In the spring of 1991, off the coast of Bora Bora, my wife, Debbie, and I stood side-by-side at the rail of the Pacific Princess, gazing at paradise. We had reached this idyllic port of call after five glorious days at sea crossing the equator, preceded by calling at three ports in the Hawaiian Islands. Just when we thought it couldn't get much better an apparition glided into view from behind Bora Bora's lush coastline. It was a sleek, modern, glistening white cruise ship. The Pacific Princess is small by today's standards, but this ship was even smaller, almost as long, but with a much lower profile. But the most arresting part of the vision was what seemed like acres of gleaming white canvas; billowing sails that drove the vessel silently forward, the only sound in passage being the muffled flap of sailcloth. It was the Wind Song, Windstar Cruises╒ ship permanently stationed in Tahiti. We looked at each other and knew instantly that the next cruise we took would be aboard her. That August we spent a week on the Wind Song, and haven't been on a conventional ship since. Debbie and I have just returned from our third ╤ and favorite ╤ Windstar voyage, a one-week cruise out of Barbados through the Grenadines aboard the M/S/Y Wind Spirit.
The three nearly identical Windstar ships are small and intimate, and are state-of-the-art in nautical technology. The six sails on four masts are computer-controlled for maximum efficiency. The ships also feature computer-controlled ballast tanks, which compensate for a sailing ship's tendency to heel to the downwind side, so the ship remains vertical at all times. The engines are diesel-electric. The amount of time spent under full sail without engine assist varies from cruise to cruise. During our cruise we were under sail-power for 56 of 102 hours at sea, or about 55% of the time. When the engines are off the ship glides through the water without sound or vibration. The effect is exhilarating and ethereal.
The ships are 440 feet long and have a gross tonnage of 5,150 tons (about 1/10 the size of the average conventional ships currently being launched). Each holds a maximum of 148 passengers served by 96 crew members, so the level of service is quite high.
There are two restaurants - the main restaurant which serves only dinner, and the Veranda which serves lunch and breakfast both from a menu and from a buffet. There is no assigned seating, and no formal sittings. The restaurant opens for dinner at 7:30 PM and closes at 10:30. Passengers can dine at any time during that period, and sit with whomever they please. The cuisine is American contemporary with a strong Pacific Rim influence. Fresh local seafood is acquired daily in each port, and lobster is offered daily when in season. Everything is cooked to order, so the food lacks the ╥banquet food╙ attributes of many cruise ship dining rooms. Most itineraries feature two barbecues: one on a secluded beachfront or island, and a huge deck barbecue on the pool deck. Tea is served daily on the pool deck, and there is a nightly pre-dinner cocktail party in the lounge, at which a variety of hors d'oeuvres is served. The hors d'oeuvres menu changes daily, and runs the gamut from Sevruga Caviar to Indonesian specialties to fresh sushi. There is no midnight buffet. Beginning in 1995, L.A.'s famous chef/restaurateur Joachim Splichal (Patina, Pinot Bistro) takes over as the line's executive chef.
Other public areas include the pool and spa area, a small (two tables + slots) casino, library (books and videocassettes), fitness room, sauna, boutiques, beauty shop, the flying bridge, and the main bridge itself (on Windstar ships the bridge is considered a public area since it is open to passengers 24 hours a day - even when harbor pilots are guiding the ship in or out of port). A portion of the transom folds down to form a sports platform from which passengers can water ski, wind surf, swim, kayak, sail, or embark on scuba or snorkeling expeditions in the ship's Zodiac rafts, .
The cabins are in the 200 square foot range. All are outside with two large port holes. Each has a queen-size bed, mini-bar, refrigerator, VCR, CD player and loads of closet space. Each cabin is finished in teak and mahogany.
The style of the ships is decidedly non-glitzy, and they resemble huge yachts more than cruise ships. There are no dressy evenings. Windstar describes its dress code as ╥casual elegance,╙ which simply means no jeans, shorts or T-shirts in the restaurant or in the lounge at cocktail hour. The yachtlike ambience is increased by the blurring of the line between passengers and crew. Unlike the larger ships which tend to have an ╥us and them╙ attitude, where passengers feel like organic cargo, the feeling on the Windstar ships is more like a single group of people sailing together to a common destination.
Most passengers are in the 30 to 40-something range, though older passengers are not uncommon, especially on itineraries where watersports are not the primary emphasis. No provision is made for children, and few are present.
But Windstar will not appeal to everyone. The emphasis is strongly on watersports, beaches and island exploring. The ports tend to be smaller, more obscure, and with a less developed tourist industry. And there is no bingo, no floor shows, no comedians, magicians, or lounge singers. Except for a small dance combo, and occasional musicians brought aboard from the current port, there is no entertainment. There are no elevators.
So, I am often asked, don't you get bored? What do you do all day? After having taken more than twenty cruises prior to our first Windstar experience, Debbie and I asked ourselves the same questions. Within a day we had our answers. We were never for a moment bored. We filled our days with beautiful waters and unspoiled isles, with romance and with the company of delightful new friends.
Oh yes, there is one more thing they don't have on the Windstar ships. They don't have lines. Never. Not for anything.
What follows is a thumbnail diary of our recent voyage from Barbados on the Wind Spirit:
DAY 1 - SUNDAY
BARBADOS
Twenty minutes after departing the Bridgetown, Barbados, airport in a twelve-passenger minivan, the tops of the Wind Spirit's four masts can be seen over the roofs of the quayside warehouses. Our minivan drives right up to the ship's gangway. There is no cruise terminal, no ticket lines marked ╥A-F╙ ╥G-L╙, etc. Instead, Captain Andrew Walsh, master of the Wind Spirit, in the traditional Windstar day uniform ╤ white shorts and knee socks ╤ stands at the bottom of the stairs, introducing himself to all arriving passengers. We climb the steps, enter the lounge (pausing only to accept a free rum punch from a steward), and walk right to a table where our cruise ticket is taken. Then we step across the lounge, where our credit card is immediately run for shipboard credit. The whole process has taken less than five minutes.
We go down one deck to our cabin. We read through the watersports brochure on our dresser. I am a certified scuba diver, and am delighted that there are organized scuba dives offered in five of the cruise's six ports. Debbie is pleased that there are chances to snorkel at each port, with ship-organized snorkeling at three of them.
At 6:30 we enter the ship's lounge for an orientation talk by Tom, the ship's host (there is no ╥cruise director╙). Tom tries to do the kind of peppy (╥Turn around and face the person next to you, shake his hand and give him a ╘Hi, Neighbor!╒╙) welcome which seems more appropriate for Carnival. It doesn't fly with this crowd. A dreadful three-piece combo (which we will be stuck with for the duration of the cruise) strikes up a tune. Their velour dinner jackets are glaringly out of place here. After cocktails and hors d'oeuvres I go to a meeting for scuba divers with Andy and Angela, the water sports directors. Subsequently we go down to the restaurant for a buffet and limited menu dinner. I order Barbadian Flying Fish (a local delicacy) from the menu. They are delicious.
At 11:00 PM it is announced that the departure will be delayed for two hours. One couple's flight to Barbados has been delayed, and they are holding the ship for them. We fall asleep before the ship departs.
DAY 2 - MONDAY
BEQUIA
After a lifeboat drill at 9:30 AM, the ship pulls in to the harbor at Admiralty Bay, Bequia (Pronounced, BECK-wee). Debbie stays on board chatting with new friends we have met. Allie is an advertising and marketing consultant. Liz is a graphic designer servicing a number of Fortune 500 companies. Missy works for Carole Little, and her husband, Steve, for the Orlando Sentinel.
I go down to the watersports platform for my dive. Amazingly, I am the only passenger present, but Pietro, the dining room manager, will be joining me.
Upon my return to the ship, Debbie and I take the tender into Bequia for lunch. There is little to see here, and less to shop for, so our plan is to scope out a good place for lunch, stroll around a bit, and return to the ship.
The tender drops us off near the main fruit and vegetable market, a large open-air affair with many exotic fruits we haven't encountered before. We walk along the beach to a seafront hotel, The Frangipani, where I dine on Caliloo (a Caribbean seafood and spinach soup) and curried conch over rice. Debbie orders the seafood salad. The restaurant is pleasant, with a lovely view of the harbor, but the food is only average. After lunch we walk back to the tender dock, pausing at the fruit and vegetable market to buy a couple of sugar apples, a soft, custard-like tropical fruit.
Back aboard the Wind Spirit we get ready for the evening. There is a welcome aboard reception in the lounge at which Captain Walsh will reintroduce himself and the senior officers. It is not like the welcome aboard party on the large ships. There is no line to get in, no ship's photographers. Captain Walsh wanders through the lounge involving himself in various conversations.
After dinner there is a party up on deck, with music by New Direction, a fabulous local band from Bequia. A conga line magically materializes. All the passengers join in, and we snake around the entire deck.
DAY 3 - TUESDAY
THE TOBAGO CAYS
The Tobago Cays - not to be confused with the island of Tobago - are five tiny islets set in a horseshoe-shaped reef. The islands are so small that the nautical chart shows them only as plus-signs. The water is unbelievably clear. This is the one port without a scuba dive, so I indulge myself in a large and delicious breakfast. Later we catch a Zodiac for a run to the beach. When we arrive we comment that it feels like being on Gilligan's Island. There are no inhabitants, and the foliage is lush and tropical. We follow a path across the narrow dimension of the island, and reach the untouched beaches of the other side. The beach stretches left and right far enough that each group of passengers can stake a claim without seeing any of the others. We put out our towels and I organize a snorkeling tour through the beautiful reefs right off shore. The snorkeling is every bit as good as that in the crystalline lagoons of Bora Bora or Moorea.
After pausing for a fruit punch at the bar the ship has set up on the other side of the island, we take a Zodiac back to the ship for an Indonesian buffet lunch.
At tea time the awful three-piece combo, Contact, starts playing again. They play a polka. They need to go back to music school. They need to take remedial Caribbean.
At 4:30 the ship departs for Grenada. For the first time, the tiny casino opens for business. It doesn't get much.
DAY 4 - WEDNESDAY
GRENADA
We arrive at St. George's, Grenada, at 9:00 AM. We share the port with two other ships, the Seawind Crown and the Renaissance III.
I go off for another scuba dive. This time there is one other passenger. Along with the usual cast of characters, a huge octopus is sighted and photographed.
After the dive, we leave the ship. Grahme, the Scottish second officer, has recommended Canboulay, one of the highest-rated restaurants in the Caribbean.
As our cab drives up the mountain upon which the restaurant perches, the strong aromas of nutmeg and cinnamon ╤ Grenada's primary exports ╤ drift through the windows. Canboulay is a colorful open-air bungalow run by a Canadian expatriate. We dine on seafood gumbo, salad with creamy nutmeg dressing, and crispy fried flying fish. We sit by an open window overlooking the harbor and our ship. The soft scent of nutmeg and cloves drifts through the open window. We have found paradise.
After a dessert of nutmeg ice cream with nutmeg syrup (it's easy to tell what the main export of Grenada is), we taxi back to the port, stopping only to buy spice baskets, local vanilla and nutmeg syrup (it grows on you) from the dockside flea market, then it's back to the ship.
As we pull out of port, Captain Walsh raises the sails, and, as we pass the Seawind Crown, passengers line the rails to photograph our departure. I remember our introduction to the Wind Song in Bora Bora. Windstar probably sells more cabins with these departures than they do from their brochures.
DAY 5 - THURSDAY
CARRIACOU
While I am diving, Debbie, Allie, Liz, Missy and her husband, Steve, tender in to Carriacou, the largest of the Grenadines, but still very primitive and thinly populated. Carriacou has only one gas station, but a hundred rum shops! Farming and the building of hand-constructed schooners are the main enterprises. Debbie et al take a taxi to visit with the island's most famous resident, Canute Caliste, a 76 year-old artist who paints mystical pictures from images that come to him in his dreams. He has been featured on a number of U.S. television shows. He has twenty children and innumerable grandchildren, many of whom run naked around the property of his home/studio. Debbie and Allie make an offer for two of his canvases. However, upon returning to the ship they discover they both want the same one. The negotiations will continue for the remainder of the cruise.
They return to the ship and join up with me. Then we catch a Zodiac to Sandy Island, a tiny island off the coast of Carriacou, where the ship has set up a beach barbecue. Sandy Island is even smaller than the Tobago Cay we stopped at earlier. You can walk the entire circumference in under 15 minutes. The barbecue is excellent, as is the steel band playing nearby. Once again, the snorkeling is fabulous.
Upon returning to our cabin we discover an invitation to dine with the captain this evening. It is normal on Windstar for repeat passengers to receive such invitations. Captain Walsh is in his early forties, very British, and possessing of a fine sense of humor. Dinner is delicious. I begin with an assortment of sushi, a double consommÄ, and finish with a piece of local tuna.
DAY 6 - FRIDAY
MARTINIQUE
Debbie has been itching for some shopping, and this is the one port with a good selection and duty-free prices. While I am scuba diving, she checks out the bargains and makes a few purchases. Later, I rejoin her, and we proceed to my favorite restaurant in the Caribbean, La Grande Voile. Lunch is incredibly delicious. We work off a small part of it walking back to the tender dock.
Aboard the Wind Spirit, they are getting the pool deck ready for the deck barbecue. At cocktail hour, Contact is playing in the lounge. They play ╥Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.╙ It is September. We wonder whether giving them a 2 on our comment cards would be mean-spirited.
The deck barbecue is spectacular. There is a whole table devoted to Sevruga Caviar and blinis. Chefs prepare a multitude of meats, local fish and fowl. At another table a diminutive suckling pig is carved. The desserts are the best of the cruise. Still no line with more than five people can be found. A local band provides the music. We go to bed sated and happy.
DAY 7 - SATURDAY
ST. LUCIA
Sadly, this is our last port of call, but Windstar has saved the best for last. We will tie up at Souffriere, a modest fishing village nestled along the slopes of the Twin Pitons, the volcanic peaks that give the island its distinctive profile.
I go up to the bridge where Captain Walsh is single-handedly controlling the ship, rushing from console to console, and to the bridge wings, speaking into a walkie-talkie. On the pier a group of natives are loudly shouting navigation advice (╥Left, left!╙ ╥Too far!╙ ╥Go forward, Mon!╙ etc.) The ringleader wears a sideways baseball cap with stars and stripes on it, an open-throated tie-dyed shirt, high-topped tennis shoes, and more gold than Mr. T. Then I notice that Grahme is leaning over the stern, listening to what this guy is saying, and is forwarding the information by walkie-talkie to the bridge! Turns out this fellow is what serves as harbor pilot in this part of the world.
Debbie takes a helicopter tour of the island (the chopper lands right next to the ship), and I go for what turns out to be the most incredible dive I have ever had. Drifting with the current along a wall of coral that drops 600 feet straight down into the abyss we see a vast array of marine life, including a magnificent old sea turtle, whose carapace easily measures five feet in length.
It is late afternoon, and we cast off and begin our last leg back to Barbados. We are travelling under sail power alone. The wind is picking up. There are ominous clouds on the horizon. The mood is very sad. It's time to start packing.
In the dining room we are having our farewell dinner. The ship is experiencing a fair amount of motion, and the dining room is half empty. All of a sudden the ship heels sharply to the right, and a few moments later a rattling noise and shaking come from above the restaurant's ceiling. We dash out on deck into a pouring rain and driving wind. The ship has sailed into an unexpected squall with winds up to 55 knots. There was no time to furl the sails, and three of them have been torn to shreds. We watch the crew-members struggling to get the loose and whipping lines under control. We have to finish the trip on the engines. But we have a little excitement for the final day at sea.
DAY 8 - SUNDAY
BARBADOS
It is all over. We leave the ship early to catch an 8:40 flight out of Barbados. We arrive at the airport and pick up our bags. Then we inch forward toward the check-in counter. What is this string of humanity we follow like lemmings?
