Life Aboard a Ship: It Was the Best of All Possible Worlds

The Noordam backed into the wharf at Nassau, the Bahamas, in company with three other enormous cruise ships. We walked to the nearby town and took a horse-drawn carriage at the square, which was overseen by a seated statue of Queen Victoria.

Our driver conscientiously identified every structure. “That’s the Nassau grocery store,” he said of a corner grocery. From one point we could see an island across the bay. Our driver said it was Pleasure Island, home of the rich and famous and the world’s most beautiful beach. He said we could take a ferry to the island.

Back at the wharf we found the ferry. It was almost full and about ready to take off when we hurried to catch it. The other passengers were annoyed at us for holding them up. The ferry was old and lame and had a bad cough.

We jumped ashore and walked up to a shopping mall from which we could see two enormous hotels. We found a restaurant in the mall and had lunch. It was too far to walk to the beach.

We walked back to the dock and waited until the ferry had enough passengers to make the return trip. We were rather disappointed in Pleasure Island. I had hoped to see a handsome young couple--he in swimming trunks, she in a bikini--standing in the surf against a sunset, like in the ads.

By this time I had discovered that the ship was more rewarding than the islands. There is no better way to unwind than on a sea voyage. One has no responsibility except to take one’s meals. Food is available at any time of day. So is drink. The Noordam has half a dozen bars, on various decks, both forward and aft.

I soon discovered my favorite--the Crow’s Nest. This cozy retreat is forward on the sun deck, directly over the bridge. One sits in a black leather chair and looks through large windows at the same view the captain has. We made our way to the Crow’s Nest every day at the cocktail hour. Invariably, I had a split of champagne and my wife had a vodka tonic. One merely signs for drinks.

A waiter always brought us a plate of hors d’oeuvres--every day a different mix. It was sinful to eat so much just before dinner, but we rarely left a morsel. Meanwhile, a young woman played medleys of old favorites on a grand piano. “As Time Goes By” . . . “I’ll Be Seeing You” . . . “Cocktails for Two.”

We had asked for a table for two in the dining room, preferring to be alone. Every afternoon the wine steward was on duty on the main deck to take orders. I always picked a wine from his list, signed for it, and when we sat at our table the wine would be there in a cooler, and the steward would soon turn up to open it. It was the best of all possible worlds.

I tried to restrain myself at table, usually having only the salad of the day and an entree. My wife, believing that the main purpose of travel is eating, had an appetizer, soup, salad, an entree and dessert. On a given evening that could be smoked eel, pot-au-feu , seafood Caesar salad, scallops in garlic cream sauce, and crepes Caribbean. She also drank her half of the wine--right down to the last quarter inch. The wine steward saw to that.

I spent most of my days in a deck chair, watching our fellow passengers walking around the ship, elbows pumping, pot bellies thrust forward. It is a truism that most American men over 50 have pot bellies. I will not mention their wives.

I read four novels. At home I do not read four novels in four months. One reason for this performance was that we did not turn on our cabin television set once. To escape TV is perhaps the greatest boon of travel.

Wanting rest more than anything, my wife and I avoided the numerous activities offered to more sociable passengers--aerobics, dance lessons, bridge, bingo, scrabble, volleyball, Ping-Pong and stud poker, among others.

Disembarkation was a bore. Disembarking more than 1,000 passengers is not a simple procedure. First we had to clear customs. That was a snap. My wife had spent exactly $69.45. Bags had been tagged with different colors, depending on one’s destination. Our color was green for renting a car. We all assembled in the Admiral’s Lounge until our colors were called. Ours was called last, after a two-hour wait.

From the pier we phoned Dollar rent-a-car and a man came for us in a bus. We were soon on the road to Orlando and the world of Disney.