Finding My Pace at Sea
What long cruises taught me about my travel style
As a long-time cruiser, I was excited to kick off retirement by stretching my sea legs with longer sailings. With no vacation-day limitations, I was free to travel for weeks or months if I felt like it. I looked forward to distinct itineraries, many sea days at a stretch, and the luxury of just settling into life at sea. I had never really travelled more than 2-2 ½ weeks at a time. It was time to scratch that itch.
I decided the best test of how I’d fare on a longer, less port-intensive cruise would be a repositioning cruise (seasonal sailings where the cruise lines are moving ships from one area of the world to another, eg Europe to the Caribbean). And the fact that repositioning cruises are routinely priced at bargain levels was a nice bonus. These sailings are favored by retirees for their timing, length, laid back schedule, and price.
I chose a transatlantic sailing in mid-October from Southampton, England to Port Canaveral, Florida. A 12-day sailing with just 4 ports of call and 8 sea days. I planned the trip with my usual rigor, including booking a 3-night pre-cruise stay in Southampton.
After a lovely few days in Southampton, embarkation day arrived, and I was ready to settle into a couple of days of shipboard life. The cruise started in wind and rain, and that continued for several days. But the novelty of a new ship, meeting online chat friends, and reconnecting with previous cruise pals was enough to help me ignore the weather. But soon I started noticing the big differences between a more leisurely cruise like a transatlantic and the more port-intensive cruises I was used to. I had taken one of those busier cruises earlier in the year – an 11-day British Isles cruise out of Amsterdam, with 2 nights in Amsterdam pre- and post-cruise; that sailing had 8 port days and 3 sea days, so the contrast was fresh in my mind.
Weather can be a factor on any cruise, but on a transatlantic sailing in spring or fall, it can be more than just a day’s nuisance. Multiple days of bad weather will force even the most die-hard sun-worshippers inside, making all the venues just a bit more crowded. And without port days and time off the ship, I felt a small sense of claustrophobia.
The transatlantic cruise had more planned activities, designed to fill long sea days and provide opportunities to connect with other passengers on more than a one-off basis. I’m still in touch with many of the people I met on that cruise.
Probably the biggest plus to me as a solo traveler on the transatlantic was the sense of community I found with other solos. A great group of ladies connected online before the cruise and created a bit of structure around meals and other activities that each of us could join as we liked. The “solo ladies sea-day lunch” started as a table in one of the dining rooms but quickly morphed into a more casual “I’ll grab a table in the buffet” which we could all drop in and out at will. It was a helpful default and a chance to connect with others to plan other activities.
After settling into the rhythm of the transatlantic cruise, I reflected on how I felt about the slower pace. It was definitely not my normal itinerary, and I did find myself occasionally looking for more stimulation. The British Isles cruise with more port activity was definitely more my style.
I won’t rule out repositioning cruises in the future, but this trip clarified something important for me. I don’t need travel to slow me down as an end in itself. I need it to engage me—and sometimes to give me rest after engagement. Long, quiet stretches work best for me as punctuation, not as the whole sentence.