“You do realize our Caribbean Cruise is during the hurricane season,” remarked my husband John a couple of months after our trip was booked and paid for. I shrugged it off with my usual optimistic thoughts. Besides, he was the one who had chosen this particular cruise!
After we’d visited Aruba and Curacao, the captain made an announcement: “We’re heading further south than usual en route to Grenada. You’ll be able to see the coast of Venezuela off in the distance.” The reason? Hurricane Tomas had arisen. It would affect us throughout the cruise. On Barbados our tour bus was turned back twice – drooping power lines and downed trees almost brushed its edges on one detour. Our shore excursion by bus on St. Vincent was unable to reach Fort Charlotte and, on some of our stops, the bus driver used his radio to help people on different sides of the island get in touch with each other. At the Botanical Gardens a small army of workers were raking the debris into manageable piles. Few buildings were seriously damaged in the areas we saw, but our tours avoided the worst hit places.
Our huge ship, carrying some 3000 passengers and crew, rode the surging sea well. Some waves crashed almost as high as our deck 8 balcony. From here we saw tropical storms, many of which the ship avoided. Rainbows often appeared as the showers ended. While I was off the ship and waiting for my snorkelling tour to begin in Antigua, the skies opened. People dashed for any available cover, umbrellas appeared out of nowhere but I did not move as I was already in bathing attire. Eventually, feeling rather alone, I moved closer to the ship’s towering, protective side. There two local gals, tour guides, were shivering! The temperature was never less than 80 degrees F (over 26 Celsius) – but these smartly-dressed young ladies were freezing in this tropical downpour. On our last night at sea, dressed in formal (for us!) attire, I had some trouble keeping my balance as we walked the ship’s length from our stateroom at the front of the ship to the dining area at the stern.
“We’re changing our route.” Another announcement came from the captain as the final days of our 14 day cruise approached. Santo Domingo, a port Christopher Columbus had visited, and Grand Turk disappeared from our itinerary. Puerto Rico was substituted. What a to-do followed when that announcement was repeated in Spanish. The following morning I met a gal who was due at work in Santo Domingo the day after we were supposed to arrive. She and 75 other passengers who had expected to disembark there had to be flown home from Puerto Rico. I’d signed up for snorkelling at Grand Turk – but, what a wise choice our ship’s officers had made: Hurricane Tomas hit the Turks and Caicos Islands the very morning we would have arrived. When viewing Aruba’s reefs from a submarine, and snorkelling above others at Antigua, I saw many hard corals totally broken up by wild waves.
While its effects are not always pretty, I love the wind. Circling the ship on the deck I’d brace myself as I approached the bow, revelling in its force, but hanging onto any rail that was handy! At the stern I admired the beautiful blue/green/teal colour of the water churning out behind our vessel. At night the ship’s lights enhanced the white foam of the waves crashing against its sides. We were a tiny island afloat in nature’s not-always-peaceful paradise.
