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The Dream? Or the Nightmare? (or why I may give up cruising?)


SailorJack
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We arrived in Buenos Aires on a direct flight from Atlanta and cleared customs in less than 15 minutes. Immediately outside the custom area we found a kiosk where we hired a Remise (for $27) to take us to our downtown hotel.

In less than an hour from landing, we had gotten our bags, cleared customs, hired a car, and were actually in our room at the Dazzler Libertad Hotel preparing for a short nap after the overnight flight. So far this was the best cruise ever!

Apparently, however, “Dazzler” is Spanish for “noisy plumbing and thin walls”. I know this because in the room next door was either (a) someone suffering from severe gastrointestinal distress, or (b) a family of approximately 12 to14 people.

Abandoning any idea of a nap, we booked a tour of the city for $14. On the tour we saw, well lets face it, we saw…. not much. We are all adults here and can handle the truth. There is nothing to see in Buenos Aires. Cairo has the Pyramids of Gaza, Rio has Sugarloaf, New York has the Statue of Liberty, Paris – the Eiffel Tower, and London has Big Ben. Honestly, what have you ever waited all your life to see in Buenos Aires? Certainly not beef…Argentina ships 20,000 tons of beef to the US each year and you can find good Argentinean restaurants in any big city. And not the Tango…I have seen better Tango dancing on Dancing with the Stars than in the “Dinner and Tango” shows in BA.

Well, OK, I’ll grant you there is Evita Peron’s tomb. But most tours don’t stop there and most people confuse Evita with Madonna singing “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina”.

Now, don’t get me wrong, for $14 take the tour and get a flavor of the city, just don’t expect Paris. (P.S. Evita’s tomb was not that impressive and she doesn’t even get top billing – her name is the fourth one down on the list of people in the crypt.)

That said, we did have dinner that night at the La Chacra Restaurante. SailorJill and I both ordered the Special Tenderloin. It arrived hot and steaming, but it was the biggest piece of meat I have ever seen that didn’t have four legs and a bell around its neck. It took three waiters and a lift truck to get it up on our plates and there was absolutely no way we could have come close to eating all of it. However, we did our best and then donated the remainder to the Argentinian Olympic Sumo Wrestling Team.

OK, so maybe Argentinean beef is something so see in BA.

But I digress.

Day 1 – Buenos Aires

If any one has ever seen a Three Stooges Movie they have a head start in picturing the boarding process for the Dream – only the boarding process lasted twice as long as the movie. The process is still far too painful to recount, but I believe that it was this lack of organization that was the genesis of what was to come.

Life Boat Drill

Those of you who may have read my review of our transatlantic cruise aboard the RCL Brilliance of the Seas last May understand my dismay over lifeboat drills. The drill aboard the Dream met my expectations.

I expect the drill to be somewhat long as getting into a lifeboat is an important aspect of sailing, especially if you happen to be on the Dream. I can also (maybe) understand that it must be repeated in Spanish, but then French, and then German? I’ve read novels by Tolstoy in the time it took to go through the drill in four languages.

But when we started in on the ship’s smoking policy and then the policy about open flames it became dangerous. We were standing on the open deck in 90-degree weather with life vests attached when certain citizens who are heat sensitive began to fail. Several people at our station had to be taken into the ship to avoid collapsing on deck.

But when we got to the German version of shower safety (Achtung! Ist verboten begetten in der kliene geshowerstallen mit der grosse zexy frau) I began to feel that Nancy Pelosi’s position on waterboarding may be in error.

Day 2 – Montevideo

We awoke in Montevideo under cloudy skys and went ashore to see the city. We ran into a crusty Canuck and his wife and agreed to see if we could get a group together to get a discount on a tour. Now I know most cruisers are used to being harried by local entrepreneurs selling tours, but not many were prepared for a sales pitch from a large, burly, Dutch accented Canuck wearing a jacket with a large Canadian Flag.

But he did it…and the group he put together became firm friends for the rest of the cruise – eating together, drinking together, and touring together in other cities. I would not mind cruising (and hopefully will) cruise with anyone of them again. Assuming, of course, that they will set foot on another cruise ship.

We found a delightful guide and driver and, for $20, saw the colorful and wonderful city of Montevideo.

One of our last stops on the tour was the Parliament Building – a spectacular edifice which housed the legislative branch of the Uruguayan government. Entering the building, we were immediately impressed by the 8 members of an elite Uruguayan military unit that were standing guard over the glass encased Constitution of Uruguay. They were easily equal in presence and demeanor to the guards one sees at Buckingham Palace.

Our arrival was most fortuitous, as we were present during the Changing of the Guard. A squad of 8 impressively dressed soldiers marched in perfect step into the Rotunda and came to ramrod attention. The Sergeant of the Guard barked out “Fix Bayonets” and in complete unison, the eight soldiers slapped their sheaths, withdrew their bayonets, and in a staccato of rapid clicks, affixed them to their rifles.

Well, actually, seven of them acted in perfect unison. The eighth soldier could not get his bayonet out of the sheath. As discretely as possible, he yanked and tugged at the thing as the face of the Sergeant became redder and redder. Under that dreadful glare, he abandoned all efforts at subtlety, and grabbed at the sheath with both hands and tried by pure force of effort to pry the weapon from its holder.

I saw the Sergeant’s jaw drop and the look of startled panic on the Private’s face as the forgotten rifle slowly fell to the Rotunda’s hard marble floor.

I guess, up to that point, I never guessed that the rifles were actually loaded…having thought that they were basically, oh, I don’t know…empty? I think that during the few seconds it took for the carbine to fall to the floor, the young Private knew that life, as he had known it, was forever gone. I suspect that he knew, even in that brief moment, that his next assignment would probably be guarding the unmanned weather station on the windswept Isla del Diablo.

If I had had an Easy Button, I would have gladly given it to him.

Day 2 (Continued) –Montevideo

We departed Montevideo under clear skys at 5:00 PM amid anticipation of an exciting day at sea as we steamed to our next Port of Call, Puerto Madryn and its famed colony of Penguins.

We had actually made it a mile or so out to sea before we rear-ended the Suzuki Grand Vitara. Well, technically speaking, I guess we first rammed the Japanese Cargo Barge, Tira Mizzou, knocking a half dozen Suzukis and an untold number of steel cargo containers into the shallow sea. It was then that we rear-ended one of the Suzukis.

As SailorJill and I looked on, the six Suzukis slowly slid, one by one, beneath the waves – sending Davy Jones a brand new set of wheels.

As you might well imagine, this turn of events caused confusion, concern and, yes, even panic among the passengers. Several of our passengers, God bless them, showed up at their Abandon Ship station wearing their life jackets. Others noted that another NCL ship, the Marco Polo had heaved to on our port side and it was rumored that it was preparing to pick up survivors. The more experienced cruisers took advantage of this confusion to move to the head of the dinner line at the Four Seasons Restaurant – a clear advantage when Free Style cruising.

After bobbing around in the estuary for several hours while the crew assessed the damage to the Dream, it was announced that with the front end of our ship now missing it would be too dangerous to put out to sea and that we would be returning to Montevideo to effect repairs and that we would continue the cruise at 4:00 PM tomorrow.

However, all the cargo containers and SUVs settled into the harbor channel, effectively closing the Port of Montevideo to all traffic – both coming and going.

So there we sat. A free open bar, lights ablaze, and the band playing on while we noted that our ship now held the record for the most Japanese tonnage sunk since 1945.

Day 3 – Off the Coast of Uruguay

Dawn finds us still at anchor somewhere near where the Graff Spee went down. The channel is still blocked. We are alone. We are isolated. We have effectively trapped the Celebrity Infinity and other ships in the harbor, while countless others ships have dropped anchor in the Platte estuary because they cannot deliver their perishables and foodstuffs to Montevideo. We have become a Pariah.

Ashore, people are making clay models of the Dream and sticking sharp needles into them. Rumors that Montevideo is running out of food and that citizens are raiding the grain silos prove false.

We consider suggesting to the Captain that under cover of coming darkness we paint over the name “Dream” on the hull and make a high speed run for the Cuban coast. But our missing front-end rules that out. We must stay and face the music.

We receive a letter from the Captain stating that NCL has revised our itinerary and that stops at the Falkland Islands, Puerto Madryn and Cape Horn have been dropped form the itinerary. In return we are granted a $300 onboard credit. It is a reasonable first offer, but I am disappointed that the visit to the Cape has been cancelled – it was the primary reason I had booked the cruise.

But such is life. Late that night we are informed that the channel is now clear and that we will be returning to Montevideo where we can effect repairs and be on our way by 4:00 PM tomorrow.

Day 4 – Montevideo

Good news. We are tied up on the dock at Montevideo. Oops, bad choice of words. We are birthed at the dock, but I can’t help but notice that we are now conspicuously close to the ships of the Uruguayan navy.

Our group from Day 1 reunites and we find the same tour guides we had on our first tour in Montevideo. Together we design a custom tour. We want to see a working Estancia, a winery, and the surrounding countryside. The cost is $20 each and we stress that we must be back by 3:00 PM as the ship is leaving at 4:00 PM.

We are back by 3:00 only to find out that the damage to the ship was more extensive than first thought and that we will not be able to leave until Thursday at 4:00.

Bad news. But on the positive side, we had a tremendous day in Montevideo. Our guides did an outstanding job in putting together a custom tour. An Estancia that was closed opened up just for us, the winery was a small family run affair and our wine tasting with Pablo and his wife – the owners – turned out to be a party. I did not know that Uruguay was making this quality of wine. The countryside tour was unique- the guides even had to stop and ask directions to get to some of the locations. We tell the guide that if we are here one more night we are coming to her house for dinner.

As we have been consigned to Mondevideo for another day, another Port has been dropped from the schedule – Ushuaia. But Cape Horn has been added back in! In addition, NCL is refunding 50% of the cruise and granting an additional $61 to our on-board account.

On a sad note, we learn that we have a new Captain. While many suspected that this might happen we had not expected any action this soon.

Day 5 – Montevideo

We awake again in Montevideo. Is it possible that I have become Bill Murray in Ground Hog Day – doomed to perpetually awake in Montevideo only to be told that we will be leaving by 4:00?

I have now been in Montevideo so long that I am considering applying for citizenship. I know now that we will never be able to leave and that the sooner SailorJill and I start our new life together the better.

Perhaps we can get jobs at the winery.

Later in the day the ship ran something called “The Mans’ Sexy Legs Contest”. The event brought back very painful memories for me from my days on another cruise.

On the cruise they were successful in rounding up women who would be judges, but were having trouble finding enough idiots to actually volunteer to show their legs. So “Rick, from the Cruise Directors Staff” started walking around the pool badgering innocent sunbathers to get up and embarrass themselves. “Rick from Cruise Directors Staff” stopped in front of my lounge and asked me to volunteer. I politely declined. He asked again. I declined more strongly. That’s when “Rick, from the Cruise Directors Staff” turned to the building audience and yelled into his microphone, “You’re not afraid are you? Come on people, let’s give him a little encouragement!” SailorJill said in would be “fun” and after being assured that all I had to do was go up and walk in front of the judges, I said I would join the other idiots.

 

When we got up front “Rick, from the Cruise Directors Staff” said we should dance and “show our moves” when our turn came. That was not what I had signed up for. When my turn came, I walked by the judges and “Rick, from the Cruise Directors Staff” started yelling into his microphone “Shake your Booty, SHAKE YOUR BOOTY”. To this day I have no idea what Booty is, but apparently it is not your middle finger.

 

Needless to say, I lost that Sexy Legs Contest and swore off ever doing that again.

Taking a late lunch around 2:00 PM the ship abruptly goes completely dark. From the direction of the kitchen comes the sound of dishes crashing, startled shouts come from the direction of the elevators, and I imagine crewmembers suddenly applying for shore leave. I pat my pocket to ensure that I have my Uruguayan immigration papers. I wonder why the Captain does not come on to tell us that all is well – just a small fire in the generator room and that he is confident it will soon be brought under control. But of course he cannot announce that – we have no power.

Later as power is restored, the new Captain comes on to tell us that all is well, but that we will not be leaving at 4:00, but at “maybe around six, six-thirty, or sevenish.” I had expected to hear “we will be leaving at 1600 hours”, or maybe “we will leaving at 8 bells”, or even “we will be sailing on the next tide”. But Sevenish? Is it possible that our new Captain is, like, from the Valley?

Day 6 – At Sea

We are finally at sea, but there are rumors that the long delay in Montevideo has seriously depleted our food supply and that we are running short of certain items. I myself have noted that there are no more lemons for tea and the ship is substituting limes and that the Four Seasons is serving more and more leftovers. But I discount the rumors as wild speculation.

Sensing that my stress level over this and other mishaps that have risen over the past several days, SailorJill suggests that maybe I try Aroma Therapy in the Spa. I am incredulous! She wants me to explore my feminine side by sitting in a roomful of women wearing terry cloth robes, their hair wrapped in towels, and their faces covered in French mud?

I explain to her that real men suck it up when the going gets tough and don’t need to seek vapid, effete panaceas. Sometimes the gulf between men and women amazes me and I am forced to explain the laws of nature to SailorJill.

Well, to make a long story short, not only did the Aroma Therapy not work, but I now find myself crossing my legs and dangling my shoes off the ends of my toes when I sit. On the positive side, I have to admit I do smell pretty good.

Day 7 – At Sea

We awake to clear skys, strong winds, and heavy seas, but we are sailing due south at normal speed and are on schedule for Punta Arenas.

No. Wait! That was yesterday. Today we are adrift in the South Atlantic Ocean with no power. The ship has gone dark. With all engines down, the rudder is unable to respond to the helm. We are captive to the currents and the winds. I fear we may befall the same fate as other ships that have sailed into the Argentinean Triangle.

I know that the crew is desperately trying to fire up the engine as I see a small wisp of smoke come out of the stacks. First it is only three small dots of smoke…then three longer dashes following by three smaller ones. But still no power to the engines.

Mercifully, a small amount of emergency power is restored and the Captain comes on the speaker and asks if anyone happens to have a spare 25,000 amp IDX Type III fuse on them.

This is the second time in three days that we have lost power and SailorJill is becoming concerned. She has long subscribed to the theory that bad things come in threes and we are now due. First was the collision at sea and now we are adrift somewhere off the coast of South America. What future adventure awaits us as we steam ever closer to the vast wilderness of Antarctica?

As the waves crash relentlessly against the ship I tried to understand why this was happening. Had we run out of fuel because of our stay in Montevideo? Had someone shot an Albatross? Is the ship pouting because it is about to be sold? One has time to ponder such issues when lost at sea.

Then with a start, I begin to wonder if the rumors of food shortages may be true when I see the entire kitchen staff fishing like crazy off the back end of the boat! I’m guessing seafood tonight.

Then, with a roar, the engines spring back to life. We are saved. Someone had a spare fuse after all.

Day 8 – Cape Horn

We are here. We have entered the Drake Passage and sailed around the Horn. It is the culmination of years of anticipation. The waters, where the Atlantic, Pacific and Antarctic Oceans meet are stunningly calm – almost like glass. We had expected heavy seas, but there is no hint of the turbulent storms that took the lives of so many sailors in the Age of Sail.

From the ship we see the Memorial erected to these brave men. It is in the form of an Albatross and reads:

I, the albatross that awaits for you at the end of the world...

I, the forgotten soul of the sailors lost that crossed Cape Horn from all the seas of the world.

But die they did not in the fierce waves,

for today towards eternity in my wings they soar

in the last crevice of the Antarctic winds

In commemoration of our rounding Cape Horn, the Captain performs a baptism ritual on the passengers. As each steps forward a ladle of really cold water is poured over the head. We are now Honorary Fugeans. I am grateful that the ceremony is not the same one used when first crossing the equator.

Day 9 – Tierra del Fuego

Today we are traversing the waters off Tierra del Fuego – which would be a really great name for a Latin Salsa Band (Ladies and Gentlemen – give it up for the Tierra del Fuegos!).

Actually, Tierra del Fuego is Spanish for “Land of Frozen Butts”. We take care not to touch any exposed metal as we hope to leave the ship some day.

As cold as it may be, the land is both spectacular and awe-inspiring. With all due respect to my home province of British Columbia, this is the most beautiful and fearsome coastline I have ever seen.

In every direction one looks there are the towering snow covered peaks of the Andes Mountains; craggy cliffs, scarred by ancient glaciers that advanced and retreated over the ages, that plunge straight down into the sea; and low lying islands that rise slowly from the frigid waters and slide back into the dark shadows of the barren coast line. Countless waterfalls, fed by the melting snows above, ease gently over the highest cliffs and, glistening like so many silvery ribbons, wend their way down the ridges and crevices, building speed as they descend, until their last dramatic fall onto the rocks below.

Nowhere is there any sign of life other than the birds and the beasts that first greeted Captain Robert Fitz Roy in 1826. This is truly the land that time has forgot.

Day 10 – Fort Williams

Today we arrive at Fort Williams, a small settlement which prides itself as being the “most southerly human settlement in the World”. Later we are to visit Punta Arenas which bills itself as “the most southerly human settlement of its size in the world”.

There appears to be a tremendous cachet to being the “most southerly” as Santiago may well claim to be “the most southerly capital of its size in the world”.

In the event that may actually be some financial advantage to this, I now modestly admit that my home in Atlanta is “the most southerly house with a pool, two magnolias, three white azaleas, two banana trees, and a broken gutter spout in the world”.

Day 14

The cruise is finally over. We had great stops in Punta Arenas, Ushuaia (which had been added back to the schedule), and Port Montt (where we got our third Captain of the trip). The trip was uneventful and the third misfortune that SailorJill feared never occurred.

But the trip has been stressful. Some people were upset that the Falkland Islands had been deleted from the schedule. ( I have to admit, I was looking forward to the Falklands – having signed up for a glass bottom boat ride so I could see the Argentinean Navy.) Others were upset over missing Puerto Madryn and the Penguin Colonies.

There had been talk of petitions, demands, sit-ins, and letters to the media, so tensions and stress were still high as people lined the halls to leave the ship. But I was confident cooler heads would prevail once we were ashore. I knew that the pushing and shoving that was occurring would soon turn to hugs and tearful goodbyes.

At least they would have until the ship announced that they had given out the wrong Chilean immigration documents and that crew members would soon circulate among the passengers to distribute the correct forms. In the meantime, no one could leave the ship until the new forms had been completed. I have to admit, I have never seen otherwise sane people start to pound on elevator doors, scream, and react so wildly to an announcement before.

I also knew that no sane member of the cruise directors staff would “circulate among the passengers” to distribute the new forms.

In the end it worked out, but this was a cruise to remember.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. I met wonderful people, visited intriguing ports, had great adventures, and even got some money back! The Dream is a good ship. It had a little misfortune - with which I have had a little fun , but in the end the worst day on a cruise is better that the best day at work.

As I got on my plane to fly back to Atlanta, I heard the three sweetest words in a travelers vocabulary – “You’ve been upgraded!”. As we circled Santiago and prepared to head north, SailorJill and I raised our champagne glasses and made a toast to our new friends, our upcoming adventures, and to whoever had the spare 25,000 amp IDX Type III fuse.

Life is good.

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This is, single-handedly, the best review of a cruise (albiet one marred with misfortune that you seemed to take with grace and humor) I have -ever- read in my years of cruising.

 

I would cruise with you any day of the week. If you are not writing for publication, you should be.

 

Good luck on your future endeavors, whether they involve cruising or some other form of trransportation. And look out for those Suzuki Grand Vitaras. ;)

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Oh. My. God.

 

DUDE.

 

You know how to write.

 

That is the funniest @#$%ing thing I have ever read on CC- including my own hilarious (to me) reviews.

 

I think the funniest part was the dots and dashes from the funnel... :D :) :D There are not enough smiley faces to express how hard I am laughing right now!!!!!!!

 

THANK YOU for the last 8 minutes of my life- you MORE THAN made up for the last three weeks of mindless bickering on CC-

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So funny I thought i was going to have an accident!!!!

I hope you dont mind but i,m printing this off so my mum can read it tomorrow{she cruises as well}

I found the bit about the blocking of the celebrity ship particularily funny as we had heard about the incident at the time and could just imagine the things that were being said, lol.

Thanks for taking the time to write such a funny,indepth review

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We arrived in Buenos Aires on a direct flight from Atlanta and cleared customs in less than 15 minutes. Immediately outside the custom area we found a kiosk where we hired a Remise (for $27) to take us to our downtown hotel.

 

In less than an hour from landing, we had gotten our bags, cleared customs, hired a car, and were actually in our room at the Dazzler Libertad Hotel preparing for a short nap after the overnight flight. So far this was the best cruise ever!

 

Apparently, however, “Dazzler” is Spanish for “noisy plumbing and thin walls”. I know this because in the room next door was either (a) someone suffering from severe gastrointestinal distress, or (b) a family of approximately 12 to14 people.

 

Abandoning any idea of a nap, we booked a tour of the city for $14. On the tour we saw, well lets face it, we saw…. not much. We are all adults here and can handle the truth. There is nothing to see in Buenos Aires. Cairo has the Pyramids of Gaza, Rio has Sugarloaf, New York has the Statue of Liberty, Paris – the Eiffel Tower, and London has Big Ben. Honestly, what have you ever waited all your life to see in Buenos Aires? Certainly not beef…Argentina ships 20,000 tons of beef to the US each year and you can find good Argentinean restaurants in any big city. And not the Tango…I have seen better Tango dancing on Dancing with the Stars than in the “Dinner and Tango” shows in BA.

 

Well, OK, I’ll grant you there is Evita Peron’s tomb. But most tours don’t stop there and most people confuse Evita with Madonna singing “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina”.

 

Now, don’t get me wrong, for $14 take the tour and get a flavor of the city, just don’t expect Paris. (P.S. Evita’s tomb was not that impressive and she doesn’t even get top billing – her name is the fourth one down on the list of people in the crypt.)

 

That said, we did have dinner that night at the La Chacra Restaurante. SailorJill and I both ordered the Special Tenderloin. It arrived hot and steaming, but it was the biggest piece of meat I have ever seen that didn’t have four legs and a bell around its neck. It took three waiters and a lift truck to get it up on our plates and there was absolutely no way we could have come close to eating all of it. However, we did our best and then donated the remainder to the Argentinian Olympic Sumo Wrestling Team.

 

OK, so maybe Argentinean beef is something so see in BA.

 

But I digress.

 

Day 1 – Buenos Aires

 

If any one has ever seen a Three Stooges Movie they have a head start in picturing the boarding process for the Dream – only the boarding process lasted twice as long as the movie. The process is still far too painful to recount, but I believe that it was this lack of organization that was the genesis of what was to come.

 

Life Boat Drill

 

Those of you who may have read my review of our transatlantic cruise aboard the RCL Brilliance of the Seas last May understand my dismay over lifeboat drills. The drill aboard the Dream met my expectations.

 

I expect the drill to be somewhat long as getting into a lifeboat is an important aspect of sailing, especially if you happen to be on the Dream. I can also (maybe) understand that it must be repeated in Spanish, but then French, and then German? I’ve read novels by Tolstoy in the time it took to go through the drill in four languages.

 

But when we started in on the ship’s smoking policy and then the policy about open flames it became dangerous. We were standing on the open deck in 90-degree weather with life vests attached when certain citizens who are heat sensitive began to fail. Several people at our station had to be taken into the ship to avoid collapsing on deck.

 

But when we got to the German version of shower safety (Achtung! Ist verboten begetten in der kliene geshowerstallen mit der grosse zexy frau) I began to feel that Nancy Pelosi’s position on waterboarding may be in error.

 

 

Day 2 – Montevideo

 

We awoke in Montevideo under cloudy skys and went ashore to see the city. We ran into a crusty Canuck and his wife and agreed to see if we could get a group together to get a discount on a tour. Now I know most cruisers are used to being harried by local entrepreneurs selling tours, but not many were prepared for a sales pitch from a large, burly, Dutch accented Canuck wearing a jacket with a large Canadian Flag.

 

But he did it…and the group he put together became firm friends for the rest of the cruise – eating together, drinking together, and touring together in other cities. I would not mind cruising (and hopefully will) cruise with anyone of them again. Assuming, of course, that they will set foot on another cruise ship.

 

We found a delightful guide and driver and, for $20, saw the colorful and wonderful city of Montevideo.

 

One of our last stops on the tour was the Parliament Building – a spectacular edifice which housed the legislative branch of the Uruguayan government. Entering the building, we were immediately impressed by the 8 members of an elite Uruguayan military unit that were standing guard over the glass encased Constitution of Uruguay. They were easily equal in presence and demeanor to the guards one sees at Buckingham Palace.

 

Our arrival was most fortuitous, as we were present during the Changing of the Guard. A squad of 8 impressively dressed soldiers marched in perfect step into the Rotunda and came to ramrod attention. The Sergeant of the Guard barked out “Fix Bayonets” and in complete unison, the eight soldiers slapped their sheaths, withdrew their bayonets, and in a staccato of rapid clicks, affixed them to their rifles.

 

Well, actually, seven of them acted in perfect unison. The eighth soldier could not get his bayonet out of the sheath. As discretely as possible, he yanked and tugged at the thing as the face of the Sergeant became redder and redder. Under that dreadful glare, he abandoned all efforts at subtlety, and grabbed at the sheath with both hands and tried by pure force of effort to pry the weapon from its holder.

 

I saw the Sergeant’s jaw drop and the look of startled panic on the Private’s face as the forgotten rifle slowly fell to the Rotunda’s hard marble floor.

 

I guess, up to that point, I never guessed that the rifles were actually loaded…having thought that they were basically, oh, I don’t know…empty? I think that during the few seconds it took for the carbine to fall to the floor, the young Private knew that life, as he had known it, was forever gone. I suspect that he knew, even in that brief moment, that his next assignment would probably be guarding the unmanned weather station on the windswept Isla del Diablo.

 

If I had had an Easy Button, I would have gladly given it to him.

 

Day 2 (Continued) –Montevideo

 

We departed Montevideo under clear skys at 5:00 PM amid anticipation of an exciting day at sea as we steamed to our next Port of Call, Puerto Madryn and its famed colony of Penguins.

 

We had actually made it a mile or so out to sea before we rear-ended the Suzuki Grand Vitara. Well, technically speaking, I guess we first rammed the Japanese Cargo Barge, Tira Mizzou, knocking a half dozen Suzukis and an untold number of steel cargo containers into the shallow sea. It was then that we rear-ended one of the Suzukis.

 

As SailorJill and I looked on, the six Suzukis slowly slid, one by one, beneath the waves – sending Davy Jones a brand new set of wheels.

 

As you might well imagine, this turn of events caused confusion, concern and, yes, even panic among the passengers. Several of our passengers, God bless them, showed up at their Abandon Ship station wearing their life jackets. Others noted that another NCL ship, the Marco Polo had heaved to on our port side and it was rumored that it was preparing to pick up survivors. The more experienced cruisers took advantage of this confusion to move to the head of the dinner line at the Four Seasons Restaurant – a clear advantage when Free Style cruising.

 

After bobbing around in the estuary for several hours while the crew assessed the damage to the Dream, it was announced that with the front end of our ship now missing it would be too dangerous to put out to sea and that we would be returning to Montevideo to effect repairs and that we would continue the cruise at 4:00 PM tomorrow.

 

However, all the cargo containers and SUVs settled into the harbor channel, effectively closing the Port of Montevideo to all traffic – both coming and going.

 

So there we sat. A free open bar, lights ablaze, and the band playing on while we noted that our ship now held the record for the most Japanese tonnage sunk since 1945.

 

Day 3 – Off the Coast of Uruguay

 

Dawn finds us still at anchor somewhere near where the Graff Spee went down. The channel is still blocked. We are alone. We are isolated. We have effectively trapped the Celebrity Infinity and other ships in the harbor, while countless others ships have dropped anchor in the Platte estuary because they cannot deliver their perishables and foodstuffs to Montevideo. We have become a Pariah.

 

Ashore, people are making clay models of the Dream and sticking sharp needles into them. Rumors that Montevideo is running out of food and that citizens are raiding the grain silos prove false.

 

We consider suggesting to the Captain that under cover of coming darkness we paint over the name “Dream” on the hull and make a high speed run for the Cuban coast. But our missing front-end rules that out. We must stay and face the music.

 

We receive a letter from the Captain stating that NCL has revised our itinerary and that stops at the Falkland Islands, Puerto Madryn and Cape Horn have been dropped form the itinerary. In return we are granted a $300 onboard credit. It is a reasonable first offer, but I am disappointed that the visit to the Cape has been cancelled – it was the primary reason I had booked the cruise.

 

But such is life. Late that night we are informed that the channel is now clear and that we will be returning to Montevideo where we can effect repairs and be on our way by 4:00 PM tomorrow.

 

Day 4 – Montevideo

 

Good news. We are tied up on the dock at Montevideo. Oops, bad choice of words. We are birthed at the dock, but I can’t help but notice that we are now conspicuously close to the ships of the Uruguayan navy.

 

Our group from Day 1 reunites and we find the same tour guides we had on our first tour in Montevideo. Together we design a custom tour. We want to see a working Estancia, a winery, and the surrounding countryside. The cost is $20 each and we stress that we must be back by 3:00 PM as the ship is leaving at 4:00 PM.

 

We are back by 3:00 only to find out that the damage to the ship was more extensive than first thought and that we will not be able to leave until Thursday at 4:00.

 

Bad news. But on the positive side, we had a tremendous day in Montevideo. Our guides did an outstanding job in putting together a custom tour. An Estancia that was closed opened up just for us, the winery was a small family run affair and our wine tasting with Pablo and his wife – the owners – turned out to be a party. I did not know that Uruguay was making this quality of wine. The countryside tour was unique- the guides even had to stop and ask directions to get to some of the locations. We tell the guide that if we are here one more night we are coming to her house for dinner.

 

As we have been consigned to Mondevideo for another day, another Port has been dropped from the schedule – Ushuaia. But Cape Horn has been added back in! In addition, NCL is refunding 50% of the cruise and granting an additional $61 to our on-board account.

 

On a sad note, we learn that we have a new Captain. While many suspected that this might happen we had not expected any action this soon.

 

 

 

Day 5 – Montevideo

 

We awake again in Montevideo. Is it possible that I have become Bill Murray in Ground Hog Day – doomed to perpetually awake in Montevideo only to be told that we will be leaving by 4:00?

 

I have now been in Montevideo so long that I am considering applying for citizenship. I know now that we will never be able to leave and that the sooner SailorJill and I start our new life together the better.

 

Perhaps we can get jobs at the winery.

 

Later in the day the ship ran something called “The Mans’ Sexy Legs Contest”. The event brought back very painful memories for me from my days on another cruise.

 

On the cruise they were successful in rounding up women who would be judges, but were having trouble finding enough idiots to actually volunteer to show their legs. So “Rick, from the Cruise Directors Staff” started walking around the pool badgering innocent sunbathers to get up and embarrass themselves. “Rick from Cruise Directors Staff” stopped in front of my lounge and asked me to volunteer. I politely declined. He asked again. I declined more strongly. That’s when “Rick, from the Cruise Directors Staff” turned to the building audience and yelled into his microphone, “You’re not afraid are you? Come on people, let’s give him a little encouragement!” SailorJill said in would be “fun” and after being assured that all I had to do was go up and walk in front of the judges, I said I would join the other idiots.

 

When we got up front “Rick, from the Cruise Directors Staff” said we should dance and “show our moves” when our turn came. That was not what I had signed up for. When my turn came, I walked by the judges and “Rick, from the Cruise Directors Staff” started yelling into his microphone “Shake your Booty, SHAKE YOUR BOOTY”. To this day I have no idea what Booty is, but apparently it is not your middle finger.

 

Needless to say, I lost that Sexy Legs Contest and swore off ever doing that again.

 

Taking a late lunch around 2:00 PM the ship abruptly goes completely dark. From the direction of the kitchen comes the sound of dishes crashing, startled shouts come from the direction of the elevators, and I imagine crewmembers suddenly applying for shore leave. I pat my pocket to ensure that I have my Uruguayan immigration papers. I wonder why the Captain does not come on to tell us that all is well – just a small fire in the generator room and that he is confident it will soon be brought under control. But of course he cannot announce that – we have no power.

 

Later as power is restored, the new Captain comes on to tell us that all is well, but that we will not be leaving at 4:00, but at “maybe around six, six-thirty, or sevenish.” I had expected to hear “we will be leaving at 1600 hours”, or maybe “we will leaving at 8 bells”, or even “we will be sailing on the next tide”. But Sevenish? Is it possible that our new Captain is, like, from the Valley?

 

Day 6 – At Sea

 

We are finally at sea, but there are rumors that the long delay in Montevideo has seriously depleted our food supply and that we are running short of certain items. I myself have noted that there are no more lemons for tea and the ship is substituting limes and that the Four Seasons is serving more and more leftovers. But I discount the rumors as wild speculation.

 

Sensing that my stress level over this and other mishaps that have risen over the past several days, SailorJill suggests that maybe I try Aroma Therapy in the Spa. I am incredulous! She wants me to explore my feminine side by sitting in a roomful of women wearing terry cloth robes, their hair wrapped in towels, and their faces covered in French mud?

 

I explain to her that real men suck it up when the going gets tough and don’t need to seek vapid, effete panaceas. Sometimes the gulf between men and women amazes me and I am forced to explain the laws of nature to SailorJill.

 

Well, to make a long story short, not only did the Aroma Therapy not work, but I now find myself crossing my legs and dangling my shoes off the ends of my toes when I sit. On the positive side, I have to admit I do smell pretty good.

 

Day 7 – At Sea

 

We awake to clear skys, strong winds, and heavy seas, but we are sailing due south at normal speed and are on schedule for Punta Arenas.

 

No. Wait! That was yesterday. Today we are adrift in the South Atlantic Ocean with no power. The ship has gone dark. With all engines down, the rudder is unable to respond to the helm. We are captive to the currents and the winds. I fear we may befall the same fate as other ships that have sailed into the Argentinean Triangle.

 

I know that the crew is desperately trying to fire up the engine as I see a small wisp of smoke come out of the stacks. First it is only three small dots of smoke…then three longer dashes following by three smaller ones. But still no power to the engines.

 

Mercifully, a small amount of emergency power is restored and the Captain comes on the speaker and asks if anyone happens to have a spare 25,000 amp IDX Type III fuse on them.

 

This is the second time in three days that we have lost power and SailorJill is becoming concerned. She has long subscribed to the theory that bad things come in threes and we are now due. First was the collision at sea and now we are adrift somewhere off the coast of South America. What future adventure awaits us as we steam ever closer to the vast wilderness of Antarctica?

 

As the waves crash relentlessly against the ship I tried to understand why this was happening. Had we run out of fuel because of our stay in Montevideo? Had someone shot an Albatross? Is the ship pouting because it is about to be sold? One has time to ponder such issues when lost at sea.

 

Then with a start, I begin to wonder if the rumors of food shortages may be true when I see the entire kitchen staff fishing like crazy off the back end of the boat! I’m guessing seafood tonight.

 

Then, with a roar, the engines spring back to life. We are saved. Someone had a spare fuse after all.

 

Day 8 – Cape Horn

 

We are here. We have entered the Drake Passage and sailed around the Horn. It is the culmination of years of anticipation. The waters, where the Atlantic, Pacific and Antarctic Oceans meet are stunningly calm – almost like glass. We had expected heavy seas, but there is no hint of the turbulent storms that took the lives of so many sailors in the Age of Sail.

 

From the ship we see the Memorial erected to these brave men. It is in the form of an Albatross and reads:

 

 

I, the albatross that awaits for you at the end of the world...

I, the forgotten soul of the sailors lost that crossed Cape Horn from all the seas of the world.

But die they did not in the fierce waves,

for today towards eternity in my wings they soar

in the last crevice of the Antarctic winds

 

 

In commemoration of our rounding Cape Horn, the Captain performs a baptism ritual on the passengers. As each steps forward a ladle of really cold water is poured over the head. We are now Honorary Fugeans. I am grateful that the ceremony is not the same one used when first crossing the equator.

Day 9 – Tierra del Fuego

Today we are traversing the waters off Tierra del Fuego – which would be a really great name for a Latin Salsa Band (Ladies and Gentlemen – give it up for the Tierra del Fuegos!).

Actually, Tierra del Fuego is Spanish for “Land of Frozen Butts”. We take care not to touch any exposed metal as we hope to leave the ship some day.

As cold as it may be, the land is both spectacular and awe-inspiring. With all due respect to my home province of British Columbia, this is the most beautiful and fearsome coastline I have ever seen.

In every direction one looks there are the towering snow covered peaks of the Andes Mountains; craggy cliffs, scarred by ancient glaciers that advanced and retreated over the ages, that plunge straight down into the sea; and low lying islands that rise slowly from the frigid waters and slide back into the dark shadows of the barren coast line. Countless waterfalls, fed by the melting snows above, ease gently over the highest cliffs and, glistening like so many silvery ribbons, wend their way down the ridges and crevices, building speed as they descend, until their last dramatic fall onto the rocks below.

Nowhere is there any sign of life other than the birds and the beasts that first greeted Captain Robert Fitz Roy in 1826. This is truly the land that time has forgot.

 

 

 

 

Day 10 – Fort Williams

 

Today we arrive at Fort Williams, a small settlement which prides itself as being the “most southerly human settlement in the World”. Later we are to visit Punta Arenas which bills itself as “the most southerly human settlement of its size in the world”.

There appears to be a tremendous cachet to being the “most southerly” as Santiago may well claim to be “the most southerly capital of its size in the world”.

 

In the event that may actually be some financial advantage to this, I now modestly admit that my home in Atlanta is “the most southerly house with a pool, two magnolias, three white azaleas, two banana trees, and a broken gutter spout in the world”.

 

Day 14

 

The cruise is finally over. We had great stops in Punta Arenas, Ushuaia (which had been added back to the schedule), and Port Montt (where we got our third Captain of the trip). The trip was uneventful and the third misfortune that SailorJill feared never occurred.

 

But the trip has been stressful. Some people were upset that the Falkland Islands had been deleted from the schedule. ( I have to admit, I was looking forward to the Falklands – having signed up for a glass bottom boat ride so I could see the Argentinean Navy.) Others were upset over missing Puerto Madryn and the Penguin Colonies.

 

There had been talk of petitions, demands, sit-ins, and letters to the media, so tensions and stress were still high as people lined the halls to leave the ship. But I was confident cooler heads would prevail once we were ashore. I knew that the pushing and shoving that was occurring would soon turn to hugs and tearful goodbyes.

 

At least they would have until the ship announced that they had given out the wrong Chilean immigration documents and that crew members would soon circulate among the passengers to distribute the correct forms. In the meantime, no one could leave the ship until the new forms had been completed. I have to admit, I have never seen otherwise sane people start to pound on elevator doors, scream, and react so wildly to an announcement before.

 

I also knew that no sane member of the cruise directors staff would “circulate among the passengers” to distribute the new forms.

In the end it worked out, but this was a cruise to remember.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. I met wonderful people, visited intriguing ports, had great adventures, and even got some money back! The Dream is a good ship. It had a little misfortune - with which I have had a little fun , but in the end the worst day on a cruise is better that the best day at work.

As I got on my plane to fly back to Atlanta, I heard the three sweetest words in a travelers vocabulary – “You’ve been upgraded!”. As we circled Santiago and prepared to head north, SailorJill and I raised our champagne glasses and made a toast to our new friends, our upcoming adventures, and to whoever had the spare 25,000 amp IDX Type III fuse.

Life is good.

 

 

 

" We are all adults here and can handle the truth " You are as funny as a funeral!!!!!

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amazing, i had to read it out loud to DH...that wasn't easy since i was laughing so hard i was spitting!!

somehow you managed to make lemonade out of a lemon tree that had been cut down, destroyed by frost and ran over by a semi. great job, both with deal with the problems on the cruise and telling a GREAT story.

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I've traversed a LOT of travel boards but this is, by far, the funniest report, especially given all the bizarre circumstances, I have ever read. Like another poster mentioned, I hope your profession is writing, if not, it certainly should be. You remind me of the male version of Erma Bombeck. Evidently, you did reach your 'feminine side' :) I'm pretty new to this board. How do I send you a private message?

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"We awake again in Montevideo. Is it possible that I have become Bill Murray in Ground Hog Day – doomed to perpetually awake in Montevideo only to be told that we will be leaving by 4:00?

 

I have now been in Montevideo so long that I am considering applying for citizenship. I know now that we will never be able to leave and that the sooner SailorJill and I start our new life together the better." - Hilarious!!!

 

Great, great post. I know many have said that you should be a writer and not to sound unoriginal - but if you are not then you should be. That is the first thing I said after reading the first few lines. Thank you for posting this. What a pleasure.

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