‘I Want to Be Alone’

Who was that mysterious woman who chose to dine alone during the seven-night Caribbean cruise? Who strolled the decks contentedly among 2,200 fellow passengers on the Norway; who looked too young to be widowed, too plain to be a gold digger, too cheerful to be fleeing misfortune, too relaxed to be a CEO, too under-jeweled and too un-thin to be one of the idle rich?

For one week last November, that was me. Temporarily spouseless and childless. Coming and going as I pleased, looking quite at home and yet peculiar on a sold-out ship teeming with couples and families.

I’d seen this type of lady on cruise ships before. Her age, like her personal history, is a matter of speculation. Sometimes she’ll fill in the blanks if you strike up a conversation. Sometimes she won’t.

I’ll never forget the eccentric grande dame from New Jersey who brought not one but two fur stoles on a Royal Viking transatlantic trip. Impossible to please, she sent her dinner back to the kitchen every night. She’d give the evil eye to the ship’s “gentlemen hosts”--the guys hired by cruise lines to dance with the single women, for those who didn’t see the recent Jack Lemmon/Walter Matthau movie “Out to Sea”--if they allowed her to sit out even one dance. Since she was one of the talkative ones, I learned that she had never married, but was sufficiently well-fixed to take two cruises a year.

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Another memorable matron--French-speaking, aloof and impeccably dressed--was an elegant presence on a Wind Star crossing. She had a Gallic Duchess-of-Windsor quality about her. Not once did I see her speak to another passenger. We never learned a scrap of detail about her, but Wind Star treated her like a VIP: A different ship’s officer joined her for dinner every night.

Perhaps the most legendary single supplement of all was the wealthy widow who actually lived aboard the Royal Viking Sun. She’d been around the world so many times that she never bothered to disembark in port any more.

And now I was one--without the furs or the je ne sais quoi. Wearing jewelry from only one husband, who was still very much alive.

The husband in question had less vacation time than I did. Our kids, now in their 20s and working, were unable to join me when Norwegian Cruise Line cut prices on certain Norway sailings from $1,499 per person to $599 for its cheapest (read: smallest and dreariest) inside cabins. I ended up paying more, $1,010, because I was going alone. But that was still a better deal than the $2,248 I would have paid if I’d gone alone at the brochure rate.

The infamous “single supplement” may be one reason why there aren’t more solo travelers on cruise ships. Such passengers typically pay 150% of the per-person price if they insist on rooming alone. Many cruise lines will match you with a same-sex roommate and thus save you the surcharge, but to me, privacy took precedence over price.

Now I was poised to become one of those enigmatic unescorted ladies. I envisioned a week of being gossiped about by fellow passengers and feted at the captain’s table, while fending off gigolos after my assets.

To really work the mystique thing, I should have chosen a transatlantic crossing--the better to have my sheer head scarf flutter horizontally in the stiff ocean breeze, Grace Kelly-style. The Norway, built in 1962 as the oceangoing steamship France for the French Line, has the proper sleek profile for such a pose on the promenade deck.

Instead, I chose an Eastern Caribbean cruise that turned out to be one of NCL’s popular sports-theme cruises--this one devoted to baseball. I also discovered that the Norway’s promenade deck is now a “sports deck” used by joggers. Pose at your own risk: You may be bowled over by someone doing his Gold’s Gym routine at sea.

The baseball cruise featured 17 active and retired major leaguers, a manager (Bill Russell of the Los Angeles Dodgers), a National League umpire (Eric Gregg), an announcer (former Yankees broadcaster Dave Cohen) and a mascot (Billy the Marlin). We sailed a Miami-to-Miami loop with stops at St. Martin/St. Maarten, St. John/St. Thomas, and NCL’s private island, Great Stirrup Cay. (For dates and costs of similar cruises this year, see “Guidebook,” L16.) A word to any young women who may be thinking a sports-theme cruise is the way to meet Mr. Right (or Mr. Lefty): Several players brought wives or girlfriends along. Only a few sailed solo.

But passengers had plenty of chances to mingle with the stars during the week, either informally or at scheduled activities. There were clinics led by the players, pitching contests, trivia tournaments, daily Q&A; forums, lectures on memorabilia collecting, baseball-themed movies and one afternoon-long autograph-signing session.

The personable Eric Gregg was a great hit with passengers as he described his recent 90-pound weight loss: “Now I can get a shoeshine and not have to take the guy’s word for it.”

Stan Musial, who turned 76 during the week, whipped out a harmonica at one point and urged us to sing as he played “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

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I’m a baseball fan, so I went to most of those activities and enjoyed them. But not everyone aboard the Norway had come for baseball. There were 40 honeymoon couples. There were more than a few folks who simply wanted a November tan to flaunt back home. An escorted tour group from France appeared baffled by the baseball buffs.

The non-fans could take in all the usual cruise diversions--bingo, bridge tours, bridge tournaments, boutiques, karaoke, midnight buffets and contests of all sorts. The lounges had excellent live music, ranging from big band to boomer-oriented Motown.

On a smaller ship, I would have stood out as a solo passenger. On the Norway--which is as long as the Eiffel Tower is tall, according to one guidebook--I simply blended into the casually dressed crowd. We were dispersed across 10 passenger decks with two outdoor swimming pools, a hot tub, a basketball court, three dining rooms, a two-story theater, six bars, four dance floors, a casino, children and teen areas, a beauty salon, a fitness center and an elegant spa with an indoor pool.

Unfortunately, the weather for much of the week was nasty. Pelting rain, punishing winds and high seas during the first four days postponed outdoor activities or forced them indoors. Many passengers were cabin-bound with seasickness. One blustery morning, I saw strips of bacon fly right off a man’s plate at the outdoor breakfast buffet.

Even when I’m with family, my favorite cruise activity is reading, with a one-hour workout break at midday. So the rain didn’t bother me. On the Norway, with rain chasing everyone inside, I did my reading in the public lounges because my windowless cabin was simply too depressing.

My bargain-basement address on the Viking Deck was exactly two paces wide and five paces long, with an ancient TV, a rock-hard bed and beige vinyl wallcovering that was stained in spots. It was oppressive as a single, but amazingly, it was outfitted with an upper and lower berth. The stall shower yielded a weak stream of tepid water. Worst of all, the cabin was located just below the equipment used to raise and lower the ship’s tenders. When the tenders were in use--and one morning, they were in use at 5:30--the pulleys made a banging racket that sounded like a hurricane trapped in a metal locker.

I am sure that the millionairess who lived on the Royal Viking Sun did not have a room like this. The lesson here: Economize elsewhere in your cruise spending--buy fewer souvenirs, skip the wine with dinner--but not on the room, and always get a cabin with a window. The Norway has some swell suites with floor-to-ceiling windows on its Sun Deck and Sky Deck. That’s where the VIPs were bunked.

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Dinner is traditionally the time when strangers become friends on a cruise ship, though it did not turn out that way for me.

I was assigned to a table for six in the Windward Dining Room, which has the floor space of a football field. On the first night, only three of my table mates showed up. They spoke only Spanish, and they spent the entire meal arguing among themselves.

As I waited in vain for a salad that never came, a guy dressed as a pirate barged in with a ship photographer. I shook my head politely. The photographer took aim; the pirate pressed a fake knife to my neck. I pushed the pushy pirate away, and I may have been the only person in that entire dining room to do so.

The experience was so rattling that I fled after the entree and made a beeline for the Norway’s 35-seat alternative restaurant, Le Bistro, to make a table-for-one dinner reservation for the rest of the week. It was a smart move.

Le Bistro had a more limited menu than the two main dining rooms, but its advantages were many: no theme nights, photographers or parading baked Alaskas. Pretty arches of lights framed the comfortably spaced tables. The quiet ambience was certainly more fitting for a would-be woman of mystery. Le Bistro was dim enough that my rhinestone bracelet sparkled like diamonds; a fur draped across the back of the chair would not have looked out of place.

I dined here nightly in solitary splendor because the invitation to the captain’s table never came. My chances would have been better on a smaller ship. On the Norway I was shut out by the large number of repeat passengers, who get priority.

The best meal I had all week was ashore on St. Martin/St. Maarten, the first of our three stops. When we anchored on the Dutch side, I hopped on a public bus in Philipsburg and paid $1.50 to ride to Marigot, the capital of the French side of the island, looking for a stylish lunch. I found one at a small, friendly restaurant called Chanteclair, located on Marina Port la Royale. Chanteclair’s menu--not its drink list--was posted outside, which signaled its priorities. I ordered an onion tart topped with slices of duck breast and herbed goat cheese, with a salad on the side. That, plus two glasses of wine, a bottle of San Pellegrino water, coffee and excellent profiteroles for dessert, cost $25. The rain renewed its assault before the coffee arrived. I rode back to Philipsburg on a bus filled with schoolchildren gabbing in French and Dutch. A cab ride, not nearly as atmospheric, would have cost $20 each way.

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Swimming, snorkeling and sailing were the focus of most of the shore excursions offered for St. John and St. Thomas. I chose a six-hour “champagne catamaran snorkeling sailaway” to St. John that I enjoyed immensely, although it was one of the costliest options at $87. California bubbly and rum punch flowed, a pleasant picnic lunch was served, and the sun broke through the clouds at 3:45 p.m., just as the trip was concluding. It was the first sunshine we’d seen since we’d left Miami four days earlier.

The last two days brought relief for the sun-starved. The ship’s pools were jammed with hurry-up tanners. The rescheduled speed-throw contest brought out hurlers of all ages eager to submit to the radar gun and the critical eyes of Bob Feller and Eric Gregg. Marksmen and women lined up for trapshooting.

On Great Stirrup Cay, conditions were ideal for volleyball, swimming or just snoozing in a hammock under the palm trees. Waiters circulated with trays of pin~a coladas and strawberry daiquiris. I never felt lonely on the cruise. Surrounded by 2,200 other people, I could be as outgoing or as introverted as I wished.

I didn’t have to worry about the dog or the house because my husband was at home. I didn’t have to worry about my husband because the kids spent the week with him to keep him company. Did I miss them? Ask me about my $233 phone bill.

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GUIDEBOOK

Shipboard Solitaire

The ship: The Norway is operated by Norwegian Cruise Lines. Last refurbished in 1996, its capacity is 2,032. It has two dining rooms, each with early and late assigned seating; one restaurant-style dining room is available by reservation. Vegetarian and reduced-calorie options available. Smoking permitted on one side of the ship and in designated lounge areas. Dress is largely casual, with two formal evenings on seven-day cruises.

Itineraries: Seven-day cruises in the eastern and western Caribbean, round-trip from Miami. Eastern Caribbean cruises depart on Saturdays through April 1998, stopping at St. Martin/St. Maarten, St. John/St. Thomas, and NCL’s private island, Great Stirrup Cay. Western Caribbean cruises are scheduled for Sept. 27 and Nov. 1, 1997, and Oct. 31, 1998. These stop at Ocho Rios, Jamaica; Grand Cayman; Cozumel, Mexico; and Great Stirrup Cay.

Theme cruises on the Norway: Dixieland cruise (Sept. 27), fitness cruise (Oct. 11), jazz (Oct. 25 and Nov. 1), country music (Nov. 15 and Jan. 10, 1998), big band (Nov. 22 and March 21, 1998), blues (Dec. 13). For more information on celebrity guests closer to sailing dates, contact your travel agent.

Cost: Advertised per-person, double-occupancy rates from $1,299 for cheapest inside cabins, except holidays; round-trip air fare to Miami included. Many sailings are discounted at half that.

For more information: Norwegian Cruise Line, 7665 Corporate Center Drive, Miami, FL 33126; telephone (800) 327-7030.