iStockphoto
A little more than a decade ago, the Carnival “Poop Cruise” had a stranglehold on the United States. It was all news and media outlets were reporting on for a three-to-five-day stretch in February of 2013.
Some might not remember the madness. Others may recall it vividly. Those that were onboard will never forget. Now, everyone can relive the viral moment in the Netflix documentary, Trainwreck: Poop Cruise, which was released earlier this month.
The doc takes viewers on a trip down a disgusting memory lane while providing firsthand experiences from a few different groups aboard the vessel. Some interviewed were partygoers. Others were taking family trips. A few were on staff of the Carnival cruise ship. One chef will never look at lasagna the same way – more on that later!
As the show title states, the cruise was a trainwreck. It went as badly as possible, but you simply can’t look away. I don’t typically get joy out of watching the misfortunes of others, but this 55-minute show was pure entertainment. It might also force me to rethink ever boarding a cruise ship again.
More than 4,000 travelers were on the Carnival Triumph, which left Galveston, Texas for a 4-day vacation to Mexico. All was well as the ship made its way into Cozumel, where the cruise unloaded guests for a day of partying and sightseeing.
One group on a bachelorette trip detailed drinking heavily, to the point they didn’t remember reboarding the boat. They woke up to an absolute hell.
Around 5 AM or so, alarms began to sound. The boat had lost power. We’ve all been unpleasantly awoken from a drunken coma by way of a fire alarm. It happened far too frequently in my college dormitory. Now, image it happening while you’re in the middle of the ocean. Not ideal.
Travelers arose from their cabins to see smoke bellowing out of engine room where a fire had started. Initially, things were believed to be manageable. Guests were assured power would be regained once engineers were able to get inside and take a look. That wouldn’t be the case.
With no power onboard, nothing worked – including the toilets. The Poop Cruise was soon floating aimlessly throughout the Gulf of Mexico.
Remember when a cruise ship lost power and 4,000 passengers were stranded at sea without flushing toilets?
Trainwreck: Poop Cruise is now playing. pic.twitter.com/BEWy5ggSQ4
— Netflix (@netflix) June 24, 2025
Passengers aboard the Poop Cruise dealt with hellish conditions.
There was no A/C, leading guests to pull mattresses from their overheating cabins to sleep outside on the ship deck. There was no food – at least not any good food. Perishables were tossed. Sandwich lines took the place of buffets. There was no cell service or WiFi. No one could get in touch with family or friends.
One mom whose then-12-year-old daughter was onboard recalled frantically trying to reach her family to no avail. At this point, no one truly knew how bad the situation was. They soon would.
When power was lost, the ship was close enough to Mexico to get a tugboat. By the time that boat was set to arrive, the Carnival Triumph had floated closer to the US, forcing the rescue mission to instead be rerouted to Alabama.
That unexpected change of plans added days to the trip. At this point, guests were being asked to poop in plastic bags and pee in the shower (the words everyone wants to hear on vacation!). Plumbing couldn’t handle it, leading to puddles of excrement building up in bathrooms. That was made worse when the cruise crew opted to open the bar for one regrettable night.
With passengers looking for any reason to celebrate what had now become a ruined trip, the ship tried to provide a small victory. They thought opening the bar would be “fun.” It instead resulted in fights, deviance, and more than a handful of instances of balcony peeing – which might’ve helped in this case. After one day, the bars closed for good.
Now, back to the Poop Cruise.
When tugboats arrived, they shifted the ship. Everything that had previously been sitting in those toilets and showers now poured down onto the walls, into the carpets, and in every other place imaginable. More than a few Carlos and Charlies t-shirts likely met their demise thanks to the unremovable smell that lingered throughout the ship.
Interviewees vividly remember the squishing of the wet ground as they walked from place to place. One chef, who compared the poop-atop-toilet-paper-atop-poop-atop-toilet-paper scenery in the staff commodes to lasagna (gross?!), was seen pictured in flip flops standing ankle deep in p— and s—.
All the while, media had been running with the story at the expense of the guests’ dignity. Eventually, the Carnival Triumph returned safely to dock in Mobile, Alabama. I imagine there being a stiff odor in the air and a cartoonish green cloud of stink following closely behind.
Carnival settled a number of legal cases after the fact. Passengers received a refund, transportation reimbursement, $500, and a voucher for a free cruise. Anyone onboard the Carnival Triumph would consider it anything but a win. Rather than cut ties with the ship, though, the company spent $115 million to restore it. It still travels under a new name, but there are some things etched into the bones of the Poop Cruise that will never be removed.