Caribbean, South and Central America cruise - part one

Cruise ships used to make me shudder. But I am getting older and there are times when the modest prospect of a comfortable cabin, swimming pool and Caribbean warmth has appeal. For once, I planned ahead and, last summer, booked passage on the MSC Lirica, attracted by her appealing name and that the line, Mediterranean Shipping, is little known in these parts. For the record, MSC is the world's second largest container shipping company with more than three hundred vessels owned or under charter. Cruises were a second thought. However, I thought, they know how to run ships and, being Italian, the pasta and red wine should be acceptable.

The itinerary offered possibilities. Although I 'rounded the Horn' on the bridge of the old (sadly gone) Palliser Bay, I had never stood on South American soil. There was the chance of seeing some new places and of revisiting ones with memories. The price was right and winter the incentive.

I am not a technical person, but the details of ships interest me. I can happily wander alone, absorbing the design, the curves, the operation. I stand at railings for hours, watching waves and activities in port. When the ship rolls (not easy on cruise ships with such efficient stabilizers), many rush for their pills, while I (as long as the rolling is within reason) appreciate the triumph of physics over technology. But, as much as I am content on my own, the success of any trip is other people. And on this trip, as so often before, I was fortunate to encounter interesting companions.

One couple stand out. He is a charming 91-year old who fought as a gunnery officer on the USS Maryland at the Battle of the Leyte Gulf and later at Okinawa, surviving two kamikaze attacks. One night, discreetly I hope, I sat in the shadows while Dick and his wife, Barbara, took to the floor, making my attempts at 'proper' dancing seem rather pathetic. Barbara lightly kissed Dick on the cheek and I felt an unexpected envy. Far more romantic than starry-eyed couples seventy years younger. Later, when I told them that I was envious. Barbara said, "Don't be envious, be happy for us." So, when my friend Gord and I next walk - with our morning coffees - out onto the dock at Maasin in Southern Leyte, I will look on those waters (on which were fought the biggest naval battle in history) and be happy for Dick and Barbara.

It was a cruise. Didn't ask many probing questions about regional politics or social issues. Did bring along the latest book on the huge cruise industry and concerns about monopolies, pollution and exploitation of Third World workers. However, managed to put most of my guilt to the side while slumped in a deckchair. Drowned some old memories in rum punch and largely enjoyed myself.

Seen through the terminal windows, Toronto's Pearson Airport on a satisfactorily wintry morning.

The Lirica from the Fort Lauderdale terminal. I can even spot my cabin which I was in about five minutes later.

A partial view of my home for more than three weeks. I don't much like some modern art, but the prints by a Danish artist made the cabin quite cheerful.

At sea and a passenger, the deck virtually all to himself, watches the sun come up.

An empty stretch soon to be occupied by a few runners, walkers and me with the day's first coffee.

Different from the normal jogging route ...

I rather liked the morning shadows on these promenade deck doors.

Was a bit surprised to find that my book and I often had entire sections of deck to ourselves. This picture was taken at the stern. Most people tended to gather near the pools which I generally only use when a ship's in port. Everyone else rushes off and I have the pool all to myself and can pretend I'm on a largish private yacht. As I rarely take organized tours, I stay behind and then wander at will.

Hurrah! I'm in South America and stuck in the Cartagena, Colombia, traffic.

This was more what I was hoping for - an archway in Cartagena. The older part of the city reminded me of Havana. Both have a similar Spanish history and architecture.

Taken at noon, usually the worst time for photography, but this worked out nicely.

Next stop, the San Blas Islands off the coast of Panama. A Lirica officer is getting a better view. This was the only time I used a tender (a comforting term for a lifeboat) to get from the ship into a port. It wasn't too bad with a few carefree day-trippers, but, as it's rated for a 150 occupants when the ship's going down, it would be hell in an emergency. Just imagine all those survivors without their travel sickness pills.

When younger, I might have stayed in this San Blas 'hotel', but, this time, decided I preferred my cabin.

However, I did enjoy speaking with Alerdito Ortega Smith, whose name indicates that the English passed through these islands long ago and who is something of an artist. Alerdito makes molas and you can see some in the background. Molas are quite extraordinary textile works of art and have been displayed at some major Western art galleries.

Pull aside the morning curtains and there's the Caribbean entrance to the Panama Canal seen through my salt-streaked window. The building is where canal pilots are based. I've been through the canal by ship, but this time get to watch the process from dry land.

Below is the bulker Crystal Seas going through the Gatun Locks. The last time I came through here was aboard the old Melbourne Star, a container ship bound from Philadelphia to Auckland. It was lunchtime and our captain, Cec Jackson, knew his eight passengers wanted to see as much of the canal as possible, so arrangements had kindly been made to eat on deck. A table was set up, cloth laid down and we clinked glasses and dined as our two stewards hovered. All of this was watched closely by hundreds of cruise ship passengers lining the decks of a neighbouring vessel. We privileged eight sniggered and made silly remarks about ‘cattle boats’. However, there are times when one wants more than seven other people to talk with and container ships don’t spend much time in port, especially warm Caribbean ones. So, this time, I'm on the cruise ship!

I went to Portobelo, Panama. Once, it was said, a third of the world's gold passed through the little town. Gold and slaves. I walked a few steps into the slave cells and the damp and darkness and silence hurried me back out into the welcome light.

I found this cross nearby.

These Portobelo fruit sellers cheered me up.