Pandemic cruising … again

Is it crazy to cruise during a pandemic? Maybe, but for me our planned December cruise now officially booked is not our first pandemic cruise. There was also our theme cruise in March 2020. We were on a ship that was literally one of the last ones let back into the United States before cruising just stopped.

Thankfully, there were no cases of covid-19 on our ship during that cruise, although we later learned there was one unrelated death of a passenger. The ship berthed next to us was not so lucky.

These were early days during the pandemic. The virus was not particularly widespread at the time, even in Florida, although Florida was worse than most states, as it is now. Also, it was harder to catch as there was no delta variant. This was before masking became a thing. No one had masks or thought to wear one. We did have an epidemiologist on board, who gave us a little lecture. We took his advice and hung out away from the gates and between concourses while we waited six hours or so for our flight from Fort Lauderdale. We did bring lots of Clorox wipes. A month or two later we’d realize it was kind of pointless. It made our surfaces more sanitary, but it wasn’t understood then that covid-19 was principally an airborne disease.

So naturally we’re planning another cruise, again on Holland America, and again out of Fort Lauderdale. Just as the last cruise was risky, this one will be too. But to my way of thinking, it’s going to be less risky. Because Florida governor Ron DeSantis be damned, you have to be vaccinated to go on this cruise. You have to present a vaccination certificates and a negative covid-19 test no more than three days old.

On the ship, in the more closely confined spaces like elevators, you will have to mask up, and we’ll likely be masked up anyhow when not in our room or outside on the Lido deck or in a deck chair on the promenade. It’s likely we’ll be masked during our excursions too, assuming the countries will let us in.

The tide has turned with this new cruise, however. We weren’t let in to Grand Turk just on the fear one of us might have covid-19. This time our biggest risk probably comes from being around residents of the islands we’ll be visiting. Much of the rest of the world doesn’t have the opportunity to get vaccinated like we have in the United States. Some of the islands we will be visiting, like Barbados, likely will have most of its population unvaccinated. It’s unlikely they will acquire the disease from any of us. It’s hardly risk free to cruise in this pandemic age. But the risk does seem more manageable than on our last cruise.

Still, Fort Lauderdale is in Florida, and the state is arguably at the epicenter of the latest wave here in the United States. It didn’t have to be, but they have a sociopath for a governor. It would be nice if we could grab a similar cruise from a non-Florida port, but it’s not an option. The only real option is to keep holing down like we’ve been doing for eighteen months or so.

But even staying at home is not completely safe. It’s still risky (probably riskier than ever) to go shopping, even with a mask on. My wife volunteers, and one of her work places is the local emergency room. She is gloved, double-masked and even wears goggles but as there are usually at least a couple of covid patients in the waiting room, she’s already at elevated risk. She’s willing to accept the risk, and by inference so am I as I sleep next to her. Due to covid-19, she keeps expecting the hospital to end her volunteering. It happened before, but at least now they know what they are dealing with and how to keep reasonably safe.

The anti-vaxxers seem to either be unconcerned about their risk or place their faith in quack cures. A lot of them are now dead as a result. There’s a difference though between foolish risks and manageable risks. If I come down with covid-19, while I could die, it’s exceedingly unlikely because I’m vaccinated. I’m likely to avoid the hospital too. It’s likely I’ll be able to get a booster shot before our December cruise too.

We’ll be required to wear masks on the plane, but since we’re flying to Florida, extra precautions are warranted. I hope to find some N95 masks before then, or it I can’t, double mask and wear them on the plane and while in Florida. The cruise company is likely to know who we were near while on the ship should someone contract covid-19. And we took out cruise insurance to cut our losses if we can’t go.

I accept the risk of cruising in the covid-19 age because cruise companies aren’t reckless like Governor DeSantis and we can take reasonable precautions, but also because I don’t want to wholly give up travel because of the pandemic. Travel helps makes life feel worth living.

I’m tired of being housebound. We’ll use our brains and trust to science to keep these risks low and manageable, while realizing we can’t make them go away entirely. With covid-19 no longer a mystery, avoiding it is possible if you are careful. Most of us can live life and be reasonably safe, just so long as you do it mindfully and keep a clear head and follow the recommended protocols.

Or so I’m hoping. We’ll see how it goes.

Cruising in the midst of a coronavirus panic and economic upheaval

Aboard the M.S. Nieuw Amsterdam, off Haiti, March 9, 2020

Markets are plunging and authorities are pleading for people not to get on cruise ships. So of course we are on a cruise ship. We merrily set sail on Saturday along with close to a dozen other cruise ships out of Fort Lauderdale. We’re on a Holland America ship again, but the difference this time is that rather than being one of the youngest passengers on the ship we are now one of the oldest.

Holland America passengers skews toward 60+, but it’s really more 70+, which is why we felt so young on our last cruise. The difference in this cruise is that it’s a themed cruise, a JoCo cruise to be specific. Having invested over $6000 in this cruise, we weren’t going to be deterred by the threat of coronavirus. We might have had we not paid all this money into it and had some way of getting it back. So armed with plenty of saniwipes in our carry on, we took our chances and boarded a JetBlue flight last Friday from Hartford to Fort Lauderdale.

There are hundreds of cruises still going on across the globe and last I checked only two had cases of coronavirus, both of the Princess Cruise Line brand. There were two Princess cruises going out of Fort Lauderdale with us. The two thousand or so of us passenger onboard the Nieuw Amsterdam may look odd. My wife is hardly the only woman around here with purple hair. In fact, it’s more normal to see oddly colored hair on this cruise than not.

This cruise is full of weird people and oddballs, the sorts of whom we used to meet at science fiction conventions thirty years ago when that was still a thing. Now there is plenty of evidence that the remainders of this tribe take this annual JoCo cruise instead. It’s aligned around a programmer turned nerdy song writer Jonathan Colton. There are plenty of polyamorous people on this ship, along with all sorts of other other odd people, but I’m betting they are much more a safe sex type than the general population at large. They are at least 90% white, average age probably somewhere around 35, the sorts that like to dress in costumes, decorate their cabin doors with quirky stuff, play endless role playing games mostly in the upper dining room, sleep little and frequently queue into long lines at the food court on the Lido Deck.

Time will tell if we suffer the fate of the two Princess cruise ships, but most likely we’ll be fine. Even before all this coronavirus started, sanitation has always been a high priority on cruise ships. Purell stations are everywhere and people are mostly refraining from touching each other and washing their hands thoroughly after bathroom stops or when leaving or returning to their rooms.

We’ve rented the whole ship so it’s been largely transformed for us. Generally, this is good. There is no annoying art auction and the shops and casino look eerily empty. Also largely empty is the promenade (Deck 3) which is usually full of walkers and joggers. I saw one lone jogger and a few others in deck chairs. It was the quietest place on this noisy ship.

Should I take it as an omen that we didn’t berth at our first port of call? It’s Half Moon Cay, Holland America’s private island in the Bahamas, and pretty much always the first port of call on one of their ships out of Fort Lauderdale. We weren’t spurned due to coronavirus fears, but because seas were choppy due to a strong low pressure system north of our ship. That’s why the captain changed course and this morning we found ourselves south of Hispanola where the seas are finally calmer.

Tomorrow we are expected to berth at Santo Domingo where we’ll have an outdoor concert. Last I heard, the Dominican Republic hadn’t refused our entry. That’s because no one was let on the ship sick. They took our temperature prior to boarding, and we had to assert we hadn’t recently traveled through suspect Asian airports.

Still, you never know. We don’t get much news on this cruise ship. Internet is prohibitively expensive, but we do get satellite TV and Holland America doesn’t block the New York Times site, in fact it subscribes to it for us. For the most part the passengers seem vigilant about hygiene but won’t let it affect their valuable social interactions. This cruise is a place to be your inner oddball, so it’s quite okay to be Corporal Klinger in high heels and hose around here. You are probably one of a dozen passengers with a similar theme. Klinger though was just vying for a Section 8. There are plenty of real trans people on this cruise. If you can’t figure it out from their somewhat manly appearance and breasts, their name tag suggests you use “they” as their personal pronoun. They look happy and liberated. For a week they can be accepted and be themselves. It’s going home to a much colder world that is the hard part for them.

If anything, I am the oddball around here. I’m dressed American-ish, my personal pronoun is He, and I’m not polyamorous, in costume, have a stuffed dragon on my shoulder or am particularly into the odd stuff most of these people are into. My wife is quite into this culture. I just kind of observe it all from the sidelines. I’m no redneck and believe in live and let live. In my sixty plus years, I simply don’t care what your color, age, body shape or your sexual orientation is. We all are here and should just get along. The only thing that gives me some heartache are self-identified Republicans and conservatives. I just don’t understand them.

And until Saturday when we return and are hopefully let off the ship, I don’t have to. We are living in a kind of private space on this cruise, mostly insulated from the real world which will probably come crashing back to us on Saturday. Any coronavirus is likely on shore, not here on the ship. There are board games and weird seminars and exclusive shows on the Main Stage every evening. It may be that for us the safest and friendliest place in the world, at least for the moment, is right on this ship with the coast of Haiti off the port side.

Cruising for a difference

Is there really that much to distinguish cruise lines? This cruise is our fifth, and each has been on a different cruise line. In general, one won’t complain about the food on any cruise line. That certainly is not the case here on Holland America’s ship the Noordam, wending its way in a leisurely fashion toward the southern Caribbean. The staterooms on Holland America don’t look much different than staterooms on Royal Caribbean or Norwegian. They all have a promenade where those who prefer to move can stroll around the ship’s periphery, smell the salt air and get a little cardiovascular exercise. I noticed the picture gallery and theaters were in the very same spots on this cruise line as they were in the last two. Differences between cruise lines tend to be more of style than anything else. Carnival, unsurprisingly, has a reputation for partying, young adults and families with small children. Royal Caribbean is more buttoned down.

Holland America is definitely not a party ship. It is mostly a well-moneyed old people’s ship. There are a few middle aged people on the ship, by which I mean thirty or forty something, but just a few. By that criteria I no longer qualify. Still, I skew younger than the average age of a passenger on the Noordam. Sixty or seventy something is more par for the course. Expect passengers with canes, walkers and motorized carts. Holland America and the Noordam in particular is just more relaxed and quiet in general than other cruise lines we’ve experiences. There are fewer long waits at the elevators. There are fewer passengers elbowing you in the hallways. The staff doesn’t try quite so hard to ply you with booze (extra of course) or to petition you to buy overpriced art. Moreover, checking in was a breeze. We were expecting a ninety-minute process and long lines. Passengers tend to show up en masse as soon as the cruise line opens its doors. Two hours before sailing, at least for us, there was no line. It took ten minutes tops to get from our drop off point at the front of the Fort Lauderdale cruise terminal until we were walking onto the ship. Why do people show up early when for most other events people show up either on time or fashionably late? I believe it’s not the ports of call that attract most people to cruises. It’s the buffet and the promise of as much food as you can eat that really has them signing up, so the sooner you can start the mass gluttony, the better. And generally if you want to find someone that’s where they are. In the case of the Noordam, it’s Deck 9, the Lido (“Lee-doh”) deck with its mostly always-open buffet. And mostly business is hopping on Deck 9, which is also convenient to pools, hot tubs and lots of lounge chairs.

Beach at Hollywood Florida
Beach at Hollywood Florida

 

This time our cruise was out of Fort Lauderdale, Florida. It came with a bonus: the ability to finally see my sister Teri’s house in nearby Hollywood. She has been there for sixteen years with her husband, her dog and her boat. We avoid Florida except, apparently, as a place to catch a cruise ship. So we arrived a day early to see her and get a sense of Hollywood, Florida where she lives and the Fort Lauderdale area. My general impression was favorable. Florida has a lot of ugly beach communities, but Hollywood is not one of them. It has a long and impressive “broadwalk”, sort of like a boardwalk except it is not elevated, wider and not wooden. It has a charm to it, and tries hard to be the Florida you see in postcards, if you can ignore the condos, hotels and seaside businesses next to the ocean and broadwalk. Nearby Dania Beach to its north is also nice. We stopped at a pier for a quick lunch at a restaurant at the pier and marveled at the cool weather in the 60s and the dry and breezy winds. What soon became more interesting was a school of shark that appeared just off the pier. Everyone outside on the pier eating lunch quickly turned their attention away from their food to the sharks stalking a large school of fish nearby instead. The fish appeared to escape, but probably lost out when they went out of our range.

The Fort Lauderdale cruise terminals proved hard to get to, particularly since roads are under construction, which meant weird detours were needed. The cruise terminals are frankly in an ugly part of town, as freighters also load up there, which meant plenty of freight containers for scenery. The view was much more impressive once onboard the Noordam, particularly from the Lido deck. Fort Lauderdale looks great from that high up. It is a major city in its own right, certainly not as big as Miami to its immediate south but catching up quickly and with an impressive skyline.

Fort Lauderdale skyline from cruise ship
Fort Lauderdale skyline from cruise ship

So we quickly settled into our room on the main deck, enjoyed their four-star dining room, then went on our first of what will be many walks around its promenade. Miami was just a twinkling of light in the distant west. It seemed that nothing could interfere with this wonderful eleven day adventure. Then the lights went out.

Dead stop. Just an emergency light winked on near our cabin door. After about a minute the emergency power kicked in and the lights came on but there was nothing but silence from the engines. After a few more minutes the captain came on to announce us the obvious. There had been an electrical malfunction. Happily it didn’t last too long and was over in about ninety minutes. Eventually one engine came back online, then the next. Our arrival in the Bahamas this morning was not delayed, but no one will say or admit to a reason for the incident.

Cruise lines prove that they are major players when they buy their own private island in the Bahamas. Holland America bought theirs, and it’s called Half Moon Cay. It comes with the usual accommodations for cruise ship passengers: bands playing calypso music and singing Jimmy Buffet songs, white sandy beaches, gift shops and a huge outdoor barbecue where you can gorge yourself sick. That’s what most passengers were doing. Frankly, it made me ill to look at all that greasy food, so I opted for a short walk to the other side of the island instead. A fake shipwreck along the shoreline was actually a bar and allowed another opportunity to get plastered. Despite the sandy beaches and temperatures in the 70s, few were in the water. Empty beach chairs were in abundance. The water was an amazing shade of blue and closer to shore, colored aquamarine.

Half Moon Cay, Bahamas
Half Moon Cay, Bahamas

Next stop: Grand Turk Island.