`Honey, I`ve seen these crab races 37 times.”
We were getting ready for the evening`s entertainment and Shirley Endler was not excited. Endler, a retiree from Maryland, had been on 37 Windjammer Barefoot Cruises, and each one had featured a crab race. There is a limit to any human being`s fascination with crustacean athletics.
I met Endler last July on Windjammer`s Polynesia, sailing out of St. Maarten.
This was a special voyage for Endler because her husband, Jack, was taking his first-ever cruise. Jack is not a sailor; he is a golfer.
”He always said he would get seasick on a dock,” Shirley said.
But he prepared for this trip. ”I got Dramamine, patches and the bracelets,” he said.
Also on board was Doris Foster of Los Gatos, Calif., who had been on at least 70 Windjammer cruises. She had met her boyfriend on one of them. For the past two years, they`ve rendezvoused in places like Tortola, St. Kitts and St. Martin.
Heart attack stops her
So far this year, she has spent five weeks on the Polynesia. She plans another two trips later this year on the Flying Cloud, which sails out of Tortola in the British Virgin Islands, then two more, probably also on the Flying Cloud.
Much of the allure of Windjammer is in its big, four-masted sailing vessels, which go to ports inaccessible to larger ships. Like the Dutch island Saba, a rocky place that has no beach, but spectacular views and great diving and snorkeling.
Or Bequia, where luxury yachts dock for supplies. It`s among the few places in the world where whales are still hunted legally; the islanders go out once a year and kill the whales by harpoon.
Or Columbier Beach in St. Barts, reachable only by foot.
In tiny Nevis, the post office even issues a Polynesia stamp, indicating the importance to the local economy of the 125 passengers the ship brings in. Pleasant routine
The formula is this: At night, you sail. In the morning, you arrive at a new island and get the lowdown from the captain on what there is to see and do. Then you do what you like: diving, snorkeling, shopping, sunbathing, sightseeing or nothing.
The evening features eclectic on-board entertainment. One night, it was the land crab races, with passengers betting on the outcome. Another night, a local band played songs you might hear in a Holiday Inn lounge. One evening, we listened to an excellent steel-drum band from Trinidad.
The highlight for many people, though, is putting up the sails at night. Windjammer makes a production of it. First, the crew calls for volunteers to help unfurl the sails.
Sometimes the ship leaves at midnight, the lonely vessel lighting up the darkness. Sometimes it pulls away into a stunning sunset.
Foster said her favorite times are on board during the day, when most people are on the island, or late at night, when they`re asleep.
Foster usually books ”bachelorette” quarters-six to a room at the cheapest price-then sleeps out on deck, under the stars.
Because the Windjammer is smaller than a conventional cruise ship, it is easy to meet people. On board, you talk, read, sleep, or dance. And eat.
Food is plentiful and generally good. It`s cooked by island chefs, mostly American-style with Caribbean touches.
Flamboyant meal
The last night on the Polynesia the head steward demonstrated Windjammer`s recipe for Caesar salad, then made a theatrical production out of flaming rum bananas over ice cream.
The passenger list, though tiny compared with a conventional cruise, is usually varied.
During my most recent trip, the group was young but heavily couples-oriented.
In one week, we snorkeled, climbed a 3,000-foot extinct volcano into a rain forest, rode a taxi-a Soviet Lada-in Saba, bought batik clothing from the factory, visited a 300-year-old fort and ate lunch at an inn straight out of Gourmet magazine.
Not that everybody was overwhelmed with nostalgia. Shirley`s husband, Jack, said he wasn`t sure he`d cruise again. But he did admit he`d found somebody to play golf with, an inn owner, who promised next time to take him out on St. Kitts` only course.
