Full of energy, I leapt out of bed before the sun had cleared the horizon. There was only a little daylight when I set foot on the track on the Promenade Deck to put in another ten laps. The track was pretty well protected from the elements because the lifeboats were attached to the side of the ship at that level. Moreover, because the fitness center was located at the bow end of the ship, the track curved inside the ship where one could view a door to the fitness center on the right and larger than life posters of very attractive athletes on the left. The only place that a walker/jogger had the feeling of being outdoors was through the curve at the starboard end.

Only a few walkers and joggers joined me at the crack of dawn. As time passed the track became a little more populated, but there were no logjams. I kept up a rather brisk pace for the entire walk. In fact, I actually lapped one guy.[1]

After I finished I walked down the staircase and proceeded to my cabin. When I took off my shoes and socks, I was a little dismayed to discover that two toenails on my left foot were rather severely bruised. They did not feel sore when I was walking, and the shoes were definitely not too small. I suspected that the sock must have bunched up.

I checked my e-mail. This was the last message that Sue sent from Jamaica:

Well, the Italian dinner was lamb chops and pretty good. I'll be happy to get out of here. One of the two dryers for ALL the people staying here was broken. A nice lady took her clothes out of the only working dryer so I could use it & make my dinner reservations at 8:00pm. I sure hope Courtney shows up tomorrow. I am supposed to meet him at 10am. Hope to see you around noon, Can we eat together? Are you playing in the afternoon or do we do Jamaica together? What is the cruise ship itinerary for the day? Meet me in the room. By the sounds, it may take me an hour to find the room!

I sent a brief reply, took a shower, and then made my way to the Conference Center. The pastries were already laid out, but no one had yet removed the cellophane that enclosed the trays. I undid a corner of one and stole a couple of muffins. I also took a cup of coffee back to the room with me.

I sat at a table with Frank, Dave, and Pogo for Larry's third lecture, which was on declarer play. The theme for the talk was a familiar one: make a plan before playing to the first trick. Larry drove home the point through selected examples that illustrated some fairly common situations.

• One opponent might ruff the first trick
• Ducking can “freeze” a side suit.
• Sometimes taking a trick too cheaply costs an entry.
• Taking the trick in the correct hand preserves entries.
• Unblocking to set up a finesse.

For me the highlight of this talk was Larry’s description of the trials of the professional bridge teacher. He confessed that he came to the point at which he just could not stand sitting across from people who kept making the same mistakes. He showed a real hand in which North was labeled “Soon to be ex-pro” and South was labeled “Nice lady.” The latter was declaring a grand slam contract in which thirteen top tricks were available. However, she took a “practice finesse” on the first trick and went down.

Larry surprised me by advocating keeping track of the distribution of the missing cards in a suit instead of always subtracting from thirteen. For example, if your side possessed eight cards in a suit, and one round was played in which both opponents followed suit, his mental note would be “1-1; three still out” rather than “ten gone, three remaining.” I vowed to try this.

He also said that experts did not waste mental energy keeping track of unimportant suits. This remark puzzled me. Surely experts expend plenty of brain power trying to deduce each opponent’s total distribution, and that would not be possible without watching the trivial suits.

After the talk I told Larry privately that I had tried his CRIFS method,[2] and that so far it had worked three times out of four. He warned me not to tell the opponents if I used it. His admonition was unnecessary.

The Allure arrived in Jamaica at about 10:30, while the morning’s bridge games were still in progress. I could tell when the ship stopped moving.

We did really poorly in the continuation of the Swiss. We lost the first match 15 to 7 and the second match 15 to 10. I did not stay around for the scoring of the third match, which we won. Instead I rushed back to the stateroom to see if Sue had boarded the ship yet.

I was resolved to find new teammates for the knockouts that were scheduled for Thursday. In the second match of the morning Swiss our teammates had played against Nina Lalin and her partner, Ann Crawford. Before I left for the stateroom I asked Frank to inquire if those ladies were interested in playing in Thursday’s knockouts with us.

I heard a knock on the cabin’s door at a little after noon. Sue was escorted by someone from the Royal Caribbean staff, but she still seemed pretty distraught. We hugged and then talked for a minute about how to salvage the vacation.

Sue’s immediate interest was in eating lunch in a nice restaurant setting. So, we went back to the Conference Center, registered Sue for the bridge tournament, gathered up Frank and his electric scooter, and took the elevator up to the fourth floor dining room. Our chairs were adjacent to those of three attractive French-speaking ladies. At first Frank was seated between Sue and these women, but before everyone was settled he asked to exchange seats with Sue. His explanation was simple: “I can’t control my hands.”