Working for Disney is a very similar experience wherever you are globally. Your cast member title carries a certain amount of weight behind it as you help guests enjoy the magic, whether it’s while grabbing a bite to eat, buying a snuggable new plush, or lowering a lap bar and tugging on the yellow strap. The cast member experience doesn’t drastically differ. The magic is made, yet life continues on. While an extra bit of sparkle is added to day-to-day life, being a cast member is part of a regular routine.
I have worked for Disney in many forms over the past five years. From merchandise to transportation to attractions, putting on the nametag and heading to work has brought joys and challenges like any other job, but with the underlying knowledge that you’re a part of guests' core memories. The experiences you witness on a daily basis as a Disney cast member later go into scrapbooks, social media posts, and the invisible rolodex of joyful times that line peoples’ brains.
When I was offered a position with Disney Cruise Line, I thought the same routine would occur. Disney during the day, regular life at night, and maybe the occasional rocky seas while trying to sleep. The position opened up while COVID was still rearing its ugly head, so with maritime law and the cruise line industry under even higher alert than land, it was a risky time to start sailing.
The moment I boarded, the cast member rhetoric went away. “Crew Member” became the new descriptor, adding a seafaring twist to the iconic Disney lingo. At first, it was a bit jarring. With the new title came the understanding that a lot is going to be different when living at sea. Safety drills, life jackets, assembly stations, cabin numbers, dining rotations, and Key to the World cards added to the culture shock DCL was for this longtime cast member. Amidst the cacophony of new information and assimilation, I was shocked to finally find a sense of belonging.
Often, the phrase “find your tribe” is thrown around so often, it ends up on Rae Dunn mugs that fill shelves at HomeGoods. It has passed from cliche into the realm of ironic mockery. About a month into my first contract at sea, I began to imagine those ridiculous mugs and realized, gosh darn it, they were right. I was beginning to turn into a walking Cracker Barrel gift shop.
Being able to work at sea takes a certain kind of person. I dove into the experience without really considering anything other than the concept of “oh my god, FUN!” (Was that smart? Absolutely not, but ya know, hindsight is 20/20 as Barbara Walters once said.) However, once you board, the realizations kick in. No freedom to go wherever you please. No family. No at-home friends. A lack of solid wifi. Working everyday. It’s an undertaking.
During my first contract, the fear of what I was giving up quickly dissipated as I started to create bonds that I had always yearned for my entire life. Considering the aforementioned mug quote, I was starting to finally find people that I could connect with on every level. With everyone deciding to make the same choice to live their lives at sea, we started with a baseline commonality. From there, being around the same people everyday became an instant joy. Working in the same, albeit bizarre, environment was a stepping stone into meaningful relationships. Living and working with the same people will lead to conflict, of course, but because of the enclosed environment, the resolvement of the issues were natural and heartfelt.
When training was occurring for my first Disney Cruise Line contract, we were frequently told about the experience as a whole. “You become a family,” trainers would say. “After your contract, you’ll go back on land and no one will understand what you went through. Ship life is its own beast, so these connections you make will be extra special.” They were right, tenfold.
As I made my way back to Port Canaveral for my second contract, I worried it was a fluke. The relationships I already created at sea were so strong, it wouldn’t continue that way, would it? Alas, the trainers were right. Another contract meant another set of bonds, incredibly tight.
Typing this up, I have been reminiscing about my time on the shimmering seas. Two contracts down, I know now the deep, structural impact Disney Cruise Line has given me. My love for my friends, my teams, and my floating homes is ever-flowing. As they say on the Wish, “I’m ready, let’s set sail!”
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