Why I still choose to cruise

Thirty-four years ago, aboard the Stella Oceanis, I sailed on my first cruise. I felt like a lottery winner--heady with options, elated at my good fortune, and vaguely suspicious of all these new people who suddenly wanted to be my friends. In seven days, I raced, like Greece'd lightning, through Mykonos, Rhodes, Delos, Crete, and Santorini, and, in a Turkey trot, through Istanbul and Kusadasi. I paid $325 for an inside cabin on a lower deck--no porthole, no window, no veranda, no matter. At debarkation, I wondered how soon I could afford to sail again. An instant "cruiseaholic," I was hooked.

Back then I knew next-to-nothing about cruises. We were still six years away from the 1977 television premiere of "The Love Boat," whose terrific 10-year tenure conveyed (to people in 93 countries) that cruising was convivial, romantic, accessible, and fun. Keep in mind, though, that only 500,000 folks cruised in 1970, while last year North American cruisers numbered nine million plus. So, back in 1971, I was an unwitting pioneer.

In the ensuing 34 years, I've chronicled shipboard life, serendipitous ports, and the frisson of new friendships. Sure, I've experienced the occasional cabin so tiny that it would render a hamster claustrophobic, and I've endured (rare) rough seas where I lost both my will to live and my lunch. But I haven't experienced any of the more traumatic, isolated incidents such as shipboard fires and viruses that have sometimes made the news. My cruise images are happier and have lingered longer.

I once speculated that my shipmates were probably retired millionaires who had the time, money, and wardrobes to suit endless odysseys. Nowadays we're told that the average age of cruise "hot prospects" is 43, and that half of all cruise passengers earn between $20,000 and $59,000 annually. Once perceived as the domain of the elite, cruises nowadays are easily more egalitarian.

Not surprisingly, at least 85 percent of previously surveyed passengers agreed that "cruising is an important vehicle for sampling destinations to which they may return." During a typical 6- to 12-hour visit, a port may be superficially sampled; the starved traveler/explorer may crave a much more substantial (land-based) meal. Nonetheless, I've found port sampling useful in pinpointing places to which I'd surely wish to return. Rio? Capri? Hong Kong? Portofino? I knew I had to go back.

For some folks--presumably less gregarious (more selective?) than others--shipboard camaraderie invokes a kind of relentless, forced intimacy with strangers. (Bleakly, Samuel Johnson once compared a ship to a jail, noting that "... a man in jail has more room, better food, and commonly better company"). On cruises, though, sociability seems expected and easy; I have developed both temporary and lasting friendships with ships' personnel and fellow passengers. Besides, I cannot recall having swapped addresses with a seatmate on a 747, nor have I ever attended a reunion of former fellow guests at a tony resort.

For me, a cruise unfolds much like a good play. There is the potential for: dramatic entrances, conspiratorial huddles, chance encounters, anonymity or "stardom," intriguing identities, frequent "costume" changes (though more casual options and opportunities certainly seem to be catching on), gossip, quirky/colorful characters, snappy dialogue, and anxious anticipation of what might happen next. Some cruises resemble television "soaps'--just add water.

Just as my past cruises have provided diversions aplenty, future cruises hint at options and variety on the horizon. There are more than 150 ships from which to choose--from yacht-like vessels offering an intimate ambiance and the perks of privacy and elan to huge megaships comprising entertainment centers, shopping malls, restaurants, spas, resort activities, and swift samplings of ports.

Cruise industry optimism--reflected by heady investments in new ships--seems to echo a movie-turned-maritime mantra: "If we build it, they will come."

I'll come. I want to experience diverse itineraries, (Princess Cruises offers 150), maiden port calls (Crystal Cruises offers Oban in Scotland and Nesebur in Bulgaria), access to continents (Holland America Line visits all seven)--as well as alternative dining venues and entertainment designed to dazzle and delight. Choices abound, and my expectations remain high. In 34 years of cruising, ships have delivered me through the Corinth and Panama canals, to Mauritania and Moorea, to Bergen and Bali, to Sydney and Santorini, to Cabo San Lucas and Curacao. And, there are cruises still waiting to take me almost anywhere in the world from Acapulco to Zanzibar.

Cruise ships--sailing on an arc from folksy diversion to futuristic fantasy--have entertained, educated, and pampered me. I still choose to cruise because the principal cargo is contentment.

See you up on Sun Deck.

COPYRIGHT 2005 World Publishing, Co. (Illinois)
COPYRIGHT 2005 Gale Group