One longtime cruiser reflects on past and present visits to the dazzling Atlantic island.
By Judi Cuervo
As the song says, “Bermuda is Another World.” And it certainly was to my friend Stacey and me when, in 1976 at 19 years of age, we arrived at this British colony aboard what we considered, at 39,000 grt, a massive cruise ship. The morning of our arrival we’d woken late — no wonder, since we’d been the last to leave the ship’s disco the night before — and escaped our tiny inside cabin in search of something that might pass for breakfast.
Finding the curtains drawn across the buffet stations and the dining-room doors shut tight, we wandered out on deck resigned to mark time until melodic chimes and an announcement of “Bon apetito” called us to lunch.
It was at that moment that Stacey and I saw for the first time the extraordinarily blue waters that had no relation whatsoever to the gray, roiling monster we’d seen lapping at the scratchy shores of Rockaway Beach or Coney Island. Bermuda was, indeed, another world and, in the days ahead, we’d discover pink-hued sand soft as powder and an ocean so crystal clear we could see straight down to our Cutex-painted toenails.
Bustle and Beauty
A lot has changed since that first visit to Bermuda, both the island itself and the cruising experience. Gone is Disco 40 in Hamilton, the “it” club for the younger set, filled each evening with locals, passengers, and crewmembers gyrating under flashing strobe lights to deafening dance tunes….
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