David's Cruise

“Island Princess,” which I failed to mention yesterday was the white cruise ship perhaps two or three miles almost directly behind, and clearly visible, particularly from the open decks aft.

In port today: Celebrity REFLECTION immediately opposite my starboard balcony.  Cunard QUEEN VICTORIA, Royal Caribbean SERENADE of the SEAS, Silverseas SILVER WIND, Carnival SUNRISE, and Princess ISLAND PRINCESS, On the horizon, another unidentified cruise ship, starboard aft, beyond the harbour and surrounding buildings…a white speck “on the horizon.”

This is the final call today of a voyage which in certain circles will go down in history. There’s a therapeutic breeze across the open decks.

Several announcements requested those disembarking today to proceed ashore immediately. What kind of onward journey they will experience is anyone’s guess. And perhaps, I, too will breathe a sigh of relief when authorised to leave the ship at Southampton. I have been advised not to take media reporting on the virus situation as importantly as I seem to have suggested in my blogs. However, I can’t help but be alarmed a little bit by what I am reading and hearing first hand. I detect the initial slow formation of egg shells on these last few days! It remains hot and sunny and although today must be the last of the glorious weather for the time-being, we are assured of a far less tempestuous crossing than during our westbound transit of the North Atlantic. It is almost noon, and we are still awaiting clearance to leave.

Now that, while in the USA, calls home are already paid for, I have so far been unable to connect with home. Should I read something into this?!

I am still pleased with my purchase yesterday. I’m rather pleased I was less interested in a bridge chart; Peter from my former table won that bid for the chart of the entire voyage. This would have been a fine souvenir but at least it went to a very good home.

So we wait. As soon as our departure is announced, I shall blog that we are on our way.

Thanks for reading, David: 12.05 hrs St. Patrick’s Day.

Another gorgeous morning following, this time, a dodgy night, probably over anxious about the nightmare that awaits back home. Several hundred are on their last day already as M.V. Queen Victoria steams towards what is now its final port of call, Fort Lauderdale, before eventual arrival at Southampton. As I commenced my breakfast of porridge topped with yoghurt, followed by grapefruit, Jo was deck walking. She was soon to catch up with me outside on Deck 9, and like conversations I had overheard, we resolved to make the very most of the fine weather, and the fortunate position we find ourselves in for the time- being.

The Captain has delivered another inaudible noon-day address. His heavy Irish accent makes it difficult to hang on to his every word. When, however, he updates his passengers about Brexit (sorry, that should be Coronavirus!) he is perfectly clear, even if his message can be a tad ambiguous. But that has more to do with his being in the dark almost as much as we are. The organisation on board is so very well carried out that it is difficult to believe the crisis we believe we might be heading for. Food (and toilet paper) remain plentiful. But I am told the next QV cruise to Hamburg and Amsterdam and itineraries in the immediate future are cancelled. The entire Carnival fleet, it is rumoured, is coming out of service. I have had a Cunard letter expressing the intention of Cunard to resume cruises from April 11th . Few countries, even those we have called at recently, will accept cruise ship passengers.

I am on Deck 3 having completed four laps. Time for lunch, then the Grand Voyage Country Fayre.

Back in Buenos Aires, you will remember my writing about the Cunard Gala staged ashore for all those on the complete tour. The proceedings started with a horse display outside at the massive venue where tapas dishes would be offered during the entire event. Drink would flow, and Tango performances would be continuous throughout the late afternoon/ early evening event. The “QV South America” logo had been reinterpreted into a colourful and attractive Argentinian style design especially for this huge occasion, which was staged twice over the two days we were in port there. An oil poster of this special logo from which postcards were produced, as well as part of the waitresses uniform, was displayed prominently at the event on both days. This original painting had my name on it! It was to be auctioned, today, for charity at the Cunard Country Fayre, a kind of on board garden party, to raise money for charity, usually towards the end of the “World and complete Grand Voyages. Today, at that fayre, several interesting items were auctioned off, many fetching several hundred dollars, though no item reached four figures. The item I was after, but didn’t expect to “win” was the penultimate one at the auction. There were determined bidders. I raised four fingers to the Neil Kelly who was a splendid auctioneer expecting my bid of $400.00 to be beaten. Quietness fell in the Queens Room as Neil very slowly, trying to attract a higher bidder pronounced “going…….going………..GONE!!!! The Art Gallery are packing my painting for transfer to my collection in Buxton. Lauren will frame and glaze it with museum glass. I spent the rest of the day delighted!

I am told the BBC ‘s News Website reports that M.V. Queen Victoria is heading to Southampton empty. I certainly hope not! I need more than an afternoon to pack.

Tomorrow, we shall arrive at Ft. Lauderdale/Port Everglades at around 06.00hrs. We should hopefully be on our way to Southampton at lunch time. One grand final departure then, assuming the BBC has got it wrong again. What I am informed is that the QM2 World Voyage has been curtailed near Perth, QE, has disembarked its passengers elsewhere in Australia and I understand both those are indeed on their way to Southampton “empty stock.” Passengers from both voyages would be flown home.

That’s all so far today. Many thanks for reading, David 12.50hrs Mon 16th March.

Ammended 23.54 hrs 16th March 2020

There is a definite feeling of “It’s Over” on board today. We have less than a fortnight left, and we are only calling at Fort Lauderdale to let passengers off to continue their onward journeys. This afternoon, Haiti was visible from the starboard side, and remains in sight from my stateroom.

I had one of those annoying panics this morning; for the life if me, not only could I not find my watch, but also vanished was the atomic watch I wear at home which adjusts itself automatically. It has stayed on U.K. time throughout the voyage.  Although irritated, and slightly worried, the watch I wear daily out here had got mixed up with the bed linen….and I would find out much later that the posh watch had dropped into a carrier bag. Bulk relief!  It would have been a good excuse to purchase a G.P.S. version which adjusts automatically wherever one is in the world. 

I won at whist today, for a third time. However, my score of 113 was not one to write home about!  Tomorrow is the country fayre, the event on Grand and World Voyages where passengers donate unwanted items to be sold off for charity.  There are some interesting items to be auctioned at 3pm tomorrow, including a hand-painted poster of the QV South America logo in Argentinian style.  Jo does not like it at all, and I do realise its lack of investment potential!  I am toying with the idea of investing in Carnival shares while their value is at an all time low.  I suspect those in a position to do so will invest in the stock market at this time of Coronavirus influenced financial depression. 

It’s Gala Night tonight. I think I shall wear the white tuxedo as we are still in the Caribbean. However, I fear those ultra hot days I yearn for and enjoy are over for the time being.

It’s the end of the day; the Royal Court Singers and Dancers entertained a respectable house tonight with song and dance medley of popular music. These impromptu shows don’t come across as put together at the last minute. The talent of all the artists and musicians is mind boggling. Even the guy operating the stage lighting and sound has the dexterity of a concert pianist.

We are isolated at the moment from the global threat of Coronavirus, but these days of being away from the troubles to come are numbered. There’s alarming talk of being confined to home for four months. This situation is unprecedented and alarming. However, I am determined to enjoy these final days; we shall be express to Southampton from midday the day after tomorrow.

Good night and thanks for reading, David. 00.13 hrs 16th March….just 12 days to Southampton.

This may be by way of a finale to an amazing cruise which began so confidently with that magnificent fireworks display on the evening 10th January. We docked at our final “exotic” port of call today; we are due to call at Fort Lauderdale after two sea days, and in the Azores after a further six.

The Captain’s announcement that new passengers, crew and entertainers would not now be allowed to board at Ft. Lauderdale was met with applause and approval in the Lido early this evening, obviously relieved that all was being done to eliminate the risk of Coronavirus being introduced. (Just to “put the mockers on it,” we have at least one passenger who joined, I think, in San Antonio who he tells me, flew in from Rome, and that CV takes at least a fortnight to incubate…that’s what he told me!)

Oranjestad was even lovelier than suggested in the travel brochures with its traditional pastel shaded architecture and perpetual very warm weather. But, there seemed to be an overriding finality as the final sector of this historic South America voyage approaches, and the certainly that these hot Caribbean days are numbered.  And I have probably been on the final (or penultimate, if we still call at Ponta Delgada, in the Azores) shore excursion.  I did get to see much of Curacao from a rather cramped bus which doubles as a coach complete with air-conditioning and non stop talking tour guide. I felt an air of nostalgia as we visited a liqueur factory, the Hato Caves, and Curacao’s museum. Fine views were had from the spectacular Queen Juliana Bridge whose structure was painted in the colours of the flag of Curacao. The promised flamingos put in a brief but plentiful appearance at a lake where the bus paused all too briefly for “through-the-tinted- window” photographs. In the museum, paintings, a dining-room table setting, and an amazing ancient key-board instrument where the “keys” play a carillion of bells. Our guide demonstrated her skills playing the first notes of “When the Saints go Marching by!”  All very “touristy.”  We did get to see the preserved front end of the very first K.L.M. (Dutch Royal Airline) plane from 1919. Just for me, there was what looked like a quarry train, a small yellow narrow gauge diesel shunting locomotive attached to two wagons on a tiny section of railway.  Eventually, time was up and our “coach” took us back to the ship.  I found a park bench facing M.V. Queen Victoria, looking splendid in its berth.  While talking to a guest, also called David, I thought of all the places that particular ship had conveyed me to. San Francisco to Sydney last year was remarkable, but a mere shadow of this year’s voyage around South America.

For a second time, dinner was al fresco aft on deck 9. We were joined by table companion Janet who has arranged to stay on board to Southampton. Jo and I rounded off a perfect day deck walking before attending the Show Night and then “calling it a day.” Thanks for reading, David. (Blog completed 15th April : 16.11hrs, after winning at whist!)

I have to “hand it to Cunard!” No sooner one port has to be cancelled, all is in place for a “plan B.”  We docked this morning at Oranjestad, Aruba, self proclaimed as “One Happy Island.”  A revised Daily Programme had been issued, along with the Cunard official Port Guide, all as if part of the original itinerary. The organisation, even if pre-prepared is very impressive.

Jo, Ginnie and I set off walking from the ship, resisting the persistent offers for tours of the island and beach. One such suggestion did appeal, the transport being completely open to the gorgeous weather and Caribbean breeze.  Julio our driver was not overly successful in attracting more clients to what turned out to be an excellent tour with tons of information, most of it very interesting. Jo and I were dropped off near the end of our island drive near to a magnificent beach of light golden sands and a sea of multiple shades of turquoise.  Yep, the shoes came off and I paddled.  (14/3/20)  While Cunard’s Plan B was most impressive, the scheduled Gala attire dress code went ahead regardless of our call at Oranjestad.  I doubt many opted for formal dining yesterday evening, many of us, I think, chose to dine”under the stars.” Jo and I were joined by Richard and Barbara. Despite an early night, I did sleep very well and was able to enjoy our third to last call, Willemstad, Curacao, pronounced “cure a sow!” All the best, David. Ammended, 23.39hrs 14/3/20.

Many thanks for reading, David, blog completed 14/3/20.

Yesterday, during dinner, an announcement from the Captain was relayed over the ship’s P.A. system stating that passenger ships would not be allowed to dock at Cartagena, our next and final port of call in South America (Colombia). The seriousness of the Coronavirus situation is now becoming apparent although I still feel the casualty rate to be small at the moment. However, I don’t consider myself qualified even to speculate at all on this subject. The final 16 days of this voyage are going to certainly be “kind of interesting.” 

This morning, our Captain addressed his passengers expressing the hope that an alternative port of call might be possible and in his noon-day address, he informed us of his intention to dock at Aruba tomorrow, in lieu of our day in Cartagena. Therefore, the last we saw of South America was in Ecuador.

Leaving the tranquil confines of the Panama Canal at around 17.00hrs yesterday, we were soon in turbulent waters once again. I resorted to a mal-de-mer pill. That plus a coffee liqueur prompted a magnificent sleep last night from which, this morning, I feel fresh and relaxed.

Aruba has been confirmed as a “replacement” port of call, and this has been welcomed especially by those disappointed that we were unable to visit Cartagena today.

This afternoon, I resumed my whist drive sessions which now, I rather enjoy.   I didn’t win, however. Hans must have been “on a roll” as his score was a magnificent 125, against my “reasonable” 101. I imagine the highest possible score is 169, 13 “tricks” in each of 13 rounds.

After playing cards, I found Jo sunning herself on Deck 10, where she takes root most days.  I enjoyed the sun for around half an hour, also on Deck 10.  But I am nervous these days about excessive hours in the sun especially at this lattitude.   I need to visit that nice lady in the computer room “Connexions 1” on Deck 1. Once again, I have drained off my internet minutes, all seven hours worth!  On board ship, one can purchase, or is allocated  internet time, the amount based on loyalty level.  Being a Diamond member of the Cunard World Club, I receive what I would term as minor perks, but a decent 480 minutes of internet each voyage, or sector when on a “World Voyage which is what the South America cruise is considered to be. When finished with the ship’s internet, one must “log out.” I mustn’t have done this yesterday or this morning. So now its grovelling time, again!

Over three hundred minutes were reinstated, thankfully. Tonight, Jo suggested dinner in the Golden Lion Pub, where the resident pianist serenaded the customers as they walked in ready for a pub quiz. I had my usual curried lamb shank which for a second time was magnificent. We didn’t have to wait anything like as long as previously.

Being at sea unexpectedly, the entertainment personnel did a superb job of rebuilding the schedule for the day. Show Time was an excellent performance of song and dance from Cunard’s own entertainers – they were superb, and well worth watching. I do get the feeling Cunard do everything they can to ensure its guests are well taken care of.

We lose an hour tonight as the time is adjusted one hour forward during the night. Tomorrow, Jo and I will explore Aruba, and no doubt, the beach!

Thanks for reading, David.

There is much to be said for relaxing on a cruise ship in the tropics during an English winter.  Last night, a barbecue on Deck 9 aft, by the pool was followed by dancing under the stars.  I had enjoyed (more than I would expect) what turned out to be a kind of chair-lift ( referred to as trams) through the tree tops to an observation tower atop a steep hill.

I did write about the difficulties going ashore yesterday. We guessed that the problem was the country’s reluctance to entertain two ship-loads of passengers while Coronavirus paranoia is prevalent. My trip to the Aerial Tram ran almost four hours late. However, we did see and do everything we would have done had we left at 09.45 and not around 1pm.

Today was the “big one,”  crossing from the Pacific Ocean to the Caribbean Sea.  I was awakened by bright sunlight penetrating my thick curtains a little after 06.30hrs.  Panama City was much in evidence as I peeked out onto my balcony. This meant that I had missed little.  I was up and dressed with great alacrity and have seen plenty today, much of which felt unfamiliar despite having been through the Panama Canal in the same direction, as recently as last summer.  I was reminded of the lovely green vegetation, and steep sided rainforest shrouded hillocks between the different locks as we negotiated the Panama Canal. We went up one of these hills yesterday. I took fewer photographs and videos than on my first trip through last year. We exited the Panama Canal almost, if not exactly on time and now the seas are reminding us who is in charge as my stateroom takes on the stability of a Japanese earthquake. It became very hot in the afternoon, but a substantial breeze kept things bearable.

The voyage is far from over; there are 16 days before I am driving home to North Derbyshire. We call at Cartagena in Colombia tomorrow, our last port in South America, which I look forward to being shown around. We then venture to Willemstad, Curacao, Fort Lauderdale and six days later, the Azores. Hopefully we can bring this lovely weather back to the U.K. for the start of a long hot summer.

Thanks for reading, David. 20.03 hrs, 11/3/20

It’s 9am, and although having arrived in good time, it seems the Authorities in Panama may be reluctant to allow us to be tendered ashore. We wait in suspense, but this Coronavirus crisis may have, at last caught up with our voyage.  Our final days on board may become rather interesting, but as of now, I am not unduly concerned.

It’s now 09.30 and still, there is no news about our being allowed ashore.  Messages are being relayed into the staterooms and I am now, taking this opportunity of tidying up my room.

10.51 hrs. At long last, Panamanian Port Authorities have granted us permission to go ashore. I suspect everything now to be around two hours late. I do have “sarnies” made up from bread meat and cheese available in the Lido. Biscuits from my cabin and some fruit will ensure I don’t feel hungry. It looks as if I will encounter an aerial tram after all!

More comment as the day progresses. However, the Captain has announced passengers can now go ashore; that is before I have been summoned to meet in the Royal Court Theatre. More chaos then; I’m keeping out of it!

Thanks for reading, David. 11.00hrs.

(07.00 hrs) Rarely am I up early enough to witness a glorious sunrise. It is not yet 7am, but the sky is splendid with its pale salmon, orange and almost white tints. A very slight mist doesn’t quite obscure the silhouetted high-rise buildings on the distant horizon looking across from my balcony towards the left. Sunblock and insect repellent are the order of the day; my chosen shore excursion is entitled “Aerial Tram Encounter.” Apparently, there’s a kind of cable car network which takes one through the jungle tree tops in search of the wildlife which inhabits the area. I have been warned not to expect to see anything; various bear-hunts, whale watching and other such quests, particularly in Alaska, usually result in split-second glimpses at best. Walvis Bay in Namibia was the exception to the rule in 2018 when our Seals and Dolphins cruise had us in the middle of thousands of both, as well as other wildlife.

Looking at my Daily Programme, I see that tonight there is a barbecue on deck 9 followed by a Dancing under the Stars Deck Party from 9.15. I remain hugely impressed by this whole voyage. Speakers have delivered excellent lectures throughout the voyage, and information about each port and event has been in plentiful supply. Both around Cape Horn and transiting the Panama Canal, with the on-board presentations, it has been possible to become an expert on both. That doesn’t mean to say that I attended everything on offer, but it was all there, and repeated on T.V. if one so wished.

Now, it’s time to prepare for today; we meet in the Royal Court Theatre at 09.00hrs for today’s shore excursion. Boy! It’s going to be hot! More later in the day, David. 07.23hrs.

I am sure we were on deck at 23.17 last night, when, according to the Captain’s almost inaudible noon-day address, today,  (I think) he said that was when we crossed into the northern hemisphere. A previous announcement the day before indicated we would cross the Equator at 22.58 hrs or thereabouts. Whatever time we “crossed the Line,” a massive blast on the ship’s siren, might have been appropriate, possibly with a warning to passengers so that those who may be momentarily disturbed, may not be alarmed. I am not aware of any sirens when we crossed last night.

Tonight, all passengers received a certificate confirming their “crossing of the line.” It had been a lovely day which I chose to enjoy, rather than be confined to the windowless Connexions 2 venue for the afternoon whist drive, which I am now a little less enthusiastic about. However, I do intend playing again after the Panama Canal transit.

I did very little on this sea day; Ruth Clamp the port lecturer delivered yet another brilliant account, this time, of Willemstad, Curacao. I had lunch, with Jo joining me for the main course and a coffee. The rest of the day was spent enjoying the sun.

Tonight, the full moon which I could see from my stateroom balcony was a vivid light orange in colour. I tried to photograph it; the Lumix did slightly better than my phone, but neither reproduced the shade I could see outside.

The Britannia Restaurant offered their excellent chicken curry which I enjoyed thoroughly. Show-time was very good also with a first rate juggler/magician of superhuman dexterity.

It’s time for bed; I have another shore excursion in the morning. Thanks for reading; David. 00.25 hrs 10th March 2020.

Revised slightly to “flow better” 06.48 hrs 10th March 2020.