Inaugural Sailing of NCL's Luna - 13 - Day Transatlantic Cruise

13 days. 8 thousand miles. One identity crisis.

May 1, 2026

When Marcia and I booked our latest getaway, we had no idea we’d be stepping onto the Norwegian Luna for its inaugural voyage. I will admit, I loved the "new boat smell" - the Luna had only been in NCL’s hands for a week when we boarded. Even better, the ship was capped at 70% capacity, giving us a rare sense of breathing room in an industry often known for tight squeezes.

But as I looked out at the horizon, I realized what I had truly signed up for: a repositioning Transatlantic cruise. 13 days total. 8 straight days at sea. To up the ante, I set a challenge for myself: no TV and no internet. I wanted to detox, to get my own thoughts back, and to see if I could handle the stillness.

The Mid-Ocean Meltdown

I thought I had prepared well. I brought books, my computer, and a plan to walk my usual 4 to 8 miles a day on decks and treadmills. But the Atlantic had other plans. Between the rain, rough seas,  and the constant swaying, the gym felt hazardous and sitting (or laying) felt like the best option, always.

Deprived of my usual exercise, I turned to the next best thing: the buffet. Three full meals a day plus dessert started to weigh on my body and my mind. 

I had vowed to only use the 150 free minutes provided to monitor my business. On day five, I logged in to find a string of "spammy" emails from my Roku account. My imagination, fueled by isolation, boredom, and position in the Atlantic went wild.


(Even though I wasn't fearful on the boat, something happens in your land-lover brain when you see this day after day)

Did someone break in? Did they steal my Rokus and sell them on the black market? Did they steal other stuff? Is my entire identity being liquidated while I’m stuck in the middle of the ocean?

I reached out to MO in panic and then went into a fetal position, emotional and crying over hypothetical life-ruin. It was a "Lower Limit" moment—a concept I only recognized once I cracked open Gay Hendricks’ The Big Leap. I realized I was self-sabotaging my own peace because I didn't know how to handle the lack of "busy-ness."

I prayed and gave it to God. 1. It's only stuff. 2. God will protect you and give you wisdom.

MO graciously acted and responded and put my mind at further real-world (not just faith) ease.

After my crisis, I would say that it took me almost eight days to finally "settle in." I was sleep-deprived from travel, over-fed, over indulged, and had spent way too much "boredom money" at the casino. But I was able to make a shift.

I Went Back to my "Normal - Life" Roots:

Early Birding: I started waking up before the other 3,000 passengers. Early morning is always my jam.

Perfect Spot: I finally found it. It was a spinny chair on deck 7 that fit my height, and the speakers played old-timey jazzy big band music. That spot felt like home. I was able to read, write and process there.

Two-Meal Rule: I cut out breakfast and some sweets, returning to my natural eating rhythm.

Isometric Movement: Since the deck was too rocky for power-walking, I pivoted to balance and resistance exercises.

A Floating Utopia: The People of the Luna

Once I calmed my mind, the real magic of a Transatlantic cruise revealed itself. Without the distraction of daily ports and constant "on-and-off" logistics, the ship became a little greenhouse for human connections to percolate and grow.

It was really this little utopia where conversations could grow and continue. Each person left a little imprint. A thought, and idea, a connection. I would say that's where the richness of the experience came off to me. 

And maybe it's the introvert in me. Maybe it's the boomerang from coming off the isolation of covid. Maybe it's the fact I haven't been in a people-rich environment for several years. Maybe it was just the people on that boat at that time? I don't know. But it wasn’t just an "adult summer camp." It was an exercise in growth. I think I'm ready for more of it! And would recommend for you!