Cruise Director Bruce starts the Disembarkation Talk, not always a happy time.

After the talk, the crew came out for a farewell song.

Our Steward Jun saw us and waved at us.

At lunch, the wake of the ship seemed to symbolize our trip nearing its end.

A view of our cabin just before we began packing . . .

. . . looking toward the verandah.

In the Passengers Talent Show, the “Tai Cheek Dancers” put on a very clever act . . .

. . . pretending to flash and yet at the same time hiding . . .

. . . fortunately they all wore boxers.

This was the HAL Chorale, led by Bruce, who had studied at Julliard.

After dinner, the dining room stewards sang a farewell song.

Squeekie with Kelly, the Internet Manager who helped us to stay in touch with the rest of the world all through the cruise—thanks, Kelly!

Squeekie being pensive about our cruise coming to an end.

On our last day at sea before Florida, Squeekie enjoys one last breakfast out on the back deck behind the Lido.

The only fun event of this day was Squeekie’s modeling of jewelry.

As always, she did a wonderful job and turned heads.

She modeled a sapphire and diamond pendant.

These were the models for this last display of jewelry on the cruise.

One of the models was Irmgard, a German lady from Canada, who also was on my trivia team.

After the modeling, Squeekie posed with our friends Sheryl (left) and Manuela (right).

In the early afternoon, the stewards were already handling huge amounts of luggage for those about to disembark from the cruise.

On our way to dinner, Squeekie points to the map to show that the cruise has almost come to an end.

Squeek poses with Tom, the Dining Room Manager.

Moss took this picture just after midnight; the stewards are still overwhelmed by the huge amount of luggage being sent down to A Deck to be offloaded in a few hours.

Just after 4:30 AM, and the lights of Fort Lauderdale are brightening the horizon.

Rotterdam is slipping in the the harbour at Fort Lauderdale.

Squeekie and I are not too happy that our trip is coming to an end.

The lights of Fort Lauderdale somehow do not seem very welcoming.

Rotterdam is backing down to her pier.

As the sun rises over the Atlantic Ocean, we have docked. Our cruise has ended.

From our veranda we watch as the ship prepares for the next leg of her journey . . .

. . . but we won’t be aboard, for we are about to fly home.

As our bus leaves for the airport, we look back at Fort Lauderdale’s cruise terminal.

As our airplane lifts off from Miami, we look out over the coast of Florida.

We are lifting up to 35,000 feet, but still we can see the coastal towns of Florida.

There, in the distance, is our Rotterdam at Fort Lauderdale—this is our last look at her.

On the leg from Dulles to Los Angeles, we settle in for a long flight over the continent; Moss works on his blog . . .

. . . while Squeek works on her journal, eats lunch, and has some wine. Our cruise is over, and we are on our way to becoming “pumpkins” again.



One Hundred and Twelfth Day (Monday, May 11, 2009)-- Today, our one hundred and twelfth day at sea, was the last day we could try to still be on a cruise, even though the real world tried to hammer in at some moments. We enjoyed a last breakfast on the back deck behind the Lido, and Squeek went to a “Sports of Call” activity. At 10 AM Squeek went into the Queen’s Lounge to save two seats for us for the Disembarkation talk which was soon to come. I joined her a few minutes later, and we listened as Cruise Director Bruce did his best to keep this important talk entertaining as well. At the end, a video was presented in which crew members said their video farewells—it was a nice job and there were more than a few wet eyes in the audience. Members of the crew came out on the stage and sang the popular song “Love in Any Language,” which I recall from other Holland-America cruises I have been on.

The Bridge was auctioning off another map used on the cruise, and I wanted it because I had not been able to bid high enough for the previous one, but this was a failure as well. I was astounded that the winning bid this time was $1,100! A third map also was offered, but the opening bid was for $500—way out of my league! At lunch time Olav joined us for lunch and we had a nice chat with him about the ship and its gossip. We really like this energetic and skilled man, and thank him for being such a friend to us!

At 2:30 in the afternoon the Passengers’ Talent Show was offered in the Queen’s Lounge, and of course we could not miss it! Squeekie was interested in the HAL Chorale because several of her friends were singing in it, but I was just interested to see what our fellow passengers could do. It was an interesting range of talents: singers, comedians, a woman who did bird calls, a pianist, and so forth. But by far the funniest of all the acts was a group of men who called themselves the “Tai Cheek Dancers.” They came on stage wearing HAL terrycloth bathrobes and did a closely choreographed dance where they appeared to be flashing each other but also holding their robes (open and closed) in such a way that the audience never saw if they were wearing anything beneath the robes. It was a clever act and well performed. (At the end they did flash the audience, who saw that each man was wearing boxer shorts.)

After this funny event was over we returned to our room to begin the very painful task of packing our stuff to go home, something we really did NOT wish to do. We began with the books I have bought all along the trip. Squeekie began taking town the pictures, certificates, maps, and other items we have taped up on our walls to decorate our cabin, and she cried openly much of the time. At 5:30 she went to redeem the last of her “Dam Dollars” earned in the “Sports of Call” activities; she got a nice duffel bag to take things home, and a baseball cap. She also stopped in and got some empty boxes from her friend Sheryl, in which I can place some of the books I have bought (106 in total, plus about a dozen DVDs).

Very late in the afternoon a “Brightstar” announcement was made over the public address system. We later learned from good sources that an older man—Squeek called him Neanderthal Man—had died quite suddenly. This was second confirmed death of a guest (but there may have been as many as six, though we are not certain). He had lip-synced a nice operatic piece in the talent show earlier in the afternoon, and it was a shame that he had to die on the cruise. As Squeekie observed in her journal entry, “At least he died happy; he got his entire around-the-world cruise and had a successful final performance.”

We had hoped to eat dinner with Captain Olav this evening, but this was not to be. Our dinner in the LaFontaine was quiet and somber, as virtually all of the ship’s guests seem to be sad about the impending end of this wonderful voyage (although a few are sailing on to New York and some to Rotterdam). All through the day Squeekie has been teary and I have had moments, too, where I really wanted to sit down and cry, or stand up and shout “I don’t want all of this to end!” I must observe that we have been treated so well by the people on board this ship! It is really nice to be treated as though you were someone special rather than a nobody, or the carrier of an unwelcome problem.

At the end of dinner this evening, the Dining Room staff sang a farewell song that had the guests get emotional—it was one more reminder that this wonderful cruise is coming to an end. After dinner, we spent some time in the Photo Gallery selecting the pictures we wished to purchase and take home. It was a long discussion occasionally leavened with some disagreement, but I am happy that we have picked the best of the lot.


One Hundred and Thirteenth Day (Tuesday, May 12, 2009)-- at sea

Today is the day when it really hit home that our journey around the world is coming to an end. We spent most of the day—and well into the night—packing. We had arrived aboard the Rotterdam with a total of eight items of luggage, seven various-sized suitcases and one box. We will go home tomorrow with sixteen items of luggage: the seven suitcases we brought, five boxes (four of which Squeekie obtained from Sheryl), and four new items of luggage (the two new duffles we received as gifts from Holland-America, one duffle we brought empty from home, and one duffle Squeek bought with the “Dam Dollars” she earned in the sporting events in which she had participated). I am glad that Squeek also brought bubble wrap, packing tape, and heavy markers to facilitate the packing, but we could have used more tape, heavy strapping (and the device to tie the strapping), and maybe a few strong boxes for shipping.

We were devastated to learn that Holland-America’s shipping team, who were facilitating the shipping of items through FedEx, ran out of shipping labels and zip ties, which added more work for us on the dock tomorrow.

Indeed I must add that it was a day of sniffles and moodiness interspersed with the work to get all of our stuff packed. Squeekie, who has been having moments of moodiness for the last several days, occasionally broke out into real tears today. A moment of particular sadness came when she was packing the stuffed animals for shipment home. Raffles, the tiger cub from Singapore; Moosie, the HAL Moose which came as a gift; the rhino from Africa; the twin monkeys Rafi and Riki; even the little sea turtle just purchased a few days earlier in Barbados; each was packed away with a tear and several hugs. And I confess that I was moody and grumpy today myself, saddened as much by the tears my wonderful wife has shed as by the impending reality of the end of our grand voyage around the world. Even a break for ice cream in the Lido could not separate us from our moods.

The only real break in this mainly unhappy day was Squeekie’s last modeling of jewelry for the on-board Signature Shop. She had been asked by the Manager, Mary, and was pleased to undertake her third modeling of this trip (she was not asked for the second of the four jewelry modeling activities). As always, she did a wonderful job, and received many compliments on her beauty as well as the skill with which she displayed her sapphire and diamond pendant.

Another issue on this day mostly filled with emotion and work was a phone call from Kim de Klerck, the Pinnacle Manager, who said that she had contacted Captain Olav, who said that he was way too busy with end-of-voyage responsibilities to join us for dinner in the Pinnacle tonight. Squeekie was very upset by this, even though she understood about the Captain’s work load, because she really wanted to personally say good-bye to this fine officer who has shown us both so much kindness. I want the world to know that Captain Olav van der Waard is a “class act” officer, a fine mariner, and is well liked by guests and crew alike for his excellent direction of the ship in his charge. Olav, thank you!

And so we went to dinner in the LaFontaine Dining Room, our last seating there for this cruise. We were both pretty sad by the time dinner came around, but we came up with an interesting idea to ease the pain of parting. We still had one unopened bottle of Faulkner’s 2005 Port, and decided to bring it to the dining room and, at dessert time, open it and have Joe (our wine steward) serve it to the guests at some of the surrounding tables who had become our friends during the cruise. And this is exactly what we did. After we had finished our entrees, as had most of those at the surrounding tables, we had Joe go to work to pour and serve the Port. Gerry and Jimbo, the boys at the table immediately aft of ours, were hosting Marsha and Neil Steinbrunner, the couple from Laguna Woods tonight; the boys do not drink alcohol but the Steinbrunners enjoyed a glass each. At the big table next to ours, Don and Iris, Jim and Jessica, and Phyllis and Bob each welcomed a glass, and we also shared glasses with Doug and Alice and Jim and Linda at the table immediately forward of ours. I went to each table in turn and shared the story of how this was the Port served at our daughter’s wedding last August, and we wished to share a glass with each of them to thank them for their friendship on the world cruise. At each table in succession there were moments of sniffles, especially when Squeekie came over, but everyone thought highly of what we had done.

After dinner, and some teary good-byes to various people around the ship, we returned to our packing. By this time there was no room remaining in the Deck Six Portside hallway for us to set out our luggage for pick-up. But the stewards were already at work picking up the suitcases, boxes, and oddly-wrapped items, moving them to the forward elevator, and taking them down to A Deck for sorting out and storage overnight. Gradually we got our things packed. Squeek, always the efficient packer, had gotten me to pack up the day before all of the books I had purchased on this trip, so that heavy lifting job was finished (except for the labeling). But we were amazed at how much of what we had brought and bought had been squirreled away in our stateroom. Eleven o’clock came and went—still we were at it. All of the stuff in the hallways was moved into the elevator lobby, and still we were at it in our room. Finally—and I am not sure of the exact time, but I suspect it was just after midnight—Squeekie and I humped the last of our items out into the hallway. By this time we were both in our ‘jammies, but who cared—those who were leaving the ship tomorrow were all long in their beds, I have no doubt. I walked forward into the elevator lobby where some sweating stewards were still moving stuff into the elevators and down below to A Deck. We all stopped for a moment and chatted about this tough ending to what had been—for most of the crew as much as for the guests—a wonderful world voyage. Then it was back to a now very empty-seeming and bland Stateroom 6126 for one last night of sleep aboard the mighty Rotterdam.


One Hundred and Fourteenth Day (Wednesday, May 13, 2009)-- Fort Lauderdale and Home

I am not really certain when we got to bed last night, although I suspect it was after midnight before we had all of our luggage packed, strapped, tagged, and placed out in the hallway to be picked up for transportation to dockside. So you can imagine my (rather grumpy) surprise when Squeek’s alarm clock went off at 4:15 am!!! She got up, went out on our verandah for a look, and then came back in and said to me in a quiet voice, “We are nearing land, and you won’t want to miss it.”

We both dressed rapidly and worked our way forward to what has been for all of the cruise our favourite viewing spot—the open deck at the forward end of Deck Six, right below the windows of the Bridge. Sure enough, there on the western horizon, below a waning moon, was a line of lights which announced to us and to all of the world that the dynamic and majestic United States of America was in the offing! As we watched the line grew larger, brighter and gradually resolved into recognizeable structures. We were approaching the entrance to the harbour of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, renowned among those who cruise as perhaps the busiest port for cruise ships of anywhere in the world. We of course have been here before, but it was good to see our homeland approaching. Yes, both Squeekie and I are sad that this marvelous voyage has come to an end, but at the same time it is good to see our good old “US of A” again!

I am not sure how long we were out on the forward deck, but it must have been at least an hour. At last we heard the pilot boat approaching on the starboard side of the ship, just as the navigation lights at the entrance to the harbour appeared. We watched as the ship slowed and came into the mouth of the harbour, passing by the high-rise condo structure on the north side of the harbour (there was somebody on the tenth floor watching Rotterdam as she came in!). As she turned in the main basin and began to back down into her berth, we decided to go back to our stateroom to watch the docking, so we did. It was the last act in a play we have seen over and over again for these past four months: the stevedores tying up the ship to the bollards along the dock; Edwin supervising the set up of the gangway (although today this was just for crew because this dock has a jetway structure for passengers); trucks bringing supplies and removing waste (we saw the trash container be dropped off and watched as a sump truck began taking off the “blackwater” sewage); the various Customs officials coming on board, and so forth.

At 6:15 we had to report to the dining room to go through the Customs procedure. Now I really do not wish to insult our Customs people, but was it necessary to slow this important process by having trainees do the interviews and then checking with their supervisors before clearing people? Squeekie and I waited in line for over an hour—and the line was not that long in front of us—before we were called for our interview. Of course Squeekie had detailed records of our expenditures and we had to pay no extra customs duties on our purchases, especially when the officer saw that the books I had bought were used in my teaching and teaching research.

Then it was up to the Lido for one last breakfast, and a few more good-byes to friends and crew, and then it was back to the stateroom to await our call to disembark the mighty Rotterdam. All too soon that sad moment came, and Squeek and I filed along the jetway off the ship and into the large warehouse area to pick up all of our sixteen luggage items (they were all there) and make one last pass though Customs. Then we directed our two stevedores to run all of the luggage (except the five small, hand-carried items we were taking aboard the airplane) over to the FedEx truck to be correctly labeled for transshipment to Yorba Linda. I hope all of it gets home safely!

We took the Holland-America Line chartered bus from Fort Lauderdale on the short jaunt to Miami International Airport, where the stress of airline travel confronted us. The fast pace, intensity, and rude treatment given to most air travelers these days stands in painful contrast to the gentle politeness we enjoyed as guests of Holland-America Line! I won’t even dwell upon the noise and confusion of Miami Airport; rather I will just say that, as we waited for our flight to be called we endured our first non-HAL meal in four months. UGH!!

The first leg of our flight home was Miami to Washington-Dulles. Yes, we were in First Class, but the plane was old and not very well maintained. The best moment of the flight was just after taking off, when we passed over Fort Lauderdale and Squeekie was able to get one last photograph of our mighty Rotterdam—oh, so tiny down there—as we flew northwards. Washington-Dulles, one of our nation’s major air hubs, was even worse, but the flight to Los Angeles was aboard a still-somewhat new Boeing 777, and the First Class seats were comfortable and the service much better! I am writing these lines as we wing westwards, bouncing over “weather” in the Mississippi River Valley, coming closer to home.

A last, after the event, set of observations-- I will conclude this blog entry, and my account of our trip around the world, by saying that Holland-America is a wonderful company upon which to travel, as they still treat their passengers with respect. Their ships are well-maintained, their crew well-trained, and their officers professional in the best way. No, HAL is not paying me to say these words, this is how Squeekie and I REALLY feel!

When we landed at LAX, we were to be met by Bob and Nanci Spurgin and the girls, to drive us home. When Nanci saw us coming down the escalator, she immediately said out loud “Hello, World Travelers,” over and over. What a wonderful way to be greeted back home! Thanks, dear family, for this joyful reentry back into our corner of the world.

Over the summer months I will spend time finishing this blog and recrafting my writing into a book-length manuscript with pictures, just like I did after our Europe trip in 2007. I know that people will ask me—as they have already been asking Squeekie, how was our trip, what was it like, and we have come up with the only acceptable answer—it was AWESOME!