Cruising Toward Community

I wouldn’t normally consider myself a cruise ship vacation kind of guy. Overabundant opulence with a dash of seasickness tossed in? A confined setting where entertainment options run from smoky casino to overpriced spa? Descending upon destination harbors with hordes of other pasty-faced travelers to be met by pushy vendors selling questionably authentic goo-gaws? Toss me overboard. Given all that, why did I leave the Norwegian Pearl this last week wishing I could squeeze a few more days in? Call it the Cayamo Community.

For starters, Cayamo combines a standard cruise itinerary with the big bonus of a full-fledged summer music festival. Headliners like Brandi Carlile, Lyle Lovett, Keb Mo’, and Richard Thompson join mid-level folks like Shawn Mullins, Joan Osborne and Edwin McCain on board. Rising jewels like Teddy Thompson, Liz Longley, and Delta Rae come along for the ride too. Six indoor and outdoor venues crackle with talent and passion throughout the day and into the early morning. With 40 bands and more than 90 musicians, every day gets packed with more great music than a mere mortal could possibly take in.[1] If you dig folk-rock or alternative country, you’ll dig this boat.

Great music alone won’t weave a sense of community, though. Cayamo relies on a number of other factors to generate that feeling:

Abundance. Yes, you’re stuck on a big boat with loads of other folks, but you’re also “stuck with” the ample sunshine and mid-winter warmth of the Caribbean. Vibrant Miami to the historic seaside promenades of San Juan, Puerto Rico and then on to the crystal-blue beaches of Antigua and Tortola: it could be worse. A concerned citizen could also rightly question the decadence of 24/7 buffet lines with foods from all over the world—and of paying handsomely for them. At the same time, that citizen could not deny that access to such deliciousness puts travelers in a more relaxed state of mind. It is a vacation, after all.

Freedom from responsibility. Life gets a lot easier when you don’t have to worry about cooking, cleaning, or housekeeping. From galley to bridge, the Norwegian Cruise Lines staff proved remarkably courteous, cheerful, and proficient. Everyone seemed sincerely interested in making the trip both comfortable and easy and they clearly understood the value of taking a break from life’s regular demands.

Isolation from isolating technologies. This may not hold true even two or three years from now, but, for the moment, the ship still offers a haven from the houndings of the digital world. Cell phone coverage and internet connection, while available, remain prohibitively expensive. TV selection stays thin. Without the distractions of texting, e-mail, and social networking, folks turn their attention to each other and to the musical wonders in front of them. They settle into the now.

Good cheer. The trip’s promoters, a merry and motley crew called Sixthman, do a good job creating a welcoming, playful atmosphere. They respond flexibly to good suggestions and they give generously to make sure that passengers have a great time. The Sixthman folks work hard, often into the wee hours, and they have as much fun as anyone else.

An invested crowd. Unlike most cruises or winter break junkets, Cayamo cruisers don’t take the trip just to laze around or booze it up. With a shared sense of purpose and joy, there’s little need for the idiocy and obnoxiousness of overt, intentional drunkenness.[2] Folks come for the music. That makes a strong sense of connection.

Collaboration. The musicians on Cayamo revel in the opportunity to play with other musicians. Everyone stays on the boat so they get time to dream up original arrangements and to rehearse them. And every night brings some new combination of artists. Shawn Mullins’ lead guitarist delivered an incandescent exchange with Taylor Goldsmith, the lead singer of Dawes. Goldsmith in turn showed up to help power a driving Delta Rae version of Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain.” Keb Mo’ sang a touching duet with Joan Osborne. Brandi Carlile raced from her closing set to sneak into the end of a multi-artist concert tribute to Levon Helm of The Band. The multiple permutations create a kind of magic—the audience never knows who’s going to use that extra microphone or step behind that added drum set but it knows someone will.

Stewardship. The artists recognize they’ve got it good and want to pass their fortune along. On this trip, well-seasoned vets like Lyle Lovett and Buddy Miller graciously ceded stage time to lesser-known newcomers or long-time band members. Chart-toppers like Edwin McCain (he of “I’ll Be” [link to McCain song]) spoke of someone else having given them a shot and feeling a drive to return the favor. Brandi Carlile pulled an understandably wide-eyed 17-year old girl on stage in the middle of a concert to give her a brand new electric guitar. Such visible generosity inspires a similar sense of responsibility among audience and crew members alike. People want to take care of the trip’s preciousness.[3]

Serendipity. Again, because the whole trip happens with everyone tucked in so tightly, you never know who you’ll run into or what magic moment will appear out of nowhere. One late night, just after I had prepared myself for bed, I called down to the front desk to make last-minute arrangements for the next day. I got frustrated when they insisted that I had to come to the service desk to make my request in person, but reluctantly got myself appropriate and trudged my way down a few floors and back to the middle of the boat. On my return trip to our room, I heard a beautiful voice singing a Patty Griffin song to simple piano accompaniment and when I turned the corner saw Brandi Carlile performing for about a dozen slack-jawed folks. I joined them and got to enjoy a half-hour’s worth of acoustic sing-along requests. So much for my frustration. I heard similar stories from other nights when I had gone to bed early.

Mingling with the talent. Cayamo breaks down the standard consumer mindset of fandom and allows for a much more relational interaction. You run into artists on the elevators or in the buffet lines. You sit next to them on the beach or at another artist’s show in the main theater. And it’s all cool. As we stood in the waves waiting for a tender boat back to our day-trip shuttle, I chatted with Ian Hölljes, a lead singer of Delta Rae, about his experience of the band’s budding fame. Walking out from lunch on the last full day, I ran into the drummer and bassist from Dawes and got to share my admiration for their songwriting and musical originality. I shared a lovely conversation with Joanne Berry, mother of Phil and Tim Hanserroth, the über-cool identical twins who back Brandi Carlile, before their outdoor showcase set. (Apparently, I bear a striking resemblance to the twins’ older brother, an impression they laughingly confirmed when my sister, Jennifer, my partner, Melissa, and I got a photo with them after the show.) Such connections dissolve the usual hierarchies of stardom. The literal truth becomes figurative as well: we were all on the same boat, all fans of great music.

Appreciation for the music. In the end, Cayamo comes back to the music. All those other factors—the abundance and withdrawal of vacation, the collaboration and stewardship of gifted artists, the investment of other cruisers and the serendipity of precious moments—lets the music reach even deeper. One mid-trip morning as we both got teary recalling Dawes’ poignant lyrics to “A Little Bit Of Everything”, my partner Melissa put it well:

Every day on this trip, I’m getting more and more of a sense how music is such a gift. It’s a gift for the musicians who write and play because they get to make sense of the complexities in their own lives in ways that simple words just can’t do. And it’s a gift for us that they bring us along for the ride, that we get to witness their vulnerability—and that they help us face our own.

Melissa and I shared that experience and I’m confident that most of the more than 2300 other passengers were feeling similarly. There’s a tenderness, a joy, and an intimacy that comes from creating that kind of open-hearted time together. Life gets fuller and more vibrant.

It’s true that a cruise ship wouldn’t usually make the top of my list for an ideal vacation. But Cayamo’s no ordinary cruise ship. Mix golden sunshine and Caribbean blue with all these other components and you get more than a vacation—you get a healthy community. It’s no wonder that people return to Cayamo year after year (my folks have gone on all six sailings!). It’s no wonder too that I’m drawn to similar settings for my work. Summer camp, off-site professional retreats, boarding school: each offers the chance for immersive growth experiences. When we put down our distractions and turn toward each other in common purpose—and do so kindly and generously—we cruise to greater creativity. We build a better moment and eventually a better world.