Seven Days at Sea: A Family Tradition

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are my own and do not represent those of my employer. This content was generated with the assistance of AI language models but curated and controlled by me. For more of my writing, visit rikkisnah.github.io.

Every year, without negotiation or debate, we do this.

A Disney cruise.
Together.

It is not about novelty anymore. It is about continuity. About anchoring time to something predictable in a world that rarely is. This year, that anchor stretched across seven days at sea—Seattle to Orlando, then onward to Castaway Cay, the British Virgin Islands, and the U.S. Virgin Islands.

The journey always begins before the ship does. We flew from Seattle to Orlando and arrived a day early, staying close to the port. That extra buffer matters. It removes urgency. It tells the week, quietly, that it will not be rushed. Once the logistics were done, the trip could become what it was meant to be.

From the moment we boarded, Disney set the tone. Everything worked, but nothing demanded attention. The experience felt guided rather than controlled. There were crowds—families, grandparents, children moving in clusters—but it never tipped into chaos. It felt designed for slowness, for presence, for shared movement without friction. Systems hummed invisibly in the background so that families could focus on something increasingly rare: each other.

That first evening mattered. Dinner was unhurried. A glass of California red wine. The ship eased away from the port around seven, the city receding as the ocean took over. Later, drinks at the Skipper’s Society Bar. A movie playing—familiar, comforting. Then the Christmas tree lights came on, and something shifted. Time stretched. The night closed the way it began: together. Me, Estelle, Rekha, and Roy. No schedules waiting. Day two would be at sea.

Sea days are where the cruise reveals its real value. No ports to chase. No boxes to check. Just movement without destination. Lunch at Palo Steakhouse for the adults—quiet, refined, intentionally slow—while the kids explored the ship, laughing and discovering corners that felt briefly like their own. Dinner brought Marvel heroes, oversized smiles, and shared jokes that carried across the table. The sky changed constantly, sun giving way to clouds, light shifting as if the ship itself was breathing.

Christmas arrived gently. No chimney. No cold. No urgency. Presents were opened slowly, almost ceremonially. Paper softened by careful hands. Rekha smiling. Roy laughing freely. Estelle watching, aware in that way parents are when they know moments are already becoming memories. Later, we drifted into quieter spaces—the haunted bar, lower voices, dimmer lights. The ocean seemed to know there were only two days left. So did we.

Another day at sea followed, marked by small rituals rather than events. A Disney haircut. Swimming despite the crowds. A father and son choosing noise and motion over perfection. Before dinner, wine at sunset—just Estelle and me—golden light, no agenda. Dinner at Plaza de Coco brought laughter and warmth, and the night ended with a photo beside Disney Santa. Different moments, same ship. One family, held together by proximity and intention.

St. Thomas was the first real interruption of the rhythm. And yet, it felt familiar. The island carried echoes of Mauritius—small, historically dense, warm in a way that feels lived-in rather than curated. Driving on the “wrong” side of the road. Familiar chaos. Familiar calm. We explored side by side, without rushing to cover ground. Back onboard, we watched Zootopia together, laughter rippling through the room, followed by fireworks that felt earned rather than staged.

Then came Castaway Cay.

I still found us a quiet place. A cabana. A stretch of private beach where silence was not empty but generous. Roy and Rekha laughing in the sun. All of us exactly where we were meant to be. Later, drinks again at the Skipper’s Society Bar—watching the light change, the day slowly giving itself away. Dinner at Plaza de Coco one last time. A final meal that felt like home.

The last evening always carries a particular weight. A little sadness. A lot of gratitude. You feel the edges of the experience closing in, not abruptly, but firmly. You realize what you are about to lose—and what you are lucky to have had at all.

This trip, like the ones before it, left us with something better than souvenirs. It left us with shared references, quiet jokes, remembered light, and a reinforced truth: the best gifts are not things. They are moments where time slows just enough for you to notice who is standing next to you.

We disembarked knowing, already, that we would be back.

Because traditions are not about repetition.

They are about return.

Photos

Audio Notes (with Transcripts)

Audio hosted on OCI Object Storage: https://objectstorage.us-phoenix-1.oraclecloud.com/n/axbtr6skl2h2/b/rikkisnah-github-media/o/disney-cruise-dec-2025/

Day 1 — Rikesh

We arrived a day early, staying near the port, the Castle Hotel, so we wouldn’t miss this moment. A $140 cab ride later, the logistics were done. The journey could begin.

From the very first day, Disney set the tone. Organized, calm, intentional. Friendly faces everywhere.

Not rush, nor force. Just welcoming. Yes, there were crowds.

Families, generation moving together. And yet, it never felt chaotic. It felt guided, thoughtfully designed.

And everywhere you looked, systems were working, AI were working, quietly behind the scenes. So families could slow down, be present, and seemingly enjoy being together.

Day 2 (AM) — Transcript only (audio not uploaded yet) - Rikesh

Day one is finished. Our first day in Disney heaven. Dinner was fabulous.

Red wine from California. We left the port around 7pm. The ship moved and the city stayed behind.

Later, drinks at Skipper’s Society Bar. A movie playing with my favourite actor, The Rock. Then came the Christmas tree.

Lights on. Time slowed. We closed the night the way it began.

Together. Me, Estelle, Rekha and Roy. Day two will be at sea.

No schedule, no rushing. Just the ocean and the joy of being here.

Christmas — Roy

Christmas, for me, is about being together. Right now, I’m on a Disney cruise with my family, and it reminds me that the best gifts aren’t things, they’re moments. Waking up together, laughing, sharing meals, and feeling grateful for what we have.

Christmas is a time to slow down, be kind, and remember how lucky we are to have family who loves us. Wherever you are this Christmas, I hope you feel joy, peace, and togetherness. Merry Christmas.

Day 2 — Rekha

Day two, at sea. Mom and dad had lunch at Palo Steakhouse, premium Italian food. Meanwhile, my brother and I had fun, laughing, exploring.

Disney shops, little treasures everywhere, gifts, memories. Dinner came later at the Marvell restaurant. Big heroes, big smiles.

The sky shifted, sunny then clouded, lights changing, all of it abroad the treasure. At sea, together.

Day 3 — Estelle

Day 3, another day at sea on the treasure. The weather shifted, sunny then rainy. Rekha and I, a haircut, Disney style.

A little sparkle, a lot of smiles. Meanwhile, Rik and Roy went swimming, crowded but it didn’t matter. A dad and his son, time well spent.

Before dinner, me and Rik, wine at sunset, quiet, golden. Dinner at Plaza del Coco, laughter at the table. And the night ended with a picture, Disney Santa.

Different moments, same ship, one family.

Day 4 — Rikesh

Day four, afternoon, St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands. Estelle, Rekha and Roy, the island felt familiar. Like Mauritius, a reminder of what we left behind when we came to the U.S. It is small, rich with history, and yes, we drive on the wrong side of the road.

A great day. We explore together, side by side. Now we’re back on board.

Watch the movie of the year, Zootopia. Laughter fell all around the place. Then dinner, fireworks in the sky.

A full day, a family day, one to remember.

Day 5 — Rikesh

Christmas at sea. No chimney, no snow, and yet the magic still found us. Presents open slowly, papers soft in our hands, as if time itself was being careful.

Rekha smiling, Roy laughing, Estelle watching, knowing moments pass, even as they shine. We drifted to the haunted bar. Voices lower, the night a little quieter.

Two days left, the ocean knows it, so do we. Still a ship, a family, holding on just a little long.

Day 7 — Rikesh

Day 7, Castaway Island. I still found us a quiet place, a cabana, a stretch of private beach. The kind of silence that lets you breathe.

Roy and Rekha laughing in the sun. All of us exactly where we were meant to be. Later in the day, drinks at Skipper’s Society Bar.

Watching the light change. Then, towards the evening, dinner at Plaza de Coco. One last meal that felt like home.

The final evening, a little sadness, a lot of gratitude. We leave with fresh, caring memories. Already knowing that we will be coming back.