An ocean cruise, def.: claustrophobia with a chance of drowning.
And now—aimless drifting while surrounded by sewage stench.
It doesn’t get any better than that! (Unless it’s a `Reason’ or NR cruise and you’re surrounded by libertarians or neo-cons.)
If you have your cigars, something that holds liquor, and a bottle of bourbon, you have a party.
I’d be OK.