Cruise 2024 - The Anniversary Cruise - Part 2 - Tortola

 

Day 3 – At Sea

I start the day by losing my cap. My mother taught me to never wear a hat while I'm eating so when we went to breakfast this morning, I carefully took off my favorite cap, a souvenir from Brookgreen Gardens, near Pawley's Island, South Carolina, and placed it under my chair. I then promptly forgot it was there. When did I remember? Long after the dining room had been reset for dinner, so I went to the customer service deck which maintains the ship's lost and found. I described my beloved hat in great detail, but the young lady said, "No, there is no hat like that in lost and found, sorry!" Oh well, I’ll check back again later.

The veteran's get together was just that, a veterans get together because the ship's staff forgot it was happening. So the twelve if us chatted among ourselves for awhile and decided to see if we could get together again later on the cruise. Again, I'm the only Air Force veteran, everybody else is either Army or Marine, with one Coast Guardsman. I did meet one Canadian and one Scot who spent fifteen years in Germany. One US Army veteran was later informed by Celebrity staff that his son died yesterday in Los Angeles. He and his wife will be getting off the ship in Tortola where Celebrity customer service has arranged for them to be flown to San Juan and then home.

The Scotsman, John, who turned out to be a police constable from the very north of Scotland. He met his wife in Germany as well, but Linda was a Brit serving in the Army in Mönchengladbach, about one hundred miles or so north of where I was stationed. We hit it off and have been together several times now. 

He had one of the best stories I've heard in years and I can't resist telling it, of at least my interpretation of the story. As George Bernard Shaw said, England and America are separated by a common language–it is even harder for Scots–but here goes:

John: "I've worked security duty around Balmoral castle, the Queen's personal retreat for many years, and got to know his Highness, the Duke of Windsor when he spent time at the castle as a youth. While cordial, we always maintained the correct decorum around the royal family, and "your highness" usually fell away to "sir," but lately, since Her Majesty's passing, things are quite a bit more formal. Last summer, my youngest brother and I were fly fishing a section of the river, having a bit a good luck, when a large entourage came up the river. The Gilley, the guide, came up to us and said, 'Lads, do you mind if the Royal party fishes through?’"

'No, off course not,’ we said and moved back with our gear as His Highness and his party approached. He recognized me and said, 'Hello John. How is the fishing? Any luck?'

'Aye, we're having a bit of luck," I answered. His Highness looked at my brother and asked, 'Which fly are you using?' to which my brother, leaning over, said, "We're not gonna tell ya!"

The King chuckled and said, "Quite Right!"

To which they all laughed and John's brother told him quietly it was a black pennel fly, 'Always use the black pennel fly!'"

Where else would we meet John and Linda, or Rick and Mary Jane from Toronto, or John and Sesh from Glasgow or Barry and Doris from Cape Coral but on a cruise ship?

The weather is calmer toward lunch time on Wednesday, our second day at sea, but it is overcast from horizon to horizon. Still no birds and no flying fish, either. A great time to sit down in front of my new Android tablet and type away. It does beat doing it by hand, so my notebooks of the future will be on memory sticks. I've got some reading to do as well so it is a great time to catch up.

We eventually wander up to the Fitness Center on the 12th deck and a major difference between this ship and the Island Princess snaps into focus. The Eclipse has a modern, well equipped, roomy fitness center, with magnificent ocean view as opposed to the Island Princess which is basically a small area below decks with as much Feng Shue as a broom closet with an overhead light bulb. We try several of the bicycles and spend sometime getting back into our exercise routine. Have to stay ahead of the calories. They had one of the de rigueur presentations from one of the on-board vendors in progress off to the side of the center. The subliminal on-board merchandising and marketing onslaught is perpetual, and to be quite honest, is rarely subliminal.

The bulk of the passengers is on display, spread around the swimming pool and the four hot tubs, spread out in lounge chairs in every nook and cranny. Yes, that is correct. read it again. The bulk of the passengers is on full display, with an occasional elbow or foot sticking out into the walkways make walking through the tightly packed chairs an exercise in caution. Cloudy weather does not stop the pool deck from being packed. The prophetic movie Wall-e comes to mind.

Day 4 – Tortola

The approach to Tortola, BWI

Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me! How good can it get? I'm standing on the top deck of the Celebrity Eclipse watching the sunrise behind the small islands that mark the entrance into Road Town, Tortola, in the British West Indies. The entrance to Tortola is one of my favorites and I am one happy cruiser.

There are exactly five people quietly absorbing the moment. Two of them aren't even taking photographs, but I'm not one of them as I can't resist the opportunity. Ilse and I were here exactly twenty years ago, back when I was a young, spry sixty-two. Today is just more icing on the proverbial birthday cake. Having my wonderful, loving partner, my wife Ilse, through this life-long journey has been an experience we could only dream of, but every day we do our hugs and kisses and thank each other for being there. There is no way to express my love and appreciation than share the feeling with my life's partner.

We pull into the dock at Road Town and join the Norwegian Breakaway, already moored at the two boat facility. Ilse and I head for the dining room for breakfast. We take our time disembarking well after the rush has subsided.

We spend the day walking the small port town, identifying new buildings and looking at the all too familiar hurricane scars on the trees and shrubbery. The broken and battered poincianas were nevertheless blooming profusely. We walked to the JR O’Neal Botanic Gardens and are informed by the young attendant they no longer have the guest book we signed twenty years ago, and have regrettably instituted a visitors fee to alleviate the cost of repairing hurricane damage to the facilities. 

The three dollar fee probably won’t do much to replace the missing building that graced the entrance or even the small gazebo that housed their orchids, but we met several volunteers working in the small, pristine garden and even climbed the steps to sit on the plain wooden bench that was built years ago over the trunk of a banyan tree that has started life anew, just from a different angle. 

We tour the new - to us, anyway - shopping area at the foot of the pier and have an ice cream cone while listening to local musicians play in the gazebo at the end of the mall. A group of older school children walk through the mall, also with ice cream cones in hand, and seem as amused by the returning cruisers as we are by them. Kids everywhere are the same as kids anywhere else, and I can't help but laugh at how some of the older, more brash males push the boundaries of their mandatory uniform wear but somehow still stay in bounds. 

More fun than shopping for diamonds we really don't need.

Day 5 – Antigua

It is so quiet coming into Antigua's shallow harbor you can hear the roosters crowing on the nearby hillsides. A dog barks in the distance as we silently, almost without a ripple in the water, effortlessly impose our immense presence in our second port of call. The time is beginning to merge into sunrises and sunsets now, meaning we are probably half-way in our cruise. We're in Antigua? Really? Already?

For the first time, I don't bother to go up on top to watch our arrival but then there isn't much of a sunrise as it is partially cloudy and the sky is oddly colorless. I maneuver our deck chairs and get comfortable on the balcony. None of our cabin mates are on their balconies, so again it seems I am alone as we sail in to the harbor. 

Our silent, stealthy movement into the harbor seems so preposterous it is almost mesmerizing. To be eleven stories above the water, moving without leaving a trace on the placid, aquamarine colored water directly beneath us, listening to roosters crow is going to be a test to describe.

The serenity is rudely interrupted by a huge power surge from the rear thrusters just behind us. The water boils furiously, the opaque greenish blue water churns to milk-chocolate brown as the huge ship begins to turn around. The surging water is startling in its ferocity and its drastic change of color. The harbor depth must be the absolute minimum for these intermediate size ships, I seriously doubt the new big super-ships could get in here without scraping their hulls against the muddy bottom. 

The Eclipse will slowly spin completely around within its own length and slowly, methodically slip against the wharf, shoe-horning between three different sized dive-boats moored just a few feet away from us. Within ten minutes we are snug against the moorings. The restaurant at the foot of the pier is blasting Jimmy buffet's "It's Five O'clock Somewhere" so loudly it appears to be coming from the ship's sound system. They must think we have a boat full of Canadians.

The crowds on board last night were far more cordial and relaxed than the first several days when everyone was more reserved in their greetings and cordialities. It appeared most were obviously pleased with their earlier visit in the day to Tortola. Maybe they were simply glad to get back on the ship. 

Most of the people we've met on this cruise have been either Canadians or Brits. There are scatterings of other languages as well but the dominant presence of American passengers is missing from this cruise. The other John from Glasgow and I had a five minute conversation, laughing and joking, having a great time and neither one of us has a clue what we were talking about. Great stuff. Monty Python would have been proud of us.

As I sit here on our balcony, writing on my new Android Tablet, a tropical rain shower drifts across the docks. I can barely see the far side of the anchorage, but the misplaced alcohol inducing music is as obnoxiously loud as ever. We stayed on the boat for the peace and quiet and a relaxing reading and writing day, but we didn't plan on having the balcony door shut to do it. Yes, it was that loud! 

Ilse and I had already decided not to go ashore in St Johns, Antigua, and just take a day leisurely exploring the ship. We were here three years ago, and while the port has probably had extensive remodeling, I doubt the ankle-breaking holes and cracks in the town's sidewalks have seen any improvement. Not a bad place to visit, just different attitudes about what constitutes a paradise. Yes, we saw the church and spent the day walking where our fellow passengers weren't. We'd rather watch the local school children in their uniforms eat their ice-cream as they watch the crowds who seem to be totally unaware of them than visit T-shirt and jewelry stores. 

I finally found the difference between the two St Johns in the Caribbean. I knew there were two, one the island across the channel from St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands, and St John's Antigua, a bit further south, but I didn't know how to distinguish between them. Apparently, it's the apostrophe. The difference between the upside down comma and the plain vanilla version is about two hundred miles or so. We missed the first St Johns, USVI, back years ago when we didn't bother to get off the SS Norway–we overslept– and we simply have not had the opportunity to go back, but we have been to St John's Antigua twice. Maybe we'll get off next time we visit St John's, like, if the music guy blows a fuse or something.

We use the time to tour the ship and hit the fitness center. If we break a leg there it will be our own fault.

I can't help but wonder where the roosters go when the cruise ships hit town.

Next: Barbados and a wonderful reunion -

https://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2024/12/cruise-2024-anniversary-cruise-part-3.html