I Was Dead Wrong About Cruises (And the Marina Proved It)

My wife Sarah booked our first cruise without consulting me. I found out by seeing the confirmation email on our shared account, which, in hindsight, was probably the smartest move she could've made. Because left to my own devices, we would've spent another August sweating in our apartment while binge-watching other people travel on Instagram. "You'll hate it," I told her when she broke the news. "Cruises are for people who go to Applebee's on purpose." I had all the classic cruise criticisms locked and loaded: overcrowded ships, low-quality food, endless upselling, trapped-in-a-floating-mall vibes. But Sarah had done her research and chosen Oceania Cruises specifically because she knew I'd balk at the big party-boat lines. "Oceania is different," she kept saying. "Smaller ships, more upscale, fewer people." I nodded politely while mentally adding "delusional" to my mental checklist. The day we boarded the Marina in New York, I was genuinely apprehensive. The ship looked elegant from the dock, I'll admit that much. The hull gleamed white against the August sky, and there wasn't a neon light or pirate skull in sight. But as we filed through security and up the gangway, my skepticis…