Thursday 22 March 2018


TRANS-ATLANTIC CRUISE – PART 1

We felt right at home as soon as we stepped across the gangway and boarded the MS Prinsendam, the fourth ship we’ve sailed on in Holland America’s line.  Our trip to Fort Lauderdale hadn’t happened quite as we’d planned.  We were supposed to leave Charlottetown early Saturday morning, arrive in Florida early afternoon, and spend the weeked with friends Danielle Robert and Serge Martel.  But a snowstorm cancelled our Charlottetown flight, so we had to fly out of Moncton instead, arriving early Sunday morning in Fort Lauderdale, too late to visit our friends.

Dog-tired after eight straight sixteen-hour days spent setting up our new apartment on Allen St., we welcomed a few days’ downtime.  A Sunday visit to downtown Fort Lauderdale was just what the doctor ordered.  Our shitty hotel, the Red Carpet Inn, was hardly the place to spend a warm, sunny day.  We took the city bus and strolled Riverwalk and Los Olas Boulevard, stopping for lunch and coffee along the way. 
Next morning, we stood in line in front of the hotel with other cruisers, waiting for a very disorganized shuttle service to finally take us to Cruiseport.  Note to self: find a better hotel if there is a next time in Fort Lauderdale.

A funny thing happened as we stood in line at the security checkpoint before boarding the ship.  An elderly man, heavy-set in navy blue shorts, was told to do something by one of the security agents.  Probably take off his belt.  Somehow, he understood he was to take off his shorts.  Down they dropped, exposing matching boxers and skinny stovepipe legs.  The agent rushed over and helped him pull up the shorts, she far redder in the face than him.  I watched other agents as they tried in vain to keep straight faces.  The nearby Sheriff’s Deputy buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Once on board, we scanned fellow passengers, overwhelmingly white and American.  “Jesus”, I thought, “I’ve never seen so many canes and walkers in my life, outside of a nursing home.”  Many of our fellow travellers are well into their seventies, some in their eighties, and a few in their nineties!  I wonder what motivates them to embark on such an adventure despite obvious physical limitations.  Many will not even be able to go ashore in the ports we’ll visit.  Elva and I talk about whether we’ll travel in ten or fifteen years time.  We conclude that, for those much older than we are, being on this floating hotel constitutes a welcome change of scenery, relief from boredom, and being on the move is better than a lonely room, wherever home may be.  Suddenly, it makes sense.
The Prinsendam is a much smaller ship than we’re used to, tiny compared to the behemoths that ply the seven seas these days, floating cities that carry 4,000 passengers and more.  But she’s got all the amenities and services we’ve come to expect from Holland America.  Being at sea for the first couple of days forces us to relax and wind down.  Cut off from wifi and all but a few TV stations, we find other ways to amuse ourselves.

Our first port of call, San Juan, Puerto Rico, was not a new destination for us.  We called here in 2014 aboard the Zaandam on a ten-day Caribbean cruise.  The old city is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and well worth a visit.  We retraced steps from our last visit, going back to places we’d enjoyed.


Tortola in the British Virgin Islands was to be the second stop on our cruise tour, but the island has yet to recover sufficiently from the ravages of last fall’s Hurricane Irma.  Instead, we sailed into Cruz Bay on St. John Island, one of the US Virgin Islands.  We took the tender into the small harbour, checked things out, and opted for a tour with local Elvis Sprauve, our colourful and informative guide for the next couple of hours.  He showed us the island’s beauty, talked about its history, and explained the impact of the hurricane.  One five-star resort we looked down on from the coast road had been totally destroyed.  Wrecked pleasure boats dotted sheltered coves, waiting for their owners to claim them or for someone to break them up for salvage.

St. John reminded us of other small islands we’ve visited in the Caribbean: Les Saintes, Tobago, Carriacou, Bequia, and Nevis, notably.  They’re unique places inhabited by very special people.  Those that haven’t been spoiled by too much development feature a laid-back atmosphere, one that makes you appreciate that things there really do run on “island time”.


Day 6 of the cruise was the first of five straight days at sea, as we crossed the open Atlantic Ocean from the Carribean to our next stop, due East, the Cape Verde Islands.  The last two days were quite rough, cramping our style somewhat.  Five days may sound like a long time to spend on a ship but the time goes by fast.  We sleep in, take our time at breakfast, walk on the promenade, go to the gym, lay in the sun, get to know fellow passengers, watch a movie, go to a show or a lecture; before you know it, another day has passed. 

We get to know members of the crew and find their life stories just as interesting as those of the passengers.  Indonesians fill restaurant and steward positions, Phillipinos work the kitchens and the bars, and the Dutch, for the most part, run the show.  All are very proficient and professional.  There are married couples among the crew.  Officers are allowed to have their families with them but those who work lower-level jobs are not even allowed to bunk together.  There’s a strict hierarchy on board.

The Cape Verde Islands (officially, Cabo Verde) lie 560 kilometres west of Cap-Vert, Senegal.  It’s one of 56 countries in Africa and only the third we’ve visited (after Morocco and Egypt).  Formerly Portuguese territory, the country gained its independence in 1974 and has a population of 550,000 living on a land area less than half the size of Prince Edward Island.  It’s rated as a low-income country but, by African standards, enjoys high per capita income, life expectancy and literacy rates.   Our first stop was the town of Mindelo on the island of Sao Vicente.  We learned that the islands were discovered in 1456 by the Portuguese navigator, Diego Afonso.  The settlement grew as a provisioning station for slave ships crossing the Atlantic on their way to the Americas.  Fishing and tourism are the mainstays of the nation’s economy.

Our first stop in Cabo Verde was Mindelo, the main town on the island of Sao Vicente.  We walked around the waterfront, and checked the local fish, produce and handcraft markets.  Then we took a local bus along the cobble-stoned main highway across the island to the community of  Calhau.  The wind whipped due west from the African continent and nearly blew us off the rocky beach.  The landscape is very dry and bleak.  On the way back to town, the bus picked up and dropped off school children and their teachers.  What a wonderful way to experience local culture.


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