2 night caribbean cruise

Weekend cruises: How to find 2- and 3-night getaways

Weekend trips let you get away without missing too much work or school — but what if your preferred escape is a cruise? I'm here to tell you that weekend cruises are a real thing and can be a wonderful way of getting your ship fix when you're short on time.

The days of the two-night cruise to nowhere are gone, but two- and three-night weekend cruises still exist from ports ranging from Miami to Los Angeles. Read on to learn who sails these short getaways, where you can go and how much that weekend jaunt to the Bahamas is going to cost you.

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Best weekend cruise itineraries

If you're looking to hop a ship for a few nights, you can't just sail from anywhere to anywhere. It's not like booking a hotel. Thanks to the complicated Passenger Vessel Services Act , foreign-flagged cruise ships cannot leave port, sail in circles with their casinos, shops and spas open, then return back to port two nights later. Nor can they hop from one U.S. city to another. Ships need to call in another country before heading back – which limits where you can sail on a weekend cruise.

The most popular weekend cruises sail from Miami, Port Canaveral or Palm Beach in Florida, to the Bahamas, with one or two stops in Nassau, Freeport or the cruise line's private island. Consider it a quick dash to the beach — ironic because you have to get to a warm-weather, coastal area to meet your ship in the first place.

On the Pacific Coast, weekend cruises from Los Angeles, San Diego or Long Beach in California (near Los Angeles) head to Ensenada, Mexico for a quick getaway. Farther north, you might find a short repositioning sailing between Seattle or San Francisco and Vancouver, British Columbia at the beginning or end of the Alaska cruise season .

Weekend cruises from New York or other East Coast ports like Boston or Baltimore don't really exist because two or three nights is not enough time to get to Canada, Bermuda or the Bahamas and back again.

Related: Caribbean vs. Bahamas cruises: Which itinerary will I like more?

The other key thing to understand is a weekend cruise will typically require some time off work or missed school. That's because most cruise ships board in the afternoon and depart in the early evening then return to port in the morning. You can't punch out of work at 5 p.m. on Friday, hop aboard a ship and return Sunday night.

The most likely scenario is that you'll arrive at your ship Friday afternoon for a three-night cruise, which will deliver you back to port on Monday morning. Depending on your working hours, you might need to take a half day off on Friday and arrive late to work on Monday. If you've got a flexible schedule or Fridays off — no problem. A few lines offer Thursday or Saturday departures for three-night cruises, but they're rare and would require more missed school or work.

Two-nighters are rare in the weekend cruise world but do exist. The key line for cruisers short on time is Bahamas Paradise Cruise Line (come late April, it will transition into Margaritaville at Sea ).

This line sails exclusively two-night cruises back and forth between West Palm Beach, Florida, and Freeport, Bahamas. Depending on the week, you could depart on a Friday, spend Saturday on Grand Bahama Island and come home Sunday. Or, leave Saturday, beach it up Sunday and return Monday morning.

Cruise lines sailing 2- and 3-night weekend cruises

You can count on Bahamas Paradise/Margaritaville at Sea for a quick weekend cruise fix, but that's a one-ship cruise line sailing an older, refurbished ship. From the major cruise lines, most of the big-ship lines offer a consistent schedule of three-night cruises. The higher-end, luxury lines rarely offer a sailing that short.

Carnival Cruise Line , Disney Cruise Line , MSC Cruises , Norwegian Cruise Line and Royal Caribbean all offer three-night Bahamas cruises from Florida to Nassau and/or the line's private island. Departure ports include Miami, Port Canaveral and Fort Lauderdale.

Carnival, Disney and Royal Caribbean also take care of West Coast folks with three-night sailings from southern California (Long Beach, Los Angeles and San Diego) to Ensenada, Mexico.

You can count on those lines to offer entire seasons of short sailings. A few other lines, such as Holland America or Princess Cruises , will offer the occasional repositioning sailing along the Pacific Coast between San Francisco or Seattle and Vancouver. Sometimes those short cruises will fall over a weekend, allowing you that quick getaway without missing work.

Weekend cruise cost

Cheap weekend cruises are not hard to find; three-night sailings are among the most affordable cruises you can buy, both because you're not on board all that long, and because cruise lines often put older ships without the latest wow-factor attractions on these routes.

I'm currently seeing three-night Bahamas cruises from $129 per person, based on two people sharing an inside (windowless) cabin . That breaks down to $43/night for transportation, food, accommodations and entertainment for one person ($86/night for a couple). You'll have a hard time finding a hotel for that price, let alone lodging plus multiple meals.

The cheapest balcony cabin I found was just shy of $200 total for one person (under $65 per night), though fares in the $200s and $300s were more common.

Prices will vary depending on the cruise line, ship, sail date and how far in advance you're booking. If you're flexible on timing, look for the best weekend cruise deals and plan your getaway for those dates.

Related: 6 ways to get a deal on a cruise

Three-night Mexico cruises at press time are starting at $149 per person ($50 per night), with balconies from $237 ($79 per night).

Note that Disney cruises to the Bahamas or Mexico are priced much higher than other cruise lines. Pricing for a three-night Disney Mexico cruise starts just shy of $1,000 per person for an inside cabin and a three-night Bahamas cruise from $625 per person. Still, it's cheaper than a weeklong Disney cruise.

Pros and cons of weekend cruises

Weekend cruises only work if you live within easy driving distance of a departure port. That way, you can still work half a day on Friday and simply arrive back to work a little late on Monday (assuming you're a 9-to-5-er).

If you need to fly or drive many hours to your departure port, you're looking at more of a long weekend with a day or two of time off from work required. However, if you have a flexible schedule or work off hours, a weekend cruise is definitely doable.

Weekend cruises have many benefits, the obvious one being they do not require missing much school or work. They're more affordable than a longer cruise, so they can be great for folks on a budget. You can tack them onto a longer vacation in Florida or California to combine two trips into one.

These short trips are also a great way to rack up points toward elite status on your favorite cruise line, especially if you book a suite that earns you extra points.

Related: Short cruises are cheaper, but are they right for you?

The drawbacks are the lack of choice in destination and cruise line. You won't be able to try every restaurant or attraction on board your cruise ship because you simply won't have enough time.

If you party hard, get sunburned or wear yourself out with lots of active shore excursions, you might come home exhausted instead of well rested and not ready to return to the office on Monday.

Weekend cruises also have a reputation for being party cruises. The last time I sailed on a three-night cruise, I met lots of ladies on bachelorette party getaways, and the nightclub, bars and karaoke were hopping each evening — more so than on longer cruises. If you're looking for a more sedate atmosphere, a longer cruise might be more your speed.

Bottom line

Weekend cruises are a fun way to get your ship fix without taking a full vacation or breaking the bank. They make more sense if you live within an hour or two of your cruise ship's departure port, but it can still be worth taking a long weekend for a three-day cruise even if you have to build in some travel time.

However, if you love cruising so much that you might have a hard time leaving a ship after just a few nights, you might want to skip the weekend sailing and save up for a weeklong cruise instead.

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Getaway Cruises

Relax and rejuvenate at sea on short cruises.

Best Cruise Line for a Weekend Getaway

Slip away from everyday life and sail into relaxation on Getaway cruises with Princess®. Travel to ports along the West Coast, explore cities in Mexico, or visit the islands of the Caribbean. Whether you prefer to bask in the sun or watch Movies Under the Stars®, find a range of activities for every guest. Choose from a variety of short itineraries or a weekend Getaway cruise, and experience true relaxation with Princess.

West Coast wanderlust

California Coast Getaways

Bask in the beauty of the West Coast on Getaway cruises. On one-way itineraries, continue exploring ashore when you end your trip in a new city like Vancouver, Seattle or Astoria. Or visit California’s popular cities such as San Diego, Ensenada, San Francisco or Los Angeles on roundtrip itineraries. The West Coast awaits on a Getaway cruise.

Find endless fiesta in Cabo

Cabo San Lucas Getaways

On a Cabo San Lucas Getaway cruise, travel to the Baja Peninsula, where the Pacific meets the Sea of Cortez, and discover the many marvels of Cabo, best known for its famous arched rock formation, El Arco. Enjoy exhilarating snorkeling, or unwind with a cocktail and sunbathing on the beach. With an overnight stay in Cabo included on every itinerary, you’ll have plenty of time to explore and unwind with Princess.

Clear waters and white-sand beaches

Caribbean Getaways

Sun-kissed beaches and vibrant coral reefs await on Caribbean Getaway cruises. Sunbathe on the shores of Princess Cays, Princess' Private Island resort. Swim alongside stingrays, and ride a banana just off the shore. Or explore the Bermudan-British colonial architecture and historic sites like the Old Prison or Lighthouse of Grand Turk. Revel in the sunshine and famous Caribbean blue waters with Princess.

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Why Sail on a Getaway Cruise with Princess

Relax & rejuvenate.

Whether it’s one day to relax or six days to reset, unwind on board any of our Getaway cruises. Lounge by the pool, take a dip in the hot tub and sip on refreshing cocktails without ever having to wait in line at the bar with the use of Princess MedallionClass®. Or treat yourself to a massage at the Lotus Spa®, attend culinary demonstrations in the Princess Theater and watch Movies Under the Stars®. The possibilities are endless with Princess.

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You might not understand the thrill of cruising until you’ve experienced it yourself. With Getaway cruises, get a taste of ocean travel in just a short trip away. Visit iconic cities, indulge in international cuisine and immerse yourself in new cultures. After a few days of relaxation on board and exploration ashore, you can decide which adventure to embark on next with Princess.

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Every special occasion is better shared together, and what better way to celebrate than a Getaway cruise with Princess. From birthdays and anniversaries to vow renewals and family reunions, find onboard activities and adventures ashore for every guest in your party. With our Getaway cruise deals, discover even more reasons to celebrate with your friends or family on a cruise vacation.

Increase your loyalty status

Revel in the perks of our Captain’s Circle Membership benefits when you embark on another Princess vacation. Every trip earns you credit – even short Getaway cruises – to get you one step closer to the next membership tier. This means more discounts, upgrades and pre-sale opportunities. Depending on the loyalty level, you can also enjoy complimentary services, like wine-tastings, hors d’oeuvres and priority embarkation.

Shore excursions

Trace the footsteps of ancient Mayan civilizations, and learn how to prepare salsa while sipping margaritas in Mexico. Snorkel in the turquoise waters of the Caribbean. Or sip famous wines in California and shop at the oldest open-air-farmer’s market on the Pacific Coast in Washington. The choice is yours on Getaway Cruises with Princess.

Short Cruise Onboard Activities

Sunbathe by the pool, attend Broadway-style productions or indulge in regionally inspired cuisine. Whatever relaxation means to you, find it on board a Getaway cruise with Princess.

Destination-Themed Activities

Immersive experiences await

Connect with the cultures and cuisine of each region with destination-themed activities on every Getaway cruise itinerary. Smell the aroma of each West Coast wine. Listen to the Caribbean steel pan drums, or feel the rhythm of Mexico’s mariachis as they perform. Whether you’re headed to California or the Caribbean, immerse yourself in the best of the region on board.

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On any Getaway cruise, dive into relaxation with a dip in the sparkling pools or hot tubs. Soak up the sun on our padded loungers, and sip on cocktails from the bar while watching pool competitions from your chaise. Or join in on the pool games and partake in the fun alongside fellow guests. On select ships, unwind in The Sanctuary, a retreat just for adults, and let the kids frolic through the Splash Zone.

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Sip and savor the best from each region with cooking demonstrations and wine tastings on board. Learn how to prepare local delicacies during chef-led presentations, and taste them for yourself in any of the dining rooms and specialty restaurants. Or indulge in unique beverages crafted by expert Mixologist Rob Floyd. Set sail on a true sensory experience with Getaway cruises from Princess.

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Play your way

Whether you prefer blackjack or roulette, find world-class games in the casino on board every Getaway cruise. Roll the die and test your luck with poker, or let fate run its course on the slot machines. Sharpen your skills with lessons from our staff, and then show off your expertise at the table. Or enjoy games on the go, including Keno on Deck® and bingo, when you access Play Ocean® through the MedallionClass app.

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Marvel in every masterpiece

Reignite your love for art on any of our Getaway cruises. Peruse the onboard art gallery, and learn about the history and creation of each piece from our experts. Or partake in daily auctions for a chance to take home famous pieces from artists like Thomas Kinkade, Peter Max and Michael Godard. Our crew can even ship it right to your door, so you can save the extra room in your suitcase for duty-free purchases made at the Shops of Princess.

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From eyewear to skincare and everything in between, treat yourself to the ultimate souvenir at the Shops of Princess. Voted “Best Onboard Shopping” by Porthole Magazine, our shops are all duty-free. This means you can splurge on yourself or your loved ones without having to spend extra on taxes. Find your favorite brands – like Swarovski, Calvin Klein and Chanel – right on board your Getaway cruise.

Getaway Cruises Articles and Videos

Sometimes you just need to get away from it all. On a short getaway cruise, you'll experience elegant accommodations, internationally-inspired cuisine

Getaway to the Best of Both Coasts on Florida and California Vacations

Florida and California vacations can whisk you away from the hustle and bustle of your everyday life. Ready to plan yours?

Try Pacific Coast Cruises for a Quick Getaway Vacation

Need a quick getaway? Check out Los Angeles and Ensenada, Mexico, in one weekend on one of Princess Cruises' Pacific Coast cruises.

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Need a Short Vacation? Use These Tips to Plan Your Next Getaway

In need of an escape from the stresses of daily life, but only have a few days to spare? Here's how to plan a quick, relaxing short vacation getaway.

Plan a Vacation to Ensenada, Mexico

When you plan a vacation to Mexico, make time to visit historic Ensenada.

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Sip wine in Guadalupe Valley, unwind on the shores of Lover's Beach and do it all with your best friends by your side on a bachelorette cruise with Princess.

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Find the best 2-night cruise on your budget and book your unforgettable vacation today. Here you will find amazing 2-nights cruise trips around the year. Discover a wide selection of itineraries, ships, and cruise lines for your 2-nights getaway. Whether you seek a family cruise or an adult-only retreat, book now on CruiseBooking.com for an unforgettable experience.

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Choose from a variety of exciting itineraries that allow you to escape during the week or weekend aboard one of our award-winning ships—from our revolutionized Celebrity Summit® to the breathtaking Celebrity Reflection®. Departing from Miami or Fort Lauderdale, your luxury getaway will feel anything but rushed as you visit exciting destinations, including Key West, Nassau, Bimini, and Perfect Day® at CocoCay®. From blissful beaches to historic forts, these islands provide the perfect mix of history, culture, exploration, and relaxation. So, what are you waiting for? Stop daydreaming and start day tripping on a quick tropical getaway that will revive you in no time.

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For the first time ever, we’re taking you to one of the Caribbean’s most exclusive islands, Perfect Day at CocoCay. Royal Caribbean’s award-winning private island destination combines the best of beachside bliss and sun-soaked excitement.

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Cozumel offers something for every kind of traveler—divers, sun seekers, and outdoor enthusiasts alike. Discover shopping and dining near the port. Marvel at the Maya ruins of San Gervasio. Or embark on a Private Journey tour to Playa Mia Grand Beach Park, where you’ll enjoy a Mexican lunch and open bar. Curious about the culinary side of Cozumel? Join us for an intimate sensory journey, where you’ll visit a local market, the Mayan Cacao Company, a local restaurant, and much more.

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Nassau is most known for its vibrant coral reefs, delicious culinary experiences—including some of the world’s top seafood—and famous open-air markets. Explore the island’s history at the British-colonial Fort Charlotte. Or join us for a relaxing day at Pearl Island, where you’ll enjoy your own private ocean-view cabana, complete with a complimentary cocktail, snacks, and a traditional Bahamian lunch. Then, gear up and explore the subterranean world during an underwater guided adventure.

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Lush mountains, pristine beaches, awe-inspiring waterfalls. Puerto Plata is a favorite destination for travelers from around the world. Explore the El Choco National Park, swim with dolphins at World Ocean, or discover the coral island of Cayo Arena on a private catamaran cruise with us followed by lunch at a beachfront restaurant. Whatever you choose, bliss awaits you in the Dominican Republic.

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2-Night Bahamas Cruise

The easy way to getaway.

A 3-day and 2-night Bahamas getaway aboard the Margaritaville at Sea Paradise is the perfect microvacation to leave you feeling refreshed and restored any time of year. With a full day in Grand Bahama Island, you'll have just enough time to plan a one-of-a-kind shore excursion and explore the rich ecological diversity of this white-sand wonderland.

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Find your fun and get into the Margaritaville state of mind, at sea.

2-NIGHT BAHAMAS CRUISE ITINERARY

Day 1 – Palm Beach, FL Port of Palm Beach Departs: 5:00pm

Day 2 – Freeport Grand Bahama Island 7:00am - 4:30pm

Day 3 – Palm Beach, FL Port of Palm Beach Arrives: 7:00am 

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Your adventure begins at the Port of Palm Beach terminal as you board the Margaritaville at Sea Paradise. Inspired by the sea, sand, and sky, our cruise ship has it all. With breathtaking ocean view staterooms and suites, tantalizing culinary experiences, thrilling shows, and nonstop casino action, you’ll get lost in the music, dance under the stars, and escape the everyday. Spend the next day on Grand Bahama Island where you can relax on the beach, take a shore excursion, or explore all the ship has to offer before your beautiful return voyage back to Palm Beach.

PARADISE EXPERIENCES

Let the good times roll on the Margaritaville at Sea Paradise. Something exciting is happening on board every moment from sunrise to sunset. The newly upgraded ship is decked out with a rejuvenating spa and fitness center, show-stopping nightly entertainment, a lively casino, casual and fine dining, bars, lounges, kid’s clubs, pools, hot tubs, and much more. Find your favorite hangout on one of our 10 passenger decks and join us for a toast!

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Indulge in casual bites and late-night delights, or dine in elegance at one of our specialty restaurants. Enjoy fine wines, craft beers or a cold LandShark at one of our signature bars, or relax in style while you listen to the music and sip refreshing cocktails in one of our uniquely themed lounges.

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On our boat, there’s always a party in the makin’! Find fun on every deck and enjoy diverse and talented musicians, late-night comedy hours, game shows for the whole family, streaming concerts at sea, themed parties, kids programming, and so much more

Beauty & Wellness

Indulge in a moment of relaxation and keep up your fitness routine at sea. St. Somewhere Spa & Salon offers a full range of treatments and services, while Fins Up! Fitness Center offers the chance to enjoy an invigorating workout as you gaze out over turquoise waters.

Margaritaville Casino

Welcome to the all-new Margaritaville Casino, fully upgraded with our new Players Loyalty Program, live action table games, slots, ultra-modern sports betting, and more. Featuring high quality play in an intimate, casual-luxe setting, everyone from high-rolling experts to first-time players can turn up the adventure at Margaritaville Casino.

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From vibrant deck parties, flair bartending, and open-air cornhole tournaments to fun-filled arcade games and interactive kids programs, Margaritaville at Sea Paradise is all about fun getaways for everyone. Soak up the warm sun and sweeping ocean views as you join in games and activities for all ages.

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How Much Does a Caribbean Cruise Cost?

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Many vacation goers who spend time exploring the Caribbean islands choose to do so by cruise ship. A cruise can be a stress-free way to soak up the sun and sand at incredible tropical destinations.

If you're new to cruising, you may wonder, how much is a Caribbean cruise?

The total cost of a cruise can vary depending on many factors, such as the departure port, itinerary, length, travel dates and the type of cabin booked. Additionally, the desired experience you're going for can influence the cost.

A luxury, all-inclusive cruise will cost significantly more, while a no-frills Caribbean cruise can be cheaper. Before booking, find out what considerations you should make to determine the cost of a Caribbean cruise.

Anticipated Caribbean cruise costs

As you research potential Caribbean cruise itineraries, consider the total cost. Most cruise lines only show the base price of each cruise, and the price you see is usually the cost per person per room (based on double occupancy).

In addition to the base price, you can expect to pay taxes and port fees. Planning for all costs in advance can help you avoid surprises .

How much is a short-term cruise to the Caribbean?

We looked at a sample of four-night cruises to the Caribbean across multiple cruise lines departing in March 2024.

Based on our findings, we've determined an average base Caribbean cruise cost for less than a week to be $383 per person per room. This price doesn't include taxes, fees or other port expenses.

» Learn more: The best ways to book a cruise

How much is a weeklong cruise to the Caribbean?

Do you prefer to book a more extended cruise? We looked at a sample of seven-night cruises to the Caribbean across multiple cruise lines departing in March 2024.

Based on our findings, we've determined an average base Caribbean cruise cost for a week to be $635 plus taxes and port fees.

» Learn more: The best cruise lines

Costs to consider when planning a Caribbean cruise

For the sake of your budget, keep in mind that the base rate you see advertised isn't the full price you'll pay when you book a cruise. Below are some other expenses to be aware of as you plan your Caribbean cruise adventure:

Taxes and port fees

The advertised base price doesn't include taxes or port fees.

Exact prices vary depending on cruise length, destinations and other factors, but you should expect to pay an additional amount for these costs.

Some cruise lines allow you to prepay for gratuities when booking, but it's still an added expense, no matter when you pay,

If you don't prepay, many cruise lines will automatically bill gratuities to your onboard account during your cruise. Be sure to research policies and costs before booking your cruise so you're not surprised at the end of your trip.

Cabin upgrades

The price that you see advertised is for the cheapest available option, which is likely an interior cabin.

If you want to book a cabin with an ocean view, a balcony or any other upgrades, expect to pay an upcharge. However, you can obtain a more affordable rate by booking a standard room.

Premium meals

When you book a cruise, various food offerings are included in the price you pay.

Typically you'll have access to buffets, dining room offerings and casual poolside fare. However, you may wish to splurge on premium beverages or dine at specialty restaurants. If that's the case, expect to budget for these additional costs.

It can be pricey to drink on a cruise. If you're paying per drink, expect to spend a lot of money.

Most cruise lines offer alcoholic drink packages that include specific types of beverages for a set price. You'll want to plan for this extra cost if you plan to drink on your vacation.

Booking shore excursions can be a great way to participate in local experiences at each port of call.

While booking through the cruise operator is convenient, it may cost more than exploring the port on your own. Plan to pay for any tours or activities you book, many of which start at $100 or more for a half-day adventure.

Travel costs

Unless you live in the port city you're departing from, you'll want to plan for extra travel costs. First, consider whether you can drive to the port or if you'll need to fly.

In addition to transit costs, you may need to budget for a hotel stay at your departure port. Those with travel credit cards may want to consider redeeming their rewards to cover the cost of a hotel or plane ticket.

» Learn more: The pros and cons of cruises

How to save money on the cost of a Caribbean cruise

Look for deals.

If you want to score a reasonable Caribbean cruise price, look for deals.

Booking a cruise well in advance is one way to get a better price. Another way is to look for last-minute cruise deals . Many cruise lines discount prices a month or two before sailing to fill empty cabins.

Having the right credit card in your wallet may help you save money on a cruise, and cruise line-specific credit cards can be a good fit for brand loyalists.

Once you have collected enough points, you can redeem them for room upgrades, onboard credit, companion fares or even a discounted sailing.

Loyalty programs

Many cruise lines have free loyalty programs that can offer valuable benefits. Becoming a member can earn discounts or qualify for upgrades or other perks that make your next cruise more enjoyable.

These programs are best for loyal cruise-goers, but even first-time cruisers may find value in joining.

» Learn more: Seven tips for getting the best deal on your next cruise

Caribbean cruise cost recapped

Now that you know how much a Caribbean cruise costs, you can begin to plan an unforgettable cruise adventure .

Consider taking advantage of ways to save money, like booking a standard cabin, planning your cruise well in advance and using travel rewards credit cards to reduce overall travel costs.

If you're strategic, you can book a memorable — and affordable — cruise vacation.

How to maximize your rewards

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Port Canaveral (Orlando), FL

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• Carnival Glory
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• Carnival Venezia
• Carnival Vista

* Coming Soon

Buckle up for big adventure on the Space Coast when you book a Carnival cruise from Port Canaveral, Florida. Fun in the sun is a mission easily accomplished in Port Canaveral: before or after your cruise, take time to blast off from the Kennedy Space Center, hug the turns in a stock car at the world famous speedway, and zoom through the screaming roller coasters of Orlando's theme parks. In addition to all these man-made thrills, cruises from Port Canaveral depart from a coastline of sugary sand beaches and protected islands for native wildlife.

• See a rocket up close at the Kennedy Space Center ™ .
• Walk the bustling Cocoa Beach boardwalk before your cruise from Port Canaveral.
• Encounter exotic animals and exciting adventures at Disney's Animal Kingdom ® park.
• Enjoy an exciting wildlife and alligator tour by airboat.

Gotta see Port Canaveral (Orlando)?

We have a few ideas for you.

* Taxes, fees, and port expenses are additional per person.

I Just Took a 3-Night Royal Caribbean Cruise -- Here's What I Loved, and What I Didn't

I 'm an avid cruiser. I love being on the ocean, spending time in the sun, and exploring several new places in a single trip without having to take multiple flights. Over the past two years alone, I've cruised seven times, sometimes with my wife, sometimes with my wife and children, and sometimes with friends.

Until recently, the cruises I've taken all had one thing in common -- they were five nights or longer in duration.

However, my wife and I just got back from a short, three-night sailing on Royal Caribbean's Allure of the Seas , a massive cruise ship that typically sails three- and four-night itineraries out of Port Canaveral in Florida (it's moving to Miami in a couple months). Here's a rundown of our likes and dislikes from the experience, and whether we'd take a three-night cruise again.

Things I loved about our three-night cruise

For starters, since the cruise was Friday through Monday, and we were off the ship by 7:30 a.m. Monday morning, I only had to miss one day of work to take the trip. It was essentially a long weekend trip, so it was very convenient. In contrast, we took a five-night cruise last summer and had to miss an entire week for the Monday through Saturday sailing.

There were a few other things we loved. Because it was a shorter duration than other cruises we've taken, the charge on our credit card was significantly less expensive. A three-night cruise can be a budget-friendly way to try your first cruise, or to be able to cruise more often, without spending a ton of money.

We also never had any trouble finding things to do. We've taken longer cruises, and by the end, it sometimes felt as if we'd experienced everything we wanted to do on the ship. On this trip, we didn't even come close to checking all the items off our to-do list. This can be a positive or negative.

Finally, the vast majority of Royal Caribbean's three-night itineraries from Florida's east coast stop at the cruise line's private island, Perfect Day at Coco Cay. We absolutely loved the day at the private island and having seen the private islands of a couple of other cruise lines, it was definitely a step above. To be sure, you don't need to take a three-night cruise to get a stop at the island. But it's a great way to see it over a weekend.

What I wasn't a fan of

Our three-night cruise was on Royal Caribbean's Allure of the Seas , which is a big cruise ship. It is a member of the cruise line's Oasis class. Until the recent launch of the Icon of the Seas , these were the largest class of cruise ship in the world. The ship has 17 decks (floors), over a dozen restaurants, several shows, four pools, and many activities to do. To put it mildly, three days simply wasn't enough to see it all.

Because we had a relatively limited time on such a massive cruise ship, it was literally impossible to do everything we wanted to. We certainly tried. We dined at three different specialty restaurants, saw a different show every night, explored all the pool areas, and more. But there's a lot we didn't get to do. There were another two restaurants we would have loved to try, we never saw the ice show (this ship actually has an ice skating rink on board), and we never tried the Flow Riders (surfing simulators) that are on the ship.

To be fair, a week wouldn't have been enough either. And this could be a genius marketing strategy by Royal Caribbean that could entice people to travel back to the port for multiple weekend sailings.

We also would have liked one day at sea (as opposed to being at a port all day). Because of the short duration and two ports on the agenda, we didn't have much time out at sea when it was sunny and warm outside. One of our favorite parts of most cruises is having a day at sea for a relaxing day to wind down from the busy times when we're sightseeing and doing other things ashore.

Would we do a three-night cruise again?

Yes. We had an excellent three-night trip on the Allure of the Seas , and actually have already booked another three-night cruise for later this year on its sister ship, the Utopia of the Seas , which will be Royal Caribbean's newest ship when it sets sail in July. It might be worth it for you to consider a shorter duration cruise if you're new to this type of travel or just want a long weekend getaway -- for us, the pros definitely outweigh the cons.

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I spent $2,000 for 7 nights in a 179-square-foot room on one of the world's largest cruise ships. Take a look inside my cabin.

• I booked a stateroom on Royal Caribbean's Wonder of the Seas, one of the biggest cruise ships.
• For $2,000 a week, the 179-square-foot cabin had a private bathroom, a king-size bed, and a view.
• I thought I'd feel cramped in the room, but it had everything I needed and left no space unused.

In April 2022, I cruised on board Royal Caribbean's Wonder of the Seas . At the time, it was the largest cruise ship in the world , but the title has since been replaced by Royal Caribbean's Icon of the Seas .

During my voyage, the ship sailed to Roatán, Honduras; Cozumel and Costa Maya in Mexico; and Royal Caribbean's private island in the Bahamas .

For $2,000, I spent seven nights in an ocean-view stateroom on deck eight. The cruise was on sale, as it was originally priced at $3,000. Take a look inside the 179-square-foot space.

My room was a mid-tier cabin at the front of deck eight.

I booked a mid-tier room — a step above interior staterooms , which have no window. It's a category below staterooms with a balcony , and two steps below a suite.

My cabin was on the same deck as Central Park, an outdoor space with 20,000 plants.

I thought it was the most relaxing area on the ship, so I enjoyed being close by.

When I stepped inside my stateroom, I was surprised at how big it felt.

Right away, I thought the cabin made great use of a small space.

To operate most of the electricity in the room, I had to insert my room key into a slot on the wall.

I appreciated the energy-saving system.

On one side of the room, I had a mirror and a desk with several outlets to charge electronics with USB, American, and European ports.

I thought the desk was useful for eating, as well as storing daily flyers about the day's events.

Next to the desk, a set of drawers included a cabinet with a minifridge inside.

The desk drawers were mostly empty aside from a hair dryer, which I didn't end up using.

Across from the desk, I had a couch positioned in between two closets.

Inside each closet, I found a rack of hangers, shelving, and a small safe. I thought it was plenty of space for a weeklong journey

Next to the couch and desk area, a small bathroom used clever storage hacks, like placing the trash can and toilet paper under the counter.

In the bathroom, there were two glasses, a bar of soap, and a two-in-one hair and body wash.

At the top of the shower, a pullout clothing line was useful for drying my bathing suits.

Each night, my stateroom attendant replenished towels and brought flyers and schedules for the next day.

Sometimes, the towels were folded creatively to look like animals.

I noticed that my king-size bed at the back of the room was actually two twin beds pushed together.

All Royal Caribbean cabins come with this configuration, according to its website , so they may be separated for additional guests. I often woke up in the crevice.

A large flat-screen TV was mounted across from the bed with storage hooks below.

Skinny nightstands on either side of the bed held lamps, charging ports, and a room phone on one side.

Because I booked an ocean-view room, I was able to look out over the front of the ship from a window above my bed.

The window was equipped with an electronic shade that could be opened during the day for grand views and closed when I was ready to sleep.

While I thought the room might have been a tight space for a couple with a lot of luggage or a family, it was just right for me.

And watching the sun rise over the Caribbean Sea from the comfort of my room was the best part.

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Crying Myself to Sleep on the Biggest Cruise Ship Ever

Seven agonizing nights aboard the Icon of the Seas

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Updated at 2:44 p.m. ET on April 6, 2024.

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MY FIRST GLIMPSE of Royal Caribbean’s Icon of the Seas, from the window of an approaching Miami cab, brings on a feeling of vertigo, nausea, amazement, and distress. I shut my eyes in defense, as my brain tells my optic nerve to try again.

The ship makes no sense, vertically or horizontally. It makes no sense on sea, or on land, or in outer space. It looks like a hodgepodge of domes and minarets, tubes and canopies, like Istanbul had it been designed by idiots. Vibrant, oversignifying colors are stacked upon other such colors, decks perched over still more decks; the only comfort is a row of lifeboats ringing its perimeter. There is no imposed order, no cogent thought, and, for those who do not harbor a totalitarian sense of gigantomania, no visual mercy. This is the biggest cruise ship ever built, and I have been tasked with witnessing its inaugural voyage.

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“Author embarks on their first cruise-ship voyage” has been a staple of American essay writing for almost three decades, beginning with David Foster Wallace’s “A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again,” which was first published in 1996 under the title “Shipping Out.” Since then, many admirable writers have widened and diversified the genre. Usually the essayist commissioned to take to the sea is in their first or second flush of youth and is ready to sharpen their wit against the hull of the offending vessel. I am 51, old and tired, having seen much of the world as a former travel journalist, and mostly what I do in both life and prose is shrug while muttering to my imaginary dachshund, “This too shall pass.” But the Icon of the Seas will not countenance a shrug. The Icon of the Seas is the Linda Loman of cruise ships, exclaiming that attention must be paid. And here I am in late January with my one piece of luggage and useless gray winter jacket and passport, zipping through the Port of Miami en route to the gangway that will separate me from the bulk of North America for more than seven days, ready to pay it in full.

The aforementioned gangway opens up directly onto a thriving mall (I will soon learn it is imperiously called the “Royal Promenade”), presently filled with yapping passengers beneath a ceiling studded with balloons ready to drop. Crew members from every part of the global South, as well as a few Balkans, are shepherding us along while pressing flutes of champagne into our hands. By a humming Starbucks, I drink as many of these as I can and prepare to find my cabin. I show my blue Suite Sky SeaPass Card (more on this later, much more) to a smiling woman from the Philippines, and she tells me to go “aft.” Which is where, now? As someone who has rarely sailed on a vessel grander than the Staten Island Ferry, I am confused. It turns out that the aft is the stern of the ship, or, for those of us who don’t know what a stern or an aft are, its ass. The nose of the ship, responsible for separating the waves before it, is also called a bow, and is marked for passengers as the FWD , or forward. The part of the contemporary sailing vessel where the malls are clustered is called the midship. I trust that you have enjoyed this nautical lesson.

I ascend via elevator to my suite on Deck 11. This is where I encounter my first terrible surprise. My suite windows and balcony do not face the ocean. Instead, they look out onto another shopping mall. This mall is the one that’s called Central Park, perhaps in homage to the Olmsted-designed bit of greenery in the middle of my hometown. Although on land I would be delighted to own a suite with Central Park views, here I am deeply depressed. To sail on a ship and not wake up to a vast blue carpet of ocean? Unthinkable.

Allow me a brief preamble here. The story you are reading was commissioned at a moment when most staterooms on the Icon were sold out. In fact, so enthralled by the prospect of this voyage were hard-core mariners that the ship’s entire inventory of guest rooms (the Icon can accommodate up to 7,600 passengers, but its inaugural journey was reduced to 5,000 or so for a less crowded experience) was almost immediately sold out. Hence, this publication was faced with the shocking prospect of paying nearly $19,000 to procure for this solitary passenger an entire suite—not including drinking expenses—all for the privilege of bringing you this article. But the suite in question doesn’t even have a view of the ocean! I sit down hard on my soft bed. Nineteen thousand dollars for this .

The viewless suite does have its pluses. In addition to all the Malin+Goetz products in my dual bathrooms, I am granted use of a dedicated Suite Deck lounge; access to Coastal Kitchen, a superior restaurant for Suites passengers; complimentary VOOM SM Surf & Stream (“the fastest Internet at Sea”) “for one device per person for the whole cruise duration”; a pair of bathrobes (one of which comes prestained with what looks like a large expectoration by the greenest lizard on Earth); and use of the Grove Suite Sun, an area on Decks 18 and 19 with food and deck chairs reserved exclusively for Suite passengers. I also get reserved seating for a performance of The Wizard of Oz , an ice-skating tribute to the periodic table, and similar provocations. The very color of my Suite Sky SeaPass Card, an oceanic blue as opposed to the cloying royal purple of the standard non-Suite passenger, will soon provoke envy and admiration. But as high as my status may be, there are those on board who have much higher status still, and I will soon learn to bow before them.

In preparation for sailing, I have “priced in,” as they say on Wall Street, the possibility that I may come from a somewhat different monde than many of the other cruisers. Without falling into stereotypes or preconceptions, I prepare myself for a friendly outspokenness on the part of my fellow seafarers that may not comply with modern DEI standards. I believe in meeting people halfway, and so the day before flying down to Miami, I visited what remains of Little Italy to purchase a popular T-shirt that reads DADDY’S LITTLE MEATBALL across the breast in the colors of the Italian flag. My wife recommended that I bring one of my many T-shirts featuring Snoopy and the Peanuts gang, as all Americans love the beagle and his friends. But I naively thought that my meatball T-shirt would be more suitable for conversation-starting. “Oh, and who is your ‘daddy’?” some might ask upon seeing it. “And how long have you been his ‘little meatball’?” And so on.

I put on my meatball T-shirt and head for one of the dining rooms to get a late lunch. In the elevator, I stick out my chest for all to read the funny legend upon it, but soon I realize that despite its burnished tricolor letters, no one takes note. More to the point, no one takes note of me. Despite my attempts at bridge building, the very sight of me (small, ethnic, without a cap bearing the name of a football team) elicits no reaction from other passengers. Most often, they will small-talk over me as if I don’t exist. This brings to mind the travails of David Foster Wallace , who felt so ostracized by his fellow passengers that he retreated to his cabin for much of his voyage. And Wallace was raised primarily in the Midwest and was a much larger, more American-looking meatball than I am. If he couldn’t talk to these people, how will I? What if I leave this ship without making any friends at all, despite my T-shirt? I am a social creature, and the prospect of seven days alone and apart is saddening. Wallace’s stateroom, at least, had a view of the ocean, a kind of cheap eternity.

Worse awaits me in the dining room. This is a large, multichandeliered room where I attended my safety training (I was shown how to put on a flotation vest; it is a very simple procedure). But the maître d’ politely refuses me entry in an English that seems to verge on another language. “I’m sorry, this is only for pendejos ,” he seems to be saying. I push back politely and he repeats himself. Pendejos ? Piranhas? There’s some kind of P-word to which I am not attuned. Meanwhile elderly passengers stream right past, powered by their limbs, walkers, and electric wheelchairs. “It is only pendejo dining today, sir.” “But I have a suite!” I say, already starting to catch on to the ship’s class system. He examines my card again. “But you are not a pendejo ,” he confirms. I am wearing a DADDY’S LITTLE MEATBALL T-shirt, I want to say to him. I am the essence of pendejo .

Eventually, I give up and head to the plebeian buffet on Deck 15, which has an aquatic-styled name I have now forgotten. Before gaining entry to this endless cornucopia of reheated food, one passes a washing station of many sinks and soap dispensers, and perhaps the most intriguing character on the entire ship. He is Mr. Washy Washy—or, according to his name tag, Nielbert of the Philippines—and he is dressed as a taco (on other occasions, I’ll see him dressed as a burger). Mr. Washy Washy performs an eponymous song in spirited, indeed flamboyant English: “Washy, washy, wash your hands, WASHY WASHY!” The dangers of norovirus and COVID on a cruise ship this size (a giant fellow ship was stricken with the former right after my voyage) makes Mr. Washy Washy an essential member of the crew. The problem lies with the food at the end of Washy’s rainbow. The buffet is groaning with what sounds like sophisticated dishes—marinated octopus, boiled egg with anchovy, chorizo, lobster claws—but every animal tastes tragically the same, as if there was only one creature available at the market, a “cruisipus” bred specifically for Royal Caribbean dining. The “vegetables” are no better. I pick up a tomato slice and look right through it. It tastes like cellophane. I sit alone, apart from the couples and parents with gaggles of children, as “We Are Family” echoes across the buffet space.

I may have failed to mention that all this time, the Icon of the Seas has not left port. As the fiery mango of the subtropical setting sun makes Miami’s condo skyline even more apocalyptic, the ship shoves off beneath a perfunctory display of fireworks. After the sun sets, in the far, dark distance, another circus-lit cruise ship ruptures the waves before us. We glance at it with pity, because it is by definition a smaller ship than our own. I am on Deck 15, outside the buffet and overlooking a bunch of pools (the Icon has seven of them), drinking a frilly drink that I got from one of the bars (the Icon has 15 of them), still too shy to speak to anyone, despite Sister Sledge’s assertion that all on the ship are somehow related.

Kim Brooks: On failing the family vacation

The ship’s passage away from Ron DeSantis’s Florida provides no frisson, no sense of developing “sea legs,” as the ship is too large to register the presence of waves unless a mighty wind adds significant chop. It is time for me to register the presence of the 5,000 passengers around me, even if they refuse to register mine. My fellow travelers have prepared for this trip with personally decorated T-shirts celebrating the importance of this voyage. The simplest ones say ICON INAUGURAL ’24 on the back and the family name on the front. Others attest to an over-the-top love of cruise ships: WARNING! MAY START TALKING ABOUT CRUISING . Still others are artisanally designed and celebrate lifetimes spent married while cruising (on ships, of course). A couple possibly in their 90s are wearing shirts whose backs feature a drawing of a cruise liner, two flamingos with ostensibly male and female characteristics, and the legend “ HUSBAND AND WIFE Cruising Partners FOR LIFE WE MAY NOT HAVE IT All Together BUT TOGETHER WE HAVE IT ALL .” (The words not in all caps have been written in cursive.) A real journalist or a more intrepid conversationalist would have gone up to the couple and asked them to explain the longevity of their marriage vis-à-vis their love of cruising. But instead I head to my mall suite, take off my meatball T-shirt, and allow the first tears of the cruise to roll down my cheeks slowly enough that I briefly fall asleep amid the moisture and salt.

I WAKE UP with a hangover. Oh God. Right. I cannot believe all of that happened last night. A name floats into my cobwebbed, nauseated brain: “Ayn Rand.” Jesus Christ.

I breakfast alone at the Coastal Kitchen. The coffee tastes fine and the eggs came out of a bird. The ship rolls slightly this morning; I can feel it in my thighs and my schlong, the parts of me that are most receptive to danger.

I had a dangerous conversation last night. After the sun set and we were at least 50 miles from shore (most modern cruise ships sail at about 23 miles an hour), I lay in bed softly hiccupping, my arms stretched out exactly like Jesus on the cross, the sound of the distant waves missing from my mall-facing suite, replaced by the hum of air-conditioning and children shouting in Spanish through the vents of my two bathrooms. I decided this passivity was unacceptable. As an immigrant, I feel duty-bound to complete the tasks I am paid for, which means reaching out and trying to understand my fellow cruisers. So I put on a normal James Perse T-shirt and headed for one of the bars on the Royal Promenade—the Schooner Bar, it was called, if memory serves correctly.

I sat at the bar for a martini and two Negronis. An old man with thick, hairy forearms drank next to me, very silent and Hemingwaylike, while a dreadlocked piano player tinkled out a series of excellent Elton John covers. To my right, a young white couple—he in floral shorts, she in a light, summery miniskirt with a fearsome diamond ring, neither of them in football regalia—chatted with an elderly couple. Do it , I commanded myself. Open your mouth. Speak! Speak without being spoken to. Initiate. A sentence fragment caught my ear from the young woman, “Cherry Hill.” This is a suburb of Philadelphia in New Jersey, and I had once been there for a reading at a synagogue. “Excuse me,” I said gently to her. “Did you just mention Cherry Hill? It’s a lovely place.”

As it turned out, the couple now lived in Fort Lauderdale (the number of Floridians on the cruise surprised me, given that Southern Florida is itself a kind of cruise ship, albeit one slowly sinking), but soon they were talking with me exclusively—the man potbellied, with a chin like a hard-boiled egg; the woman as svelte as if she were one of the many Ukrainian members of the crew—the elderly couple next to them forgotten. This felt as groundbreaking as the first time I dared to address an American in his native tongue, as a child on a bus in Queens (“On my foot you are standing, Mister”).

“I don’t want to talk politics,” the man said. “But they’re going to eighty-six Biden and put Michelle in.”

I considered the contradictions of his opening conversational gambit, but decided to play along. “People like Michelle,” I said, testing the waters. The husband sneered, but the wife charitably put forward that the former first lady was “more personable” than Joe Biden. “They’re gonna eighty-six Biden,” the husband repeated. “He can’t put a sentence together.”

After I mentioned that I was a writer—though I presented myself as a writer of teleplays instead of novels and articles such as this one—the husband told me his favorite writer was Ayn Rand. “Ayn Rand, she came here with nothing,” the husband said. “I work with a lot of Cubans, so …” I wondered if I should mention what I usually do to ingratiate myself with Republicans or libertarians: the fact that my finances improved after pass-through corporations were taxed differently under Donald Trump. Instead, I ordered another drink and the couple did the same, and I told him that Rand and I were born in the same city, St. Petersburg/Leningrad, and that my family also came here with nothing. Now the bonding and drinking began in earnest, and several more rounds appeared. Until it all fell apart.

Read: Gary Shteyngart on watching Russian television for five days straight

My new friend, whom I will refer to as Ayn, called out to a buddy of his across the bar, and suddenly a young couple, both covered in tattoos, appeared next to us. “He fucking punked me,” Ayn’s frat-boy-like friend called out as he put his arm around Ayn, while his sizable partner sizzled up to Mrs. Rand. Both of them had a look I have never seen on land—their eyes projecting absence and enmity in equal measure. In the ’90s, I drank with Russian soldiers fresh from Chechnya and wandered the streets of wartime Zagreb, but I have never seen such undisguised hostility toward both me and perhaps the universe at large. I was briefly introduced to this psychopathic pair, but neither of them wanted to have anything to do with me, and the tattooed woman would not even reveal her Christian name to me (she pretended to have the same first name as Mrs. Rand). To impress his tattooed friends, Ayn made fun of the fact that as a television writer, I’d worked on the series Succession (which, it would turn out, practically nobody on the ship had watched), instead of the far more palatable, in his eyes, zombie drama of last year. And then my new friends drifted away from me into an angry private conversation—“He punked me!”—as I ordered another drink for myself, scared of the dead-eyed arrivals whose gaze never registered in the dim wattage of the Schooner Bar, whose terrifying voices and hollow laughs grated like unoiled gears against the crooning of “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.”

But today is a new day for me and my hangover. After breakfast, I explore the ship’s so-called neighborhoods . There’s the AquaDome, where one can find a food hall and an acrobatic sound-and-light aquatic show. Central Park has a premium steak house, a sushi joint, and a used Rolex that can be bought for $8,000 on land here proudly offered at $17,000. There’s the aforementioned Royal Promenade, where I had drunk with the Rands, and where a pair of dueling pianos duel well into the night. There’s Surfside, a kids’ neighborhood full of sugary garbage, which looks out onto the frothy trail that the behemoth leaves behind itself. Thrill Island refers to the collection of tubes that clutter the ass of the ship and offer passengers six waterslides and a surfing simulation. There’s the Hideaway, an adult zone that plays music from a vomit-slathered, Brit-filled Alicante nightclub circa 1996 and proves a big favorite with groups of young Latin American customers. And, most hurtfully, there’s the Suite Neighborhood.

I say hurtfully because as a Suite passenger I should be here, though my particular suite is far from the others. Whereas I am stuck amid the riffraff of Deck 11, this section is on the highborn Decks 16 and 17, and in passing, I peek into the spacious, tall-ceilinged staterooms from the hallway, dazzled by the glint of the waves and sun. For $75,000, one multifloor suite even comes with its own slide between floors, so that a family may enjoy this particular terror in private. There is a quiet splendor to the Suite Neighborhood. I see fewer stickers and signs and drawings than in my own neighborhood—for example, MIKE AND DIANA PROUDLY SERVED U.S. MARINE CORPS RETIRED . No one here needs to announce their branch of service or rank; they are simply Suites, and this is where they belong. Once again, despite my hard work and perseverance, I have been disallowed from the true American elite. Once again, I am “Not our class, dear.” I am reminded of watching The Love Boat on my grandmother’s Zenith, which either was given to her or we found in the trash (I get our many malfunctioning Zeniths confused) and whose tube got so hot, I would put little chunks of government cheese on a thin tissue atop it to give our welfare treat a pleasant, Reagan-era gooeyness. I could not understand English well enough then to catch the nuances of that seafaring program, but I knew that there were differences in the status of the passengers, and that sometimes those differences made them sad. Still, this ship, this plenty—every few steps, there are complimentary nachos or milkshakes or gyros on offer—was the fatty fuel of my childhood dreams. If only I had remained a child.

I walk around the outdoor decks looking for company. There is a middle-aged African American couple who always seem to be asleep in each other’s arms, probably exhausted from the late capitalism they regularly encounter on land. There is far more diversity on this ship than I expected. Many couples are a testament to Loving v. Virginia , and there is a large group of folks whose T-shirts read MELANIN AT SEA / IT’S THE MELANIN FOR ME . I smile when I see them, but then some young kids from the group makes Mr. Washy Washy do a cruel, caricatured “Burger Dance” (today he is in his burger getup), and I think, Well, so much for intersectionality .

At the infinity pool on Deck 17, I spot some elderly women who could be ethnic and from my part of the world, and so I jump in. I am proved correct! Many of them seem to be originally from Queens (“Corona was still great when it was all Italian”), though they are now spread across the tristate area. We bond over the way “Ron-kon-koma” sounds when announced in Penn Station.

“Everyone is here for a different reason,” one of them tells me. She and her ex-husband last sailed together four years ago to prove to themselves that their marriage was truly over. Her 15-year-old son lost his virginity to “an Irish young lady” while their ship was moored in Ravenna, Italy. The gaggle of old-timers competes to tell me their favorite cruising stories and tips. “A guy proposed in Central Park a couple of years ago”—many Royal Caribbean ships apparently have this ridiculous communal area—“and she ran away screaming!” “If you’re diamond-class, you get four drinks for free.” “A different kind of passenger sails out of Bayonne.” (This, perhaps, is racially coded.) “Sometimes, if you tip the bartender $5, your next drink will be free.”

“Everyone’s here for a different reason,” the woman whose marriage ended on a cruise tells me again. “Some people are here for bad reasons—the drinkers and the gamblers. Some people are here for medical reasons.” I have seen more than a few oxygen tanks and at least one woman clearly undergoing very serious chemo. Some T-shirts celebrate good news about a cancer diagnosis. This might be someone’s last cruise or week on Earth. For these women, who have spent months, if not years, at sea, cruising is a ritual as well as a life cycle: first love, last love, marriage, divorce, death.

Read: The last place on Earth any tourist should go

I have talked with these women for so long, tonight I promise myself that after a sad solitary dinner I will not try to seek out company at the bars in the mall or the adult-themed Hideaway. I have enough material to fulfill my duties to this publication. As I approach my orphaned suite, I run into the aggro young people who stole Mr. and Mrs. Rand away from me the night before. The tattooed apparitions pass me without a glance. She is singing something violent about “Stuttering Stanley” (a character in a popular horror movie, as I discover with my complimentary VOOM SM Surf & Stream Internet at Sea) and he’s loudly shouting about “all the money I’ve lost,” presumably at the casino in the bowels of the ship.

So these bent psychos out of a Cormac McCarthy novel are angrily inhabiting my deck. As I mewl myself to sleep, I envision a limited series for HBO or some other streamer, a kind of low-rent White Lotus , where several aggressive couples conspire to throw a shy intellectual interloper overboard. I type the scenario into my phone. As I fall asleep, I think of what the woman who recently divorced her husband and whose son became a man through the good offices of the Irish Republic told me while I was hoisting myself out of the infinity pool. “I’m here because I’m an explorer. I’m here because I’m trying something new.” What if I allowed myself to believe in her fantasy?

“YOU REALLY STARTED AT THE TOP,” they tell me. I’m at the Coastal Kitchen for my eggs and corned-beef hash, and the maître d’ has slotted me in between two couples. Fueled by coffee or perhaps intrigued by my relative youth, they strike up a conversation with me. As always, people are shocked that this is my first cruise. They contrast the Icon favorably with all the preceding liners in the Royal Caribbean fleet, usually commenting on the efficiency of the elevators that hurl us from deck to deck (as in many large corporate buildings, the elevators ask you to choose a floor and then direct you to one of many lifts). The couple to my right, from Palo Alto—he refers to his “porn mustache” and calls his wife “my cougar” because she is two years older—tell me they are “Pandemic Pinnacles.”

This is the day that my eyes will be opened. Pinnacles , it is explained to me over translucent cantaloupe, have sailed with Royal Caribbean for 700 ungodly nights. Pandemic Pinnacles took advantage of the two-for-one accrual rate of Pinnacle points during the pandemic, when sailing on a cruise ship was even more ill-advised, to catapult themselves into Pinnacle status.

Because of the importance of the inaugural voyage of the world’s largest cruise liner, more than 200 Pinnacles are on this ship, a startling number, it seems. Mrs. Palo Alto takes out a golden badge that I have seen affixed over many a breast, which reads CROWN AND ANCHOR SOCIETY along with her name. This is the coveted badge of the Pinnacle. “You should hear all the whining in Guest Services,” her husband tells me. Apparently, the Pinnacles who are not also Suites like us are all trying to use their status to get into Coastal Kitchen, our elite restaurant. Even a Pinnacle needs to be a Suite to access this level of corned-beef hash.

“We’re just baby Pinnacles,” Mrs. Palo Alto tells me, describing a kind of internal class struggle among the Pinnacle elite for ever higher status.

And now I understand what the maître d’ was saying to me on the first day of my cruise. He wasn’t saying “ pendejo .” He was saying “Pinnacle.” The dining room was for Pinnacles only, all those older people rolling in like the tide on their motorized scooters.

And now I understand something else: This whole thing is a cult. And like most cults, it can’t help but mirror the endless American fight for status. Like Keith Raniere’s NXIVM, where different-colored sashes were given out to connote rank among Raniere’s branded acolytes, this is an endless competition among Pinnacles, Suites, Diamond-Plusers, and facing-the-mall, no-balcony purple SeaPass Card peasants, not to mention the many distinctions within each category. The more you cruise, the higher your status. No wonder a section of the Royal Promenade is devoted to getting passengers to book their next cruise during the one they should be enjoying now. No wonder desperate Royal Caribbean offers (“FINAL HOURS”) crowded my email account weeks before I set sail. No wonder the ship’s jewelry store, the Royal Bling, is selling a $100,000 golden chalice that will entitle its owner to drink free on Royal Caribbean cruises for life. (One passenger was already gaming out whether her 28-year-old son was young enough to “just about earn out” on the chalice or if that ship had sailed.) No wonder this ship was sold out months before departure , and we had to pay $19,000 for a horrid suite away from the Suite Neighborhood. No wonder the most mythical hero of Royal Caribbean lore is someone named Super Mario, who has cruised so often, he now has his own working desk on many ships. This whole experience is part cult, part nautical pyramid scheme.

From the June 2014 issue: Ship of wonks

“The toilets are amazing,” the Palo Altos are telling me. “One flush and you’re done.” “They don’t understand how energy-efficient these ships are,” the husband of the other couple is telling me. “They got the LNG”—liquefied natural gas, which is supposed to make the Icon a boon to the environment (a concept widely disputed and sometimes ridiculed by environmentalists).

But I’m thinking along a different line of attack as I spear my last pallid slice of melon. For my streaming limited series, a Pinnacle would have to get killed by either an outright peasant or a Suite without an ocean view. I tell my breakfast companions my idea.

“Oh, for sure a Pinnacle would have to be killed,” Mr. Palo Alto, the Pandemic Pinnacle, says, touching his porn mustache thoughtfully as his wife nods.

“THAT’S RIGHT, IT’S your time, buddy!” Hubert, my fun-loving Panamanian cabin attendant, shouts as I step out of my suite in a robe. “Take it easy, buddy!”

I have come up with a new dressing strategy. Instead of trying to impress with my choice of T-shirts, I have decided to start wearing a robe, as one does at a resort property on land, with a proper spa and hammam. The response among my fellow cruisers has been ecstatic. “Look at you in the robe!” Mr. Rand cries out as we pass each other by the Thrill Island aqua park. “You’re living the cruise life! You know, you really drank me under the table that night.” I laugh as we part ways, but my soul cries out, Please spend more time with me, Mr. and Mrs. Rand; I so need the company .

In my white robe, I am a stately presence, a refugee from a better limited series, a one-man crossover episode. (Only Suites are granted these robes to begin with.) Today, I will try many of the activities these ships have on offer to provide their clientele with a sense of never-ceasing motion. Because I am already at Thrill Island, I decide to climb the staircase to what looks like a mast on an old-fashioned ship (terrified, because I am afraid of heights) to try a ride called “Storm Chasers,” which is part of the “Category 6” water park, named in honor of one of the storms that may someday do away with the Port of Miami entirely. Storm Chasers consists of falling from the “mast” down a long, twisting neon tube filled with water, like being the camera inside your own colonoscopy, as you hold on to the handles of a mat, hoping not to die. The tube then flops you down headfirst into a trough of water, a Royal Caribbean baptism. It both knocks my breath out and makes me sad.

In keeping with the aquatic theme, I attend a show at the AquaDome. To the sound of “Live and Let Die,” a man in a harness gyrates to and fro in the sultry air. I saw something very similar in the back rooms of the famed Berghain club in early-aughts Berlin. Soon another harnessed man is gyrating next to the first. Ja , I think to myself, I know how this ends. Now will come the fisting , natürlich . But the show soon devolves into the usual Marvel-film-grade nonsense, with too much light and sound signifying nichts . If any fisting is happening, it is probably in the Suite Neighborhood, inside a cabin marked with an upside-down pineapple, which I understand means a couple are ready to swing, and I will see none of it.

I go to the ice show, which is a kind of homage—if that’s possible—to the periodic table, done with the style and pomp and masterful precision that would please the likes of Kim Jong Un, if only he could afford Royal Caribbean talent. At one point, the dancers skate to the theme song of Succession . “See that!” I want to say to my fellow Suites—at “cultural” events, we have a special section reserved for us away from the commoners—“ Succession ! It’s even better than the zombie show! Open your minds!”

Finally, I visit a comedy revue in an enormous and too brightly lit version of an “intimate,” per Royal Caribbean literature, “Manhattan comedy club.” Many of the jokes are about the cruising life. “I’ve lived on ships for 20 years,” one of the middle-aged comedians says. “I can only see so many Filipino homosexuals dressed as a taco.” He pauses while the audience laughs. “I am so fired tonight,” he says. He segues into a Trump impression and then Biden falling asleep at the microphone, which gets the most laughs. “Anyone here from Fort Leonard Wood?” another comedian asks. Half the crowd seems to cheer. As I fall asleep that night, I realize another connection I have failed to make, and one that may explain some of the diversity on this vessel—many of its passengers have served in the military.

As a coddled passenger with a suite, I feel like I am starting to understand what it means to have a rank and be constantly reminded of it. There are many espresso makers , I think as I look across the expanse of my officer-grade quarters before closing my eyes, but this one is mine .

A shocking sight greets me beyond the pools of Deck 17 as I saunter over to the Coastal Kitchen for my morning intake of slightly sour Americanos. A tiny city beneath a series of perfectly pressed green mountains. Land! We have docked for a brief respite in Basseterre, the capital of St. Kitts and Nevis. I wolf down my egg scramble to be one of the first passengers off the ship. Once past the gangway, I barely refrain from kissing the ground. I rush into the sights and sounds of this scruffy island city, sampling incredible conch curry and buckets of non-Starbucks coffee. How wonderful it is to be where God intended humans to be: on land. After all, I am neither a fish nor a mall rat. This is my natural environment. Basseterre may not be Havana, but there are signs of human ingenuity and desire everywhere you look. The Black Table Grill Has been Relocated to Soho Village, Market Street, Directly Behind of, Gary’s Fruits and Flower Shop. Signed. THE PORK MAN reads a sign stuck to a wall. Now, that is how you write a sign. A real sign, not the come-ons for overpriced Rolexes that blink across the screens of the Royal Promenade.

“Hey, tie your shoestring!” a pair of laughing ladies shout to me across the street.

“Thank you!” I shout back. Shoestring! “Thank you very much.”

A man in Independence Square Park comes by and asks if I want to play with his monkey. I haven’t heard that pickup line since the Penn Station of the 1980s. But then he pulls a real monkey out of a bag. The monkey is wearing a diaper and looks insane. Wonderful , I think, just wonderful! There is so much life here. I email my editor asking if I can remain on St. Kitts and allow the Icon to sail off into the horizon without me. I have even priced a flight home at less than $300, and I have enough material from the first four days on the cruise to write the entire story. “It would be funny …” my editor replies. “Now get on the boat.”

As I slink back to the ship after my brief jailbreak, the locals stand under umbrellas to gaze at and photograph the boat that towers over their small capital city. The limousines of the prime minister and his lackeys are parked beside the gangway. St. Kitts, I’ve been told, is one of the few islands that would allow a ship of this size to dock.

“We hear about all the waterslides,” a sweet young server in one of the cafés told me. “We wish we could go on the ship, but we have to work.”

“I want to stay on your island,” I replied. “I love it here.”

But she didn’t understand how I could possibly mean that.

“WASHY, WASHY, so you don’t get stinky, stinky!” kids are singing outside the AquaDome, while their adult minders look on in disapproval, perhaps worried that Mr. Washy Washy is grooming them into a life of gayness. I heard a southern couple skip the buffet entirely out of fear of Mr. Washy Washy.

Meanwhile, I have found a new watering hole for myself, the Swim & Tonic, the biggest swim-up bar on any cruise ship in the world. Drinking next to full-size, nearly naked Americans takes away one’s own self-consciousness. The men have curvaceous mom bodies. The women are equally un-shy about their sprawling physiques.

Today I’ve befriended a bald man with many children who tells me that all of the little trinkets that Royal Caribbean has left us in our staterooms and suites are worth a fortune on eBay. “Eighty dollars for the water bottle, 60 for the lanyard,” the man says. “This is a cult.”

“Tell me about it,” I say. There is, however, a clientele for whom this cruise makes perfect sense. For a large middle-class family (he works in “supply chains”), seven days in a lower-tier cabin—which starts at $1,800 a person—allow the parents to drop off their children in Surfside, where I imagine many young Filipina crew members will take care of them, while the parents are free to get drunk at a swim-up bar and maybe even get intimate in their cabin. Cruise ships have become, for a certain kind of hardworking family, a form of subsidized child care.

There is another man I would like to befriend at the Swim & Tonic, a tall, bald fellow who is perpetually inebriated and who wears a necklace studded with little rubber duckies in sunglasses, which, I am told, is a sort of secret handshake for cruise aficionados. Tomorrow, I will spend more time with him, but first the ship docks at St. Thomas, in the U.S. Virgin Islands. Charlotte Amalie, the capital, is more charming in name than in presence, but I still all but jump off the ship to score a juicy oxtail and plantains at the well-known Petite Pump Room, overlooking the harbor. From one of the highest points in the small city, the Icon of the Seas appears bigger than the surrounding hills.

I usually tan very evenly, but something about the discombobulation of life at sea makes me forget the regular application of sunscreen. As I walk down the streets of Charlotte Amalie in my fluorescent Icon of the Seas cap, an old Rastafarian stares me down. “Redneck,” he hisses.

“No,” I want to tell him, as I bring a hand up to my red neck, “that’s not who I am at all. On my island, Mannahatta, as Whitman would have it, I am an interesting person living within an engaging artistic milieu. I do not wish to use the Caribbean as a dumping ground for the cruise-ship industry. I love the work of Derek Walcott. You don’t understand. I am not a redneck. And if I am, they did this to me.” They meaning Royal Caribbean? Its passengers? The Rands?

“They did this to me!”

Back on the Icon, some older matrons are muttering about a run-in with passengers from the Celebrity cruise ship docked next to us, the Celebrity Apex. Although Celebrity Cruises is also owned by Royal Caribbean, I am made to understand that there is a deep fratricidal beef between passengers of the two lines. “We met a woman from the Apex,” one matron says, “and she says it was a small ship and there was nothing to do. Her face was as tight as a 19-year-old’s, she had so much surgery.” With those words, and beneath a cloudy sky, humidity shrouding our weathered faces and red necks, we set sail once again, hopefully in the direction of home.

THERE ARE BARELY 48 HOURS LEFT to the cruise, and the Icon of the Seas’ passengers are salty. They know how to work the elevators. They know the Washy Washy song by heart. They understand that the chicken gyro at “Feta Mediterranean,” in the AquaDome Market, is the least problematic form of chicken on the ship.

The passengers have shed their INAUGURAL CRUISE T-shirts and are now starting to evince political opinions. There are caps pledging to make America great again and T-shirts that celebrate words sometimes attributed to Patrick Henry: “The Constitution is not an instrument for the government to restrain the people; it is an instrument for the people to restrain the government.” With their preponderance of FAMILY FLAG FAITH FRIENDS FIREARMS T-shirts, the tables by the crepe station sometimes resemble the Capitol Rotunda on January 6. The Real Anthony Fauci , by Robert F. Kennedy Jr., appears to be a popular form of literature, especially among young men with very complicated versions of the American flag on their T-shirts. Other opinions blend the personal and the political. “Someone needs to kill Washy guy, right?” a well-dressed man in the elevator tells me, his gray eyes radiating nothing. “Just beat him to death. Am I right?” I overhear the male member of a young couple whisper, “There goes that freak” as I saunter by in my white spa robe, and I decide to retire it for the rest of the cruise.

I visit the Royal Bling to see up close the $100,000 golden chalice that entitles you to free drinks on Royal Caribbean forever. The pleasant Serbian saleslady explains that the chalice is actually gold-plated and covered in white zirconia instead of diamonds, as it would otherwise cost $1 million. “If you already have everything,” she explains, “this is one more thing you can get.”

I believe that anyone who works for Royal Caribbean should be entitled to immediate American citizenship. They already speak English better than most of the passengers and, per the Serbian lady’s sales pitch above, better understand what America is as well. Crew members like my Panamanian cabin attendant seem to work 24 hours a day. A waiter from New Delhi tells me that his contract is six months and three weeks long. After a cruise ends, he says, “in a few hours, we start again for the next cruise.” At the end of the half a year at sea, he is allowed a two-to-three-month stay at home with his family. As of 2019, the median income for crew members was somewhere in the vicinity of $20,000, according to a major business publication. Royal Caribbean would not share the current median salary for its crew members, but I am certain that it amounts to a fraction of the cost of a Royal Bling gold-plated, zirconia-studded chalice.

And because most of the Icon’s hyper-sanitized spaces are just a frittata away from being a Delta lounge, one forgets that there are actual sailors on this ship, charged with the herculean task of docking it in port. “Having driven 100,000-ton aircraft carriers throughout my career,” retired Admiral James G. Stavridis, the former NATO Supreme Allied Commander Europe, writes to me, “I’m not sure I would even know where to begin with trying to control a sea monster like this one nearly three times the size.” (I first met Stavridis while touring Army bases in Germany more than a decade ago.)

Today, I decide to head to the hot tub near Swim & Tonic, where some of the ship’s drunkest reprobates seem to gather (the other tubs are filled with families and couples). The talk here, like everywhere else on the ship, concerns football, a sport about which I know nothing. It is apparent that four teams have recently competed in some kind of finals for the year, and that two of them will now face off in the championship. Often when people on the Icon speak, I will try to repeat the last thing they said with a laugh or a nod of disbelief. “Yes, 20-yard line! Ha!” “Oh my God, of course, scrimmage.”

Soon we are joined in the hot tub by the late-middle-age drunk guy with the duck necklace. He is wearing a bucket hat with the legend HAWKEYES , which, I soon gather, is yet another football team. “All right, who turned me in?” Duck Necklace says as he plops into the tub beside us. “I get a call in the morning,” he says. “It’s security. Can you come down to the dining room by 10 a.m.? You need to stay away from the members of this religious family.” Apparently, the gregarious Duck Necklace had photobombed the wrong people. There are several families who present as evangelical Christians or practicing Muslims on the ship. One man, evidently, was not happy that Duck Necklace had made contact with his relatives. “It’s because of religious stuff; he was offended. I put my arm around 20 people a day.”

Everyone laughs. “They asked me three times if I needed medication,” he says of the security people who apparently interrogated him in full view of others having breakfast.

Another hot-tub denizen suggests that he should have asked for fentanyl. After a few more drinks, Duck Necklace begins to muse about what it would be like to fall off the ship. “I’m 62 and I’m ready to go,” he says. “I just don’t want a shark to eat me. I’m a huge God guy. I’m a Bible guy. There’s some Mayan theory squaring science stuff with religion. There is so much more to life on Earth.” We all nod into our Red Stripes.

“I never get off the ship when we dock,” he says. He tells us he lost $6,000 in the casino the other day. Later, I look him up, and it appears that on land, he’s a financial adviser in a crisp gray suit, probably a pillar of his North Chicago community.

THE OCEAN IS TEEMING with fascinating life, but on the surface it has little to teach us. The waves come and go. The horizon remains ever far away.

I am constantly told by my fellow passengers that “everybody here has a story.” Yes, I want to reply, but everybody everywhere has a story. You, the reader of this essay, have a story, and yet you’re not inclined to jump on a cruise ship and, like Duck Necklace, tell your story to others at great pitch and volume. Maybe what they’re saying is that everybody on this ship wants to have a bigger, more coherent, more interesting story than the one they’ve been given. Maybe that’s why there’s so much signage on the doors around me attesting to marriages spent on the sea. Maybe that’s why the Royal Caribbean newsletter slipped under my door tells me that “this isn’t a vacation day spent—it’s bragging rights earned.” Maybe that’s why I’m so lonely.

Today is a big day for Icon passengers. Today the ship docks at Royal Caribbean’s own Bahamian island, the Perfect Day at CocoCay. (This appears to be the actual name of the island.) A comedian at the nightclub opined on what his perfect day at CocoCay would look like—receiving oral sex while learning that his ex-wife had been killed in a car crash (big laughter). But the reality of the island is far less humorous than that.

One of the ethnic tristate ladies in the infinity pool told me that she loved CocoCay because it had exactly the same things that could be found on the ship itself. This proves to be correct. It is like the Icon, but with sand. The same tired burgers, the same colorful tubes conveying children and water from Point A to B. The same swim-up bar at its Hideaway ($140 for admittance, no children allowed; Royal Caribbean must be printing money off its clientele). “There was almost a fight at The Wizard of Oz ,” I overhear an elderly woman tell her companion on a chaise lounge. Apparently one of the passengers began recording Royal Caribbean’s intellectual property and “three guys came after him.”

I walk down a pathway to the center of the island, where a sign reads DO NOT ENTER: YOU HAVE REACHED THE BOUNDARY OF ADVENTURE . I hear an animal scampering in the bushes. A Royal Caribbean worker in an enormous golf cart soon chases me down and takes me back to the Hideaway, where I run into Mrs. Rand in a bikini. She becomes livid telling me about an altercation she had the other day with a woman over a towel and a deck chair. We Suites have special towel privileges; we do not have to hand over our SeaPass Card to score a towel. But the Rands are not Suites. “People are so entitled here,” Mrs. Rand says. “It’s like the airport with all its classes.” “You see,” I want to say, “this is where your husband’s love of Ayn Rand runs into the cruelties and arbitrary indignities of unbridled capitalism.” Instead we make plans to meet for a final drink in the Schooner Bar tonight (the Rands will stand me up).

Back on the ship, I try to do laps, but the pool (the largest on any cruise ship, naturally) is fully trashed with the detritus of American life: candy wrappers, a slowly dissolving tortilla chip, napkins. I take an extra-long shower in my suite, then walk around the perimeter of the ship on a kind of exercise track, past all the alluring lifeboats in their yellow-and-white livery. Maybe there is a dystopian angle to the HBO series that I will surely end up pitching, one with shades of WALL-E or Snowpiercer . In a collapsed world, a Royal Caribbean–like cruise liner sails from port to port, collecting new shipmates and supplies in exchange for the precious energy it has on board. (The actual Icon features a new technology that converts passengers’ poop into enough energy to power the waterslides . In the series, this shitty technology would be greatly expanded.) A very young woman (18? 19?), smart and lonely, who has only known life on the ship, walks along the same track as I do now, contemplating jumping off into the surf left by its wake. I picture reusing Duck Necklace’s words in the opening shot of the pilot. The girl is walking around the track, her eyes on the horizon; maybe she’s highborn—a Suite—and we hear the voice-over: “I’m 19 and I’m ready to go. I just don’t want a shark to eat me.”

Before the cruise is finished, I talk to Mr. Washy Washy, or Nielbert of the Philippines. He is a sweet, gentle man, and I thank him for the earworm of a song he has given me and for keeping us safe from the dreaded norovirus. “This is very important to me, getting people to wash their hands,” he tells me in his burger getup. He has dreams, as an artist and a performer, but they are limited in scope. One day he wants to dress up as a piece of bacon for the morning shift.

THE MAIDEN VOYAGE OF THE TITANIC (the Icon of the Seas is five times as large as that doomed vessel) at least offered its passengers an exciting ending to their cruise, but when I wake up on the eighth day, all I see are the gray ghosts that populate Miami’s condo skyline. Throughout my voyage, my writer friends wrote in to commiserate with me. Sloane Crosley, who once covered a three-day spa mini-cruise for Vogue , tells me she felt “so very alone … I found it very untethering.” Gideon Lewis-Kraus writes in an Instagram comment: “When Gary is done I think it’s time this genre was taken out back and shot.” And he is right. To badly paraphrase Adorno: After this, no more cruise stories. It is unfair to put a thinking person on a cruise ship. Writers typically have difficult childhoods, and it is cruel to remind them of the inherent loneliness that drove them to writing in the first place. It is also unseemly to write about the kind of people who go on cruises. Our country does not provide the education and upbringing that allow its citizens an interior life. For the creative class to point fingers at the large, breasty gentlemen adrift in tortilla-chip-laden pools of water is to gather a sour harvest of low-hanging fruit.

A day or two before I got off the ship, I decided to make use of my balcony, which I had avoided because I thought the view would only depress me further. What I found shocked me. My suite did not look out on Central Park after all. This entire time, I had been living in the ship’s Disneyland, Surfside, the neighborhood full of screaming toddlers consuming milkshakes and candy. And as I leaned out over my balcony, I beheld a slight vista of the sea and surf that I thought I had been missing. It had been there all along. The sea was frothy and infinite and blue-green beneath the span of a seagull’s wing. And though it had been trod hard by the world’s largest cruise ship, it remained.

This article appears in the May 2024 print edition with the headline “A Meatball at Sea.” When you buy a book using a link on this page, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic.

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