I get seasick in the shower. I'm terrified of water and I don't know how to swim. When my husband told me he'd been invited to be a guest lecturer on a cruise and that I was invited to go along, I was horrified!
Endless discussions failed to convince me to share his enthusiasm. Nevertheless, I soon found myself in the middle of the Pacific en route to Hawaii, surrounded by tranquil passengers sipping the drink of the day and dancing before dinner while I was devouring Dramamine and clutching the banisters. They yawned through the life-
boat drill while I scribbled notes. They dined on caviar while I nibbled soda crackers, and no one seemed at all concerned that there was no land in sight for days.
That was 13 years ago and the promised “just this one time” has gradually become a way of life for us. We've sailed off into the sunset 104 times and we're leaving again next week. We're on board as guests, in a passenger cabin with every corresponding amenity. The only difference between us and everyone else is that my husband gives three one-hour lectures in his area of expertise.
My sea legs are well developed, I know port from starboard, that it's a cabin not a room, that ships have boats but boats do not have ships and I've become reasonably relaxed about going ashore via “tender” despite a couple of horrific experiences. I smile tolerantly at novices walking the deck the “wrong way” (the water should be on your right). I've been tossed and turned in the Tasmanian Sea and wretched waters elsewhere, and survived a harrowing few hours in the Atlantic without engines, headed toward the eye of a hurricane.
We've been on ships with as few as 100 and as many as 2000 fellow travelers, and have visited nearly every European port in the Baltic and the Mediterranean. We've been through the Suez and Panama Canals; visited Australia, New Zealand, Asia, South America, Hawaii, Mexico and the Caribbean. We've been on several “legs” of the 100-day World Cruise as well as on a few “maiden voyages”, which is another tale entirely. We've dined blissfully at a table for two and had dinner companions of every kind; the charming, the eccentric, the bizarre. And we've met fascinating people from all corners of the world.
Cruising has become enormously popular worldwide in recent years and the industry is growing and changing rapidly as more people opt for the idea of unpacking once and floating off to see the world via the water. Thirteen years ago the average age we encountered was “older” and there were typically only a handful of non-Americans on board. A few months ago we were on a cruise with 26 nationalities represented and there are always younger passengers; “boomers”.
Each cruise line caters to a specific clientele and different itineraries attract different types of passengers. A “crossing” (also known as a repositioning) offers a lot of days at sea and a myriad of activities you can choose or refuse interspersed with a few stops along the way. Other itineraries are so port-intensive you wake up in a different city every morning while still others offer a balance of both; seasoned cruisers know which appeal to them. They also know which cabins to request if stormy seas are anticipated. Some of the larger, newer ships offer so much to do on board it can almost seem the destination itself. Whatever the itinerary, wherever you sleep, you'll find a chocolate on your pillow every night.
People always want to know which cruise has been our favorite, whether I really enjoy this, how I pack, or how I spend my leisure time. Aside from revisiting our favorite ports, (there's a tiny taverna on an isle in Greece we've visited so often the owner puts a “reserved” sign on our favorite table when the ship arrives), I spend a lot of time writing about some of the things that have happened while at sea, which have run the gamut from the marvelous to the mind-boggling. I'll be sharing some of this in upcoming issues of Generation Boomer along with some ideas on how to choose a cruise and “other stuff” we've learned.