Our first full day and we are at sea all day. We awaken having been traveling all night through the Old Bahama Channel and find ourselves twelve miles off the Communist Paradise known as Cuba. As we won’t reach our first port of call, Puerta Plata Dominican Republic, until tomorrow, it’s the perfect time to catch up on the blog and to get acquainted with MS Riviera. Turns out that Steve will do the former while Cathy does the latter.
This post will have two parts, one from each of us. Steve wants to discuss two subjects: our ship and the nightmare that cruise lines have lived through due to Covid, especially of late.
Our ‘new’ ship: Now, while we have indeed spent a considerable number of weeks and months cruising, our experience is largely limited to only two ships, both of them Oceania Cruises vessels (Insignia and Nautica) and both identical in size. MS Riviera is considerably larger in every way.
Here are the statistics:
Insignia/Nautica Riviera
Length 592’ 785’
Beam (max. width) 84’ 106’
Draft (max.) 19.52’ 24.93’
Gross Tonnage 30,000 68,000
Crew 400 800
Passengers 698 1,250
Decks 11 (9 passenger) 15 (11 passenger)
One quick observation we make is that, while Riviera seems way, way longer than the others, so much so that the stateroom corridor we travel seems endless (which is the point of the photo at the beginning of this post), the ship has a very familiar feel to it. This ship is almost identical in layout as the smaller versions, which makes us feel right at home. The standard restaurants, bars and entertainment venues have the same names and location in the ships we previously sailed. Really the only significant difference is in the size of all those venues. Even the furniture has a familiar look. It helps a great deal in helping us settle in.
Now to those of you who have had voyages on the enormous “Gargantuan of the Seas” or similar mammoth vessels accommodating 3,500-5,000 passengers, Riviera might actually seem confining, but we are fascinated by how ‘roomy’ it seems. This really speaks to our limited cruise experience, and, frankly, we’re happy to have found our home. The staff is still amazingly attentive and friendly, the food is phenomenally good, and the layout of the ship is totally familiar. So within one day, we feel as if we’ve been here for weeks.
Covid impact on the cruise industry: By necessity the cruise industry got shut down as the virus spread. To those who aren’t familiar with them, cruise ships have sometimes seemed like giant, floating petri dishes. That reputation did sometimes seem to be borne out when outbreaks of Norovirus or other infectious diseases spread quickly on a given cruise ship.
But, as anyone who has any experience on one of the many cruise ships plying the world’s oceans will tell you, the industry has developed (yes, with the help of the United States CDC) elaborate protocols that kick in at the very first sign of a contagious disease on board. Of course, it is in the cruise line’s best interests to do so, but the fact remains that they do so without the need to be constantly and suspiciously watched over by the federal government as if they will allow viruses to run rampant the minute CDC officials turn their backs. And, by the way, since every single person on board is 1) fully vaccinated, 2) has passed a Covid test half an hour before boarding, 3) required to wear masks everywhere and 4) will have periodic Covid tests during the voyage, it is practically the safest environment you could possibly ask for.
So, since Covid reared its ugly head, the industry has lost billions. But the pandemic is almost two years old, and you would think that the CDC might have learned something about – and from – the industry on whose neck they have had their heavy foot all this time.
But you would be wrong. Instead of learning how best to combat the disease aboard cruise ships, primarily by observing how well these protocols manage to control the spread of disease and learning from the industry’s phenomenally responsible responses in the past (i.e., “following the science”), the CDC has completely overreacted to the Omicron variant.
Two or three weeks ago, the CDC came out with a “suggestion” that no one should take cruises. Just when the industry was coming back to life, the government bureaucrats deemed cruises dangerous. The impact was immediate, from what we have heard from other passengers. This ship normally carries 1,250 passengers. Oceania, to ensure the proper social distancing, had already put a limit to hundreds less than that. The CDC bureaucrats caused a proverbial rush to the exits, and, with all the last-minute cancelations, now this ship is just about half full.
Now we hear that, less than three weeks later, the same bureaucrats are rewriting the rules to allow much more flexibility, undoubtedly a political reaction to pushback from people who have had enough of the now-nonsensical edicts. Oceania has made application to change certain offerings that heretofore have been forbidden, and they likely will be allowed. What we are witnessing right now aboard this ship is not science. It’s politics. Apparently, there was no reason to issue the original warning in the first place because, within a space of just three weeks, the rules are all changing.
Sorry for the rant in the midst of this post, but these knee-jerk responses by the CDC have real-world consequences. Someone at CDC headquarters, who will get their paycheck no matter what happens, makes a decision that affects the livelihoods of thousands and thousands of others. You might hope that they would take a minute to really evaluate the impact of these rulings on the industry and its customers. But they don’t. Logic and reason are out. Politics and emotion are in, as seems always the case lately.
By the way, the industry is keeping quiet and has been rolling with the punches. Challenging the almighty CDC is to risk retaliation. But we are seeing the impact everywhere we go on this ship.
OK, enough already, you must be saying. Now it’s time for Cathy to report on what she spent the day doing. It’ll be much more fun to read, but I couldn’t help myself.
First Sea Day. One of the many things I like about an Oceania cruise is that the first day is usually a sea day. So, we did our usual first day thing: Steve stayed in the room and wrote, and I wandered around the ship and did my reconnaissance. Riviera is twice the size of Insignia, but everything is in the same place, just bigger. First stop: library! Of course. Lots of comfy chairs and lots of books!
I saw hardly any other people in my wanderings. Having just watched several Twilight Zone episodes I felt as if I were truly there! But I remembered that our dinner companions of the night before had told us that there had been many cancellations since the stupid CDC announcement two weeks ago. The lack of passengers was very noticeable.
I had found a plastic travel bag in one of the bathroom drawers. It was full of packets of pills. All OTC that I could see. I showed it to Arun and he said he would take it to Reception. I said don’t bother, I will do it. So I did. Interesting! The rep put it in a large Ziploc bag and said, “We will take it back to Miami and put it in lost and found. If the people want it they can drive to Miami and pick it up.” Lesson learned there!
Then I went to another favorite place, Horizons. Large room in the bow with many windows. Got my cappuccino and sat with a woman named Jan. She’s apparently a voracious knitter and she showed me pictures of some of her projects. It was very enjoyable. She also told me the ship was about half full.
Lunch in the GDR, soup, our fave, cream of mushroom, and salad. We like to eat light at lunch so we can have dessert. At lunch. And dinner! Then naps, reading, and our first taste of our daily canapes! So exciting. I had assorted AOC cheeses, Steve had tortilla chips and dips. Then dinner at Polo. OMG. Escargots, oysters Rockefeller, filet, swordfish (properly cooked!) bearnaise sauce, creamed spinach (made with just spinach and cream!), potato dauphinois. Staggered back to the room and early to bed.
