How to Navigate a New Ship’s Bumpy Turf

Last summer, excited about the growing number of new cruise ships and looking for a way to celebrate our youngest’s graduation from high school, I lobbied to take an inaugural cruise. The Millennium, Celebrity Cruises’ newest and largest ship, was to be launched June 17 on a Baltic route. As a veteran of more than half a dozen cruises, I thought an inaugural trip sounded fun.

But my husband, Steve, ever the family pragmatist, was leery. “Think of it this way,” he said. “You’re moving into a new house, inviting 2,000 paying guests to visit while you unpack. And, oh, yes, your house just happens to be a 91,000-ton floating hotel with a new gas turbine engine on its maiden voyage.”

So we compromised and signed up for the second trip, a July 1 sailing originating in Amsterdam and visiting Oslo; Stockholm; Helsinki, Finland; St. Petersburg, Russia; Tallinn, Estonia; Gdynia, Poland; Rostock, Germany; and Copenhagen before returning to Amsterdam on July 15.

All seemed well until we received a phone call from Evelyn Hartley, our travel agent: Had we heard? The inaugural Millennium cruise had been canceled, the passengers’ money refunded, and each was given a coupon good for another Celebrity cruise within the next 18 months.

So there we were, Steve, sons Kevin and Brendan and me, the unwitting and unwilling inaugural cruisers, despite our best intentions. With 55 new ships to be launched by 2005, according to Cruise Lines International Assn., here’s some advice for those who are taking an inaugural cruise:

* Don’t expect the cruise company to make a fuss because it’s an inaugural cruise. Millennium passengers received a little decorative box the last night, but otherwise, there was little recognition that the cruise was unique. Because we had no expectations, we weren’t bothered, but some of the other cruisers were expecting more--streamers at departure, free drinks upon embarkation, flowers in the staterooms or complimentary commemorative photographs--and they complained about it when they got none of those things.

* Don’t be surprised when some features advertised in the brochure aren’t ready. Some of the problems were quickly rectified: The scanty collection of books in the library multiplied overnight; the golf simulation room, which looked like a dismantled movie set the first day, was in business by the end of the cruise; and the neat piles of paneling stacked in the halls slowly shrank.

But other issues remained throughout the cruise: The Tower Teen night club was changed to a plant conservatory and boutique, and the reading lights never were installed in the library.

* Expect periodic inconveniences. Millennium had a variety of electrical problems: elevators that randomly stopped working; banks of running machines that halted suddenly, catapulting the runners into the control panels; and lights in one of the smaller nightclubs that went out for half an hour. To Celebrity’s credit, the staff worked hard and discreetly to fix the problems (including the workman, complete with workbench, welding torch and mask, I ran across at 3 a.m. during one of my walkabouts), and by the fifth day, the problems seemed largely resolved.

* Entertainment might be uneven as the staff finds its sea legs. The cruise director’s relief was palpable after the first full-scale dance production went off without a hitch, but the comedian with the risque routine received a less-than-warm reception and soon disappeared. Stewart B. Nelson, the guest oceanographer with a passion for Russian history, was such a hit with his talks about Peter the Great and the Baltic Sea that he was scheduled for additional impromptu talks. The Cinema and Conference Center theater wasn’t ready, so the movies were moved to a limited schedule of afternoon showings in the cavernous Celebrity Theater. And the most incongruent entertainment I saw was “Marijuana and the Cocaine--A Socio-Political Dilemma,” a presentation that started with a film I realized I’d last seen in junior high school.

* Be prepared for more serious problems. One morning, the captain announced he was shutting down the engines to diagnose an unspecified problem. We had noticed nothing other than a pronounced shudder as the ship reversed as it left port the previous evening. Those next five hours after the captain’s announcement were eerily quiet on deck without the normal engine vibrations. Below deck, rumors flew and ranged from “They’re going to tow us into the nearest port” and “They struck the bottom and broke a propeller” to “They’re canceling the cruise and sending us all home.” Finally, the captain announced we’d have to redirect to Rostock for repairs and cancel our Stockholm stop. This led to an entertaining scene: The largely U.S. clientele circulated a petition demanding the reinstatement of Stockholm. I can only imagine our Greek captain’s reaction when he received this uniquely American document. Celebrity came through, reorganizing the itinerary to get us to Stockholm. (Engine problems continue to follow the Millennium. Late last month, Celebrity announced it would dry-dock the ship for two weeks in April to fix a problem with a propulsion unit.)

For all of the problems, there are definite advantages to being on an inaugural cruise. Among them:

* There is something undeniably appealing about being the first to do something. Although Steve and I like to think of ourselves as sophisticated travelers, we felt it too, from our first view of the huge majestic ship at its dock in Amsterdam to the slight smugness we felt at having been the first group to occupy it.

* Many of the crew members were seasoned Celebrity employees who had bid to be on the Millennium, and their professionalism and eagerness to please were obvious. One man mentioned that he wanted to play paddle tennis. Two days later it appeared on the daily activity list. The aerobic schedule was rearranged to accommodate the regulars’ shore excursions. One day, Brendan, a vegetarian, asked wistfully for a veggie-burger at the poolside grill. The chef’s assistant disappeared for 10 minutes, returning triumphantly with a box of garden burgers that became, in essence, my son’s personal stash for the rest of the trip.

* The novelty and drama of the situation brought the passengers together in a way that’s unusual for a cruise. Strangers would easily fall into discussion in the hallways, waiting for elevators, sitting next to one another at the pool. “Where were you when the captain announced the ship was stopping?” and tales of elevator woes were common conversation starters. When the cruise director announced that Stockholm had been reinstated, the cheer that went up in the public areas of the ship would have done a football stadium proud.

* Although the cruise company might not have made a big deal about the inaugural cruise, the people in the ports we visited did. In port after port, people from neighboring towns came, many with families carrying picnic lunches to make a day of watching the activity surrounding the Millennium. Our first night out, all along the waterways leading from Amsterdam to the ocean, people parked, gawked, waved and blared their horns as the Millennium moved past.

All in all was, it worth it? Would I recommend taking an inaugural cruise? It depends. If you’re going on a cruise to relax and have everything taken care of and the last thing you want is any surprises, maybe you should wait. But if you’re one of those travelers who finds regular cruising a bit staid and predictable and who subscribes to Kurt Vonnegut’s saying “Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God,” I’d say yes.

Will we go on another? Well, there’s this inaugural cruise in the Caribbean I have my eye on . . .