Everyone's On Board

On the plus side, the staff was relentlessly friendly, engaged and helpful, from the captain to the janitors. Most passengers save up all year to take this vacation, and the crew is trained to make them feel like royalty. For the first time in his life, Carter was treated with respect by every adult he encountered, who carefully inquired what he'd like to eat, drink and do. He was spoiled and fussed over, and kid enough to be amused when our cabin attendant created folded towels into the now-famous animal shapes.

If I have to choose between so-so food and a lovely staff or perfect food with indifferent service, I'll pick the towel animal guys any day of the week. At the end of the trip, I happily tipped the recommended amounts, and a bit extra.

Teen Beat

The programs for children ages 11 and younger are carefully monitored and structured, but kids 12 and older are allowed to come and go or participate as they please. Although I encouraged Carter to attend a number of the Navigators' scheduled activities, he quickly concluded that most of the daily programs never actually took place. (The line cancels activities if not enough kids show up.)

There were plenty of teenagers on this cruise, and plenty in the Living Room and the Fuel nightclub, the teen-only lounge and disco, but they preferred to simply hang out or watch movies, and the counselors never insisted on participation. For some teenagers this would be heaven, but it bored Carter. I nudged him to try and try again: Surely the poker session would be well attended. We arranged to meet by the pool in an hour. He was back in 10 minutes. "Told ya," he said with a grin. "Didn't happen."

I knew we had entered new territory when my video-game obsessive passed on a scheduled PlayStation session. "You don't want to play PS2?" I asked, shocked. "Nah," he said. "There's too much to do."

If anything, we found an abundance of shipboard treats well-suited for a modern teen. The arcade was well-equipped and lively, although Carter spent just $40 there during the entire week (room keys double as shipboard charge cards). The rock-climbing wall had no allure for him, but he played free mini-golf every day, twice when he could lure me up for a match I would usually lose. The ship's closed-circuit television offered ESPN, sitcoms and stupid movies, which he adored and I ignored.

What surprised and pleased me, however, was that Carter had a blast at the live game shows. I feared the "adult recommended" meant they would be too mature for him, but aside from a midnight comic restricted to adults, most of the after-dinner offerings were less risque than the average PG-13 movie. He loved "Battle of the Sexes," "Love & Marriage," "Quest" and "Majority Rules" -- and yes, the sight of a dozen men racing around in bras was profoundly silly and right up his alley. He was delighted by Cruise Director Graham Seymour, a playful Englishman in the Monty Python tradition. He stayed up past midnight almost every night, and then collapsed in a contented slumber.

What he loved best of all was bingo, which he stumbled upon for the first time while exploring the ship on Day Two of the trip. Restricted from the casino for another five years, my little poker player discovered elaborate variations on B-I-N-G-O. For a mere $35 per session, my son (accompanied by an adult -- me) could play five games for the big jackpot, which grew to more than $7,000 by the end of the cruise. Did we play bingo almost every day? Yes. Did we spend $175? Indeed we did. Did we win a single game? No, but we came within one number -- and Carter received a T-shirt after playing the fourth time. Did we have a ridiculously good time together? Yes.

Given the scope of shipboard offerings, I never felt pressured to cram too much into our shore excursions. I could book them through Royal Caribbean, but was told that it was just as easy -- and often cheaper -- to arrange them in port. I dug around on the Internet, trying to figure out the best trips in San Juan, St. Thomas, St. Maarten and Nassau. I wanted to spend most of the time with Carter, so I ignored the heavy-handed shopping pitches (okay, I bought one pair of earrings), anything too exhausting or the dreaded "too educational."

In San Juan, we skipped the ship's $30-per-person tour to the Bacardi Rum factory and opted for the local ferry (50 cents each way) and a gypsy cab ($2 each way) to the factory, where I received free samples and Carter learned a little history and science. Feeling festive, we even posed for touristy pictures with macaws on our heads. In St. Thomas, a local driver took us to Magens Bay for a lazy, sunburnt afternoon on the beach. In Nassau, we hopped a water taxi to Paradise Island, where we walked around the fabulous Atlantis resort and spent an hour gazing at the massive lobby aquarium.

The author's son, Carter, plays with a dolphin at Dolphin Discovery, a shore excursion.(Roxanne Roberts - The Washington Post)

The biggest splurge ($159 per person) was the only excursion I booked in advance through the ship: an up-close and personal encounter with dolphins on Anguilla. After ferry and bus rides, we landed at a small facility where we split into small groups, strapped on life jackets and bobbed in an oceanside pool with Al, our designated dolphin. For about 30 minutes, Carter petted, kissed and fell in love with the playful creature, laughing at and with him.

"Can we sneak in with the next group?" he pleaded, only half-kidding.