Amazon voyage - part one

A year or so ago, a friend, a retired British sea captain, sent me a wonderful, early morning picture he had taken of riverboats in Santarém, Brazil. It evoked a longing, the sort that comes when you’re safely at home in a comfortable armchair and not dripping buckets of sweat and slapping at mosquitoes.

It reminded me that I wanted to go up the Amazon and attend the opera. I wanted a small ship for the voyage. And I wanted to be away for Christmas and New Year. How to combine the three?

One of the attractions was the ship, the MV Explorer, a floating 'campus' of the University of Virginia. In term time, she carries students all over the world. Between terms - with the usual cruise ship cabins, restaurants, entertainment and lounges, plus an 8,000 volume research library - she takes older passengers.

In mid-December, I flew to Nassau and, unlike a normal cruise ship, was able to board a day early. Joining me were my friends Mike and Kathy from California and Statia in the Caribbean.

The Explorer may look big, but she's not. She's less than a third the size of the old QE2, a sixth the size of the new Queen Mary 2 and, by next year, when the world's largest liner is in service, will be a ninth the tonnage of that. With a modest complement of passengers, seven academic lecturers and the freedom to bring aboard your own booze, what more could I want?

Here's my cabin window on the first day. A stiff wind's bending the dockside palms; my well-travelled beach ball globe is by the window and I'm ready to go.

In the forward lounge, one passenger was checking his laptop (the ship has WiFi) and chuckling. He was reading the day's 'Doonesbury' cartoon. Apparently, the punch line was, "Who would you like to throw shoes at?"

In fact, this type of voyage seemed to attract a decidedly liberal passenger list. Early one morning, while having a breakfast out on deck, a distinguished-looking gent with an 'Impeach Bush-Cheney' T-shirt sat nearby.

Even on a smallish ship, you can always find a place to yourself. On a quiet morning, I had the pool to myself.

I didn't take a lot of shots in Nassau, but liked this 'safe sex' sign.

And I admired this handsome Nassau street light - perhaps from the 1930s.

Nassau ... St. Barth's ... Barbados. I'm quite fond of this dockside shot of the towers for loading sugar in Bridgetown.

Having been introduced to it on a previous trip, I'm also overly fond of the excellent Cockspur's (“Est'd 1884”) Barbados rum punch, which you can purchase pre-mixed. I stocked up on a number of bottles. The potency may account for the picture.

As we headed south, I attended lectures on 'Candomblé: The Afro-Brazilian religion', 'Art and Architecture of Brazil' and 'Manaus from the Rubber Boom of the 19th Century to Modern Days'.

Progressing along the coast of Brazil, decorations appeared around the ship. Here's the Christmas tree on the bridge.

I've spent a lot of hours on freighter bridges, but this was only the second time I've been on a liner's bridge. Citing security, most cruise lines no longer allow passengers in the wheelhouse.

Here's a shot of the ultra-modern layout and one of the quartermasters who acts as lookout.