The Giant Turkey that Ate My Thanksgiving

For me, Thanksgiving 2012 began in May, when I was dispatched to Galveston, Texas, to escort a contractor onboard Carnival Dream. The contractor had been hired by Carnival Cruise Line to create a giant inflatable turkey for a planned Thanksgiving public relations stunt.

It was the usual: fly out of Miami to Houston, rent a car and drive through the endless strip mall of southern Texas to the Port of Galveston, overnight at the crappy hotel next to the port and fly back the following day. I was to get the contractor onboard the ship and assist him taking measurements and photos on the Sports Deck of Carnival Dream, identical sister ship to the new Carnival Breeze, which was set to debut at Thanksgiving.

I returned to Miami and promptly forgot about the project for the next five months.

But as the arrival of Carnival Breeze approached, the specter of the turkey re-entered my life. There was a press release and media alert to write, a media list to pull together and security clearances for me and the crew hired to erect the turkey.

Carnival Breeze — at the time Carnival’s largest ship ever home ported at Miami — arrived Tuesday, Nov. 19, and was set to depart on its maiden voyage Thursday, Nov. 22, Thanksgiving Day.

Wednesday, Nov. 21 found me at the port at 5:30 a.m. to meet the contractor and the crew and help muscle the huge crate containing the 1,250-pound inflatable onboard the ship and up to the Sports Deck. The heavy wooden box had casters and had been built to fit into the ship’s elevators — with a half-inch to spare on either side. Because of the tight fit, no one could ride in the elevator with the box, so half of us preceded the bird and half of the crew came in a later elevator.

What ensued was several hours of stretching, inflating, spotlighting and securing a gigantic, 50-foot-tall turkey wearing a straw hat and a colorful Hawaiian shirt.

As soon as it was fully inflated, I called Andy Newman from our agency, who was waiting with a helicopter to shoot aerial photos of the bird. Sure enough, moments later we were being buzzed by a copter with Andy hanging out of the open door, camera in hand.

I’ll admit, I was dubious of the coverage potential of the stunt because it seemed so stunt-like. But I was wrong. Thanksgiving is usually a news wasteland, and with no big news breaking and Andy’s close relationship with the Associated Press, his photos and video were picked up by newspapers and TV stations all over the country, which more than justified the rumored $150,000 the big bird cost.

So, mission accomplished, and Thanksgiving morning dawned with me once again at Port Miami at 5:30 a.m., joining the crew to remove the giant turkey. It took a couple of hours to deflate the bird and stuff it back into the crate, navigate the elevator and forklift the thing off the ship via a loading dock.

I was home by noon and started preparing our holiday meal, but my heart wasn’t in it — I had had my fill of Thanksgiving turkey.