My Year Away: World Cruise Edition.

First, I went on Sabbatical. Then I Retired. And, now I'm on my first Cruise Around the World!

Tag Archives: Cruising


by 1 Comment

And I Thought I Was Special.

A few days ago, we hit a milestone day on the World Cruise for two reasons. 1. We have spent over 100 consecutive days on our cruise, and, 2. I reached the highest loyalty status for Holland America. Five Stars! Woo Hoo.

As a previous “4 Star,” I already received many important loyalty perks, such as priority boarding as well as half off of “Sommelier Wine Packages.” (Given that the profit margins for wines are astronomical on cruise ships, this brings them closer to a normal restaurant price.) But, most important of all, when you hit 4 Star, you get unlimited FREE LAUNDRY. I can’t overstate this benefit enough. With free laundry, we send out our laundry any time we want as often as we want. We can send specific instructions for clothes care and they follow the instructions to a T. We can send out our sweaty pickleball clothes every single day, without a care in the world. Except one time, we got a special message from the laundry supervisor. (I didn’t even know there was such a position.) Anyway, he was adamant that we meet with him to discuss an important issue. I assumed we were in trouble for doing too much laundry (after all, we play a lot of pickleball on board). But, no. He wanted to discuss one of the T-shirts. A press-on letter had gotten dislodged and he wanted to apologize for ruining one of Gary’s T-Shirts. I assured the bereft manager that not only was that fine, but that all of our T-shirts were basically a hot mess because of wear and tear and not to worry. However, from that time forward, when we send out our T-shirts, I include a note reminding them not to worry about their condition!

Our laundry comes back to us in a cute basket lined in tissue.

Now that I’m a 5 Star, we get a few extra perks like free dinners in the Pinnacle Grill, the specialty restaurant on board, a free day pass to the Thermal Spa and a few other minor perks. It’s not a big deal. Except (and I know this sounds silly), I am a sucker for loyalty status. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I was crestfallen when I lost my platinum sky miles status on Delta. At least I’ve been able to hold on to my Diamond Status with Hilton!

Anyway, as a 5 Star, I’m special in my own special way (a phrase our kids used to repeat when they were little). Or I thought I was. Until I met just about everyone else on this World Cruise.

These world cruisers sail a lot. I mean, A LOT. Perhaps the first clue should have been at embarkation way back in January. “Priority Boarding” takes on a whole different meaning when just about everybody on your cruise has priority boarding.

The second clue should have been when we saw fellow passengers greeting crew members and other passengers by name as soon as they boarded. They greeted them like old friends because (as I learned shortly after) that’s what they are.

The third clue should have been when I started hearing conversations like “Did you sign up for next year yet?” “Next year,” like in a World Cruise again next year?

And to think I thought we were taking a Once-in-a-Lifetime Cruise! Not even close. Two of our closest pickleball buddies, J and D, were recently inducted into the “President’s Club.” This is how naive I was about these serious cruisers. I was under the impression that the Mariner Star loyalty program was the only loyalty program with Holland America. Turns out, there is another level of loyalty that the regular “Caribbean Cruising” crowd has never heard about. I asked D when I learned she was now in the President’s Club how many days at sea were required to reach that level.

1,400 days. For you math challenged readers out there, that’s almost four years of constant cruising. But, here’s the kicker. The requirement of 1,400 days is just the minimum. You also have to be invited to join. I’m pretty sure I’ll get my Delta status back long before I ever have the opportunity to get invited into the President’s Club.

A few days ago, Gary and I shared a tour guide in Egypt with a small group put together by fellow passenger JJ. I was surprised to discover that she has no permanent address. She simply travels from cruise to cruise with an occasional break to visit family and take care of other business stateside. And this was not even her first time to visit Egypt—nor would it be her last. She will return this November!

I thought it would be rare to meet passengers who had gone on regular World Cruises but in reality, I discovered that WE were the rare ones. Our World Cruising friends seem rather surprised that this is our first World Cruise. And they are even more surprised to learn that we don’t have plans to sign up for another one any time soon.

At the beginning of this cruise, I was positive that not only would this be our first and only World Cruise, but that it might be a very long time before we took any cruise again. One-third of a year just seemed like a humongous chunk of time that impeded other plans like land travel and continuing restoration of our house in Paducah, Kentucky.

But, now that it’s just days before the end of this epic journey, surprise, surprise. We are not ready to leave. I know we have to get back to reality sooner than later. But, until that day comes, we’re going to continue to soak up every memory this cruise has brought us. This may, indeed, be our only World Cruise. Who knows? While we contemplate our future, I’m going to continue to stuff that laundry bag every chance I get!


by Leave a comment

This Port Stinks. (And that’s okay.)

We have about one month left to cruise around the world. For the most part, this journey has amazed us. We have docked in some breathtakingly beautiful ports and we’ve seen untold eye-popping gorgeous landscapes.

The sky was really this blue in Lanzarote, one of the Canary Islands we visited recently.

But, we’ve also experienced our share of “ooh, gross” ports. Sometimes I think I’ve seen enough container ships to last a lifetime. I shouldn’t be surprised. Apparently, about 60,000 container ships currently reside throughout the world, with 5,000 or so of them loaded and roaming the seas at any one time. Considering each ship can carry up to 12,000 containers, it’s only logical that we have seen a lot of ships with their containers!

We’ve also seen floating garbage barges in Thailand. We’ve spent the day docked next to a tuna processing facility in the Seychelles where they process up to two million cans of tuna PER DAY. It smelled so bad, our ship had to cancel the “dine under the stars” event for that evening. Believe me when I tell you that a tuna processing plant stinks.

This was our docking spot in Richards Bay, South Africa. Photo credit by Beth Barnes.

We even tied up at the Richards Bay (South Africa) Coal Terminal where over 50 TONS of coal is exported per year. Trust me. That much coal stinks. We’ve were covered in soot while playing pickleball up on the 11th deck. (Of course, that didn’t stop us from playing.)

It might seem strange to experience this much unpleasantness during a World Cruise. I mean, we are paying a lot of money for this fancy (and long!) vacation. It reminds me of the time we stopped in Sint Maarten during a Caribbean cruise shortly after a major hurricane had hit the island. As we walked along the roadside toward the beach, we marveled at the sailboats piled up like kindling on the shore. The devastation was enormous. Taking a rest, we sat on a park bench. I struck up a conversation with a woman who was also sitting on the bench. She was very upset. I thought she was empathizing with the residents who lost so much during the storm. But, no. She was upset because, in her words, she “didn’t come on vacation to see this mess.”

So, here is my take away on all of this. We live in a hot mess of a world. Therefore, it only makes sense that when going on a World Cruise, one should be prepared to see the world. The whole shebang of the world. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

Yes, we have explored beautiful islands. We’ve watched spinner dolphins leaping near our ship. We’ve zip lined through a rain forest. We’ve walked next to Komodo dragons. We’ve been up close and personal with volcanoes in the Canaries. We’ve seen untold tear-worthy sunsets.

But we’ve also seen piles of gunk, a gazillion containers (the mode of transportation for over 80% of the world’s goods), poverty in the extreme, and more stinky fish being processed than I ever need to see again. That’s the world. And, here’s the thing. I’m glad to see a snippet of it all.

Henry David Thoreau said, “The world is but a canvas to our imagination.” Thanks to this World Cruise, I can at least begin to paint a more realistic landscape of our planet.


by 4 Comments

Time Traveling on a World Cruise


One of our evening routines during our World Cruise is to curl up in our comfy bed and watch a movie that’s on our stateroom TV. There are about 50 movies available. Given some of the movies hold no interest to us and there are 124 days of the cruise, we often rewatch movies we’ve seen a number of times. Some of our favorite “reruns” are Top Gun: Maverick, Mafia Mama (of course!), Miss Congeniality. And JJ Abrams’ Star Trek. I’m always a bit unsettled with the scene between Spock and Spock Prime. I mean I really don’t think Spock and Spock Prime should be having a conversation with each other in the first place. But, that’s another story. But the time travel? That’s legit!

When you take a World Cruise, you go around the world. About 24,000 miles around the world. And it requires time travel to accomplish this feat in 124 days. For example, by the time we return from our cruise in May, we will have changed times zones 24 times. We will have crossed the equator four times. And, we will have even skipped a day all together. It’s enough to make your head spin.

We have traveled west since beginning our journey. Always west. When the captain announces a time change, we go back an hour. (Except twice we gained 30 minutes. Go figure.) This is great news in the morning if you want to sleep in. It’s not so great news when you’re ready for bed in the evening and you realize if you change your clock before retiring, you’ll be going to bed at 7 p.m. (Not that this ever happens to us…no…)

And it’s not just the time changes. I’m also confused with just the passing of time in general on a World Cruise. For example, we began this journey on January 4. It was the dead of winter in Paducah, Kentucky, where we live when we’re not traipsing around the world. When we boarded m/s Zuiderdam a few days later, It was 83 degrees. Summer in January! It got hotter and hotter as we journeyed through the Panama Canal on our way to South America. Weeks passed. Eventually it stopped being winter in Paducah and spring arrived (or tried to amidst the bad weather). During all that time, it was still summer for us as we entered the Southern Hemisphere.

Gary and I celebrated our birthdays on this cruise. It seemed like we celebrated twice because we enjoyed all the on-board celebrations (including a cupcake and card from Guest Services) and a cake and boisterous singing in the dining room. It was lovely. Then the next day I started getting Facebook messages from my at-home friends wishing me a happy birthday. I got a day older. Twice.

Even the concept of always “traveling west” is confusing to me. I’ve spent most of my geography life looking at flat maps. The US is on the left. Australia is on the right. We keep traveling “left, but now we’re on the “right” side. Meanwhile, we keep moving our clocks back one hour, but now we’re getting closer to our original time as we do that. Maybe Spock Prime isn’t as ‘illogical” as I originally thought.

We’re tucked into our little cocoon aboard the Zuiderdam, enjoying the freedom of being in a sort of suspended animation. It might not be as dramatic as the starship Enterprise, but it’s our own little time machine. And we like it. As we near the end of our journey (only a little over a month to go!), sometimes I wish I could slow down time. But, then again between the time zone changes, criss-crossing the equator, and trying to keep track of what day it is, perhaps this time traveller should just be content with the pace of the journey and hang on for the rest of the ride. Live long and prosper!


by Leave a comment

Eating On a World Cruise

You’ve probably heard this statistic: The average person gains a pound a day while on a cruise. I’m no math genius, but I have a hard time imagining someone gaining 124 pounds in four months during a World Cruise!

On a typical weeklong cruise (or maybe even a 10- or 14-day cruise, maybe this adage has some merit. I mean, people do like to eat while cruising! And, why not? The variety of breakfast breads alone would take over a week to sample, even if you were munching on multiple varieties every morning. It seems that on a “regular” cruise, everyone wants to make the most of every minute of every day. Whether it’s lounging around the pool, drinking beer all day, attending all the production shows, becoming a master at trivia, etc, cruise passengers do it with gusto.

This is just ONE of the areas of the breakfast breads made fresh every single day.

We’ve spent a lot of days cruising the Caribbean and have watched people eat piles of bacon (in one sitting), donuts by the dozen (hey, they’re free), and three hot dogs for lunch. Then there are those who have the “drink package,” a nifty little marketing gimmick that enables the cruise line to charge a hefty sum so guests don’t have to worry about the cost of drinks (since they already paid for them). Typically this includes about 15 drinks a day (alcohol and specialty coffees and other drinks). The cruise ship accountants are hoping that you won’t reach the 15-drink limit—and the bargain-hunting passengers want to prove them wrong. One pound a day, at this point, might seem within reach if you add all that up.

Eating out by pool is popular–especially for those who eat at the pool-side burger/hot dog joint.

One a world cruise, however, it’s different. The same food is available but the “I’ve only got a week” mentality seems absent. If you miss a favorite appetizer in the main dining room, for example, you don’t panic because you know it will most likely show up again in a few weeks.

On sea days, we try to get to the Lido before 7 a.m., both so we have time to eat and digest before we hit the pickleball courts at 8—and also so we have a shot at grabbing “our” table before the Table Swipers swoop down to claim it as “their” table. (Right now, we’re running about a 50 percent success rate.) The usual breakfast fare for me is yogurt with fruit or oatmeal and a piece (or two) of rye toast. (The rye on board is ridiculously good. I really can’t figure this out.) Once a week or so I order two eggs over medium on a piece of (you guessed it) rye toast.

Lunch can be a challenge because we are often hungry after several hours of pickleball, but we try to remember that dinner starts promptly at 5 p.m., so we don’t really need to eat a lot. I tend to rotate between a tuna fish sandwich with cheese, mayo, and lots of mustard and a small handful of chips with ketchup, or a stop at the Asian corner for some kind of fried rice. Periodically, I head to the salad station for a made-to-order salad with lots of honey mustard dressing, which is just about as insanely good as the breakfast rye toast.

Dinner in the Main Dining Room is a bit of an event so we don’t rush this. First of course is the greeting from our fabulous dining stewards. We usually eat the three courses offered (appetizer, main and dessert), but sometimes we go rogue and do things a little differently. Last night for example, I ordered the grilled pineapple with whipped ricotta and dates, but I ordered a double portion because I really love grilled pineapple. Rather than order a main dish, however, I chose the coconut shrimp appetizer, but asked for some veggies and potatoes to go with it. I finished the meal with cherry crisp and ice cream (two scoops, or “double” as our head dining steward says). I’ve gotten soup as my main a couple of times. And a few days ago, I asked for the chicken breast and vegetables without the chicken breast. The bottom line is, over all, I think we’re eating relatively normally. At least enough to ensure we won’t end our world cruise with a 124-pound weight gain!

All this sounds rather disciplined, I know, but, rest assured, if the chocolate lava cake calls my name, I have absolutely no hesitation in answering the call.

Virginia Wolf said, “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.” I think, perhaps, Virginia Wolf might have enjoyed the food offered on a World Cruise.


by Leave a comment

When Passengers on a World Cruise don’t Go Around the World

I probably should have known this earlier, but when you go on a World Cruise, only some of the people on board are traveling around the whole world with you. Others are onboard for just one or two legs of the voyage. It helps explain why, in the early days of the journey, the common question we heard all over the ship was “How long are you on for?” If the response was anything other than “the whole time,” a long discussion would ensue about travel plans. It seemed to me that the rarest answer was “the whole time.” In other words, a bunch of passengers ended their trip in Sydney while a bunch of passengers began their trip there. The same thing will happen in Singapore in a few days, then Cape Town, and, finally, Athens. While it’s difficult to get accurate numbers, the most common response I have heard from the crew is that about 1,400 passengers are taking some leg of the journey at some time and 600 of those are on “for the whole time.”

And it’s not just the passengers who come and go. For example, about 100 new crew joined the ship in Sydney, which meant about that many left as well. Entertainers also come and go at each stop.

None of this is a big deal, except it is. As I wrote in a post earlier, when we began this cruise on January 4, it seemed like everyone was trying to get organized, figuring out what 124 days on board would look like. It took awhile, but eventually a nice rhythm took hold and everyone seemed to find their place, their community. There was the pickleball community (of course!), the art group, the dance group, the bridge group, the Tai Chi group, the knitting group, you name it. Many entered these communities as newbies and 6 weeks later, emerged as dedicated dancers, knitters, or card players.

But once we arrived in Sydney, all that changed. And to make it even more complicated, with two days in Sydney, life on the ship was already different, but no one really noticed since we were all off the ship galavanting around the beautiful city. Sure, this “coming and going” is a “problem” that isn’t even a real problem, but it’s interesting (and a bit perplexing) nonetheless. For example, I heard one of our dinner friends explain with dismay (well good humored dismay if that’s a thing) that “the Aussies had invaded” a corner in one of the bars where he met friends before dinner. We sympathized because our favorite breakfast table was snatched by a couple who boarded in Sydney. Of course, this is not “the Aussies” fault. How would they even know? Obviously they have as much right to have a drink at the cozy corner or sit where they want to in the Lido as someone who embarked in Fort Lauderdale.

In a few days, we’ll reach Singapore and the whole process will begin again. Three of our favorite pickleball friends will disembark. Even more distressing, one of our dinner stewards is leaving! (Oh the horror!) A lot of people who embarked in Sydney will experience for the first time what it’s like to have everything topsy turvy for a few days. But then things will sort themselves out and a new rhythm will emerge. It probably won’t be better or worse. Just different.

Fortunately, our wonderful room steward, Hendra, is onboard for the whole journey!

We’ll meet new people, we’ll ask how long they’re on board, we’ll help the new pickleball players understand our paddle line up process, and we’ll even be nice to our new dining steward.

Such is the rhythm of a world cruise when it’s not even a world cruise for some!


by 1 Comment

What Happens During Sea Days on a World Cruise?

We left Easter Island a few days ago, which is really, really, really far away from absolutely anything. We are over 2,000 nautical miles from the mainland. Now, we head toward French Polynesia, which is also miles and miles away from anything.

The reality is, if you go on a World Cruise, you have a lot of sea days. If you don’t love being out in the middle of nowhere, think twice before you sign up for a World Cruise! So, what in the world does a person do on a typical day at sea when you’re traveling around the world?

First, there are all the “official” activities. Using a recent day as an example, you can get up early and do yoga, or Tai Chi. You can play pickleball (which we, of course, do!). You can take a watercolor class, or a Bridge lesson, go to a wine tasting, listen to a lecture about the importance of the year 1969 or Chaos Theory (different lectures!). You can go to a creative writing class, or participate in an Egg Walk Challenge. (I have no idea what that is, but it’s a thing.) You can attend an English Afternoon Tea, or go to the Casino Royale Game Night. And these are just a snippet of the official activities offered on a typical sea day. Phew.

But, of course, there are all sorts of “unofficial” things to do on a sea day as well. I’ve seen lots of people knitting and crocheting. (Some are really fast. We’ve been on the cruise for just a few weeks and I’ve seen at least two fairly large blanket things emerging from knitting bags.) I’ve seen a couple sit at the same table every day out by the pool, coloring in those fancy adult coloring books. They have the whole set up, including a big box of colored pencils and lights that sit on the table.

I’ve seen lots of people reading as well as some sleeping hard by the pool with open books on their bellies. I’ve seen a random woman teaching a group of other random women water aerobics every morning (and sometimes multiple times a day.) Apparently there is even a passenger offering ukulele lessons. (Thankfully, I have not heard any evidence of this yet!)

During sea days, I don’t worry about keeping busy!

So what do we do on a typical sea day? We play pickleball, of course! It’s crazy how much fun this has been. First, the court is way up on the top deck so the views of the ocean are phenomenal. Second, we are playing with a really great group of about 20 “regulars.” Some are highly skilled, and all are super nice. While we wait for our turn to play, we share our life stories, talk pickleball, and laugh. A lot. Third, Dario is our pickleball instructor/coach on board and he is amazing. We are all learning so much from him. He is equally helpful to new players as well as highly skilled players. Dario is up there on the courts with us for every sea day. We really appreciate the opportunity to work on our game in such a beautiful environment.

No filter here!

This is what the ocean looks like from our balcony.

If I’m not playing pickleball, I’m reading, solving Wordle (or other puzzles), working on my Italian, writing, or just plain relaxing.

The days are leisurely, but they also seem to fly by. A World Cruise is certainly not for everybody, but for us, right now, it’s pretty great. You’ll have to excuse me now, for my balcony and the ocean is calling!


by Leave a comment

Getting Organized On a Cruise

It’s obvious that going on a World Cruise takes preparation. Deciding which clothes to bring, for example, is obvious. But figuring out how to stuff everything into available suitcases is more of a challenge. Sure, you can bring everything, but where would you put it? A cruise ship cabin is notoriously small so organization is key.

Here’s our cabin. It’s small, but everything fits!

But for all the organizing we did before we left for the cruise, getting organized on the cruise is a whole different situation. So, here is a partial list of some of the organizing we’ve done since we boarded the Zuiderdam one week ago.

Food Organization.

You can basically eat throughout the day on a cruise, but if you plan to do anything else (now or in the future!), I don’t recommend it. So, where to eat, when to eat, and how to eat takes organization. We try to get to the Lido (the main buffet area) by 8 a.m. for breakfast. Fewer crowds; maximum time until lunch; letting the food settle before activities (ie Pickleball). We try to eat lunch on the short side of noon. Fewer crowds (although not yesterday for some reason); maximum time until dinner; and we’re hungry after playing Pickleball. We have “fixed dining” at 5 p.m. in the dining room (known as the MDR). We want to make sure we have an appetite by then so the challenge is eating enough for lunch, but not too much even if we’re hungry.

Activity Organization.

This is still a work in progress but we have over 100 days left to get the rhythm right! Playing Pickleball is the clear priority, which means finding the right time to play with the right people. With the wind, the rocking ship, and the high temperatures, we can’t play as long as we do with our Pickleball friends in Paducah, but we’re starting to figure it out. So far, playing in the morning after breakfast but before Pickleball instruction begins seems like it might work. But afternoon Pickleball has been fun, too. We’re meeting some nice people who happen to also play pretty good Pickleball. We haven’t yet figured out the pool or whirlpools, but we will (or we won’t and who cares, really?). Meanwhile, we are only using the stairs so we do get a bit of exercise besides time on the court.

Crew Organization.

Most interesting to me is realizing that we’re not the only ones who are trying to get organized during this cruise. We’ve been on quite a few cruises in the past but the majority have been in the Caribbean and the longest has been 42 days. This World Cruise seems a lot different, particularly from what is happening on the ship. The other day, for example, we turned over our passports (Why not at embarkation? Who knows?). Supposedly we’ll get them back on February 8. The library opened several days after we set sail. I guess someone had to get the books organized. (We discovered the Sports Director putting books away the other night. Interesting.) There must have been over 100 people at the “grand opening.” It’s good to know we’re among fellow readers. We also keep hearing phrases from the crew like “we don’t know; we’ll figure it out.”

Things might still need a tad organization, but I love that the crew has found time to set fresh flowers around the ship….even at poolside like this arrangement!

And, also interesting and seemingly unique to a World Cruise, the kitchen staff comes out into the dining room at dinner while we’re finishing dessert, and spreads out among the lingering guests to chat and ask what we think. I’m not totally sure what we are supposed to say (make more zucchini soup?), but I think it’s interesting that they drop by and ask. A few nights ago, we met one of the bakers and the guy “in charge” of the fish. We mentioned to the baker, Mike, that we haven’t seen any almond croissants in the Lido at breakfast. He made a note. Say what? Almond croissants showed up at breakfast this morning! We’re one week into our cruise and it seems like we are falling into a rhythm even while we are still getting organized. We have our library books. We’re playing pickleball. We go to church on Sundays. (Yes, they have church services with a retired chaplain Over 100 people attended this morning.) We’re meeting people (but not too many!). We’re sleeping well. We’re staying out of cold weather. Things could be a whole lot worse, that is for sure!


by Leave a comment

How About a World Cruise?

Welcome to my revived blog! It’s still My Year Away, but this go-round it comes with the tagline “World Cruise Edition.” Yup, the hubs and I are going to sail around the world!

Here’s how it happened. We were about halfway through our 42-day get-away-from-winter Caribbean cruise way back in ’23. As we were getting ready for dinner, Gary looked at me and said, “For a minute there, I forgot we were on vacation. I just thought, ‘This is it. This is what we do. We live on a cruise ship.’” To say this surprised me would be an understatement because Gary was a reluctant-to-cruise kind of guy. But here’s the clincher. He followed up this observation with “And I thought that ‘living here’ was just fine.”

So, of course, I pounced.

“Well, what would you think of a really long cruise someday. Like really long. Like a 4-month round-the-world cruise?”

Silence. “Hmm. Yeah, I could do that.”

At the time, retirement was still pretty new to us and we were trying to figure out how to divide work time (restoring our historic house in Paducah, KY) and travel time. We figured we would only go on one world cruise (they are crazy expensive, after all), so the big question was “When?”

Celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary seemed like the obvious choice. After all, for our 40th, we took our first transatlantic cruise with a 3-week stay afterwards in Italy. It would be tough to top that. A world cruise certainly would. So that was that.

Here we are, getting ready to leave on our transatlantic cruise for our 4oth anniversary in 2017.

Except it wasn’t. The more we thought about it, the more we concluded that sooner might be better. (Not to be depressing, but there is a little bit of “it’s all downhill from here” realization when one reaches a certain age.) So the next thing I knew, we booked the cruise! We won’t quite have reached our 50th anniversary during this voyage, but Gary will celebrate his 70th birthday, which is pretty epic!

It’s hard to believe, but our World Cruise is fast approaching. We’ve been packing (Yes, we are bringing our pickleball paddles!). We’ve also been signing up for excursions. Ooh! The Maori statues on Easter Island Yes, please! Riding camels to a volcano! A cable car through the rain forest in Australia! Walking with Komodo dragons! We’re doing all of that and more.

Here’s our pile of ‘necessaries’!

We’ll visit about 40 different countries over our 124-day journey so there ought to be a lot to write about. (And just being on a cruise ship offers opportunities for reflection and observations.) If you’ve stumbled on this blog, I hope you’ll consider following along. And, if you’re a long-time subscriber, thanks for hanging in there for all these years.

As St. Augustine so wisely has stated: “The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.” Circumnavigating the world in 2025 should make an spectacular Chapter One.


by 2 Comments

I Went on a Cruise. By Myself.

Yeah, so I thought that was the story. And then the COVID-19 crisis got real.

The virus was just starting to rear its ugly head in my little world of academe while I counted the days until spring break. First, there were the students who told me their spring break plans included hopping on cheap flights to Europe to party with their study abroad friends who were being called back to the U.S. (So much for social distancing.) Then there was the reality that I had to cancel my travel writing and photography class in Rome in May—which meant my Italian vacation afterwards was also doubtful.

With future plans uncertain, I drove down to Fort Lauderdale to take the last cruise on Holland America’s Nieuw Statendam. Of course, at the time, I didn’t know it would be the ship’s last hurrah for the foreseeable future. I just thought it was going to be a run-of-the-mill “Hey, I’m going on a cruise by myself!” experience.

The first hint that this cruise would be different from my others was at embarkation.  I stood in line with 2,300 other passengers as we all waited to get our temperatures taken. It took an hour, but no one seemed to mind. Plus, I liked the idea of starting this cruise with some assurances that everyone was healthy.

Once on board, all the usual excitement before sail-away was in full swing. I explored the ship. I unpacked. I attended the mandatory muster drill. I met my friendly room stewards. Then, finally, it was time to literally sail into the sunset as the captain turned the bow toward the Caribbean. We all seemed blissfully unaware of the rough seas to come.

The calm before the storm.

A few hours later, the captain warned us that “weather” was approaching. And it would be turbulent. Even with the stabilizers, the ship rocked and rolled for a couple of days. And then finally by the third day, the sea was becalm. And all was right with the world.

Except of course, it wasn’t. Because, while the seas may have calmed in the Caribbean, the rough seas at home were only beginning.

Being alone on a cruise would be interesting in normal times, but navigating my feelings in uncharted territory made me feel distant and helpless in ways I hadn’t experienced before.  

The ship had live TV so I was able to watch the economy go belly up right before my eyes. What else was happening at home? I’d simply have to wait until we docked somewhere and I could get an Internet connection. I found it in the Dominican Republic at a café while I sipped pineapple juice. A WhatsApp call to the hubster brought me up to date quickly. 1. He made to it to our new apartment in Paducah (so we could stop relying on Airbnbs during house renovations). 2. The air mattress was okay, but I could have sent a few more dishes.  3. My university has shut down. Oh, and 4. A car ran pell-mell into our front yard, knocking out our side front metal fence, a front brick pillar, a crepe myrtle, and a few other things. But, no worries: we were still having the open house.

So, all that happened the week I took a cruise by myself.  The juxtaposition of tranquility and chaos was profound. This was my 6th cruise with Holland America. I’ve always appreciated the low-key (some might say boring) approach to cruising with HAL, but never was it more appreciated than in the middle of a galactic meltdown.

Docking in Key West was lovely. It’s hard to grasp a pandemic when this is your view.

For no logical reason, I’ve wondered what it would be like to take a cruise by myself.  As cruises go, it was pretty much everything I had hoped it might be (except for the world-wide plague). I met some interesting people, but not too many. I ate all my meals by myself and it didn’t seem weird. The food was spectacular. I think it’s been the best I’ve ever eaten on a HAL ship. Many of the crew throughout the ship called me by name and always wanted to know how I was faring being all alone.

I’ve written before about the good and the bad of taking a cruise, and I’ve got to say that the last cruise of the Nieuw Statendam was spectacular.

I’ve been home a week now. It’s mind-boggling how life has changed. I’m washing my hands a lot. I’m staying six feet away from everyone. I’m working in the virtual world, attending virtual university meetings, posting virtual lectures, pretending that I know what I’m doing in this new topsy-turvy world. I’m not looking at our retirement funds. And I’m trying to grapple with the fact that I may have to work longer than I hoped. I’m praying for all the small business owners out there who are on the verge of losing everything.  I’m trying hard not to be too sad that I’m not going to teach in Italy in May. I’m adjusting to take-out options.   

I may be losing my grip, but I’m still holding on to hope. One of my favorite books of the Bible is Ecclesiastes for its practical and, often, blunt advice. Here’s my verse for today: “But he who is joined with all the living has hope, for a living dog is better than a dead lion.” One thing COVID-19 has shown me is that we, indeed are “joined with the living.” Rich or poor, educated or dumb as dirt, Republican or Democrat.

So, there’s really nothing to do but carry on. I continue to teach and do all the other things a professor does. I’m still studying Italian believing that I will get back there sooner than later. I’m remembering my lovely serene solo cruise of just a few days ago. And, I’m planning the next one.


by 1 Comment

Change, Change, Change.

It’s Saturday morning. The sun peaks above the horizon. The egrets leave their nighttime perches and line up for a trip to who knows where. It’s dead calm outside. A perfect morning for a row on Battery Creek, near downtown Beaufort, SC. This is a course I have rowed for about a decade. Meandering and beautiful—especially during a calm morning at slack tide. Exactly like this morning. Most likely a couple of 8+s will launch with varying skill levels, but filled with a highly enthusiastic gaggle of rowers. These are my people.

Who wouldn’t want to row in these waters?

Except this morning, I’m not there. Looks like I won’t be there next weekend, either. It’s hard to type these words, let alone say them out loud, but here goes. I’m not rowing now. I have to add the word “now,” because I want to leave a crack in the rowing door open. You know, just in case something changes.

But I guess I have finally owned up to the reality. Life is going in a different direction for me now and it’s time I acknowledge that.

It was a slow realization. Multiple hurricanes and a horrendous flood disrupted my rowing opportunities for a while. Then came the fateful morning row when I felt something not-quite-right in my left hamstring, resulting in a ginormous hematoma around my sitz bones, which made sitting in a rowing shell beyond painful. (And, thus, contributed to my decision to sell my racing shell.)  The achalasia diagnosis upended all sorts of parts of my life as well, not the least of which, was rowing.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad things that pushed rowing toward the bottom of the priority pile. Discovering an obsession with travelling to Italy meant limited rowing time in the summer. Buying a Big Brick House in Paducah, KY, for the restoration project of a lifetime grabbed the rest of the summer (and, perhaps, all the summers to come!). Discovering other fun things to do during spring break, like traversing Caribbean islands on a cruise ship, took away another prime week. And, so it continued, until I realized I wasn’t rowing very much. And, turns out, I didn’t miss it as much as I thought I would.

Even if I’m not rowing, I am drawn to water. The Tiber River in Rome is no exception.

So. I guess I’m a former rower now. After about 20 years, it’s hard to say good-bye. But it’s time. So, goodbye, and thanks to my four rowing clubs.

Beaufort Rowing Club. These rowers are the best. Some of their technique might drive me nuts, but I so appreciate how accepting this club has been to me—and to anyone who wants to row here. Other clubs should emulate BRC. Thanks for letting me be a part of this club for 10 years, Ken, Paul, Judy, Bill and the rest.

Columbia Rowing Club. The hubster and I wouldn’t have moved to SC for my job if there hadn’t been a rowing club in Columbia. I fondly remember the evening rows in my single with my rowing buddy, Laura. And, I loved rowing the quad with John, Marty and Brenda. We had some serious moments of run.

Nashville Rowing Club. Helping to start this club was hard work. But when you want to row and there is no one to row with, you do what you have to do. The club is now huge and doing incredibly well, but back in 2005, all there was, was me, and an old 4+ that I purchased sight unseen from Georgia Tech. How I found Erika, Joy, and Stephanie to row in that 4+ with me remains a mystery, but it was a time of magical rowing in a less-than-desirable situation. Erika was an emergency room orthopedic surgeon who would come to an early morning practice after operating all night. She was the most competitive rower I have ever had the privilege of knowing. As the stroke, Erika took us to places I didn’t even know were possible. Sitting at #3, Joy was a surgical resident at Vanderbilt and former varsity Virginia rower who was over 6 feet tall. Her schedule left no time for rowing, but somehow, she showed up enough times that we were able to practice for the Head of the Hooch head race. This is the only time I have rowed behind a woman taller than me. Rowing behind Joy was, well, a Joy. And then there was the bow, Stephanie, a recent Vandy grad, who barely pushed 5 feet. I still can’t figure out how she rowed like a tall person, but that girl rowed long. No question that at #2, I was the weak link in the boat, but these women didn’t complain. Maybe it was because I owned the boat. Or, maybe it was because, for whatever reason, when we rowed together, we flew.

Carolina Masters. And, this leads me to the Carolina Masters, my club in Chapel Hill, NC, where my rowing career began. I am thankful to a former student (and university rower) who encouraged me to go to a Learn-to-Row clinic because she thought I “looked like a rower.” I’m thankful to Julie, our volunteer coach, who was patient and encouraging, and helped me realize that I could be a decent rower. And, Ruth, who rowed in the pair with me in the dead of winter when no one was all that excited to row with me.  And the other Julie who also rowed in the pair with me when she didn’t have to. And all the rowers who were a part of those exciting years of racing—especially that second place nail-biter of a race at the Hooch.

You can see in our faces how seriously we took racing. In this boat, I had the privilege to row behind Julie, the best coach I ever had.
We were just a few seconds behind the #1 boat, but it was probably the most fun I’ve ever had racing. Standing on the podum for the medal ceremony was fun too!

And, then there’s Patti, my rowing soulmate. Patti and I were starting to become friends when I asked her if she might be interested in taking a road trip with me to Maine to pick up a single—an old restored wooden racing shell from the ‘70s. I didn’t even know how to row a single yet, but somehow, we both thought this was an excellent idea. We drove from Chapel Hill to Thomaston, Maine, and back again in four days with a stop in Philadelphia to pick up a former Olympian’s rowing shell that needed restoring. Having never transported a boat before, starting in Philly, and driving through cities like New York and Boston was challenging to say the least, but Patti never doubted for a minute that I could do it. We talked about everything over those four days (and, I mean EVERYTHING).  From that trip on, we drove together to racing venues, rowed side by side in our singles during our weekly “chat and rows,” talked about rowing until there was nothing left to say about rowing—and then talked about it some more. For me, rowing means Patti. And it always will.

Patti and I were frezzing in between our races, but that didn’t keep us from have a blast.

I guess you can tell that rowing has had an impact on my life. But, as I’ve been learning recently, just because you love something doesn’t mean that it must stay the same. Living at the beach part of each week, I see the ocean, the beach, and the tidal creeks. They are ever changing whether by erosion, storms, king tides, or anything else that nature throws. We have a lot of birds on Harbor Island, but they change, too.  Sometimes, it’s the ospreys who capture our attention. Sometimes it’s the pelicans perched at the Harbor Bridge. Now, it’s the migrating birds who join us for winter.

We change, too. I love rowing. But I guess I love other things more now. And, that’s okay. I used to think Aretha Franklin’s classic song was called “Change, Change, Change.” Okay, so I understand now that “Change of Fools” makes no sense whatsoever, but still, “change, change, change” could—and perhaps, should—be our anthem.  Bob Dylan once said that there is “nothing so stable as change.” And with that, I say The Beat Goes On.