Warning: This article contains spoilers.
Warning: This article is gross.

Although I have friends and family who've had glorious cruise experiences, it’s never appealed to me. And after watching Netflix’s documentary, “Trainwreck: Poop Cruise,” I’m even less inclined to step foot on board.

The 55-minute documentary tells the harrowing tale of the 2013 Carnival Triumph cruise ship that caught on fire and left passengers without power, food, cell phone service and sanitation.

Originally, the cruise was scheduled as a four-day, round-trip event from Galveston, Texas, to Cozumel, Mexico. However, due to the lack of power, the crew and passengers were stranded at sea for eight days. Needless to say, sh-t got real.

I am both recommending and not recommending this documentary. It’s putrid – I’m grateful “smellivision” never became a thing – and nightmarish, but it’s also incredibly funny at times and maybe, almost a story of resilience.

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13 thoughts I had while watching “Poop Cruise”:

1. Why would anyone go on a cruise in the first place? I really don't get it, despite my polite talk in the opening sentences of this article. I would not go on a cruise if Jon Hamm and Sterling K. Brown invited me for a three-day threesome to paradise. Cruises are floating claustrophobic foodborne illness fiascos and trigger unfortunate visions of hack comics, flaccid cantaloupe slices and wet T-shirt contests. But 4,000+ people felt differently, and on Feb. 7, 2013, boarded the Carnival Triumph.

2.  Throughout the documentary, numerous passengers and crew members narrate the horror, including galpals Kalin, Ashley and Jayme who took the cruise to celebrate Ashley’s bachelorette party (with an emphasis on the word "party"). These landlubbing ladies were laser-focused about getting so lit they didn’t know their bow from their stern – and for the first three days, they succeeded, as proven by pics of them passed out in the passageways. The three amigas borrachas were my least favorite narrators, but they did spit out some of the best lines. “I don’t even remember getting back on board,” said Ashley. “We left our dignity in Cozumel.” Kalin even admitted they skipped the safety briefing and headed straight to the bar upon boarding. Ope.

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3. The cruise chef – the best interview of the doc – provided a solid piece of life advice: when you see smoke billowing up and out of your sink drain, something is very wrong. Note to self.

4. After everyone on the ship realized they weren't going to be rescued anytime soon because the fire damage was too great to restore the power, cruise life became a lot less social. Guests went into survival mode. The booby, sunburned dude who won the onboard break dance contest with his mortifying attempt at "the worm" is suddenly grabbing more than his share of rationed soggy tomato sandwiches, and by day six, the sweet honeymooning couple from Loveville are openly fornicating on a deck chair. But the amazing part to me is the lack of violence or assault. The passengers were selfish with resources and became territorial of the “camps” they created on deck with bedsheets, but thankfully, no one went Blackbeard on board.

5. Whoever thought liquidating the ship’s bars and offering free, warm alcohol to the hot, hungry, agitated guests was clearly unfamiliar with the effects of alcohol. Especially the effects of alcohol on people with empty stomachs and erupting feelings of mistreatment. The bachelorettes, however, thought the idea was brilliant. And there was definitely a lot of this:

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6. Let’s get to the brown elephant in the middle of the lido deck. The sh-t didn’t really hit the fan until the fourth day, when not only were the toilets unflushable (they ran on electricity), but the sewage started to gurgle out of the drains. Eventually, raw sewage filled the cabins and hallways. One person described walking down the hallway as a "squish, squish, squish" experience. I salute the passengers' tolerance as I might have considered overboarding myself at that point.

7. No, we are not done talking about pee and poop. Originally, the captain’s command to dispose of “number one” was to pee in the showers. The solution for “number two” was to make the deposit in red biohazard bags. I don’t understand why, considering everything awful happening, the guests were so opposed to crapping in a plastic satchel. One of the passengers vowed to hold it until he was on land again – I think he might have – and Ashley's response: “I was like, “Oh, no, no way’ and I immediately started popping Imodium.” 

8. I will never watch “Poop Cruise” again, but if anyone reading this does, I propose playing a drinking game where you take a guzzle every time someone says “red bag.” 

9. I didn’t dislike everyone interviewed who survived the crap cruise. There was a very sweet man who took his 12-year-old daughter on the cruise to reconnect with her after a messy divorce from the girl’s mother. They both started out so happy to spend time together, but once the power went out – along with the cell service – the girl felt very afraid and disconnected from the warmth of her mom. And yet, at the end of the doc we learn the two continue to go on cruises together regularly. 

10. The expression “poop lasagna” should not exist, but unfortunately, because of this documentary, it does.

11. Tugboats are amazing. They looked like cute watercrafts straight outta “The Little Golden Books” series, and yet were able to tow the 250-ton floating petri dish to the shores of Mobile, Ala. When the passengers finally walked onto the docks, one kissed the ground and, unlike Katy Perry, truly earned that smooch of sheer gratitude.

12. The irony that the detested ship finally made it to shore on Valentine’s Day was lost on no one. Except maybe Ashley, who was already pounding an Alabama Slammer. (Just kidding; couldn’t resist.) Turns out, Ashley actually had a pretty great sense of humor and, according to the closing credits, gave her bridesmaids their wedding thank-you gifts in red biohazard bags.

13. At the end, we are introduced to the cigar-smoking, bourbon-drinking Frank Spagnoletti, a maritime lawyer who is waiting for the lawsuits to roll in like the evening tide. He disclosed that in the previous two years the cruise ship line suffered nine incidents of faulty fuel lines. He also reminded viewers the importance of reading the fine print when signing up for a cruise, as the contract often includes something about making "absolutely no guarantees for a safe passage, a seaworthy vessel, adequate and wholesome food, and sanitary and safe living conditions."

Did I mention I am never, ever going on a cruise?