‘Welcome Home’ is the usual greeting at the bottom of the
gangway, when returning to ship after a day ashore.
I was greeted by a flood spreading along the hall way to my
cabin. This did not bode well for the cabin itself. And, indeed, a mirror like
surface of water greeted me at my open door. Inside – Bedlam! All suitcases were
piled on beds, shoes on chairs, everything that was stored at floor level
elevated (after it got wet of course) to ‘higher ground’. Boxes of paper
(supplies for onboard painting classes) were surrounded by puddles, which could
render contents fit for recycling class.
Apparently the vacuum system serving our area of the ship
had given up the ghost, caused possibly by the silt inundated waters of the
Amazon (if that indeed was used to flush the toilets) or some other mechanical
failure way down in the bowels of the ship. In any case, time for me and my
cabin mate to move to dryer quarters.
Other cabins in various areas of the ship as well as a
couple of public restrooms were affected similarly, and the grand Exodus was in
progress. Luckily, the ship is only partially full, and spare cabins were
easily available. The hall by the way, appeared like a mini canal, with shop
vacuums sucking up the mini lake and fans working full tilt to dry up the
moisture – not an easy thing to do in tropical latitudes. There was a bit of a traffic
jam, with suitcases, luggage carts, boxes, souvenirs all being carried and
pushed by owners and staff through a squishy swamp.
The entire row of bow end cabins on starboard side was
declared uninhabitable. The heavy duty metal door (designed to seal off and
contain ingress of outside water in case of emergency) was closed, this time to
contain the unmistakable odour of ‘something wrong with the plumbing’.
To make matters worse, a couple of nights later the ship
passed through a monsoon like rain storm at the ‘deserted’ time of night –
around 4 a.m.
The Prinsendam has an open pool deck amidships – no
retracting roof to close during inclement weather.
Hence a waterfall from heaven, combined with a swishing pool
overlapping onto the surrounding deck (we are back in Atlantic Ocean swells)
was too much to be absorbed by deck side scuppers. Crew by that time enjoyed
their well deserved scarce sleeping time and were not on hand to jump to the rescue
with sandbags and towels to seal any possible water ways.
The massive amount of water could do nothing else but
squeeze underneath every type of door leading inside the ship on the Lido Deck
and leisurely find ‘its own level’, starting with the large Lido Restaurant and
kitchen facilities.
That means the elevator shafts as well…The two aft elevators
were out of service ‘due to flooding’.
Morning had the Lido Restaurant converted into a wading
pool, with ‘red carpet treatment’. Plastic sponge like carpets, usually used
ashore as walkways to save people shoes when it rains, now covered the entire length
of the restaurant, where fans and vacs were working flat out to dry things up. Passengers
picked their way amongst all that to select their favourite breakfast delights
from the buffet (out of bananas in banana country) or order their special
treats from the kitchen staff, as the kitchen is the first to be put back in
order, when it comes to an event like this one.
The ‘winter garden’, Canaletto restaurant (ex Lido open air
aft deck,) had not escaped the deluge which invaded from amidships. Here, the
teak decks were flooded and wavelets meandered from port to starboard.
A bucket and mop brigade made up of crew, officers and
various others awakened from blissful sleep mopped up the mess. This is the
first time on this cruise, where the opening windows of the ‘winter garden’
were actually open – to air the place out. Normally they are closed, to keep
the air-conditioning in.
Even the door to the open air staircase descending from here
to the aft pool was open as well. It is normally off limits and closed; now it served
as a convenient opening for throwing out excess water.
One lives through it…apart from a forest of drying-fans, the
ship works normally again – except for the aft elevators, who take a little
longer to get back into dry stage and working safely.
Good incentive to climb a few more stairs!!
