CRUISES: Windjamming the Caribbean

Story and photography by
Nancy & Eric Anderson 

  

In October 2007 the cruise world was startled to hear that Cap’n Mike’s Barefoot Cruises had apparently quit business leaving passengers metaphorically all at sea with their vacation plans. It was hard for us to comprehend as one of the company’s windjammer cruises had been such fun for us years before. 

It still seems like yesterday. We can still picture it. Behind was New York City and San Juan airport. Noise. Bustle. Confusion. Chaos. Ahead was our launch, and bobbing at anchor beyond it, one of the last great sailing ships of the world: the Windjammer Flying Cloud.

It was hot. Our feet were aching. Our throats were parched. Would the trip be worth the bother? We peered up at the two hundred feet long barquentine as we approached but we were squinting into the sun and the ship was a mere silhouette.

We climbed up and joined the line of passengers waiting to get their cabin numbers. Another queue, we thought. Travel seemed to be a theme of constantly standing in line. Suddenly a cooling wind blew across the ship carrying with it a song from the deck radio, Jimmy Buffett, the Caribbean poet laureate. The ballad rang out, "Changes in Latitudes - Changes in Attitudes." As if to demonstrate, John the steward, his white teeth flashing in a welcome smile thrust a cool drink into our hands. "Go for it," he grinned and suddenly a wonderful week of windjamming had begun.

A week with Cap'n Mike's Windjammers was like no other vacation trip we'd ever had. It was a laid-back lazy experience and it recaptured what used to be important in vacations before the modern frantic pace became the ridiculous norm for holiday travel.

Windjamming, We'd eat great meals sitting family style with congenial companions yet we wouldn’t know their last names or what they did till the end of the cruise.

We’d plan to visit islands famous in folklore and legends next day, yet if where we were today was more than marvelous, perhaps the Flying Cloud might change its plans and let us stay just where we are to enjoy another day of perfection with clean white sand and un-crowded beaches.

We’d find our captain and his crew at times wacky enough they could joint Monty Python's circus, yet on correct sailing practices and safety at sea, so strict we knew we were sailing with professionals.

"Where we go depends on weather and sea," said the then captain, Adrian Goldsbrough, at the first "Captain's Story Time" for passengers. "If sailing conditions are not good in one direction, we won't go there, being that I still ascribe to the school of thought that the world is flat; and I don't want you to fall off." Goldsbrough warned his guests that although smoking is allowed on deck it was absolutely forbidden below. Indeed, any passenger found smoking below decks would be immediately put off the ship. Fortunately, persons who sail on ships made of wood understand those rules and abide by them. There weren’t any other rules except we had to enjoy ourselves. This was an easy command to obey because the crew was totally committed to making our cruise pleasant and determined to be reasonable about any of our requests.

And we knew we would enjoy ourselves in the British Virgin Islands because the location was great, the weather was superb and though the cabins were small they were air conditioned and clean. The sails tended to stop the ship from rolling and seasickness was not really a problem.

Much of the business Cap'n Mike Burke started in 1947 is repeat business. Old Salts who had sailed with him before get a modest reduction on subsequent cruises. Other sailing organizations used to look wistfully at the figures for the Windjammers. "His ships consistently sail out of harbor with close to a full compliment on board," one competitor once told us. "I don't know how he does it."

It's easy to see why the boats were full. There were six eating opportunities a day with Bloody Marys in the morning, rum swizzles in the evenings, and wine at dinner all free. (Tradition had it in those happier days that whenever the Captain mentioned 5 pm would be Swizzle Time, the louder the cheer from the passengers the greater the number of bottles of rum used in the punch -- the record apparently being eight.)

But the boats were full for other reasons too. Passengers in the Flying Cloud swam at Virgin Gorda's Baths, the best snorkeling in the British Virgin Islands, and relaxed later at Tortola's Cane Garden Bay, the most beautiful beach in the islands. In those days before America was so litigious, and before the company lost its Fantome at sea, passengers could also learn to dive at $25 a dive, or rent for $15 a week snorkeling gear if they preferred to stay on the surface.

The dive boat had just come alongside at that moment with its instructor and three students: a hardware executive and a nurse from an intensive care unit both from California, and a newly qualified dentist from New York City.

"We saw a four foot barracuda, a four foot Moray Eel, a nine foot nurse shark and a huge sea turtle," said the dentist enthusiastically – it was his first dive in two years. But we didn’t have to be busy. We could just lie around and relax even though our new acquaintances were taking part in Theme Parties, Treasure Hunts and beachcombing trips to romantic islands like Norman Island its caves substantiating its claim to be Stevenson's Treasure Island, Dead Chest Island where Blackbeard marooned his recalcitrant crew, and mountainous Jost Van Dyke, the home of another infamous pirate. The days passed quickly and when the Flying Cloud finally docked at Road Town, passengers streamed off with happy smiles and sunburned noses.

They were heading for Tortola airport to pick up their Air BVI flight - but not all. There was a line at the telephone kiosk. A bunch of passengers were calling the United States to ask for extension of their vacation time. They were staying aboard for another cruise! And John, the steward, was a conspirator. He was handing them cold drinks and saying, "Go for it."