Abandon Ship!

Despite a new peak in popularity, cruising isn’t cruising anymore. What’s a seasoned sailor to do?

Setting Sail

In September of 1973, I was supposed to enter the 2nd grade. Always suspicious of non-consensual authority, I instead traveled to New York City and boarded the SS Canberra bound for the Caribbean.

And thus, my love of cruising was cemented. Those sights, sounds, and smells are forever part of me. And I have my parents’ love of travel to thank for this trip and many others. It ranks highly as one of the most important of the many gifts they’ve given me.

People seem to either love or hate cruises. Those who hate cruises have either never been on one, only did “that one Carnival cruise my uncle took me on” or are the truly independent traveler who will tolerate no restrictions. Folks who say “I wouldn’t like being cooped up with all those people” or “it’s just a floating petri dish” are folks who don’t know what they’re talking about, in my experienced opinion.

For those who love cruising, the reasons are many. Some like a constant party atmosphere (Carnival). Some like a quiet day at sea with a good book and someone to bring you wine or cappuccino (Holland America in its finest days). Others, like me, love the ship itself—a living organism of human creation that constantly yearns for an unattainable horizon. I long for sea days, where a ship can be a ship unfettered by the restrictions of dry land.

But a lot of people see cruising as a convenient way to sample foreign shores, and to them, it’s the ports that matter most. Others go for the fellowship. Still others to be pampered.

And we need to have a talk.

A Sea Change

Cruising has changed. And you need to change too if you want to keep enjoying it.

When I started cruising, it was a luxury experience. Sure, there were different degrees of luxury, but every cabin entitled folks to excellent cuisine, the friendliest of service, and a number of ancillary perks like free room service, daily newspapers, twice-daily turn down, a stocked library, plenty of free activities ranging from crafts to talent shows to trivia to lectures. A tour of the bridge? Sure! A demonstration of ice carving by the pool? Guaranteed. Midnight buffet? Always!

By the early 1980s, this service had reached its peak. There were no speciality restaurants, and if there were, you’d be hesitant to go because you wouldn’t want to miss the main dining room experience. Ports were varied, with the “Nassau and St. Thomas” trips being augmented with places rarely visited now. Nightly entertainment was “must see,” and the main frustration was figuring which of the many activities to attend because so many looked good. I remember going over the daily schedule with a pencil circling things I wanted to do, and then having a rough time choosing one.

Not everything was perfect, of course. Environmental concerns were well-justified (I remember watching bags of trash being thrown overboard without the least bit of subterfuge), there was no Internet, cabins were small, and the lifeboat drill was arduous. But still, “those were the days” indeed.

The 90s saw things gradually change. Ships started getting bigger and adding unheard of amenities like ice skating, boxing, water slides, and so on. But then cruising started to become something different. The focus started shifting from guest experience to revenue enhancement, and that train has only picked up speed.

The 2000s saw even bigger ships. The Solstice Class ship marked the turning point, perhaps. The first three ships in the series featured solar powered elevators, an actual full-sized tree in the atrium, free live glass blowing shows on the deck with experts from Cornell University giving commentary, a large area with real grass, a museum, and a massive library dominated by an enormous globe. By the time the last ships in the series were built, things started to change.

Gone were the glass shows, replaced by a speciality restaurant. Grass area was reduced. More cabins were added at the expense of public space. The feeling of traveling in something “special” was diminished.

In the 2010s, ships got bigger. MUCH bigger. This began the era of “the ship is the destination,” and while the Oasis Class ships (nearly the size of 5 Titanics) are wonders to behold, there’s a problem—they can’t fit anywhere interesting. Nassau? Sure. St. Thomas? Yep. CocoCay, the private island? Absolutely! But smaller ports were very difficult and were ultimately ignored for the most part.

Icon of the Seas, currently the world’s largest ship, is so big that it will never see the likes of Venice or Bar Harbor. In fact, cruise ships have been banned (or restricted) in those places because of their size. It’s not only the literal size of the ship that’s the problem, it’s the number of people being disgorged into the town that created the biggest strife. The population of Bar Harbor or Key West can double or triple if there are enough ships in port.

So cruise lines went for a balance. They had big ships for the folks who weren’t interested in seeing ports as much, and the “smaller” ships for the true explorers. The actually small ships were retired.

And then came COVID.

Here There Be Dragons

COVID nearly destroyed the cruising industry. Not only could people not travel, the cruise lines were being blamed for spreading the disease, and not without reason. While cruises have always been associated with disease (due to record keeping more than any unusual risk. Imagine if Vegas could keep records) folks were convinced that anyone going on a cruise would get COVID and die, as some did.

The cruises lines panicked. Stocks dropped, and the future seemed very uncertain for what had been a growing industry.

But they survived. In fact, my wife Jen and I were on the first North American cruise allowed to sail during COVID, and it was a decent trip. But there were changes. Room service was severely cut back. The buffet was half the size. Activities were very limited, and the cabin was serviced only once a day. No big deal we thought, things will return to normal after COVID.

They did not.

The New Normal

Instead, the cruise lines who had lost 1-2 years of revenue learned that people who’d been cooped up for two years would accept a lot less without expecting a reduction in fares. This was especially true of new cruisers, who had never experienced the glory days. Experienced cruises with loyalty status patiently waited for things to get back to normal, but to date, they haven’t. They’ve only gotten worse. And those with high loyalty status are angry about it, myself included. It turns out that our loyalty was strictly a one-way proposition.

Now, in 2024, the standard mass-market cruise (think Royal Caribbean, Carnival, Princess, Celebrity, NCL, and so on) costs more and offers less than ever before. You’re still promised a week of luxury, but what you get is a week of being treated like a source of revenue rather than an honored guest.

This even extends to the ports. Nearly all ships visiting the Caribbean stop at a private island, which is essentially an extension of the ship. And Royal Caribbean has announced that they're creating a private destination in Cozumel that will whisk passengers away from actual Mexico and deposit them on a sanitized and controlled extension of the ship. Visit Mexico without visiting Mexico! Ahh, paradise...

I took a cruise in December 2023 aboard Celebrity Infinity. Once one of the largest ships, it’s now considered small at 2.5 Titanics. As such, it can go to interesting places. My cruise left from Barcelona and went to several of the Canary Islands, followed by ports in Morocco and Spain. It was a great itinerary, and a great trip for an explorer.

But it was a terrible trip for a cruiser, especially one with loyalty status. (I’ll release another story about an interaction with a dining department head in the future.)

While the price was relatively low due to time of year and some operational changes at the last minute, the value was also low. And THAT is what matters—value. More on that later.

The App

Then there is the annoyance that is “the app.” It rhymes with “crap” and it often is. Difficult to use, often wrong, and yet increasingly looked at as a substitute for paper, the app that these ships use reduces the cruising experience when it should enhance it. Royal and Celebrity’s app, basically the same, is mostly non-functional. If you want to view your bill, you have to disable several obscure security features on your iPhone. The times and places are often incorrect. Princess, who has embraced their app more than anyone, actually had slot machines incorporated so you could gamble with your credit card while lounging on the deck. They all claim to have a messaging service, but it never works. It’s handy to have a digital deck plan in your pocket, but a PDF saved from the web would be more useful.

These things are hard to use for even young people, and for older people who didn’t grow up with technology or who have failing eyesight, they’re literally impossible. Paper schedules can be had, but only with eye rolling and special arrangements.

The Disappearing Act

I had a very positive regard for Celebrity and her sister brand, Royal Caribbean, and used them almost exclusively for my group trips that I’ve done annually since 2006, starting with the now fallow James Randi Educational Foundation. (My father Joe Wagg was an integral part of getting these trips going.) I’ve always been disappointed when I tried another brand like NCL, Holland America, or Princess. They just didn’t have the magic that Royal and Celebrity did.

But this most recent cruise showed me that the magic is gone. It’s all about revenue now, and if you want to play, you have to pay. A lot.

First, most ships now have classes of service, just like back in the Titanic days. While there’s no steerage class, there is certainly a first and second class, with the majority of cruisers being in the third class. First and second classes have their own restaurants, get preferred seating for entertainment and shore excursions, and have a butler or other person servicing them. A large portion of the ship is blocked off only for them, and includes their own lounge, snack area and concierge.

On some Celebrity ships, the entire top forward deck is reserved, meaning there’s no place for a third class passenger to look forward from the deck. For those of us who love ships, this is a bitter disappointment. For others, it’s just a reminder that you’re not very important.

Yes, they pay a lot more, but for those who don’t pay, you spend most of your cruise being told that you should have, and “look what you’re missing!” Fights have broken out when guests with high loyalty status were pushed aside by someone with a suite. Money, not loyalty, is what matters. Those of you proud of your Zenith level on Celebrity need to realize that the first-time cruiser in a suite is simply more valued than you are.

What you’re “missing” is the old experience that all cruises once had. Excellent food: included. Superb customer service: included. A sense that you’re valued: included. Or at least it should be. Many have reported that even at the highest levels of cruising on mass market ships, the experience left them disappointed.

But it doesn’t end there. The activity schedule which once displayed a wide variety of free activities is now dominated by revenue-generating “experiences”. Wine Tasting - $35. Ship’s Tour (formerly free) $195. Napkin Folding class $15. Free Champagne at the Diamond store (uh huh), or the oldest scam on the high seas, the art auction, which was once something you could ignore but has become larger and larger, taking over more and more public area and being promoted as one of the “features” of the ship. The spa continues its pseudoscientific fleecing, though with higher prices and even more dubious treatments.

And remember, the cruise fares are higher than ever. I have many more stories from several ships that illustrate this point, but you get it: you’re paying more for a whole lot less, and that’s a shame.

Plotting A New Course

So what’s one to do? Give up cruising?

The Best Course

That’s always an option of course, but there are two others. The best option (if you can afford it) is to abandon mass-market cruising altogether. Spend more money and get on Viking or Regent or AmaWaterways. It’s a LOT more money, but it’s a better VALUE. You will get what you pay for. Or start heading towards expedition cruises to destinations like Antarctica, the Amazon, or Galapagos. This is a totally different experience, but if you’re more interested in exploring than relaxing, you’ll find these much more rewarding.

The True Course

Alas, spending considerably more money isn’t an option for everyone. So there is another option.

Go cheap.

I recently took a short cruise on MSC Magnifica with my wife, Jen. MSC is a relatively new line to the Americas, but from an old Swiss-owned Italian company that does a lot more cargo than it does cruising. They’ve ramped up the cruising the last 20 years, and are now competing actively with Royal Caribbean and Carnival. But there’s a major difference—their prices tend to be much lower.

My experience of MSC was surreal. Everything is a bit different, and as a veteran of 40-something cruises, cruising with MSC felt very much like visiting another country that speaks the same language, but not in the same way. Things were familiar, but notably odd.

There were few activities (it seemed like the whole ship turned out for trivia), an incredible number of bars (all with cappuccino machines), and a bizarrely-complex life-boat drill (you had to call someone to tell them you completed it). Some guests had to settle up at the end through a machine in the lobby rather than just having everything billed to their card. Names of things were strange, with Shore Excursions being called “The Travel Agency” and when I asked for a deck plan, no one knew what I was talking about. After 20 minutes of negotiation, a department head printed out something from the web.

The buffet was among the worst I’d ever seen, in fact, it was called a “cafeteria” on signage, and that’s the best description of it. If you can imagine a high school cafeteria with upholstered seats and pseudo-Saharan decor, you get the idea. Dinner in the main dining room was a little better, but not much. While most of it was truly fine, I had literally the worst plate ever on this cruise. It was so bad, I had to show it to the Maitre’D who said “They do what they can.” None of it could have been considered “fine dining.” The one specialty restaurant, a sushi bar, was adequate but nothing special.

Despite all that, the rooms were large, the ship (15 years old) was immaculate, and the staff was friendly. We had our room serviced twice a day, and the drink packages and tips were lower than on other lines. I can’t mention the cost because we were traveling on agent’s rates, but it was less than our airfare to Miami from Chicago.

And here’s where things get strange: I’m recommending MSC to you and will be doing my next big group trip with them.

The Value Proposition

Why? VALUE. When you get what you expect and then some, that’s a good value. And with MSC, the pricing matches the product. No, it’s nowhere near as good as Celebrity circa 2015, but neither is Celebrity! Or any of their direct competitors. While they’ve all cut services and increased prices, MSC follows its own drummer with a lower-level of product at a much lower price. And: no shareholders.

For the explorer, MSC has much better ports and more interesting itineraries. For groups, they offer more casual meeting space than any other ships I’ve seen. For the quiet reader, you may not find a library, but you can certainly find a comfortable chair and a nice view. And for the partiers - the low-priced drink packages will certainly help.

You will pay less, and get less - but you’ll get more than you expected. And my bet here is that if you board an MSC cruise as a group, the group will create the bulk of your memories and the deficiencies in cuisine will be bonding moments. (We STILL joke about the food on Costa Fortuna, an Italian ship that apparently followed the culinary practices of Chef Boyardee.) Plus, with the food being missable, you’re incentivized to try cuisine in the ports, and with the low price of the cruise, you can afford it.

The Wake

I am deeply saddened to have lost the experience you could have on Celebrity Solstice circa 2010, Quantum of the Seas circa 2015 or Celebrity Edge circa 2018 (not to mention the decades that Holland America was the seasoned cruisers line of choice), but we must work with what we have. And what we have is high-end cruising, expedition cruising, and MSC.

That’s where the value is, and value is the most important measure of any purchase.

If you’re curious about the cruises I organize, please join the Curious Adventurers Guild on Facebook, or drop me a line a via email. These missives are NOT intended to drum up business—there is no business. There’s just a group of curious people looking for different ways to experience the world, and I’ll try to facilitate that the best I can.

Jeff Wagg, 30 June 2024