Report: Cayamo Cruise 2010 (Day 1)

For Sunday, Feb. 21, we got Glenn Phillips, Darrell Scott, John Hiatt and others - not to mention the devil and the deep blue sea, plus plenty of food and beverages.

By Lee Zimmerman / Photos by Will Byington

Ed. note: This week BLURT contributor Lee Zimmerman is on the annual Cayamo Cruise, which as you'll read below boasts a who's-who of roots and Americana artists playing for (and mingling with) fans traveling on a five-day cruise through the Caribbean. Fittingly enough, the event's called Caribbean on Cayamo 2010: A Journey Through Song. Internet connection willing, Zimmerman will be filing a report each day, so keep checking back to find out who was twanging the loudest, who was singing the sweetest - and who Zimmerman was rubbing shoulders with the hardest. Incidentally, you can also read his report from last year's Cruise elsewhere at the BLURT site.

Attention all ships at sea: Cayamo 2010 has set sail!

This, then, is your daily briefing on all the goings-on, brought to you from our stateroom aboard the Norwegian Dawn, again the home of what may well be the best floating musical event of this day and age. This year's cruise, for example, includes Lyle Lovett, Steve Earle, Emmylou Harris, Brandi Carlile and John Hiatt... and those are just the headliners! The support acts would likely be considered first tier anywhere else - especially when the names include Robert Earl Keen, Buddy Miller, WPA, Darrell Scott, Shawn Mullens, Vienna Teng, Edwin McCain, Stephen Kellogg and Rachel Yamagata. Clearly, we're already breathless with anticipation. As Darrell Scott would remark later during his opening night set, "If this festival was held on land, it would be the best ever."

Here at sea, somewhere between Miami and Costa Mayan Mexico, it sure feels like the landlubbers couldn't disagree.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

My wife Alisa and I meet our friend Dan and his bevy of four beautiful young women who have gathered at his apartment after winging in to Miami from various far-flung locales - Colorado, Oregon, Arizona and Las Vegas.  I'm immediately impressed; Dan's gathered quite an impressive crew of traveling companions, and the fact that he's a single guy immediately draws on a scenario remarkably similar to that cheesy reality show, "The Bachelor." Still, I'm a married guy, and in the first feat of endurance I'll endure in day one, I attempt to refrain from any action that can be deemed as being flirtatious, at least in Alisa's eyes. On the other hand, sucking in my gut seems somewhat mandatory. If you've started to keep score, those would be today's first and second concession to self control.

Dan and one of his guests grab a ride from a friend, leaving Alisa, three of the other girls and me, the sole remaining male, to take a cab to the port of embarkation. No sooner do we arrive than we find ourselves embroiled in a crisis. It seems Alisa has left her make-up bag back in the car which we've parked at Dan's condo. Because we're talking women's make-up here, any decision I'm mulling about whether or not we need to go back to retrieve it quickly becomes a moot point. The girls disperse and Alisa and I jump back in the taxi to retrieve the precious cargo.

Fortunately, Dan's apartment is nearby. Unfortunately, however, a simple $18 cab ride has escalated in cost to well beyond that otherwise reasonable figure and is now closer in proximity to $50. Obviously - and reasonably - Alisa foots the cost.

Arriving back at the port, we quickly join a burgeoning line of passengers waiting their turn to go through security. We're handed health questionnaires asking for two bits of information in particular - have we experienced any severe flu like symptoms in the past 24 hours - specifically uncontrolled bouts of diarrhea - and have we had any up close and personal encounters with anyone claiming to have swine flu... as if someone would approach us and happily announce, "Hey, guess what, I have the desly and contagious swine flu! Now give me a big wet kiss!"

Naturally, the answer would be a resounding ‘no' to both, even though admittedly, I'm trying to repress a cold and I'm gripped by sniffles. However, Alisa, for whatever reason, answers ‘yes' to both. Fortunately, I catch the error in enough time so as to avoid being quarantined. Acts of self control three and four then follow, three being the fact I restrain from telling Alisa she needs to start paying closer attention (in which case she's likely blame it all on me and embarrass me in front of everyone in the queue) and four, my need to refrain from sneezing so that the security folks don't actually think there's a guy on board who's going to infect the entire ship with some ghastly malady.

Luckily, fate seems to be on our side. A short time after we're checked in, the computers go down and there's an hour delay in boarding for those behind us.

As we make our way onto the ship, we're greeted by high-fives from Andy Levine, the head of Atlanta's Sixth Man organization, under whose auspices Cayamo and several other music-themed cruises operate. Andy, always an amiable fellow, engages in a brief exchange over the current pronunciation of ‘Cayamo' - whether its ‘KUY-YAMO' or ‘KAY-YAMO.' "Why don't you just call it ‘Fred'?" I suggest. Okay, not very funny, but it does elicit a chuckle.

***

As anyone who's ever taken a cruise before well knows, two of the biggest lures are the abundance of food - which in my case will further hamper any ability to suck in my gut in front of Dan's friends - and all the friendly folks from various Third World countries whose only aim in life seems to be welcoming the guests and appealing to them to have the vacation of a lifetime. We quickly indulge their desire by attacking the buffet line which offers an otherwise unwieldy combination of carved roast beef, hot dogs, sushi, pizza and various international fare. And that's just the appetizers! My plate alone would likely feed half of a small Asian nation.  What the heck - it's a whole hour and a half until dinner.

***

Oh yeah - there's music too!  We make our way to the atrium to catch the final couple of songs from Edie Carey, a sensitive singer/songwriter type whose mournful repertoire seems a somewhat curious way to kick-off the festivities. We're much more enthralled by Katie Herzig, who we initially encountered on last year's cruise.  Her music is instantly infectious, a combination of winsome material and a pliable vocal that propels her sweet melodies ever upward and makes them worthy of some clapping along.

***

Katie's set finishes just in time to scurry to our cabins where we find only one or our four pieces of luggage have made it to their destination. It's curious, we think. All of our suitcases were handed to the porter at the same time. Was my blue bag separated from the others due to bad behavior?  Suddenly we grow concerned about the fate our missing possessions. Clearly, a tie-dyed tank top and green cargo pants aren't going to be enough to sustain my wardrobe throughout the duration of this cruise. There are rock stars onboard! I gotta muster up some cool!

***

Still, there's no time to ponder that notion. It's time for the mandatory safety drill, the purpose of which seems to be watching fellow passengers lose their way to their assembly stations, giggling at how silly they look in their lifejackets, and watching while the crew patiently attempt to keep their charges from strangling themselves with the safety straps. Quite an educational experience indeed. We do, however, meet our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Judge, he being the CFO of our much beloved Blurt.  CFO in this case, stands for "Cash For Others."  In other words, he's the guy who decides whether there's enough cash in the coffers to pay humble writers like myself. I immediately come to the uncontestable opinion that Stephen is a guy I oughta be nice to.

***

After fulfilling our obligation to look like total boobs in front of the crew, we scurry to the Spinnaker Lounge to catch the first in a series of showcases. Spinnaker, of course, is nautical speak for "Scramble to find the best seat even if you have to climb over other passengers and spill your beverage on them as the venue in general admission, so good luck in finding two seats together." Or something like that. Fortunately we manage to plant ourselves on stage left in anticipation for Glenn Phillips' lead-off set. Phillips, formerly of Toad the Wet Sprocket, is now affiliated with an indie super-group of sorts, WPA, but here he's offering his only solo show of the cruise. A self-effacing master of instantly infectious melodies, Phillips has a lot of fans in the audience, all of whom indulge him as he tries desperately to keep his guitar in tune and not stumble over his lyrics.  Clearly, any missteps only add to his charms.

***

By contrast, Darrell Scott shows himself to be something of a perfectionist, given his nimble guitar playing and equally adept keyboard work. Singing in a soulful croon, he parlays an affecting blend of blues, ballads and an occasional cover via Johnny Cash's mournful "I Still Miss Someone." By now, I'm in a sleep-like state, but the music transcends my sudden exhaustion and sends me soaring with elation.

***

Still, we opt to forego Shawn Mullins' set for now and head up to our cabin for a quick nap. It's nearly 9:00 when we awake. After a quick but satisfying meal, we hurry to the Stardust Theater, the ship's major venue, for our 10:30 headliner show by John Hiatt. We arrive on time only to discover the concert is delayed an hour - to 11:30 to be precise - due to a back-up in the show schedule, which in turn, can be traced to the delay in boarding caused by the computer breakdown earlier. Stephen decides he's too exhausted to stay awake during the gig, but Alisa and I venture on, consoled by the fact we had a nap earlier in the day. We're rewarded by a superb performance, one which finds Hiatt's vocal -- as rich and pliable as molasses -- intoning a generous array of his standards - "Master of Disaster," "Perfectly Good Guitar," "Drive South" et. al. interspersed with selections from his brilliant new album, The Open Road. Equally entertaining are Hiatt's rubbery facial expressions which only seem to accentuate his deadpan humor.  "Thanks for staying up late," he says. "I know it's past your bedtime." As the show coincides at 1:30 AM, we know its past ours. We head to our cabin and collapse.  Day number one of Cayamo cruise 2010 has come to an overdue conclusion.

To be continued...

[Photos of Glenn Phillips and Darrell Scott by Will Byington]