It was a big night on the Disney Fantasy, after a day at sea, circling between South Florida and the Bahamas. A pirate party was planned on the pool deck after dark – the crew covers the pools in wood decking, and people get out and dance, followed by fireworks. At dinner, there were red pirate bandanas by our plates, and our waiter carefully tied them around our heads, Johnny Depp-style.
Then late came word that our sister ship, the Disney Dream, was nearby and there would be dueling fireworks shows at sea. There was a rush for standing room on the walkways above the pool deck.
Then it was time, and the Disney Dream began shooting off fireworks. A short time later, the Disney Fantasy responded with its own fireworks show. A pirate character called the shots from a stage at the front of the pool area.
When the fireworks were over, the music began, different songs but a continuous drum beat underlying them all. On the dance floor, everybody moved, a seething, pulsing mass – moms, dad, kids, young couples. The pool deck was now a nightclub, Club Pirate. A deejay kept the music going, but the real stars were pirates with microphones that moved through the crowd, talking and showing off dance moves.
By midnight, the dance party was over, the skull and crossbones on the screen had said goodnight. One of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies started on the big screen. People dragged out chairs, and within minutes, the dance party had become a movie-watching party. Argh!