The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
I took my first steps on a ship – and I was hooked
From 11 months, Ellen Murphy grew up at her cruise-loving grandparents’ side – the foundation of a lifelong love affair with the sea and some treasured memories that will not fade
Itook my first steps on the promenade deck of a cruise ship at 11 months old, my little sea legs kicking into action as I plodded unaided towards my mother’s outstretched arms. Little did I know the lifelong love affair those steps would start.
I was raised on stories of my family’s cruising adventures through the decades. My grandparents’ first cruise with their children was on the stately Reina del Mar – a revelation in its day, with private plumbing and air conditioning – although it was P&O’s Canberra, on which they travelled seven times before it was decommissioned in 1997, that occupied a special place in their hearts.
They would recount tales of the days before cruise ships overflowed with facilities, when a game of deck tennis or quoits would entertain the family for hours, followed by the “greasy pole” competition above the swimming pool – a favourite, I am told, and no doubt a health and safety nightmare.
It was only natural, then, that these sleek floating worlds would be part of my life from the very beginning. Over the years, the various cruises I have been on with my family have given me an abundance of memories: befriending monkeys as we descended the Rock of Gibraltar; getting lost in the scenic alleyways of Monte Carlo (“All roads lead to the port!” Grandad kept saying – and, luckily, they did); the sweet, floral air within the Madeira Botanical Gardens in Funchal, my brother and I dawdling behind the group doing our best David Attenborough impressions.
But it is the time I have spent onboard with my grandparents that I treasure the most. Relaxing on the sun deck, chatting to my grandma about the book she was reading, as she reminded me for the umpteenth time to use a bookmark instead of dog-earring the pages. We would play table tennis, too, knowing that, despite her gentle nature, Nan would never go easy on us: when she took up the paddle, you knew she meant business.
Bingo with Grandad was another staple of life at sea. The whole family would assemble in the late afternoon – Grandad equipped with our dauber pens, which he always seemed to have in surplus – and off we would go to the bingo hall, where he would gleefully chime in with the caller for our amusement: “22, two little ducks, quack quack” and so on.
As a teenager, I began to see our cruise holidays as a welcome chance to disconnect from the digital world. There was no reception out at sea, and little point connecting to the dodgy – and pricey – ship Wi-Fi. I had no way to “doom-scroll” through bad news, reply to group chats or waste time scrutinising which photo to upload to Instagram. As a result, the opportunities to peruse social media when the ship was docked felt like a treat, not a chore.
It was also in my teenage years that I began to appreciate the formal evenings on board – a few nights of each trip when guests were encouraged to switch up the usual smart-casual summer dresses and blazers for tuxedos, evening gowns and cocktail dresses. I would get ready with Mum and Nan in the cabin, trying out different styles, relying on their sartorial savvy until I learned what worked and what didn’t.
From my grandparents’ point of view, cruise holidays were two weeks of uninterrupted quality time with their family – a luxury more commonly reserved for Christmas or a summer barbecue. The cruises we went on catered to everyone, so they could relax in the knowledge that there were countless activities to keep us all occupied – them included (a waltz masterclass given by Anton Du Beke and Judy Murray on a Strictly
Come Dancing-themed cruise remains a highlight).
Before dinner, the family would gather in my grandparents’ cabin for games and gin and tonics. There would be a heated debate over who really won at Uno, then Grandad would dazzle us with card tricks – as children, we were always left in stunned silence when he produced exactly the card we were thinking of. After dinner, half of us would head to the theatre for the evening performance, the rest to the roulette tables, reconvening later at one of the bars. It was there that we inevitably accrued new holiday pals, as drinks were bought and stories swapped – after all, nowhere lends itself to making new friends quite like a cruise ship. My grandparents still exchange birthday and Christmas cards with people they met on ships decades ago, so strong were the bonds they formed.
Granted, cruising is not geared towards deep cultural immersion. Nonetheless, there is nothing quite like looking out at the ocean, feeling the morning sea breeze as you sip tea on your balcony, or by a stroke of luck glancing port side to catch sight of a pod of dolphins coasting effortlessly through the water, golden streams of sunlight flickering over the ship’s wake. But more than that, cruising with my grandparents has broadened my perspective on life and given me the courage to venture around the globe independently. More importantly, it has given me precious time with my family and allowed us the opportunity to visit some of the world’s most extraordinary places – together.
We played table tennis, knowing that when Nan picked up the paddle, she meant business