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stereotype. Both were too quiet and kept to themselves.
    Morgan , who clammed up when anyone tried to have the simplest conversation with him , had disappeared into his cabin the minute we boarded . N o one had seen him since. He was either seasick or really anti-social . J udging from his permanent scowl , I voted for Door Number Two. When he did appear, h e ju st watched people with his cold little eyes. I guess if you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, you could call him the strong, silent type.
    Ortiz was more social and had created a stir among the ladies with his lean but powerful presence and bold black-brown eyes.
    I slipped out of the Broadway Showroom just as the magician was beginning his act. The spacious , tiered auditorium was filled from the top level — where the big sound and light control board was located — all the way down to the stage. His performance was a comic one, combining magic and jokes and using a lot of funny sound effects and voice synthesizers. It was really quite good, but I had seen him before on previous cruises and I thought I should finish my rounds. I wanted to be sure everyone was having a good time on the first night out.
    A few High Steppers were in the casino. As soon as a ship enters international waters, the casino opens and at least one or two of our clients always plant themselves there , only emerg ing to eat or sleep.
    I saw Al Bostick in the casino, slouched over a blackjack table, the lines in his face deepened in concentration . He was wearing the same sad old clothes he had worn on the plane. His long gray hair was slicked back and greasy and h is thin lips moved slightly. I was fairly sure he was counting cards , but if the dealer noticed, he didn’t say anything to Al. Behind the blackjack tables, Maria Petrone, eyes glazed over , was steadily feeding a quarter slot as if she were an orange-polyester extension of the machine.
    Fernando Ortiz was slow-dancing in the Starlight Lounge with a young, gorgeous, blue-eyed blonde. Fast worker, that guy . Only a few hours on board , and he had already hooked up. Maybe he wa s a super-salesman after all.
    I have to admit; I’m not a fan of tiny, doll- like blondes. I am tall, with all this wild black hair and stormy, gray eyes , and I am well aware that I would make a far better witch than fairy princess. Those witch parts were the ones I always got in school plays, from the third grade on .
    Jay was nowhere to be found . He always cruises the ship the first night out to “see if there’s anyone interesting aboard , darling , ” s o I was quite alone, for once, and happy to be so.
    There is something so truly wonderful about a big ship, at least for me. I love to travel. Anyone would, who came from my tiny little home town. That’s why I headed to New York when I had the chance.
    But I always feel a n extra-special thrill on a huge ocean liner when the long line s are dropped and the ship slips away from the pier. I love the parting blast of her horn and the feel of her deck under my f eet as she cross es the bar and enter s deep water. I might have considered joining the Navy, but my mother would have passed out at the thought . She would have insist ed that the naval life was entirely too rough for a delicate Southern flower like me. You should have heard everything she said when I told her I was skipping college, and mor e importantly, sorority rush , to mov e to New York and work for a travel agen cy .
    On the stern deck, I leaned over the rail, the wind whi pping at my hair, and watched the white foam boil up behind us as the huge screws churned their way through the dark ocean. I’ve been on dozens of cruises in my career and have never, ever tire d of it. Granted, the bingo and horse racing games and theme nights on some ships get old, but for the most part, I don’t mind because I really, really love the sea.
    Immersed in the moment , I didn’t see or hear the approach of Johnny Depp’s stand-in until