On the Map: Surviving Martha’s Vineyard (A Harrowing Cruise Catastrophe)
On the Map is a feature at LGBTSr for the not-so-weary traveler.
By Mark McNease
We just went on another great cruise, which is my favorite way to vacation. For me it means no cat litter, no chores, no obligations, and no appointments. I get on the ship and go where it takes us. And as much as I’ve enjoyed the different ports we’ve been to over the years, I also luxuriate in sea days. Nothing to do but relax, read books, and of course eat. Food is the one great, irresistible temptation on a cruise for me. Judging by the other passengers, it’s just as much of an attraction for them. The only drawback this time is that I’ve been on a GLP-1 medication since August and lost 30 lbs. I knew it was going to be a challenge not to backslide. Now that we’ve been home for almost a week, I think the damage was minimal.
The cruise went from Bayonne, NJ, where we prefer to leave from so there aren’t any flights involved. We sailed from there to Martha’s Vineyard, then on to Charleston, SC, and finally to Bermuda. We’ve been to Charleston and Bermuda before, and there wasn’t any particular reason I wanted to go again except that’s where the ship went. The real experience this time was Martha’s Vineyard and our near-death experience in a lifeboat masquerading as a tender.
Cruise ships are too large to actually dock at the Vineyard so they transport you from ship to land using small boats (tenders). Most times the ship hires a local third party to provide the tenders, but this time they used lifeboats. We knew the weather was going to be raining the day we were there, but no one expected what happened. We got on land in about 15 minutes, and discovered that on offseason there’s really not much happening at Martha’s Vineyard. We didn’t venture far from the ship, just walked around the little town area that’s there and bought some souvenirs, followed by lunch. The weather was getting worse so we decided to head back, and that’s when the harrowing experience began.
Fog had rolled in, making visibility zero. The little tender-slash-lifeboats could only go in one direction due to maritime protocol—they could not pass each other, one going there while another came back. That meant the three they had in operation had to load, then motor very slowly back to the ship, unload and return. We ended up spending 2 1/2 hours standing in a line in the rain waiting to get on one of these little boats and hopefully make it back onboard alive. The water itself was extremely rocky. We finally got on a lifeboat and headed out, but it was like being on a roller coaster. At any moment it felt like we would capsize, even though I was fairly certain we wouldn’t. About a half dozen people got sick and threw up into the barf bags they had provided, knowing how rough it would be.
They gave us blankets while we waited in the rain, which I kept. I figured that was the least they could provide us for having survived this nightmare. I also imagine someone got written up by the cruise company. They should never have let anyone off the ship. On the upside, it gave everybody something to talk about for the rest of the cruise. “I survived Martha’s Vineyard!” That’s what I want on my next T-shirt. The rest of the cruise was not terribly eventful. I’m not a big fan of Charleston. It was the nation’s slave selling capital, which you are well aware of when you’re there, and I just find it all a little depressing. We did take a horse carriage tour and that was fun. At first I wasn’t going to because I know that horse carriages are very controversial, especially in New York City where the horses have been known to be badly treated. I did not get that sense with these animals at all. Our driver had an obviously close relationship to the horse, Chester, and you could tell he took very good care of him.
Food in Charleston is known for being amazing. It’s also mostly fried, very fattening, and not for the week of stomach. My GERD didn’t appreciate the meal, but the food was incredible. Other than that, I have no desire to go to Charleston again. I’d have to say the same for Bermuda. It’s a frequent destination from where we sail out of, but we’ve been there four times and it’s just not something I need to repeat.
We have one more cruise this year, which will be the third for 2025. This one involves a flight to Rome, where we’ve never been, followed by sailing around the Mediterranean, and then back to Bayonne. What’s really nice about this is that we only have to fly one way. And then in 2026 we head to California to visit my sister, followed by a seven night cruise to Mexico. We’ve decided not to do more than two a year after this.
I still love cruising, but I also love getting home. The cats are here, the house is here, the garden is here, our lives are here. There really is no place like home … until the next port of call.
