The Grand Manner

It is Day Four of our voyage, and I am in a reflective mood today. Tonight is the Captain’s Reception, complete with a champagne toast and formal wear in the dining room. Oh, yes, we have enjoyed these events before on our other cruises, but right now the trip out to Hawaii from the West Coast is the first leg of our circumnavigation voyage, and I got to thinking, how do the events on the Rotterdam in 2009 compare with the “Grand Manner” of earlier times?

On our last trip to Hawaii back in 2005 I had purchased a book entitled To Honolulu in Five Days, and at the last minute I packed this book to bring on our world cruise. It is a history of the old Matson liners which for over a half century sustained the tourist traffic to the Hawaiian Islands. I know that my maternal grandparents (Mr. & Mrs. William G. King, Jr.) made that trip aboard Matson’s Lurline in the mid-1930s, and that they had LOVED it. I got to thinking how Holland-America’s treatment of its passengers might compare with Matson’s passenger services in the grand days of the ocean liners in the 1920s, 1930s, and 1950s.

First off, there is the reception and departure from the west coast. If you have already read my blog comments for Day One, you know that I was very unhappy with how the embarking passengers were treated at the Port of Los Angeles’ World Cruise Center. I do not blame Holland-America for this; it is a function of the paranoia which has enveloped our society since 9/11. Once on board the Rotterdam and away from the gruff renta-cops, we were made to feel very welcome by the Holland-America staff. Even so, it is not possible to have the types of “Bon Voyage” parties that were customary in earlier times, because you cannot bring non-traveling party guests aboard the ship. The Matson book told how departure parties were a major activity on sailing day, and that advertisements were even spread through the community encouraging non-travelers—and strangers—to come down to the dock to participate in the party. The book even reproduced an advertisement from Holiday Magazine (remember that?) which said, “Sailing Day: You’re off into the blue Pacific with confetti in your hair.” This was a reference to the paper streamers (once called “serpentines”) which once were thrown at and by travelers as the liners departed. No longer is this possible due to environmental concerns. Yes, the Rotterdam staff did a nice job of throwing a “sailaway” party on the aft Lido deck as we sailed out of San Pedro, and yes, there was the farewell comment loudspeakered out to us as we passed by the Ports O’Call restaurant in San Pedro, but still, it was not the same as the bon voyage parties of old. So this one goes to earlier times—not the fault of Holland-America, rather a reflection of the paranoid society in which we live today.

Next I compare the types of accommodations between then and now. I this regard, I think that the modern cabins available aboard this ship—the Rotterdam—are in every way superior to what existed on the grand liners of earlier times. Oh, to be sure, the Lurline had deluxe suites, but aboard the Rotterdam every cabin is deluxe, even the interior ones down on deck one. All have their own bathrooms, none are shared—a big difference from the liners of yore. Every passenger cabin aboard the Rotterdam offers luxury and ample space for two or three persons, and contains sleeping, dressing, and sitting space. Our cabin on Deck 6, for example, has a king size bed, a dressing table, a couch, a table and chair for sitting and entertaining, enough wardrobe space to house all of our clothing needed for a 114-day world cruise, and a private verandah outside where we can lounge in comfort and watch the sea pass by. I won’t even go into the satellite system which allows passengers to watch television channels from around the world, a technology that was unimagined in the 1930s. So, on the issue of staterooms, the nod goes to Holland-America and its modern ships.

Squeekie sits on our private verandah doing a bit of reading of her Edison work and watching the Pacific roll by. What an office! Moss 2009-01-21-0525

Holland-America’s Rotterdam VI, the ship on which we are traveling; image from Holland-America website.


The public rooms aboard the Rotterdam are also superior to what was found on the old liners. There are numerous bars where all types of drinks—alcoholic or not—can be served up; and coffee bars as well, where the wide range of coffee drinks enjoyed by modern persons are available. The Rotterdam does not have just a writing room, it has a library with over 10,000 books, writing tables, and internet connections to the outside world thanks to satellite technology. I can type up my blog notes for the day, then go on line and send it to my blog server even though I am in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, hundreds—if not thousands—of miles from any major land mass. Entertainment has a venue, the Queen’s Lounge; if floor shows are not ones’ joy, then there is a cinema where current movies are shown several times a day and evening. There is a casino (something the old Lurline had to get rid of in 1952 thanks to the depredations of the Kefauver Crime Commission report which virtually eliminated casino gambling in the United States); and several places to dance—if that is your interest.

The book to which I referred earlier, To Honolulu in Five Days, tells of “the Grand Manner of Matson,” asserting that “service aboard the Lurline . . . was prompt, courteous, and gracious.” The same may be said—without qualification—of the service aboard the Rotterdam. We dine like royalty, and are pampered and indulged “twenty four seven.” Perhaps it may fairly be said that the Matson Company in the 1930s (for the service to Hawaii and the South Pacific), as well as the Holland-America of that same era (for service across the North Atlantic) had already perfected the organization and effort

Poster for Holland-America’s North Atlantic service in the 1930s; image from Holland-America website.

needed to provide good service to passengers who desired luxury, but it also must be said that the one shipping company that still sustains the “Grand Manner” tradition on the high seas in the twenty-first century is Holland-America! Oh, yes, there are other cruise companies who have fine vessels, but on Holland-America ships you still encounter the elegance and excellence that recall the social standards of yesteryear. For example, the officers of the ship wearing formal dress to meet the passengers one night early in the voyage.

Later in the day-- Tonight is the “Captain’s Reception,” when the Master of the vessel, Captain Olav van der Waard, would meet all passengers who chose to stand in a receiving line. After the passengers had gone through the line they were seated in the Queen’s Lounge and given champagne and hors d’oveurs. Then Captain Olav (as we call him) introduced the senior officers of the vessel and offered a toast to a successful voyage. It was good to see the Captain at his finest, resplendent in his formal uniform, offering pride, intensity, and a leavening of humor.

Captain van der Waard (centre, looking at the camera) introduces his officers and staff at the Captain’s Reception; Moss 2009-01-22-0553

After this event Squeekie and I stopped to have our picture taken. She was beautiful in her midnight blue gown, and I had on my tuxedo with the silver vest. As we were waiting our turn with the photographer, Captain Olav himself came walking by. He joined us in a picture and then asked us to join him and the Chief Officer Robert Jan Kan for dinner. We were VERY honoured! We enjoyed a very pleasant dinner in the Pinnacle with the Captain, catching up on previous cruises, friends, and family. What a wonderful experience!

Pic to come