Christmas Cruise - 2014 - Part Five: Days of Future Past

The International port-to-port cruisers made famous by Hollywood movies, the old sailings with movie stars like Bogart or Bacall from Hong Kong to Oahu or Tokyo, or Liverpool to New York, where tuxedos and at least one white dinner jacket were de rigueur, have been replaced by cruises that circle a small geographic area and return to the port of departure, like Miami, Fort Lauderdale, Port Canaveral, Tampa, or Galveston, Texas. 

These basin type cruises usually require minimal formal dress, and while tuxedos have occasionally been seen, they certainly aren't required. From the cruises we've been on, it appears the women passengers certainly enjoy the opportunity to dress well and love being treated accordingly. Formal dining on today's cruises usually requires gentlemen wear a jacket and tie, but the jacket is no longer the white dinner jacket of days gone by. A sports jacket seems to meet the requirement, though most men wear suits. Most cruises have only one or two formal nights, almost always one called the Captain's night. Unless you choose one of NCL's cruises where the entire fleet has adopted the "Freestyle Dining" model. That is the new business model and it seems to be NCL's salvation.

According to the Economist, more than 40% of first-time cruisers today are under the age of 40. The cruise industry knows exactly what it is doing by tailoring shorter, introductory type cruises to the less demanding tastes that appeal to today's younger cruise passengers. They are the passengers of tomorrow who will eventually book a 7 or 10 day cruise sometime in the future. Hey, wanna climb a rock wall or drink all night to club music at ten dollars a drink? 

The piano lounges are slowly being replaced by sports bars. The younger, first time cruise customer being courted by cruise lines today apparently doesn't care as much about the formality of having the same dining room staff at every meal as it does about eating whenever they want at the open buffet, but of the top five reasons given by bonvoyage.com.uk, the second most popular reason for cruisers aged 18 – 30 was the "money saving aspect of an all inclusive cruise, including food/drink/entertainment." Boy, are they in for a surprise!

For the segment of the industry's customer base that is fast fading into oblivion, us retired, middle class customers - we are called "wrinklies" by the cruise industry – who actually expect melted Gruyère cheese on our French Onion Soup for the price of passage, the days of quality dining included in the base passage, or ticket price, may be over. It isn't the menu that has changed as much as the caliber and quality of the food. What the cruise planners have done is force passengers to spend another $50 to $100 daily for dining, in addition to our passage, to have the taste and quality of food we would normally expect in the dining room.

Specialty restaurants cater to those who don't mind paying above and beyond the price of the cruise. The idea is apparently not only to lower food costs, but to also drive the traditional passenger to the extra cost specialty restaurants. On our ship, the Il Adagio restaurant charged an extra $15 extra per person for Risottos, pastas, and pizza; Le Bistro charged an additional $20 per person for beef fillet, escargot, lobster tails; and the specialty signature steakhouse, Cagney's, hits you with a $30 fee per person. You can sign up in advance for a dining package for $74 per guest for 4-day cruises that allows you to dine in the extra cost restaurants. Basically your passage, or ticket price only covers the break even point for the cruise companies, every penny you spend from the moment you board ship is profit. 

The fare for our four night cruise to the Bahamas was $1468 (Balcony, Norwegian deck), plus $203.92 in "Government" taxes, and $180 for bus fare to and from the Port of Miami, all paid to NCL. Add to that the travel insurance at $86.39 we bought separately and the bill just to get on the ship comes out to $1938.31. For four nights at sea, the cost came out to $484.58 a day for the two of us. Then came the on-board charges, where Ilse and I must be among the most frugal, or cheapest, cruisers of the entire cruise. Our bill, with a $25 credit, was an additional $127.67. It could have been higher, but I balk at $10 gin and tonics served in plastic cups and $6 Budweisers. We did have a couple of glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon at $10 each since we couldn't get to our confiscated wine. Oddly enough, a bottle of Heineken beer was only $5.25 while a Bud Light was $6.00.

The basin cruising industry created by Knut Kloster and Ted Arison in Miami has blossomed far beyond their expectations and has become a world-wide financial powerhouse, a business model that has been molded to fluctuating International markets. Arinson's original company, Carnival, owns Carnival line, Holland America, Princess Cruises, Seabourn, P&O Cruises, Cunard, Costa Cruises, Aida and Iberocruceros, each personalized for a specific segment of the market. Kloster has morphed into Norwegian Cruise Lines and currently owns Norwegian, Oceania, and Regent Seven Seas. NCL was known as "No Cash Left" only fifteen short years ago, but they currently have six ships in the construction pipeline.

NCL shed its high end lines, the Royal Viking and Royal Cruise lines amid a convoluted series of acquisitions and mergers that diluted reputations, and decided to compete with Carnival and Royal Caribbean in the downscale Caribbean market instead. As far as their executives are concerned, the current business model is full speed ahead. According to Cruise Market Watch, "The total world wide cruise industry is estimated at $39.6 billion – a 6.9% increase over 2014 – with 22.2 million annualized passengers carried – a 3.2% increase over 2014." Cruise Lines International Association, Inc., estimates "First-time passenger growth will be driven by the 95 million Millennial generation, based on population size and positive experiences cruising with their parents." 

While the Europeans were slow to understand the uniqueness of the Mediterranean, and even the North Sea, cruises and facilities that once mirrored the original cruises out of Miami have now matured into world class destinations on their own right. The European market has faltered somewhat in the last two years, but the strong U.S. market – 52 % of all cruise passengers are from the US – will soon have fierce competition. 

The Far East market is rapidly being exploited and cruise companies are adding cruise ships to rival the Caribbean and Alaskan cruises. The future star of Royal Caribbean Cruise Line, the 4180 passenger Quantum of the Seas, due in May, 2015, will be permanently based in Shanghai and offer cruises for Chinese passengers to Korea and Japan. She joins the modest China Star, the first Chinese cruise ship introduced only three short years ago. Obviously, neither my wife nor I are in the passenger demographics targeted for these ships. The menus on the Chinese ships will not reflect the offerings found on the Caribbean cruises, and the on-board activities will be designed for that market. Our problem is we are not even in the demographics targeted for Caribbean cruises by today's marketing goals. 

Tell me about flying today. How do you feel about being charged for lunch, or even a bag of peanuts? How about paying for that extra blanket because your legs are freezing? How about leg room? Need a pillow? Are you treated like you were just a few years ago? How do you like the new attitudes of the flight attendants when they tell you, in so many words, to go fly yourself? The same business model has been applied to ship cruising, and if you decide to cruise, be ready to buy your peanuts. Lots of them. You may have cold knees as well. Cruise line executives have failed to see the difference between doing something because you have to and what you would do for fun, and the results just may startlingly similar. I personally feel the same distasteful revulsion for both, and that will keep me from cruising in the future. I won't spend my money cruising: I don't have to. 

 The difference is in the marketing, and Norwegian currently spends over $53 million a year in advertising, selling sandy beaches and tropical nights without telling you about the cost of peanuts. Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines, by the way, spent $82 million on advertising. Perhaps that's why they had two cruise ships at Coco Cay simultaneously.

San Pedro, California, 1989 

 I was sent to San Pedro, California in 1990 to survey the wiring of the M/S Royal Viking Star – which later became the Westward – after she arrived in port from Hawaii. She had been purchased by Norwegian Cruise Lines from Royal Viking and was being upgraded to standardize their computer systems and replace stand-alone cash registers with real-time, point-of-sale terminals. She was an upscale, high-end point to point ship that became a Caribbean basin cruiser. I didn't get to see the much of the passenger, "outside" ship, we ate in the crew dining room and spent our time on board checking cable runs and access panels.

Still, while the feeling of class and style was that is missing in today's mega-ships was apparent everywhere, I do enjoy the new style balcony staterooms and modern amenities of the new ships. And the quietness as well. The new ships are far quieter than the old ships. I would much rather pay for my cruise up front than be nickel and dimed to the point of frustration. Redefinition of the customer base has apparently excluded my wife and I, and all of us in that small, dwindling category of retired, middle income passengers, us "wrinklies" who look for quality and service at a fair price. Those days are long gone. Just like the S/S Norway. 

Nothing but a distant memory.

Moths to a Flame - One Last Try at Cruising - And the inspiration to try again - 

 https://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2021/11/moths-to-flame-cruise-7-part-1.html

Christmas Cruise - 2014 - Part Four: Christmas in Freeport

I leaned on the balcony rail outside our state room in the chilly, overcast first light of morning as we slowly entered the channel into Freeport Harbor. Well, to me it was chilly, compared to the warm sunshine of the last two days. It must have been in the mid 60's, overcast with occasional rain showers just as it was the first time we visited Freeport back in November of 1989. And just like the first time, we decided not to go ashore, spending the day on-board instead.

Freeport - 2014 -  Freeport channel aboard the M/S Norwegian Sky

Ilse and I expected to have the ship to ourselves once again, but far fewer passengers went ashore than when we visited the private island at Great Stirrup Cay two days before. We assumed the stores in Freeport would be closed Christmas day, and apparently so did the majority of passengers as the public areas of the ship were full. Besides, not many wanted to suffer the drizzly weather. The stores and vendors who did open in Freeport were probably disappointed in the low turnout. Many of the Jitney drivers on the dock chatted among themselves waiting for passengers who didn't show up. 

Freeport, 1989, near the Emerald Seas, another basin cruiser pioneer.

Ilse and I took advantage of the of the empty jogging deck – almost all current cruise ships now have one – and walked our three miles before heading up to the exercise room for the stationary bikes. Every lap around the ship found more people sitting on the deck, some leaning on the rail, all glued to their laptops, tablets and smart-phones. 

A Bahamian vendor on shore had an Internet router running with no security. It didn't take long before the free WiFi was discovered and people began logging onto the Internet. Norwegian Cruise Lines offers WiFi service at any time on ship, but at 75 cents a minute, so by the time we finished our eighth lap, the dock side of the ship was beginning to get crowded. The signal was strongest on the dock side closest to the vendors store. We took advantage of the free access later as well, checking e-mail to make sure the world at home hadn't fallen apart. We spent the rest of the day reading and just strolling around the ship.

We weren't curious enough about Freeport to disembark the first time, and we certainly didn't have the spark to do it this time. The 12 mile ride to town is $5 a person if you use one of the jitneys, which today are mostly vans, and about $25 if you ride by yourselves. When taking a jitney, you have to wait until the driver has a full van. The round trip alone pretty much wipes out any savings from shopping in town, but it is too far to walk. Freeport and its beach suburb, Lucaya, form the second largest city in the Bahamas, and how it came about is worth a volume of its own. Freeport became an International tax free port in 1955 and has been a financial cornerstone of the Bahamian economy ever since. 

Jitneys waiting for customers, 2014

They will lose their tax free trade zone status in 2054, but until then, shoppers can take advantage of better prices than found in Nassau. Freeport and the island Grand Bahama has many sites we would like to have visited, but the weather wasn't inviting and we decided to spend Christmas on the boat.

Few vendors, and no restaurants open - Christmas day

The oil storage facility here has benefited from the canceled deep water port planned for Biscayne Bay in Florida, just south of Miami, in the early sixties. Due to action from the Miami Herald's Juanita Green and Lancelot Jones, one of only two Elliot Key residents, President Lyndon Johnson created Biscayne National Monument in 1968 and canceled plans for the eight-mile long deep water channel through pristine Biscayne Bay. Freeport offered the port facilities needed by the deep water oil tankers and containers ships, and has more big ships laying off shore than I've seen anywhere else in the Caribbean. Freeport even has dry-dock facilities.

The Jitneys wait for customers, 1989

If you want a thrill in cruising, stand on the starboard side, the right side, of a large ship as it exits the Freeport Channel and look down into the clear water as you sail past the rather close coral rock shore. I thought the exit from Aruba was tricky with a ninety degree right hand turn as we cleared the channel, but it wasn't as breath taking as simply sailing straight out of Freeport. The port pilots earn their money. Soon after clearing the channel, we changed clothes and headed to the dining room for our last meal of the cruise.

As the gods of cruising seem to pick odd times to smile on us, we met a senior staff officer in the hallway on our way to the dining room, and after the required but awkward courtesies and niceties, I mentioned the exit from Freeport as distinctly awe inspiring. He smiled and said it was indeed narrow, but not dangerous. I asked if the ninety degree exit from Aruba was the most worrisome and he answered, "Oh, no! The port we dislike the most is New York! That is one port the pilots really earn their money."   

If this view departing Freeport doesn't make your pulse race, you have ice in your veins

Once again, we suffered a terrible meal, or half of one. While Ilse's Salmon was done well and quite delicious, I sent my dinner of chicken cordon bleu back. Once again, the Maitre D stopped by our table, and this time picked up the tab for our two glasses of wine. 

This last meal showed another reason we don't like Freestyle dining. No one will ever again hear Dexter Poindexter's classic "Hot Hot Hot" played over the sound system as waiters do a Conga line through the dining room carrying Baked Alaska Flambe on their heads as the sitting comes to a close. In Freestyle dining, the sitting never closes because diners come and go, and the tradition of Baked Alaska as the final day of cruising desert falls by the wayside, another loss in the romance of cruising. This is our sixth cruise, and the only one without the joyous Caribbean cruising tradition, even if the real Flambe had been replaced last time by battery powered LEDs.   

Exiting Freeport Channel

[updated March 3rd, 2017]

Next: Cruising - Days of Future Past 

Christmas Cruise - 2014 - Part Three: The Bahamas

[From Christmas Cruise - 2014 - Part Two http://piddlepaddler.blogspot.com/2015/01/christmas-cruise-2014-what-style-dining.html]

We slept the first night with the balcony door open as we slowly cruised from Miami toward Great Stirrup Cay, listening to the ocean and enjoying the cool salt air. We were on the top floor of the M/S Norwegian Sky, only a few cabins from the bow, as we always reserve a balcony room as high and as far forward as possible. We awoke to the sound of the forward anchor being lowered into the Northwest Providence Channel a few hundred yards off NCL's private island. I walked onto the balcony and watched as two Royal Caribbean Cruise Line ships anchored to the west at the nearby Coco Cay. 

Royal Caribbean Cruise Line ships at nearby Coco Cay (Little Stirrup Cay, Berry Islands, Bahamas)

Nassau -  November, 1989 

Both are islands used as private islands for the enjoyment of the cruise passengers who want to relax on a sandy beach and snorkel or take advantage of other barbecue-type activities along with the other two thousand or so passengers. Or, in RCCL's case with two ships visiting simultaneously, with four thousand sun-deprived passengers waiting to soak in the sun's rays. With three ships at anchor, the two private islands will handle about five or six thousand people for a quiet, private day at the beach. If I were on-line, I'd put a smiley face emoticon, oh, sorry, emoji, here. 

When we visited the NCL island on the S/S Norway in 1992, she lowered her own tenders to ferry passengers to the beach, but today the tenders are based on the island and greet the ship soon after it drops anchor. The first tender headed to the island loaded with boxes of food and drink before the cruise director announced passengers could board the tenders for the trip to the island. 

Ilse and I have been to the island twice, but would rather spend time on board with the ship all to ourselves while the multitudes enjoy the beach and the hot dogs. Being Floridians, the December water is too cold for us anyway. This is when we normally enjoy the buffet as the ship is almost empty. I won't belabor the poor quality of the food we had on this ship and that includes the buffet, but after dumping a cold pizza, I finally had a great pasta lunch custom made while I waited by myself in an almost empty dining room. Ilse, unfortunately, had to go to the other side of the ship to find coffee cream.

Nassau - 2014

We anticipated a ship full of retirees escaping the commercialism or family commitments of Christmas, but there were few couples our age on the ship by themselves. Much to our surprise, this four-day holiday cruise appealed to families, lots of them. There were many people our age on board, but traveling as grandparents with their entire families. Children – 360 of the 2000 passengers were below the age of 21 – drove the average age on this cruise to only 36 years old. It appears families chose this cruise because of the timing of the cruise during the Christmas holidays as much as the freestyle of dining offered by NCL.

Many of the families were Asian, with a large contingent of Chinese passengers from Peking University who held a conference on board during the cruise. Without doubt, this was the most diverse group we've ever sailed with. The kids were no problem, we hardly knew they were on board. During the welcoming stage show in the ship's theater the first night, a bottle of champagne was presented to a couple celebrating their 68th anniversary. Yet another couple had their 53rd, while Ilse and I tied with several others with our 50th anniversary. Freestyle dining certainly appeals to the family cruisers, while the more structured formal style appeals to older passengers traveling as couples or peer groups.

One other aspect of this cruise intrigued me: the casino. For most of the cruise the nicely decorated casino was fairly empty, most of the poker tables had dealers anxiously waiting for players who never showed up. I haven't played poker since Texas Hold' Em became the game of preference, but then again, I'm not really a gambler. The lack of customers was probably because of the overwhelming number of families on board, or perhaps even the new unpopular electronic slot machines. I talked with several people who actually miss pulling the handle on the old mechanical slot machines, but the biggest complaint was the complexity of the new slot machines. Too many windows and too many gimmicks. Less and less chance to win, even if it was only two cherries. Most slot players seem to yearn for the old style machines, but, cest la vie, damn the consumer, full speed ahead.   

M/S Emerald Seas, the other main component of the birth of modern cruising, berthed in front of the M/S Sunward II

We quietly slipped into the night leaving Great Stirrup Cay behind us, and slowly trundled along to Nassau. We arrived just at daybreak on Christmas Eve and were greeted by two ships already at berth. That would mean somewhere around 4000 extra people walking around town.

Ilse and I took our time eating breakfast and watching the crowd disembark. We liked Nassau the last time we were here, and we were anxious to see if we would enjoy it as much this time. We immediately headed for the area beyond Bay Street and the shoppers.  After walking three miles – Ilse took her pedometer - we headed back to the boat, but not until we stopped by the new Straw Market and bought a new hat.

We were astonished at how high prices were in Nassau. They've always been geared to the tourist trade, but there were few bargains to be had in town. Few shoppers carried bags back to the boat. Items for sale on the ship were far more reasonable than in Nassau.

Nassau was gearing up for the annual Junkanoo street parade and Bay Street was already set up with bleachers for the Boxing Day - the day after Christmas - celebration. The cruise ships no longer leave Nassau late at night, so evening events and side excursions to the casino at Cable Beach for late shows weren't on this trip's agenda. Many of the passengers spent the day at Atlantis swimming with the dolphins or one of the many other side excursions. The perfect weather could have been ordered by the Chamber of Commerce, but was beginning to change as we headed back north toward Freeport.

I could rant about the quality of the food on this cruise even more, believe me, it got worse, but first, I need to explain on our last cruise, with Princess Cruises, I was so impressed with the quality of the dining room food I bought the coffee table book Courses – A Culinary Journey offered during the galley tour. I should donate it to Norwegian Cruise Lines, they could use it.

The shows were really great, with talented dancers and singers performing some really outstanding productions. On-board shows have become an art form of their own and are a highlight of cruising today. We really enjoyed when they integrated fifty or so of the passenger's children into the Christmas special.

 

Next stop; Christmas in Freeport

Christmas Cruise - 2014 - Part Two: What Style, Dining?

Watching Miami disappear behind us as we cleared Government Cut in the softening evening light was a strange feeling. I barely recognize my hometown. The changes have been massive since I retired some seventeen years ago and moved to Florida's west coast. I walked downtown Miami for many years carrying a tool-case, servicing IBM terminals and keypunches in an era long gone. The Centrust building used to be on the south side of the skyscrapers that dominated downtown Miami. Today, it is on the north side of town as Brickell and the entire area south of the Miami River have grown into a new metropolis that gives my hometown a whole new, unfamiliar profile. 

A Chalks seaplane takes off alongside the M/S Sunward II in Miami, our first cruise, 1989

Gone also are the twin-engine seaplanes from Chalk's that used to take off alongside the departing cruise ships. The parade of departing ships has changed as well, dominated today by cruise ships that dwarf the cruise ships of twenty-five years ago.

One of the new behemoths seen from afar.

Miami is still one of my favorite cities, and without doubt one of the most unique in the United States. I don't miss the traffic, though, and the parallel MacArthur Causeway headed into South Beach was a sobering reminder of weekday urban America. 

We watched the Florida coastline fade into the peach-colored distance from the top deck, then headed down to the Palace Dining room for our first dinner using the freestyle approach. The pleasant hostess led us to a table and our server approached us as we were seated. The dining experience on the first night is usually laid back, informal, as many passengers haven't received their luggage by dinner time, and we were no exception. Ilse's suitcase arrived shortly before we shoved off, but mine was, ah, diverted by the x-ray machine and set aside for physical examination. I went to dinner wearing the same bluejeans and walking shoes I wore all day, while Ilse freshened up and changed into more appropriate clothes. 

Everything seemed normal, the server was a sweet Filipino girl named Irish, and the menu had the items we've come to expect, so we ordered the French onion soup with Gruyère cheese with great expectations. We were startled to have our soup bowls placed in front of us with a small piece of dark bread floating in the soup with no trace of cheese. Closer examination proved there weren't any onions, either, only broth. I went to the Maitre D' and asked him to join us at our table. I pointed out the soup had a serious problem, quite expecting him to be surprised, quite possibly upset at this travesty that could possibly threaten Norwegian Cruise Lines reputation of fine dining. Well, our opinion of it at any rate. The Maitre D' reached across my plate, took a fork from my table setting and flipped the bread over, exposing a white splotch on the center of the bread.

"See!", He said, "There's the cheese!"

I looked at the piece of bread more closely. The splotch of melted cheese was about the size of a tablespoon. Astonished, I waited for another comment, but he was quite finished.

"Things certainly have changed, haven't they?" I asked as I sat back down at the table. Irish seemed to be far more embarrassed than our Maitre D' and quickly removed the soup. We ordered a Caesar salad as a substitute and were once again stunned by the lack of quality. Two croûtons, each about the size of an end piece of French bread, hard as a rock, among lettuce that was way past being fresh. Ilse and I sat staring at each other across the table. What has cruising come to, we thought.

For the first time ever on a cruise ship, I sent a dinner back. It tasted like a prepackaged piece of a poor quality meat "product" I once sampled at a shopper's warehouse. I actually sent two dinners back this cruise and can honestly say I only ate one meal I thoroughly enjoyed the entire cruise, and that was at lunch the third day when I had a custom-made pasta dish. 

Apparently our Maitre D' had a change of heart as he returned and offered us a bottle of wine to make up for our displeasure. We accepted the wine but it didn't make our Braised Beef and spaetzle any more palatable. We both had indigestion well into the night, even after taking Pepto-Bismol, the first time we have ever used it even though we always take it for emergencies. To make us more at ease, our Maitre D' offered us reservations with the same server for the next evening's seating, something not usually done with Freestyle dining. Irish turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip and convinced us traditional dining is something we much prefer to the unassigned format of Freestyle cruising. 

Exactly how I felt after dinner...

The disadvantage of the shorter cruises for us is we miss most of what we enjoy about cruising; sitting on our balcony enjoying the vast expanse of open ocean. Most of the cruising in the Bahamas is done at night. The distances between Bahamian islands are so short the ship's speed rarely exceeds ten or twelve knots, about half of its full cruising speed, and the schedules are set so the ship is in port during the day. Cruise ships usually are out of home port by dusk, headed for their first destination, and ours will be Great Stirrup Cay, an island in the Berry Islands used for picnicking and snorkeling. 

After slowly toodling along, we will arrive at Great Stirrup Cay, only 150 miles away, by daybreak. After a day at the private island, we'll cast off at dusk to be in Nassau by sunrise the following day. Again there is no need to rush, it's only a 55 mile trip to Nassau. The ship quietly loafs along at a computer-controlled seven knots or so, saving fuel and arriving in time to pick up the mandatory harbor pilot right at day break. We'll be out of Nassau at sunset for the overnight trundle to Freeport at Grand Bahama. This was the only part of the cruise the ship got even close to half speed. as we closed the 130 miles to Freeport. Freeport back to Miami is only 110 miles.

Next: The Bahamas

Christmas Cruise - 2014 - Part One: Smuggler's Blues

I stepped off my bathroom scale and stared at the digital readout. It had to be wrong, so I tried again. It was exactly the same weight as it was five days before, the morning we left on our four-day Caribbean cruise. The scale must be broken. My wife tried it and was astonished to see her weight, obviously quite different from mine, was also the same as before we left on our holiday cruise. We were both within ounces of what we weighed before embarking on a four-day holiday cruise to the Bahamas. Unheard of; cruising and not gaining weight! 

My wife and I decided to do a nostalgic holiday cruise exactly twenty-five years after our first, memorable first cruise on board the MS Sunward II. The cruise was to be exactly the same itinerary as our original venture, but this would be aboard the on the MS Norwegian Sky, also on Norwegian Cruise Line. We anticipated a memorable cruise revisiting fond memories. We also expected to gain weight, something we've done every cruise we've taken, but we didn't gain a pound this time because, quite frankly, for the first cruise ever, the food just wasn't very good. In fact, it was awful!

We give names to our cruises, such as the cruise aboard the Star Princess when we silently, surreptitiously, sailed out of San Juan at midnight while the adjacent Carnival ship was in the midst of a lively, raucous departure party. We called that one the "Geritol" cruise. When we last sailed on NCL aboard the Seaward, they ran out of sugar packets as we left Cozumel headed back to Miami with a full day at sea ahead of us. We called that one the "Sugar" cruise. We'll call this one the "French Onion Soup" cruise. The French Onion Soup served as the precursor to our first evening meal in the Palace Dining Room was a real eye opener. It set the tone for the rest of the cruise. 

Departing Miami on the M/S Sunward II - November 1989

All cruise ships we've sailed on had a buffet lunch for arriving passengers as they boarded the ship. Boarding goes on for several hours and rooms are rarely ready for occupancy until later in the day, so it's easier just to grab a quick lunch and sit on the deck with your carry-on luggage as the ship fills up. The lunch buffet on the Sky reminded me more of my high school cafeteria than of a cruise ship. 

Departing Miami on the M/S Norwegian Sky - December 2014

This arrival buffet was limited to French fries, hot dogs, rolls, and a pressed meat patty of some kind. There were a few unappetizing pieces of melon scattered around one tray and I bravely picked the best looking pieces. I let the tasteless pressed meat patty that passed for a hamburger/meatloaf go without comment. I didn't eat all of it, or the stale bun that came with it, even though I was hungry. I did eat the melon. The French fries were only luke-warm and limp, bland and unappetizing. They were nothing, however, compared to what waited for us in the main dining room later for our first dinner. I devote the next chapter to that eye-opening experience. To say cruising has changed since we first started is an understatement. Concierge has been renamed to Customer Services, and that in itself explains where the cruise business is going.

It was a very memorable cruise, but not for the right reasons. I could judge the overall quality of the food served this entire cruise by describing my lunch on the second day, which was a cold tuna salad sandwich. The roll was quite cold and very stale, but the tuna salad wasn't bad. So, I scraped the tuna off and ate it with a fork. If I judge the cruise by the tuna salad, it really wasn't too bad, but if I judge it by the roll, I'd say I wasted my $1938.31.

I knew the MS Norwegian Sky was an older ship, she is sixteen years old, built in 1999, and sailed for four years as the Pride of Aloha during the 2000's before becoming the prime hauler for the Nassau/Freeport, Stirrup Cay itinerary of three and four day cruises for Norwegian Cruise Lines sailing from Miami, but we were unprepared for rust on the balcony or on railings around the ship. 

The cabin was clean, and the complimentary bar was well stocked, but at their unreasonable prices it wouldn't be touched for the duration of the cruise. However, under the new concept of cheap cruising, all shampoo and sink and shower soap is now in mounted dispensers, with no conditioner, and a message asking passengers to help with the environment by possibly reusing their towels! Reusing their towels was voluntary, of course.

The other side of Dodge Island at the Port of Miami

The mandatory lifeboat drill was no different. It was the first lifeboat drill we've attended where we were asked not to bring life jackets. We thought, "Well, this should go quickly!" Another assumption that proved to be wrong. After half an hour of shoving and shuffling passengers – tallest to the rear, move over please, no, he's taller, please step behind her, please don't block the short ones, move to the back, everyone get closer together please, closer, closer! – we heard an announcement on the ship's PA system that the ship had just had a minor fire down by the incinerator. Nothing to worry about, though, the Captain said. Most of the sweaty, agitated passengers simply rolled their eyes at the fire announcement, while some, quite baffled, wondered whether or not they should stay outside and prepare to abandon ship. It would have been easier to do then as we were still moored to the dock. To think adrenaline-fired passengers are going to line up according to height when trying to get off a sinking ship boggles the mind.  Today's cruising has lost contact with reality.  

We have friends we have been trying to get on cruise ships for years, I'm afraid they would have abandoned ship before we even cast off. 

But then again, they probably wouldn't have traveled with us if they had known we were smugglers. 

We checked two suitcases on boarding, Ilse's smaller one and mine, which had a box of wine wrapped in plastic placed in the bottom. It's against the rules to bring your own alcohol or wine on board ship on Norwegian Cruise Lines. We were allowed to bring one bottle of wine per person on board when embarked on the M/S Crown Princess only two years earlier. The “Corkage Fee” was $18 on that cruise, so either bring your own corkscrew as many do, 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. But this was Norwegian Cruise Lines with different rules.

Getting caught was only fair as we were warned by the brochure beforehand. We tried it anyway but knew something was up when Ilse's suitcase was delivered to the room shortly after the life boat drill, but not mine. Not a good sign as they were turned in together. 

My suitcase was standing in front of our cabin door when we returned from dinner later in the evening, with a piece of red tape labeled "Liquor" wrapped around the bottom. On the bed was a letter that stated if I wanted to reclaim my confiscated liquor, I could go to a specific location at a specified time to pick it up. 

So, with letter in hand, we went to retrieve our $16 dollar box of Cabernet Sauvignon at the designated time. The confused steward who took my letter looked through no less than five bins of confiscated alcohol looking for our wine. He had never seen wine in a box before. We told him it comes in handy when traveling, but all we got was a blank stare. 

When he finally retrieved our wine, he informed us we could have it to take to our room if we paid the $45 corking fee, or we could wait to claim it when we got off the ship at the end of the cruise. We bid adieu to our wine until Friday when would carry it home.

Our infamous, and confiscated, $16 box of wine

We may rename this cruise Smuggler's Blues cruise.

Next:  A new dining experience: dining on the Norwegian Sky 

West Lake - January 2nd,1987

I've put several of my first articles in blog format. One of my first, and definitely one of my favorites, is about my daughter, Monica, and a canoe trip we took on January 2nd, 1987. She was 15. 

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Monica and I arrived at the West Lake boat ramp in the Everglades National Park over an hour later than planned. We were late getting up having spent the day before, New Year's Day, eating and watching football. Even though we packed my pickup truck the night before, we didn't get to the park office until well after sunrise. 

My daughter and I usually headed south to Everglades National Park every Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, while many of our friends crowded to Dadeland Mall for the annual shopping frenzy, but not this year. The day after New Year's was our first opportunity to canoe the park and camp overnight. We hoped we would have the vast National Park to ourselves once again.

Loading the canoe at West Lake Boat Ramp

The park ranger at the main gate advised us our destination, the primitive campsite at Alligator Creek, might be awash and probably not usable. He called the park office to check and they advised us not to plan on camping due to recent incredibly high tides. They had not issued any permits for over a week because lunar and solar alignment had caused serious problems as far north as the Carolina coast. The high tides had receded in the last several days however, and the rainy weather that spoiled everyone's Orange Bowl parade had finally dissipated. Bad weather wasn't due again until Sunday, two days away, so it was go now, or wait until my next time off in April. I convinced the ranger we could arrive at the campsite and have time to return to the facility at West Lake if indeed the site proved "uncampable." Everyone liked that idea and we were given the permit with the ominous warning, "WARNED OF HIGH WATER AT CAMPSITE" printed across the space for destination.

We wanted calm water to cross the first three open miles of water at West Lake in our fully loaded canoe. The first mile was no problem and we enjoyed the quiet lake taking time to just adjust to our cramped canoe. The calm air lasted until we were exposed in the center of the lake. The first ominous "cat's paws", the innocuous and slight changes in water color caused by the first minute ripples, the first gentle hint of wind, were beginning to scatter around us from the north. At first I was glad they weren't coming out of the east as I have no great love for paddling into the wind. It only took fifteen minutes and the waves were rolling against us, almost as high as our gunwale. We timed our strokes so the crest of the waves arrived as we had the port side as high as we could manage without rolling the canoe. For once I wished the wind were head on instead of dead abeam, or broadside. Luckily, the wind didn't get worse, and the waves held at less than white caps. Monica started facetiously singing about it being a pirate's life for her as we worked toward the far side of the lake.

Entering Long Lake

As we took our first breather and coasted up to the white plastic PVC pipe used to mark the trail at the end of West Lake, we noticed the old wooden marker was still in place. We had canoed West Lake before and knew the marker was the beginning of a short, twisty creek through the mangroves that leads to Long Lake. We usually turned around here on our day trips, this would be our first paddle all the way to the end of the trail

Heading into the shade of the mangrove canopy meant break out the industrial strength bug repellent. This is one routine we have down pat. We always wear long sleeve shirts, light cotton ones as much for the sun as for the bugs. We cover everything plastic we ever want to use again, from plastic sun-glass lenses to watch crystals, because the insect repellent will destroy most plastics. Then we spray each other down, buddy style. It doesn't pay to have your buddy upset with you or he or she may leave insidious gaps in your chemical armor. Today, however we are pleased by the comparative lack of mosquitoes. We have been here in the summertime, called the "off season", and paid dearly for it. Not just with mosquitoes but also horse flies and what we used to call deer flies. I'm sure they have a different name down here. Probably alligator flies.

We took it easy through the first creek and I checked the time. It was 10:35 a.m. We had shoved off shortly after 9:00 o'clock and had worked hard the last hour. We paddled the creek slowly, waiting for the hordes of insects we knew were waiting for us. We broke out into the northwest corner of Long Lake and searched down the lake with our binoculars for the next marker. The marker sits ominously in the middle of the next section of the trail. We picked up the pace again and watched a lone egret off against the western shore of the lake. The wind didn't effect the narrower, more protected lake as much as the first one, and we paddled without the constant fear of being swamped. We were between being quiet for the sake of seeing wildlife and the need to be as quick as possible with a full canoe.

We were startled by a Great Blue Heron that made great squawks as it jumped from the overhanging foliage just a few feet from our port bow as we passed to the right of the first mangrove island. We saw no more wildlife for the next hour as we worked our way down an appropriately named lake. The mangrove islands make it a little more interesting than the first lake. The National Park Service has done a well thought out job and there is no need to take any maps at all as long as you follow the trail markers. Anyone could canoe this trail without any serious detours into never-never land. They might complain about the endless mangroves, perhaps, and maybe about the lack of convenience stores for beer or soft-drinks. They would most certainly complain about their bladders. There is no solid ground on this 8 and a 1/2 mile trail and endurance here is a necessity. We carried bottled water as we stay away from soft drinks especially in the sun.

Red Mangroves at Long Lake

As we approached the end of Long Lake we were startled by the sudden and dramatic change of water color; It turned red. Not clay red or just reddish, but blood red. Monica suggested it was probably from 'gator feeding. The color was from decaying red mangrove leaves. It is startling, none the less. Oddly enough, it was the only place on the trail that was that color. By the time we had paddled on another five minutes, the opaque water again turned a brownish color.

After a short, wide creek came a sharp left that skirted the edge of a wide pond that is actually Long Lake. The turn takes you into a mangrove canopy that is so thick the overhead foliage does not belie the presence of the shallow, wandering trail. If it weren't for an occasional tree limb obviously cut with a saw you would think you had made a wrong turn at the last pond. We startled a small green heron into flight. It flew down the creek with nowhere else to go but along the creek.

We took another breather, this time a little more seriously, and in the silence we're soon startled by voices coming from further down the trail. As we emerged out into the next lake, called the Lungs, we surprised two men fishing from a blue canoe tied to the trail marker. They appeared as startled as we were. We exchanged small talk. While we were talking one caught a salt water catfish. The other held up a stringer of what appeared to be good sized drum. When we told them we were going to Alligator Creek campsite they told us it was muddy, but usable. I was relieved to hear we would be able to pitch our tent but I was still concerned about conditions.

  
Monica made another crack about a pirate's life for her and we started across the last long stretch of open water. There are three markers in the Lungs, one at each end to mark the creeks, and one where the trail bends to the west about halfway across the lake. The wind was at our backs for the first time since we started. We talked about the return trip and decided this would be the hardest part of the return trip if the wind didn't clock around on us.

We started the next creek surprised by how much wider it was than the earlier ones. The foliage changed, too. Buttonwoods and hardwoods covered the banks as we realized this was more than just mangroves. We startled flocks of tri-color herons and egrets of all sizes as we worked slowly into the narrowing creek. As the noisy herons settled down it got quieter and quieter. Soon, not a sound could be heard. Not even our paddles softly pushing us further and further into the overhang made any sound. After five minutes or so, we stopped paddling altogether just to marvel at the stillness. We glided silently along the creek, neither of us paddling. My ears began to ring as I looked around the creek. Monica sat motionless. Our creek had become an environment neither of us expected.

There are times in your life when you forget what quiet is. Really quiet, absolute stillness, when your visual senses become so heightened you think you've lost your hearing. When you experience it again you are amazed by the impact of silence, a feeling of almost deafness. Our incredible stillness exploded when a large alligator crashed through the creek overgrowth inches from our bow and crashed heavily into the water almost hitting the side of canoe. The spray from the splash got Monica more wet than me. She sucked her breath and pulled her paddle tightly across her chest. We sat motionless for a few moments as the entire experience slowly evaporated back to the silence that allowed us to hear our own heartbeats.

Monica finally exhaled, still clutching her paddle across her chest. We watched the trail of bubbles that marked the alligator's path through the brown, murky water. After a few moments we paddled on, neither saying a word. I noticed Monica wasn't taking a full bite with her paddle. The gator was at the bottom, below us somewhere, waiting for us to leave. We have startled alligators completely out of the water with our paddles before, and seeing the size of this one, I didn't blame her. I hit one in the back with a paddle accidentally while pushing through a slough at Noble Hammock and scared it as badly as it did us when it jumped high out of the water alongside our canoe. Monica had been sitting in the middle of the canoe between my brother and me and got to see the white underbelly as the gator flopped back into the water.

This was our first 'gator on the trip but not our last. We paddled another hundred yards and scared three more sunning gators off the creek bank. They dove into the water one after another as if choreographed. It was like someone throwing refrigerators in the water one after another. I have been around alligators since I caught my first one in a shrimp net when I was twelve. I don't fear them but I certainly don't get careless either. They can be very dangerous, and can cause serious damage or injury even accidentally. I hadn't envisioned a startled gator crashing into the canoe, or worse yet, in it. I was curious about the size of these guys, though. Usually we see smaller ones in greater numbers than the big ones, but not here. We have seen only fairly big alligators. None of the four we scared off the bank were under nine or ten feet. We thought we had been observant before, but now we were really observant! 

The famous Noble Hammock trip with Dean & Monica
 Taking a break after accidentally hitting an alligator. 1979

The largest of the three arrogantly surfaced not six feet off Monica's left shoulder. Monica started to raise her paddle and the 'gator slipped quickly back beneath the surface. I told her he was looking for a peanut butter sandwich. I'm sure that as remote as this seems, the trail is very popular and I'm sure it had been fed before. Sort of an odd comparison to the bears out in the western parks I suppose, but the effect of free food can cause problems with any creature.

We start around the very next bend, and because we are tense and nervous, make a big mistake. We run up on one of the submerged logs that are plentiful in this one section of the creek. Stranded! We were stuck with our canoe bow wedged tightly in a submerged dead tree. We paddled backwards, at first normally, then almost frantically, but to no avail. Without speaking we stopped trying to free ourselves. We sat quietly watching the tidal flow. Watching the tidal flow for telltale bubbles. We finally spoke to each other and decided to backstroke hard on the left side while we both leaned to the stern of the canoe. One! Two! Three! and we were free. Traveling quickly backwards, we shot into the overgrowth on the creek bank behind us. After a few quick references to my canoeing ability, Monica leaned forward and started her Mark Twain act and called out the few logs and limbs we encountered as we slowly continued paddling down the trail. We scared one more alligator off the bank before we finally broke into a wide pond.

All the breaks we took before were simply for sore arms and tired backs. This break ranks in the Guinness Book of Records for total relief. We were both exhausted, as much from the tension as from the physical paddling. I checked my watch. It was almost one o'clock. We had paddled almost four hours. If we couldn't stay at the campsite, we would have to be back at West Lake ramp by sunset at 5:45 pm.  I checked my chart and was positive we were close to the campsite. We decided to press on.

As we started across the pond, I noticed a blotch of pink in a buttonwood tree at the far end. I talked Monica into a short detour to take a look. I managed several photos before the most beautifully plumaged bird I have ever seen in the wild flew off giving the appropriate noisy protests. It was a Roseate Spoonbill in full courting colors. It circled the pond several times, and as we left the pond, returned to the branch it rested on before we disturbed it. They are beautifully plumaged birds with an incredibly ironic twist; Nature gave them heads that would make a buzzard wince.

We pass a small island and start into the second half of Alligator creek. It is narrower than the first part but still wide enough for two canoes. We come across another large 'gator on the bank but this one doesn't move. We watch it at eye level as we glide past not six feet away. The lower branches of the overgrowth have eelgrass hanging from them. The water had been recently very high here as the eelgrass hanging at eye level had only started to dry out. We pass a clearing on the north bank. Camp site? No, no markers. We passed the remnants of an old wooden bridge, left over from the cotton days back at the turn of the century. It is at the end of the hiking trail that follows the old logging road.

Alligator Creek Campsite

The camp site lays just a little west. It is not a primitive campsite, it is a wilderness campsite. There is no chickee. There is no platform. You can see Florida Bay from the landing. You can also see the alligator lying not ten feet from the landing.

 

A ten foot alligator quietly watches from across the creek. Its head is directly above the bow of the canoe.

 
This campsite has a Macho Factor of 10. I was under the impression Alligator Creek was a primitive campsite with a chickee, a chickee being nothing more than a raised platform with a thatched, palm frond roof cover, it isn't; it is a wide spot in the mud.

Obviously, there is no decision to be made. We will be back at West Lake as soon as possible. We will walk out carrying the canoe, if necessary. We may even walk out without it at all! Monica states firmly that she does not like being watched while she eats. We had to land the canoe. I had to stand up and walk around. We landed the canoe and cautiously stepped out into the wet grey marl that looks amazingly like someone backed up a dump truck and unloaded several tons of modeler's clay. Everything was wet. There was nothing to use as firewood. The twelve footer had slowly turned itself for a better view of the newcomers to what is without a doubt, his domain. We knew we were being watched as we checked out what is really a great campsite.

We checked the time. It was twenty minutes after one pm. We gave ourselves ten minutes to stretch and eat. The eating didn't take long as Monica never took her eyes off our host. The thought of sleeping in the wet mud with no fire, separated from the inhabitants of Alligator Creek by only the thickness of tent fabric was not particularly appealing. I could have stayed home and watched Penn State and the University of Miami go at it in the Fiesta Bowl. It was time to go.

Monica knew the return trip would not be fun. We have been canoeing for several years and know when to switch sides, strokes, and even when to swap insults. She starts singing jokingly but we are soon saving our energy for the hard part. We are tired but not yet sore. The spoonbill watched cautiously, but since we didn't come close this time, decided not to fly off. I was sternly warned of logs in the second half of the creek and we avoided any problems. We scared only one gator off the bank during the return trip.

 We met two young men in a rented empty, aluminum canoe going toward the campsite just before we broke out into the Lungs. They were German tourists and naively wore only shorts. From what we could see, they had nothing with them except one bottle of water. They asked us politely if we had seen any alligators as they hadn't seen any. Not one! They were unimpressed with our experiences, so we smiled, wished them the best and pressed on. They probably paddled all the way to Flamingo without seeing anything. I didn't know what their plans were but ours included paddling hard for the next four hours.

Our worst fears were confirmed when we broke out into the Lungs. We were dead on the wind. It wasn't quite a mile but we couldn't pause even slightly as the wind was causing us more grief than expected. The blessed relief of the next creek, the overgrown one, was an opportunity to catch our breath. The fishermen were gone. We had our second wind as we started Long Lake, No jokes about the water color. No jokes about how the lake got it's name. Just plain, hard work. The wind was off our starboard quarter and while not helping any, it wasn't as bad as the Lungs. We pulled up into the lee of one of the small mangrove islands and broke out the drinking water. Our planned ten minute stay lasted only a couple and we were again under way. Monica had settled into the repetitious state similar to long distance swimming. Stroke after stroke after stroke. As we passed the last marker leading to the last creek before West Lake, we sighed with relief. Just through the crooked path was West Lake and finally, the ramp. Just three more miles to the ramp! We had been paddling hard for over two and a half hours, but the knowledge of only one last challenge, I believe the motivational books call it, brought back the humor and the feeling of accomplishment.

West Lake 

We headed into the lake with the wind from the north and still very brisk. We stayed closer to the north shore and avoided the problem we suffered when caught in the middle of the lake earlier in the day. Pain had set in long, long ago, but if we knew if we kept up a constant pace we would be back at the ramp well before dark. We knew we didn't want to be in the canoe in the dark. We were in the lake for an hour and ten minutes.

Making the final right turn into the short, narrow channel to the boat ramp was quiet satisfaction for both of us. After several hard strokes, we silently coasted toward a group of tourists standing on the modern concrete dock, intently watching a medium size alligator floating in the water at the foot of the boat ramp.  

He too, is looking for a handout. The startled gator quickly disappeared and the surprised tourists watched us in awe as we tied up and unloaded at the dock.

I am immensely proud of my daughter. She hasn't complained once. Well, other than commenting on my canoeing skills. Nor has she quit. Monica put in more than a full day's work, and she still smiles, helping pack away the gear and tie the canoe down on the truck. By 5:00pm we were headed down the highway toward the campground at Flamingo. The last time we camped there we suffered one of Florida's coldest, windy April nights to watch Halley's comet at 4:00 a.m. But that is a different story.

The Coleman stove and lantern worked just fine. The tent was pitched and no sooner was dinner finished and the gear washed than we were both in the tent. Dry and somewhat warmer, we tuned a portable radio to the station that would carry the National Championship football game. Could Vinny Testaverde and the Hurricanes do it again? It didn't matter. By halftime we were both sound asleep.

© 1996, 2014 George Mindling