ladies' room, and, strangely, ended up feeling much better in there -- something about not being able to see out the windows as the ship tossed and turned. Again, I don't know how they do it, but the bathrooms were remarkably clean, sweet-smelling and puke free under the circumstances.

After all that, I have to say I would consider taking the Superferry again. It was definitely convenient to drive on with all our family gear, and not have to deal with a rental car. I could see it being a good option for my occasional shopping safaris in the big city. But that being said, I would probably opt for a summer trip next time, when I'd be more likely to get a smooth ride.

And I have one suggestion for the Superferry: after the first person upchucks, suspend all sales of spam musubi. That's not what you want to be smelling when you're trying to hold in your breakfast.