I was on the 2nd deck, and it was - by normal standards - very rough, but the waves did not go over my window!!! We did look a lot like that guy walking down the hallway though.

All the people I passed in the halls and saw at dinner were mostly laughing about it, but I imagine the ones who were seasick were in their rooms.

I was in awe of the waitstaff, working in those conditions! I only saw 1 server drop a tray that night. I can't imagine trying to carry a tray while rockin' and rollin' like we were!

I'd be upstairs, probably puking my guts out.

I crossed several times from NYC to Europe on the QE2 in the 1970s. I had a couple of tough crossing. The worst had a couple of days of 30-40 foot swells with 70+ knots at an angle. The corridors and such were roped because the angles were so severe. Several windows were blown out in the dining rooms. The QE2 was not as top heavy as the newer ships, but it was still a bit anxious.

I get seasick...

We had a cabin on the ninth deck at the front of the ship.
They had to close the sea doors to our cabin and I watched the waves wash over the deck in front of us.
Needless to say, we were able to get into any of the restaurants that night. )))

My husband is a senior officer aboard Anthem of the Seas, and I was aboard for this trip.

Here's the thing:

These ships are designed to transit oceans. The ocean is not predictable, nor does it care how we feel about it. The modern ships are designed to take way more than the people onboard can. They are "tank tested," meaning that conditions are simulated to see exactly how much they can take. The senior staff is simulator-trained, to see how much they can take.

Our cabin is on Deck 12, right behind the bridge. I spent the day spread eagled on our bed, clutching the edges of the mattress, alternatively crawling out into the main salon to ferry the microwave, the coffee pot, and anything that could fall from the countertop into the bathtub. I just let the furniture tumble around at will after trying for an hour to keep it upright.

At one point my husband called me from his office and asked how I was doing. "Should I be scared?" I asked. He said "if you think it will help."

Yes, it was a long day, and a long evening. But from my spread-eagle position, watching Mad Max at full volume on the TV and switching channels to see watch the onboard ship's status channel report the air pressure falling like a rock and the winds picking up to over 150 knots, I never feared for my life. The ship is over a thousand feet long -- the waves (driven by offshore winds) never reached over 30 feet which is nothing for a ship this size. The scary thing was the wind, which made it nearly impossible to keep the ship headed into it. (Think a 1000-foot building, 200 feet high, being pushed by a Category 5 wind). The ship's roll was calculated at a total of about 18 degrees, which doesn't sound like much, until you realize that 5 degrees will cause a Steinway to slide uncontrollably. The bowthrusters were running constantly, trying to assist the azipods in keeping the ship pointed into the wind.

The staff was communicative, with the Captain and Cruise Director making hourly announcements, and the crew doing the best they could for those 14 hours, I was impressed. Later I heard the ship lost over 30% of its china and glassware. I dined on whatever was in the - cabin -- as luck would have it, a delicious dinner of bananas and beer.

With over 6000 people aboard, there were only minor injuries: 4 people with minor bumps and scrapes, those who refused to just stay put and ride it out. The ugly thing was that during the event, people were live-tweeting and facebooking, making the whole thing seem way worse than it was. And even uglier was CNN at the dock in Bayonne, interviewing people at 1:00 a.m. and ignoring those who had no bad things to say.

I just have to say that professional mariners are the best. I'm married to one. And I'm aboard now, leaving the noreaster behind and heading for the Bahamas as we speak.

I am the mom of a profesional mariner. He's also a sr. officer. They are the best. He's back on land at the moment but I continue to enjoy his tales from the sea. He's encountered quite a few bouts of foul weather over the years.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

I don't really get sea sick, but I doubt I would do well for 14 hours of that.

Thanks for filling us in.

on a ferry to Isle Royal from the UP. The waves were big enough to pick the boat up, both screws out of the water and shake like a bugger. Lots of fun but all I could think of was the Edmund Fitzgerald.

You're in the middle of the ocean. If you don't get hit with at least a couple hours of rough seas, you're not getting your money's worth.

Wow!

try being in a sea like that on a 2250 ton tin can vs. 168,000 ton cruise ship. That is a really wild ride.