The Cruise to Aruba - Oranjestad, Aruba

The approach to Oranjestad, Aruba

We slept with the balcony door open and the air conditioning off. Really nice to wake up to nothing but cool, ocean air. I dressed and headed up top to watch the sunrise and the approach to Aruba, and was fortunate to catch one of those golden sunrises you see in travel brochures just as we approached the city of Oranjestad, Aruba.

The narrowness of the channel is obvious:  The Crown Princess is berthed at Aruba.

I was dumbfounded by the narrowness of the channel as we approached the dock and the angle of the approach to it. This pilot was going to earn his money or we were going to look like the Costa Concordia. The Paardenbaai Channel is only 270 meters wide, about 885 feet. In other words, the ship couldn't possibly turn around in the channel because the Crown Princess, at 953 feet, is considerably longer the channel is wide! And the channel has a bend in the middle to boot! Fascinated, I watched as the Crown Princess confidently sailed right up to the wharf where the ship's thrusters took over and pushed us up gently against the bumpers. If you weren't watching, you would have no idea we had arrived and docked. By 7:57am, we were secured at Cruise Terminal “C” in Oranjestad.

The welcome terminal in Oranjestad, Aruba

 

As soon as the announcement was made about disembarking, we went to breakfast. We used the forward gang-plank after eating at the open buffet, and after checking out of the ship with our room cards, walked to the welcome center that everyone passes through to access the buses and taxis waiting to hustle people anywhere they want to go. The sign hanging over the exit to the buses says, “Welcome to Aruba, One Happy Island.” I thought to myself, “We'll soon see!”

As best we can tell, the sign was right. Again, the people we met were warm, friendly and easy going. Not everyone we met in town spoke English, but there was no problem as someone spoke the language or its close approximation in just about every store we stopped. Doesn't matter, smiles and a little courtesy do wonders here. Our first serious stop was the Kong Hing Supermercado grocery store to pick up water and munchies to sustain us as we wandered around side streets and local shops before heading back to the main vendor areas along the waterfront. After fantasy stops at Diesel and other European outlets, and one pharmacy, we slowly headed back toward the port.

There are lots of typical bars that appeal to the carefully maintained image of Caribbean abandon and lack of sobriety that appeals to the sunshine and alcohol deprived vacationers from up north. These places must look better in the dark. We stopped at one for about three minutes before moving on to one that was closer to the water and further from the greasy kitchen odors. Pigeons wandered around the floor of the restaurant we finally selected and yellow finches freely flew through the outside seating area, landing to serenade patrons from the power lines strung for the lights. The Heineken beer I had was three dollars cheaper than the Budweiser I had on the ship back on day one.

 There is one side trip here I would like to do, so perhaps someday we'll return just to take the submarine trip, if nothing else. Atlantis submarines offers underwater tours in a real, Coast Guard approved submarine just off shore from Oranjestad. Kind of a real glass bottomed boat tour, well, glass sided boat tour anyway. We saw the submarine as it was being towed into position to accept guests and it appeared to be a well done operation. Just something to think about for next time.

Next: Docked next to the Freewinds 

The Cruise to Aruba - On to Aruba

From Part Five - http://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2012/03/cruise-to-aruba-willemstad-city.html

Punda, the heart of the old city is gaily lighted with reds, blues, and greens as dusk settles over Willemstad, Curaçao. We ate another marvelous dinner on the ship and decided to just relax on the ship and not go back into town.  We later stood on the top deck taking in one last view of the pretty city before going to the ship's theater and watching another one of the great shows, the ship's company version of “Motor City.”  This time the dancers had a flat, level stage to perform on! I still don't see how they do it in heavy seas!

We headed back up top after the show to catch our last glimpse of Willemstad as we cast off and headed toward our morning arrival in near-by Aruba. This departure was quite different from our last port departure on a Princess ship when we left San Juan on the Star Princess some eight years before. On that trip, we were adjacent to a Carnival Cruise lines ship that blared party music almost non-stop. The Star Princess was comatose by comparison. When we finally slid out of our berth late that night, it was if the Star Princess was trying to slip out of a party without being noticed. While the revelers next door waved goodbye, we slipped silently and morosely out into the dark harbor. We nick-named that cruise the “Geritol Cruise.”

This one was different. We think it was the work of an energetic young woman we met back on day one when I stopped her on a staircase and asked some inane question about the ship, like, where could I get writing material. She cheerfully helped as much as possible, and before being swept away by the throngs that surrounded her. It turned out to be Lisa Ball, the ship's cruise director. The “company” part of the cruise was really enjoyable because of her. 

 To me there are two main parts to cruising: the “natural” part, ie, ocean, sky, weather, the enjoyment that comes without any outside influence, and the “company” part, which includes music, dancing, dining, and entertainment, the part that is supplied or created by the ship. On the Star Princess, the “natural” part was outstanding, the “company” part left a lot to be desired. Not so on the Crown Princess, we enjoyed all parts of the cruise, and even really didn't mind the rocking and rolling of the heavy seas. Part of the experience.

The good news was we enjoyed the “company” part of the cruise this time as well, and the departure from Willemstad was a showcase for Lisa Ball's efforts. A huge banner was hung across the top railings of the pool deck that proclaimed “The Ultimate Deck Party,” which usually is a warning for poor, loud music, and confused drinkers who aimlessly wander around looking for something that vaguely looks like a party. This one was a model for how to throw a deck party properly. 

When Lisa took the microphone on the deck below us (we stayed one deck above the pool deck) and enthusiastically welcomed everyone to the world's greatest deck party, we realized the group of young, good looking people behind her were the ship's dancers who had changed into casual clothes. Lisa started the dancing by encouraging everyone around her to follow her lead. Soon the whole side of the pool she was on was dancing in rhythm, clapping their hands and really getting into the spirit of the party. As more and more passengers joined in the dancing, more of the ship's dancers faded away, and soon, the whole pool deck was a mass of dancing passengers. 

Great stuff, lead by the assistant cruise staff who had stepped in as lead dancers for the entire deck. By the time they got to the conga line, by now with a live band, there were well over several hundred passengers enjoying themselves. A great wrap up to a great day. My wife and I ended up in a piano bar listening to really good jazz and a great vocalist, the very things we missed on our last trip. You couldn't tell we were under way as we quietly sailed northward at 11 knots with trailing wind and a following sea. It is only 100 miles or so to Aruba.  No rush, we would be there by 8:00am.

Both parts of the cruise were in harmony.

Next: Aruba 

The Cruise to Aruba - Willemstad - The City

From Part Five - http://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2012/03/trip-to-aruba-willemstad-curacao.html

Ah, A writing pad! One of those old-fashioned lined ones from days of yore, you know, high school! A kind, but somewhat bewildered saleslady with a limited knowledge of English, dug out an old white pad from a stack of paper products near the cash register in a Willemstad dime store. She looked at me as if I were trying to pull a fast one, but, took my FL 2.90, about $1.70, without question and cautiously closed the cash register drawer. 

Now, to catch up. I actually started scribbling while we were having one of our rare soft drinks in a sidewalk cafe, oddly enough across the street from a McDonald’s. We had crossed the Queen Emma pontoon bridge over into Punda, the original section of the city, and spent several hours poking into shops and stores, generally looking around acting like tourists when we decided to take a rest break. We were sitting in the shade, chatting and watching the crowd of tourists that shuffled aimlessly along, not like us, of course.  We were joking about the McDonalds across the street when a police car rushed up, quickly parked and blocked the street. Two uniformed officers got out and headed toward the restaurant. We joked, “Man, they must be hungry!” but it turned out to be a business call. 

They met an agitated, concerned young woman wearing the traditional McDonald's management-type uniform on the sidewalk outside the store. We watched idly as they all disappeared inside. Soon, they all reappeared on the sidewalk with three young, clean cut, muscular looking young white men in tow. The tallest of the three had on a red T-shirt with “Guantanamo Fire Department” emblazoned across the back. He was obviously not happy, taking photos of both police officers, their car, the license plates, the manager, and anything else he thought would intimidate the police officers who simply ignored him.  The two police officers addressed the other two men who stood with their arms folded across their chests.  We could only imagine the confrontation inside the restaurant.

We finished our drinks and headed back toward the ship, and as we crossed the street we heard one of the police officers say rather firmly, “No one is going anywhere until the U.S. consul arrives!” A good time to speak German.

We asked a woman we stopped on the street if, by chance, she knew where the Numismatic Museum is located, the one attraction we all wanted to visit.  That is the coin and money museum run by the Bank of the Netherlands.  The lady walked us a complete block out of her way, saying hello to friends as she went, even stopping to caress a baby of a friend, just to point to the building several blocks away. We walked right past it coming in and didn't see the sign. We thanked her and slowly headed in that direction, but got sidetracked once again, this time by the huge open air vegetable market we could see down a side street. By the time we reached where the Queen Emma bridge should be, we realize we have missed the museum once again. Oh well, something to see next time!

Waiting on the Queen Emma pontoon bridge.

The Queen Emma bridge wasn't there. It was completely on the other side of St. Anna Bay. We joined the throngs patiently waiting for a tug boat to tow an ocean-going freighter slowly up the bay, taking photos as we waited for the floating pontoon bridge to chug across the river and reattach to the landing. The bridge is self powered, and within minutes of the freighter passing, the bridge reopened and hordes of pedestrians crossed the bridge in both directions.

We finally bought our goodies at the shops we knew to have the lowest prices, we never buy going in to town, only coming out after we know prices, and we picked up a bottle of blue Curaçao liqueur for a friend. Of course we bought the prerequisite trinkets and mementos, stuff that always ends up in a junk drawer somewhere, but, hey, that's one reason we're here. 

Time to head for the ship and another great dinner.

 

Next: On to Aruba 

The Cruise to Aruba - Willemstad, Curaçao

From Part 4 - http://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2012/03/cruise-to-aruba-day-two.html

My first impression of Curaçao was from twelve miles away. I wondered why the island was brown. I thought Caribbean islands were supposed to be green. Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands, was green even when closer inspection proved it to be far more arid than it first appeared from the deck of the Star Princess. The entrance to Tortola by cruise ship, by the way, is one of the prettiest we've seen. Its only scenic rival in my book is the entrance into San Juan, Puerto Rico, in the afternoon when the sun shines on El Morro castle. Still, the hills of northern Curaçao just didn't fit my preconceived notion of what they were supposed to look like. With oil refineries dominating the landscape, it just didn't rank up there with the picturesque ports of call in the travel brochures.

 

 Once we were in the lee of the island, a little after 12:00 noon, the trip turned into a cruiser's dream. Very little wind and the sea was calm. Passengers flocked to the top decks to catch their first glimpse of Curaçao, still several miles away. Curaçao, as it turns out, has less than 22 inches of rain annually, mostly during their three-month rainy season, October through December, so it doesn't rank very high on the lush, jungle habitat list. Actually, it isn't even on the list. The little island nation also lies outside the “Hurricane Belt,” but still occasionally catches the effects of nearby storms every few years or so. No hurricanes have actually struck Curaçao since the National Weather Center started monitoring the storms. As a result, the wind blown north eastern side of the island is really quite barren. Willemstad, the Capitol where we dock, is on the west side, the leeward side, of the island, and looks more like what we anticipated.

First impressions count, and we were impressed. Willemstad is a paradox, though, unique in more than one way. First, let me say we will come back. The city of Willemstad is very pretty and we want to see more of the island, but I have never seen so many refineries so close to a major town or tourist attraction. Clean, flame burning towers and vents surround the northern and eastern parts of town. The oil business obviously contributes to the economy of the island and its standard of living. Bustling, tree-lined, four-lane boulevards are obvious from the deck of the ship. Tourism and cocoanuts are obviously not the sustaining life force here. Tourism helps, I'm sure, but there is room for only one huge cruise ship at a time and I'm sure that's the way they would prefer to keep it. These people are busy working. While it is still a cruise ship port-of-call, the difference from most others on the cruise ship circuit is apparent well before you disembark.

Punda, old town of Willemstad, and the Queen Emma pontoon bridge, in operation since 1888

Disembarking is an art form we have mastered. When the ship's P.A. System announces it is clear to disembark, we go to lunch. By the time we are finished with our leisurely meal, we calmly and quietly disembark without any fan fare or crowds. Cool! The ship's photographers however, are persistent, and they won't let you off the dock without staged “Pirate Pictures” or whatever the theme is for the current port. For Curaçao it is the pirate gig. We try to decline, but the determined, almost belligerent photographers aren't about to let any potential dollar slip by. Damn it, we dressed up like idiots just for you! Be grateful and stand still while we take your friggin' photo while we pretend to cut your throat!

We are soon standing on the dock in the shade of the massive ship, looking back in awe at the 15^th deck. That is way, way up there and to think the spray was blowing in the balcony door that high!

Time to see the city that looks like it is the wrong continent. Willemstad could easily be in Holland. That's only natural as the city reflects its Dutch heritage, even though the name Curaçao is derived from Portuguese. The proper pronunciation is with a soft “c,” almost like a “z”, for the last syllable. As in Coorazow. No, not sew, sow, like in a female pig. Let's see, hmm, consider the Portuguese islands in the Atlantic we know as the Azores. The Portuguese call them the Açores. The pronunciation is the same, ah, you know what, screw it.

We walk past the de rigueur tents and tables set up just outside the official customs zone of the dock, checking souvenirs and prices as we go. The vendors show the same practiced tolerance found in any port, but they smile easily. And they are actually polite. We have been treated otherwise, believe me.

Strange native costumes greet visitors to Curaçao, or rather, Curaçao greets visitor's strange native costumes...

Next - The City of Willemstad

The Cruise to Aruba - Day Two

From part 3 - http://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2012/03/cruise-to-aruba-day-one.html

It's really aggravating for a writer not to have anything to write with. It's far worse than having a blank piece of paper and nothing to write. Writer's block passes, and unfortunately for me, so does the thought I often want to capture. I'm out of paper, scribbling this in the margins of the ship's newsletter before I wander off and forget to capture the moment.

We are currently southbound out of the Princess Cays at 21 knots in fair seas. It is 5:30 pm in the afternoon, about an hour to sunset, and we have the Atlantic Ocean to ourselves. There is a huge rain storm off on the far horizon, otherwise the weather is beautiful. Sitting outside on the balcony is a pleasure we always enjoy. There is nothing else like it. We are perhaps 150 feet above the bow spray, maybe higher. The sea is Navy Blue, the dark, pure blue that only is found in the deep ocean. Low hanging clouds begin to pass by us, almost as close above us as the water is below us. And I don't have anything to write with.

Ah, the concierge! Are they on deck seven? Or six? The sweet British girl at the desk took pity on me and handed me all the blank white paper from her printer in-tray. I will forever be indebted to the pretty girl who probably thought I was a great novelist or reporter in dire straits. Well, maybe not, but at least she smiled like she understood. I got back to the room in time to change for dinner. It will be dark by the time we pass the coast of Cuba, but I'll be back, watching, trying to remember what I wanted to write about.

Nothing like Gale Force 8 winds to get your attention, even at 1:45am in the morning. I knew they were Gale Force 8 winds because the ship's television said so. I turned on the Bridge report which gives constant updates about the ship when the blowing winds and ocean spray forced us to close our balcony door. The blowing sheets of water surprised me, we were on the 15^th deck! I thought the old girl had shuddered and protested as much as she could Saturday evening coming across the Gulf Stream, but I was wrong. Sleep was out of the question as we jerked back and forth constantly. The television showed winds across the bow at 43.1 knots, around 50 mph, with seas listed as seven feet. Ship's speed displayed as 22.8 knots. We were rockin' and rollin' out here in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. Actually, we were literally around the corner from Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, some 100 or so miles away as we are just east of Navassa Island.  We were in the Windward Passage and I really don''t have any argument with the name of the place.  My wife was uncomfortable, but not physically ill. I'm sure many of the over 3000 passengers, and perhaps many of the 1,200 crew members were far worse than just uncomfortable.

By 4:20am, the winds had increased to Gale Force 9 and the outside wind noise was seriously intruding on the happy, steel drum cruise music piped through the television. Oddly enough, I was hungry.

We covered the 253 miles from Princess cays in 12 hours and 20 minutes. The wind hadn't abated in the slightest, and laying in bed was by far the easiest way to cope with the constant, erratic motion of the humble Crown Princess.  Humble may not be the correct word here.  She's chugging along at a solid 22 knots so we will arrive in Willemstad by 1:00 pm tomorrow afternoon come Hell or high water.  So to speak.  Shuddering and shaking perhaps, but she is unslowed by the elements.  The schedule will be kept.

The gap between our joy of cruising and our cost of cruising is closing more rapidly than we expected. We already dropped any plans for an Alaska cruise after seeing friend's photos of several different Alaskan cruises, most of the ports of call, and simply comparing costs. Not really our cup of tea. We now have serious reservations about our planned Panama canal trip early next year as well.

Perhaps we need to just bring more money and pay for the privilege of being separated from the mass of passengers, but then, the costs skyrocket. When I say the cost of cruising, I don't mean just the monetary expenditures of the cruise itself.  Getting on the boat is already an expensive outlay.  We fortunately do not have to fly or pay airfare to get to a cruise port.  We are conveniently located between Tampa, Ft. Lauderdale, and Miami, three of the busiest cruise ports in the U.S. and can drive to any of them if we choose. We prefer the bus, where charges are just less than two hundred dollars for the both of us to Miami and back.  And of course there's the extra four hundred dollars to kennel the dogs for just a week. It does add up.

To make matters worse, it is à la carte once you board the cruise ship and ship's prices have pretty much gone bonkers.  Once on-board, you are a captive audience!  At six dollars a Budweiser, don't expect any breaks on-board. They don't do anything for the passengers except the basic dining and an ice cream on the pool deck. If you want sprinkles on your ice cream, have your room key ready, the sprinkles are extra.

The basic dining is still exceptional, but we wonder how much longer it will last. Higher caliber restaurants are already available above and beyond the common dining rooms, as outstanding as they are, specifically appealing to the cruisers who prefer not to mingle even with the common diners. Those dining rooms carry a $25 surcharge per person per meal. 

The shows are still free, but I wouldn't be surprised to be asked to show my room card sometime in the future. They probably haven't thought of it yet. So, to be jammed in with thousands of people has to have its rewards and those rewards are fewer and fewer than before.  We are reconsidering how we will spend our vacation money.  Basically, we do not care for big boat cruising.  I guarantee you I will never sail on the Oasis of the Seas or any ship that carries 5000 passengers.

We head back to our balcony as soon as the seas and winds subside, separated from the rest of the ship. Peace and serenity once again settle over as we sit on our small, semi-enclosed balcony. We watch as white caps rip off the top of the huge waves and roll away from us instead of hitting us broadside. The wind has subsided to 30 knots and is now off our port stern. We pass Haiti on our port side, the mountains visible through the distant haze. I can only understand portions of the captain's message over the PA system, the garbled voice says the water depth in the channel is 1600 feet. We now turn more southeasterly and head into deep blue waters of the Caribbean, our final heading to Willemstad.

The old girl has settled down. Once again I fall for the charms of cruising, paradoxically in love with the incredible beauty found only at sea. The huge, slowly rolling waves firmly rise up and dominate my senses as nothing else, and gently, slowly, the massive mountains of water disappear into the long trough of spray-strewn, almost placid swells. Technically, these are swells I suppose, but I still like the wave definition. These waves are massive world-travelers. They are the dominators of the ocean. How far have they traveled, where will they eventually crash ashore? Are they from the coast of Africa? Will they crash in front of tourists in Cancun, or slam ashore in unseen by anyone but seagulls and pelicans? The period has increased to twelve seconds, double that of yesterday's waves. The period is the time between crests, and the time accentuates the massive size of each wave. The ship's log finally shows seas as “Rough,” twelve feet or so. They look higher to me, but then I'm not driving. The Crown Princess is in her element here. And if I want to see more of it, I have no choice but to go cruising.

Most of my fellow passengers don't have a clue. They are all over the pool decks, eating, sun-bathing, and generally taking a break from the cold, northern winter. They are enjoying their vacations exactly as advertised. My wife and I are enjoying the cruise as well, just in our own way. The open sea, glistening silver under the sun, deep blue otherwise is simply beautiful.

Pool is closed...

As we sail further and further south, the size of the waves increases and soon the sea is a mass of twenty foot behemoths tipped with white spray that cause our Captain to throttle back somewhat to minimize the astonishing resistance they present. They try to impede our our voyage, to prevent the incursion into their world.  The shuddering is back, but this time it is Mother Ocean causing the protest. The shuddering and and slamming is not as consistent as the night before, but when it comes, it is far more severe. Our huge vessel cedes to the power of the Ocean only slightly, probably to keep everyone in the hot-tubs from banging their knees. Actually, all swimming pools and hot tubs are closed. The water sloshing out of the main pool reaches the overhead of the sun deck just above it. I have it on video tape. We press on toward our shopping rendezvous in Willemstad. We are now just under a day away. 

We awake Tuesday morning to milder seas. The period is down to six seconds and the Bridge report say we now have rough seas. What were they yesterday, I wonder? We opened the balcony door and wiped the salt spray off the deck chairs while the Captain announced we were some thirty miles from Willemstad. He said the sea and wind had subsided and the remainder of the approach would be smooth. He also commented we were some thirty minutes behind schedule, even though we had been running at close to full speed for the entire 44 hours. My wife joked our clothes had done more dancing in the closet than we had on the dance floor.

We ate breakfast in the dining room for the first time, far more civilized than acting like foragers who hadn't yet discovered fire.

Next: Willemstad and Curacao

The Cruise to Aruba - Day One

From Part 2 - http://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2012/03/cruise-to-aruba-boarding.html

We joined the ranks of the forgetful fifties and the stress free sixties on our first day at sea: we had to go to the concierge to retrieve names and dates of our last Princess cruise. Not only couldn't we remember the name of the ship, we couldn't agree when we took our last cruise with Princess Cruises. We were directed by the apologetic concierge to go up a deck, find the Wheel House Bar, then locate the Princess Club director, a young officer who looked at me in disbelief when I explained my dilemma. I thought to myself, “Just wait, you'll understand soon enough.”  His computer system has a different data base from the ship's main system, and he soon had the data at his finger tips.

Not only did we get the date wrong - it was 2004 - but we weren't even close with the name of the ship. It was the Star Princess, and we had cruised to San Juan, St. Thomas once again, and finally visited Tortola.  We remembered the ports but not the ship. So much for my razor sharp memory. 

Day One - At the Princess Cay in Lucaya

Quite a lot about cruising has changed in eight short years. If you forget to return a ship's library book, for example, the charge today is $55. Who knows what it will be in another eight years. 

Also gone is the ship's drugstore. Gone with it is the cheap liquor that you could buy there and take to your room. On our 1992 S.S. Norway cruise, I bought a 1.75 liter bottle of Drambuie for me and a 1.75 liter bottle of Amaretto for my wife, for less than either bottle alone would have cost me stateside. We proceeded to finish off both bottles before the end of the seven day cruise and managed to run up a three hundred dollar bar bill to boot. We missed St. Johns that trip. They swear the boat stopped there but you couldn't prove it by us.  Those days are over, in more ways than one. First my body couldn't take it, and secondly, neither could my wallet. A built-in safety net I suppose.

We spent our first, almost summer like day anchored off the private island called the Princess Cays. Private is the operative word here. If you don't mind being shuttled to and from the island in small tenders along with 3000 other passengers, well, maybe you can call it private. We stayed on board as we did on the last three cruises and enjoyed having the ship to ourselves. We found this time we were not alone as many of the “veteran” cruisers also elected to remain on board and enjoy the peace and quiet. Many of the first timers, and those who don't normally have access to beaches, enjoyed the day swimming and eating barbecue, hot dogs and hamburgers, enjoying a sandy beach party. 

By noon, we were sitting peacefully on our balcony, hundreds of feet above the beautiful clear blue water off Eluthera, reading and writing in the warm sunshine. We watched the constant flow of shuttles to and from the beach with detached interest. Still worth the price of cruising, all the changes not withstanding.

While sitting on the aforementioned balcony, sipping the red wine we brought aboard ourselves and snacking on the five or six delicious cheeses we carried back from the lunch buffet, we were distracted by sporadic hammering and an occasional burst from a power tool from somewhere below us. The noise was from a work crew, strapped to the ship in safety harnesses, working on a lifeboat some six or seven stories below us.

The cruise industry has always taken great care of the safety equipment, but since the incredibly stupid tragedy of the Costa Concordia, I'm sure efforts to prevent any future tragedies have intensified. It was bad enough to happen to the Italian ship, but if that happened to a U.S. Cruise company, or one that departed from a U.S. Port, it would cripple the industry faster than rising fuel prices.

You are allowed to bring one bottle of wine per person on board when you initially embark, but the “Corkage Fee” is a stunning $18. So, either bring your own corkscrew, or do as we have learned and simply pack a wine box, carefully wrapped in leak-proof plastic so as not to spoil your vacation in case of dropped luggage. Easy to open, and easy to lock back up in the suitcase away from the maid when you are out of the room. The wine box actually exceeds the one bottle limit but no one checks the volume. Anything to help alleviate the pain.

We always book as high as we can afford, and as far forward as possible. We have heard arguments from people who prefer to stay as close to the center of the ship as possible to minimize the effect of ship rolling, but with the modern stabilizers and computer control, we have found engine vibration to be a bigger pain in the enjoyment than the ship's motion. The higher, the quieter, and for more reasons than just being as far from the power plants as possible.

One of the reasons we like being as high as possible is because of a guy we will always call “Pickle Dick.” Luckily for us, Pickle Dick's cabin was below us when we met him on the last cruise. He loved to stand on his balcony and harass a young, newly-wed couple obviously trying to enjoy a romantic honeymoon. They were unfortunately just below him, and even worse, their balcony protruded further out than those above them. When ever the love birds would set up an intimate dinner with flowers and wine, Pickle Dick would show up, usually stark-ass naked, and start a loud, obnoxious scene, pretending to be a “friendly neighbor.” We never saw the young couple after Pickle Dick's second obnoxious intrusion, but that didn't stop our tattooed, long-haired ambassador of southern hospitality from standing on his tip-toes, peering over the rail trying to see where they were.

So, if you have a balcony stateroom and decide to enjoy your beautiful, unobstructed view of the ocean, remember to look up before standing out there bare-ass.







Next: Day Two at Sea 

Cruise to Aruba - Boarding

From part one : http://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2012/03/crown-princess-to-aruba.html

Boarding the huge ship was smoothly done, but I can't say the same for just getting to the ship to start with. With the convoluted routing and redirects through the construction that dominated the port and the various security control points as we entered Port Everglades, I was really glad I left the driving to someone else. We used a charter-bus to make the 180 mile trip from Port Charlotte to Ft. Lauderdale so I wouldn't have to figure out the parking nonsense in the congested port area. We had friends of ours with us from Germany who speak very little English, and I simply didn't need the added confusion factor or a failure to communicate.

Bernd and Agnes, our friends from Germany

There were seven, huge, state-of-the-art cruise ships being boarded simultaneously in one of the busiest cruise ports in the United States. To say the port was jammed with traffic would be an understatement. The bus trip was easy enough for us, but our driver had my heartfelt sympathy as guard after guard made him move the huge bus after we finally got next to the correct ship in the terminal area. Two guards actually stood in front of the bus at one time, each pointing for him to go in a different direction. Whoever outranked whom finally won, and we again did another five point turn in the confines of a parking garage! Our driver finally got fed up once he was satisfied he was close enough to the entrance and just turned off the ignition. Hordes of porters pushing empty luggage carts descended on the undersides of the bus, and once they started unloading, it was obvious no one was going to move the bus. This driver earned his tip, even with his momentary lapse on the highway. This was his third shift in two days. Welcome to the new America.

Princess had us print everything from the Internet beforehand, so all we had to do was follow our yellow color through the terminal to our designated seating area. We never saw our luggage again, but it was also pre-tagged and color coded just like we were, so I wasn't worried. It had always shown up in front of our stateroom late in the evening on previous cruises, so I expected the same service here. 

After an hour and a half wait, we signed in with the efficient, courteous staff, they were actually quite funny, and after getting our plastic, embossed gold room keys, which are also your boarding cards, we were on our way up the forward gangplank. Ten minutes later we were checking out our stateroom, ready for a tour of the ship. I react badly when being herded and avoid places like Disney World like the plague, but Princess has this down to an art form and the whole procedure was quite painless.

Much of the chatter on deck was French, German, even Russian, with only a few passengers speaking English. The English speaking passengers were the only ones to benefit from the new, expanded safety briefing, however, which had formerly been known as the Parade of New Shoes, or technically, the Life Boat Drill. Over 800 of us listened intently to the Captain's 22 minute safety address over the Public Address speakers in the ship's theater, the “A” muster station, I couldn't help but wonder if we could all get out of the theater in time in case of a real emergency.

The first real shock of new-age cruising came shortly after the lifeboat drill. We went up to the forward pool deck bar and ordered drinks. I simply ordered a Budweiser. Apparently a brand hard to find among the many better known foreign labels. The smiling young woman presented me with the charge slip, they only accept your pre-approved credit card, and watched blandly as I read it several times. No matter how I turned it around, it still came out to six dollars and four cents, gratuity included. Wow, my first and only beer! The grand old days of cruising are over! My wife pointed out it was a sixteen ounce can, rather than the standard twelve ounce size. Doesn't matter, it was a six dollar can of Budweiser! This would be a cruise of abstinence. Well, within reason, of course. Remind me to check the futures market on beer. It may be a better investment than oil.

With heavy, overcast skies and winds steady at over thirty knots out of the northeast, most of the passengers standing outside on the railing had their arms folded tightly in front of them with their shoulders scrunched up to their ears as we crossed out of the protected anchorage and into the open ocean. Most looked like they wished they still had on their northern, cold weather jackets. 

As we watched the pilot disembark well outside the protection of the channel and head back toward Ft. Lauderdale, we wondered just how rough it has to be to get these people worried.  

The Crown Princess weighs over 112,000 tons, and that was probably before they loaded us, the fuel, the food, and who knows how many cases of Budweiser.  Actually, the net registered tonnage is only 83, 977 tons, so the gross tonnage of 113, 561 tons is when we cast off from Port Everglades loaded to the gills.  In that bloated condition she draws 28 feet of water.  In other words, you couldn't put her in your swimming pool unless your pool was 29 feet deep.  At 950 feet long, (that's over three football fields, I think, or over three soccer fields, or something else that makes you say, “Wow, that's long!”) she still shuddered and shook in the 30 knot crosswinds like my Golden Retriever when I give him a bath. 

The in-room television said we had “moderate seas” at four to seven feet, with an across-the-deck wind of 30 knots. We were constantly shaking. Of the five cruises we've done, this one was unique. We had lulled and waited all night in 20 foot seas not far off Palm Beach on our very first cruise many years ago and thought the slow, rolling wind blown waves were as bad as it got, but that ship, the old Sunward II hadn't protested like this one. The constant, quick jerks back and forth that occasionally caused quick side-steps and spilled drinks were new to us.But then we went to dinner and all was well with the world! Our decision to cruise once again was affirmed. Excellent food and outstanding service! I'll even wear a tie if I have to. Personally, the casual dining at one of the three buffets is great for a quick lunch, especially when everyone in your party is off doing their own thing, but the dining room is one reason we cruise.  The food is really good at the buffets, and table service is excellent there as well, but it is not personal.  When you eat in the dining room, you get to meet people like Antonio, our waiter and Alphonse, an assistant Maitre D' who cater to your every whim.  We only wore jackets twice, which to us was a nice change from the Mickey D atmosphere that surrounds the deck area that many of the passengers seem to enjoy.  Love great food!  Love great service!

But, times they are a'changing.  A guided tour of the ship from the bridge to the engine room is still available, but now instead of gratis or free of charge, it costs a staggering $150.00!  Even airline executives must look with envy at the cruise ship industry's ability to gouge their customers. 

Five of the seven cruise ships boarding passengers at Port Everglades, Florida.
The Oasis of the Seas is on the far right

Next: Day One to Aruba

M/S Crown Princess to Aruba

The old lady is still fun to sail. Showing her age with an occasional loose carpet strip, a few unobtrusive paint blisters, and generally in need of a carpet deep cleaning, the M/S Crown Princess still showed her stuff as she shuddered and twitched her way out of the Bar Cut Channel in Ft. Lauderdale into heavy seas and near gale-force winds. She's a seasoned veteran at six years old, and not to destined to be at the top of the Princess list much longer.

She will be surpassed by the new M/S Royal Princess in June, 2013, which will carry 3,600 passengers, 500 more than were on-board as we cast off from Pier Two at 4:00pm on a recent Saturday afternoon. If you think 3,600 passengers is impressive, remember Royal Caribbean's Oasis of the Seas already carries 5000 passengers spread between 18 decks. That behemoth was berthed near us at Ft Lauderdale, also prepping for a seven day excursion into the Caribbean. “Massive” was the only word I could think of as I looked at the Oasis from the fantail pool deck of the M/S Crown Princess. 

Astonishing to think they unload 5000 people, beginning at 7:00 am, clean the ship, load a new group of 5000 glassy-eyed vacationers, refuel, restock and stand ready to cast off by 4:30 pm. All in a day's work! I was already impressed with Princess's streamlined boarding processes which got 3224 of us on-board with as little stress and trepidation I have ever encountered boarding a cruise ship. This was our fifth cruise, and by far the one of the easiest to board. I found out later the Crown Princess also takes on over two hundred tons of food and supplies every Saturday during that same, short window of time. Amazing, simply amazing. 

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. The trip to Ft. Lauderdale from Port Charlotte on Florida's west coast had it's own moments, including when the bus driver's head slowly slumped to his right shoulder while we were doing 65 miles an hour on a long, straight, boring section of I-75 in the middle of the Everglades known as Alligator Alley. My wife and I were luckily sitting in the seats directly behind him, and I leaned over and gently tapped his shoulder until his head snapped up in surprise. He gave me a glance that showed more fear than gratefulness, but I wasn't about to condemn him. I simply smiled and pretended to be looking for alligators along side the adjacent canal and the event was never mentioned. He made a point to shake my hand when we got off the bus.

Next: Cast off - Underway on the Princess