CRUISING CAYAMO STYLE

Mar 16, 2009

Blurt goes on Cayamo, a seven-day feast of sea and sounds.

By LEE ZIMMERMAN

"Amazing" seems less than adequate as a descriptive term. Even "awesome" doesn't do. "Terrific" totally falls flat. No, none of these words do justice when speaking of Cayamo, a veritable floating festival in the form of a seven-day music cruise to the eastern Caribbean. Combine that cruise with onboard entertainment featuring an array of singer/songwriters who practically define the genre-artists such as Lyle Lovett, Indigo Girls, John Hiatt, Patty Griffin, Joe Ely... and it can only be described as the experience of a lifetime.

Of course, if you don't care for music and you don't enjoy being pampered by extraordinarily polite people from far-flung countries who treat you like visiting royalty, than disregard the above and read no further. The Cayamo cruise isn't for you.

Presumably though, you are among those who might relish such an opportunity to indulge in music and merriment. And given all Cayamo has to offer -who isn't? This then, is our impression gathered from a week's worth of the best onboard experience ever.

Day One

Sixthman, the group that created and runs Cayamo, really has its act together. This is only the second year for this particular cruise, and yet, it operates with all the efficiency of a festival with considerably more tenure. After the initial confusion that accompanies boarding a cruise ship for the first time ("What time are the shows?" "Where are the restaurants?" "Which shore excursion do we take in Tortola?" "What's with that guy in the silly hat?"), things quickly fall into place. Meals have an obscene amount of choices, guaranteed to satisfy the glutton in us all. Tall fruity drinks pack a perverse quality of alcohol, sure to raze the sensibilities of the unsuspecting. And of course there's the music, an overwhelming amount of choices that create some of the biggest dilemmas passengers would face throughout the cruise. Do we opt for the Spinnaker Lounger and see Darrell Scott or stay poolside for Brandi Carlyle? Check out the Johnny Cash Throwdown or watch the Second City Improv? Damn, when do we have time to eat? So much food-so little time.

Fortunately, the music choices offered on Day One went fairly smoothly. The bon voyage party at poolside with the Cajun band Roddie Romero & the Hub City Allstars seemed mandatory, Romero and company being the obligatory sort of party band well equipped to get things rolling. Then given the line-up in the lounge-the irrepressible and surprisingly amusing Emerson Hart (former front man for Tonic), a spunky and saucy Kathleen Edwards (whose request for whiskey was finally met threefold), Collective Soul's Ed Roland (looking like he could have subbed for Sean Penn in Fast Times At Ridgemont High, given that he's fond of saying the word "dude" in every other sentence), the father and son team of Marc and Ted Broussard (the former one superb singer, the latter a guitarist extraordinaire) and finally Shawn Mullins, who didn't take the stage until nearly one AM when a good portion of the audience was understandably nodding out, but whose poignant narratives provided ample reason for resuscitation.

Whew. When we finally hit the cabin at 2:30 AM, we already felt like we had gotten our money's worth. And we had yet to seriously peruse the merch stand.

Day Two

Setting the watches forward the night before and losing a precious hour hardly provided incentive to get up early. So finally, at 10:30 AM, after looking at the line-up for the day ahead, we realized there was no time to waste. Rest and relaxation be damned; there was a sake and sushi tasting to be savored instead.

Strike that. Duty called. Lyle Lovett and Shawn Colvin were holding court in the library. We were tempted to ask him about Mr. Hart's comments the night before ("There's nothing funnier than the sight of Lyle Lovett in a life preserver"), but we refrained out of due consideration for his current condition. Apparently Lyle was feeling a bit under the weather from the rocking of the ship. He doesn't let that deter him however, and instead he and Colvin engaged in some informative banter about their beginnings and songwriting styles. As the press session concludes, Lyle made his way down the row of assembled journalists, allowing for personal introductions and small talk. He genuinely gave the impression of being a very personable, down-to-earth kind of guy, leaving the fond hope among all those present that the ginger ale he'd been prescribed really would work its wonders.

Outside by the pool deck, the afternoon festivities were well under way by 1:00 PM, initiated with a rousing rendition of Dylan's "Don't Think Twice Its Alright" courtesy of the Indigo Girls and the ever-constant Brandi Carlile. Despite the breezy conditions topside ("Did you ever trying singing with hair in your mouth," Emily Saliers of the Indigos asked, causing a few smirks among the less than politically correct males in the audience), they put in a well-received set, clearly passing the unofficial audition required of any band that's new on the cruise.

The two bands that follow-rockabilly raver Webb Wilder and elegiac chamber pop combo Over the Rhine -- proved equally adept at adapting to circumstances, although the motion of the vessel doesn't go unnoticed. "I'm not trying to strike a rock ‘n' roll pose," Over the Rhine's singer Karen Bergquist insisted. "I'm just trying to hold on." Later she coins a phrase that could have served as by-word for the duration of the cruise. "Forget rock ‘n' roll. This is more like pitch ‘n' roll."

Whether it's the accumulated effect of too many of the funny fruity drinks or the general unbalanced feeling brought on by the tilt of the sea, there's an immediate camaraderie amongst the passengers, with strangers striking up spontaneous conversation and veterans of previous Sixthman cruises, who seem to be in the majority, sharing their experiences. The musical line-up was almost unchanged from the year before, the two most notable exceptions being Emmylou Harris, whose place was taken by the Indigo Girls and Buddy Miller, who was forced to bow out at the last minute due to an emergency triple by-pass only days before. In fact, Cayamo itself has already fanned a fervent following, spawning the kind of personal fraternity common to most festivals. Fans spoke about performers as if they were personal friends-and indeed in many cases that seemed to be the case with namedropping the order of the day. "I can introduce you to anyone you want to meet," Barbara from Lafayette LA offered. Not surprisingly, veterans were also quick to compare this year's cruise to last. Lin from Austin remarked that she liked last year's ship, courtesy of Carnival Cruise Lines, better than the Dawn, part of Norwegian Caribbean's fleet. "You didn't have this artificial cement hole in front of the stage which made for better seating," she said of the performances on the pool deck. On the other hand, Bob and Judy from Pennsylvania claimed the Dawn was definitely the better boat. "You have a wider choice of restaurants," they maintained. Then again, Bob also suggested last year's bands appeared more upbeat.

Fortunately then, the Indigo Girls couldn't be accused of slacking when it came to accelerating the energy. They also seemed to have brought along their own fan following, and their performance that evening in the Stardust Theater, the ship's spotlight venue, garnered unabashed admiration from both the faithful and novices alike. While most of the set tended to focus on softer fare-with special attention given their new double disc, Poseidon and the Bitter Bug-a rotating cast of characters (Carlile, Shawn Mullins and assorted others) gave the show more of a cabaret feel as performers slipped on and off stage at odd intervals. Indigo's Emily asked if the crowd minded the format and judging by the reaction nobody seemed to have any objection. Indeed, by the time the girls finished the set with a spirited take on "Galileo," the audience was rapt with devotion.

There was still more music to be enjoyed later in the evening, and after dinner, the center of the action was once again at the Spinnaker, where Darrell Scott provided an exceptional display of guitar dexterity-not to mention superb songwriting. He was followed by Joe Ely and accordionist Jose Guzman, who joined forces to give Ely's sagebrush serenades a decided South of the Border Tex-Mex flavor.

Which begs the question-why wasn't Ely accorded headliner status?

Day Three

Samana, in the Dominican Republic, allowed the first official respite from the nonstop musical mélange thanks to a varied array of shore excursions that challenged one's dexterity, pocketbook or both. A horseback ride to a pair of remote waterfalls proved more challenging than expected due to a rocky trail over uncertain terrain and a subsequent steep hike that gave the riders a chance to personally experience the environs from the horse's perspective. Happily, the one-to-one attention given by the local guides proved a godsend to those unprepared for such a tedious physical challenge. Even so, by the time everyone was back on the boat, most were ready to shuck their hiking shoes and resume the relatively undemanding task of assuming audience duties and immersing themselves in the music.

There seemed to be three subjects that every performer espoused upon in common-(one) the ship's motion, as described earlier, (two) asking which members of the audience had experienced Cayamo the year before, a query which seemed to elicit a positive response from the majority of the crowd (and hence make us first-timers feel like a distinct minority), and (three) expressing gratitude to everyone-veterans or not-for coming to see them perform. Almost always, the gratitude was given Sixthman for making it all possible, but being that the cruise cost upwards of $1,400 apiece and required a supreme financial sacrifice, ample appreciation was lavished on the passengers as well.

"Its because of you folks that we get to do what we love to do every day," Lyle Lovett told the audience at his show that night, and once again, his humility was truly touching. No wonder this crowd loves Lyle. It may have had something to do with his extraordinarily dry sense of humor as well. "This is the most open-minded ship," Lovett remarked in mock astonishment, referring to the sexual preferences shared by the Indigo Girls' female faithful. "The bond between a man and a woman is so twentieth century. " He then initiated a hilarious vamp with back-up singer Arnold McCuller, one that cast the two as quarreling spouses and brought down the house.

In fact, Lovett captured the crowd from the first moment he stepped onstage and continued to ensure the lock throughout. He was aided in his efforts by an ace backing band (which included veteran drummer and session legend Russ Kunkel), a gracious invitation to John Hiatt to share the stage (remarking the Hiatt looked like the stereotypical surfer dude as he struggled to keep balance while the ship suddenly shook during departure), and a set list that included the most tender coda offered onboard, a touching rendition of his classic "Closing Time."

Later, back in the Spinnaker Lounge, former Toad the Wet Sprocket front man Glen Phillips offered a gleeful expression of gratitude of a different sort. "This is the first time in thirteen years my wife and I have been away together without the kids and we're taking the time to become (ahem) reacquainted," he remarked before adding, "Hell, I'm just saying this because I'm so trying to get laid."

Indeed, for all the talk heard throughout the trip of a common bond between audience and performer, perhaps no one shared that sentiment as succinctly.

Day Four

A day of sightseeing on St. Thomas, U.S.V.I. was considerably less strenuous than that undertaken in Samana the day before, and if by evening, everyone wasn't quite rested from all the activity, then the music gave cause for a revival. John Hiatt was the featured performer at the early show and he measured up to the anticipation aroused in the crowd. Hiatt seems to have grown comfortable into his role as a veteran troubadour, one whose ample stock of songs assures any set list can double as a recitation of greatest hits. This evening's selection was no exception, given the inclusion of such certifiable classics as "Cry Love," Drive South," and the set's soulful closer "Have a Little Faith in Me." So too, Hiatt's trademark sense of humor was out in full force, echoing similar themes to those of his compatriots. As he launched into the second song of his performance, the ship pulled anchor and lurched forward, causing his fan and floor monitors to vibrate about the stage like the toy players on an electric game board. "Thanks for putting me back together," Hiatt said to his frantic roadie, before sputtering in mock irritation, "Damn this ship! They broke my fan!"

As expected, that wasn't the only shipboard scenario Hiatt had comment on. "I used to have trouble interacting with people," he confessed. "But here on this cruise there's no escape. Actually, it's good for my personal progress."

Curiously enough, in the second major headlining of the evening, Shawn Colvin seemed to shrug off her difficulty in connecting. Appearing solo in the big venue of the Starlight Theater, she seemed wrapped up in her own world, closing her eyes, cursing the fact she had to continually tune and confiding that she actually felt a bit naked, given that in recent weeks she had been touring in the company of Patty Griffin, Emmylou Harris and the sadly missed Buddy Miller. At times, her interaction with the audience seemed somewhat strained, and a surprising number of empty seats seemed to testify to that divide. However, if that bothered her, she didn't let on, and it certainly didn't deter her from casting a few disparaging comments about onboard conditions.

"Has anyone had a good meal?" she asked with a mix of cynicism and sarcasm. "I'm such an asshole," she added apologetically.

Tift Merritt, on the other hand, conveyed a persona that was anything but quarrelsome. Working an overflowing crowd in Dazzles, the informal bar located mid-ship, she invited her audience to crowd in around her and fill up the empty spaces. Standing solo and alternating between guitar and electric piano, she offered a soaring set of emotionally-tinged originals, belting each out in a homespun voice borne of Southern soul. Charming and enchanting, she appeared genuinely delighted at the warm response, even as she admitted she may have become certifiably insane after 45 days of continuous touring. She also offered a truism of her own.

"Being on a cruise is kind of like being back in high school," she suggested. "You know there's a party going on somewhere, but you haven't been invited."

"The party's right here," a member of the audience protested, and afterwards, as she graciously greeted fans individually, exchanging pleasantries and patiently posing for pictures, it seemed that those words had indeed rung true.

Day Five

Sightseeing mixed with beach each time in Tortola, the gray looming skies notwithstanding. Opportunity for a nap, time to catch a massage and better yet, a chance to catch a breath.

A brief breath at that however. Brandi Carlile, a relative newcomer compared to the other artists on board, put on one of the most memorable performances of the entire cruise, no small feat considering the exemplary caliber of the shows overall. Her connection with the audience was genuinely engaging, and when she and her two backing musicians, twin brothers Tim and Phil Hanseroth, stepped out to the edge of the stage to sing a cappella, it added to the embrace. "When you throw artists together in close proximity, they develop a sense of community," Carlile commented the next day. "They become friends. It makes everybody more accessible to the fans and each other."

Later that evening, Ed Robertson, front man for Barenaked ladies, Adam Arkin look-alike and last minute substitute for the ailing Buddy Miller, also found common bond with the audience as he settled into the Spinnaker. It was difficult to discern which was funnier-his commentary between songs or the quirky tunes themselves. After all, anyone who can work in a lyric about aspiring to be Billy Barty, "but normal size" would certainly seem somewhat off-kilter. When he brought on special guests Kathleen Edwards and her husband and musical foil Colin Cripps, he went into a rap about how any two people could have a special song, even if they weren't, ahem, otherwise connected. Eyeing Cripps seductively, he invited him to duet on Wham's "Careless Whispers," much to Edwards' chagrin. She made it appear that the two shared more than harmonies.

That liberal attitude apparently goes a long way on a Cayamo cruise

Day Six

By now I've come to the realization that in the pursuit of catching concerts, attempting to get a glimpse of the stars, making new acquaintances and divvying up my time between the devoted journalist and the unabashed groupie, little time is left for anything else, be it eating, napping, grabbing the occasional photo op, or-and this is by no means in order of preference-spending time with my wife on the occasion of our fifth wedding anniversary. Nevertheless, I tried to press forward on all fronts, although admittedly some more than others. It was also time to do some networking, first by introducing myself to Andy Levine, the scion of Sixthman, its founder and all-round cheerleader, and later Eric Brace, leader of the Nashville band Last Train Home and current collaborator with Nashville journalist, singer and songwriter Peter Cooper on a terrific new album called Which One of Us Do You Like Better. Eric was an affable sort, and the exchange of words of mutual admiration doubtless served both our egos well.

By this point, the boat was really rocking, Bob from Pennsylvania's protests aside. It was physically rocking, and rolling, and pitching from side to side, due to high seas and sporadic bouts of squally weather. It caused the less hearty guests to flee the pool deck during Bonepony's rousing set of backwoods rave-ups, while sparking the other artists to continue to revive their commentary about the boat's perpetual motion. In fact, given the nonstop roll, it became all but impossible to distinguish those who were walking unsteadily due to inebriation from those merely attempting to keep their balance. And considering the length of the NCL Dawn is roughly half the length of Rhode Island-or so it sometimes seemed-navigating under the effects of the weather condition was no small challenge. During a press session later in the day, John Hiatt dismissed any notion that he's been the victim of seasickness, insisting it was his wife who was so afflicted. (In all fairness, he also credited her with being the social ambassador for the two of them.) Patty Griffin, who followed Hiatt's brief bout with the press, opted to add to the shipboard scenario in a different way, bringing as her escort her self-proclaimed "Cabana Boy," an extremely oversized man dressed in tights and a tutu.

Hopefully, the need for an entourage had nothing to do with loneliness. Like Colvin, she was adjusting to performing solo sans the other members of her usual touring ensemble-Colvin, Emmylou Harris and the waylaid Buddy Miller. "There is some emotional pressure," she conceded. "It's nice to have people to share the stage. Not just great singers and songwriters but also people who are great at carrying the show."

Speaking of shows, the evening brought another full bill, beginning with the ever-soulful Dave Ryan Harris, who added his own take on the apparent prevalence of same sex attraction. "Sometimes when I'm singing a song like ‘Sexual Healing' in falsetto, my eyes are closed, and when I open them and I find I'm staring at a dude! So if I offend anyone, I do apologize,"

All disclaimers aside, Harris also added to the chorus of gratitude. "Thank you for taking a week to spend time with artists your co-workers have never heard of," he said before encouraging all the other musicians in attendance to stand and applaud the audience.

Other than the set by Harris and the truly extraordinary Vienna Teng, whose atmospheric piano ballads stoked the most amazing ambiance from her arrangements, the rest of the evening's entertainment consisted of reprises-Joe Ely, Glen Phillips and Over the Rhine. And as we passed him playing to a full house in Dazzles near midnight, there was Ed Robertson intoning one of his familiar refrains, one that went "I hate Winnipeg." What caused him to feel that way was never quite discerned.

Day Seven

"This year it's just as exhausting and just as mind-blowing as last year," said the gregarious guy from Seattle occupying the next lounge chair. He seemed a bit tipsy and given the fact the ship was now anchored securely in Nassau-having been diverted due to foul weather from the original destination, Great Stirrup Cay-one had to assume it wasn't the boat's perpetual motion that was cause for his condition. Earlier in the day we had strolled about town, doing our best to elude the entreaties of the locals who were hawking their wares. However, the one plea we found ourselves unable to resist-the same set-up that had stopped us in our tracks at all the other ports-was the person in the oversized animal costume -disguised a giant parrot, dolphin or other creature of undetermined species-who lay in ambush to lure tourists for the obligatory debarkation photo.

Other than that, our day was spent peacefully-the inebriated individual from Seattle notwithstanding. A bit of time in the hot tub with members of the band Oakhurst and the Greencards provides a pleasant respite prior to the last night of catching all those missed initially. Thereafter, an hour of Patty Griffin gave way to a sampling of the aforementioned Oakhurst (after hot tub time, it almost seemed obligatory) and then on to the night's finale, credited to the No-Buddies due to the fact it was originally intended as a Buddy Miller show. In fact, it turns out to be a series of songs by the various performers, some in duo mode and others reprising a song or two from their regular sets. Our last show of the night-and of the cruise-comes courtesy of the Greencards, a band consisting of two Aussies, an Englishman and a Yank who have deftly melded their talents to create a fusion of English folk and American bluegrass.

Earlier in the evening, Sixthman's Andy Levine had finally revealed the meaning behind the word Cayamo-a combination of ‘Cay,' meaning ‘little island' and ‘amo,' derived from the Spanish word for ‘love.' "This is all about what the world should be," Levine says, and after spending seven carefree days in such pleasant circumstances, one can't help but agree.

That said, we'll leave the final thoughts to others:

Ed Robertson (at the Starlight on the final night): "I've done the math. There are more of us than there is crew. So let's meet in the Sixthman office at 3a.m. and commandeer this vessel so we can keep this cruise going!"

The Greencards (the final night in the Spinnaker): "What did we like most? Lyle, the lobster, Tift Merritt and the towel animals made by the cabin boy."

A friend overheard confiding to the ever-affable Shawn Mullins: "They really seem to love you, Shawn."

And finally, Andy Levine, Thursday night to the assembled audience back at the Starlight: "When you wake up Sunday morning after the cruise, you're going to realize how much the real world sucks compared to being on this cruise."

Amen. Can't wait for next year.

[Photo of John Hiatt & Lyle Lovett: Alisa Cherry]

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