The M/V Mayan Prince of the American Canadian Caribbean Line (ACCL). Home for a season in the summer of 1996. And where I met my wife.
The Story, Part I
It was the early spring of 1996. I had left Skidmore College after my sophomore year (’94-’95), unsure of what I was doing there, and went through the worst year of my life. I bounced between unemployment and odd jobs. I worked as a maintenance guy at my old school until they couldn’t pay me any more (eternally grateful for that job), at an automotive salvage yard in the depths of winter (worst experience I’ve ever had), and as an installer and technician for Invisible Fence for pets. It was a truly low point in my life.
Then I came across a classified ad for deckhands, no experience required. I applied, interviewed, and was hired on as crew aboard the Caribbean Prince. At the last minute, that was changed, and I was flown to West Palm Beach, Florida, to meet the M/V Mayan Prince, just back from a season in Panama.
It was my first time flying alone, I got to take a swank Town Car to Palm Beach Gardens, and that’s where I laid eyes on the ship for the first time. She’d just made the crossing from the Caribbean, and had left behind a couple of Panamanian crew members, one of whom I was replacing. The crew still aboard were tired after a 5-month stint out of the country. I was the only new deckhand.
I (pardon the cliché) learned the ropes quickly and took to life aboard with zeal. A deckhand’s duties included everything from handling luggage and taking on galley stores to engine checks and generator switches. We handled lines when docking and getting underway, we polished brass and washed decks. We were the safety, security, and fire crews. We even got time at the helm. The days were long and filled with hard work, but it was fun.
We worked rotating shifts, meaning that I would work a midnight to 4AM shift one day, then that would be followed by the 6PM to midnight shift, then the next day the noon to 6PM, and so forth. The rotation worked backwards. Depending on the situation, we might have to work standby… half the shift before, half the shift after.
When we weren’t working, we were exploring or sleeping. There were 5 of us down in guys’ crew below decks. You went down the ladderway to the galley stores, took a right, and worked back to the men’s crew quarters. We were just ahead of the pump room and engine room. Guys’ crew divided in half. When you walked in, to the right (the port side, as you were facing the stern of the ship) were the rack for the engineer (who was only posted during the winter season) and the chef, and their head. To the left (starboard side) were four bunks in two pairs for the deckhands, and a second head. Due to the nature of the schedules it was often the case that I could have guys’ crew to myself. One deckhand on duty, one on standby, one exploring, and one sleeping. I will tell you I never slept better in my life than aboard the MP.
Our first trip was 15 days up the Intracoastal Waterway. We started in Palm Beach Gardens where a group of about 80 pax joined us, and worked our way North with stops in Titusville (for Cape Kennedy tours), St. Simons Island, Savannah, Charleston, Beaufort AND Beaufort, Norfolk, Baltimore, then up past New York City, through Long Island Sound and Narragansett Bay, and home to Warren, Rhode Island.
That first 15 day trip was surreal and fantastic. When we got back, I had a two week break while the ship underwent repairs after the long time away and refitting to prep her for the summer season. I had given away my car, had a pocket full of cash, and two weeks to myself.
I bought a cheap 1981 Honda CB650 Custom motorcycle with a weak alternator and a rattle-can paint job and found myself riding across Massachusetts to the Berkshires to see my friend Micol. We rode around town together, me on my Honda, her on her moped. Her dad also let us take out their motorboat… the second motorized vessel I ever operated. The first being a tad larger. After a few days, I rode home.
I got bored again, scraped together the last of my cash, and rode down to Spring Lake, New Jersey to see my friend Suzanne at her family’s vacation home. It was a long slog, complete with breaking down in the tunnel of the GW Bridge, but I made it. I also got to drive my first 6-speed, her father’s brand new Porsche 911 C4. It was fantastic! On the ride home, my last whole $20 bill flew out of the pocket of my Israeli paratrooper’s pants on the highway. With just $3 and a little change left, I skipped the GW and rode north to the Tappan Zee with its lower toll, and just made it home on fumes.
The boat was scheduled for another round trip – 30 straight days – down and back up the ICW. Since I was one of the only deckhands with experience (a whole 15 days!), I was assigned the midnight-4AM shift, so I boarded, went right to my rack, and went to sleep. I was up while we were underway between NYC and Baltimore. In Baltimore, a couple of us went exploring the Inner Harbor (we were docked at the Aquarium), where I found a Sharper Image. I bought there a rather expensive stainless steel coffee mug, the kind with a wide base and a small mouth, perfect for a rolling ship. Returning to the ship proudly bearing my prize, I encountered one of the new stewardesses folding napkins in the dining area. She saw me strut aboard with this ridiculous purchase and had no idea what to make of me. Or that we’d still be together nearly 30 years later.
I still have the coffee cup, despite the captain’s efforts to steal it.
That’s enough for now… to be continued.
The Boat
The M/V Mayan Prince was 170′ with a 50′ beam. A “double-hull” design, she sat flat and shallow on the water. This made her ideal for inland waterways, not so great in deeper stuff with more active seas. She carried about 80ish passengers and 16 crew. There were usually 7 stewardesses, 4 deckhands, a chef, an assistant chef, the captain and first mate, and the Cruise Director. There was an engineer during the winter season, but the deckhands handled all the engineering during the summer, since she returned to the yard often enough for repairs to be deferred.
I was only aboard for about 7 months, but what a difference those 7 months made.
Sometime a few years later, Blount Marine sold her to the same line the CP had been sold to. The two ran Glacier Bay until that company found themselves in financial trouble. The two were laid up in Seattle, held by the Sheriff’s department, until another company took possession. They were refit for “adventure cruises” (complete with kayaking) for a younger crowd than we carried. They’re still in service out in Alaska as the Wilderness Adventurer (the CP) and the Wilderness Discoverer (MP).
The Crew
We were a motley group… all younger for the most part, and up for about anything. You didn’t take that job if you were sane. All of the stewardesses were young women, except for Shane. All of the deckhands were young men, except for Mariette (who would meet her fate years later with the loss of El Faro). We worked hard, partied hard, worked grueling hours, and had the time of our lives. There was drama, heartbreak, adventure, and tedium. I could never do it again, but I’m eternally grateful for the experience.
Some of the sights…
We ran the ICW from Florida to Rhode Island. I did 3 of those trips at 15 days each. We ran a couple of 6-day New England Islands cruises, hitting Nantucket, Martha’s Vineyard, Block Island, and Newport. And, we did a bunch of 12 day trips into Canada. That route took us down through NYC, up the Hudson to Troy, NY, where we picked up the Erie Canal. We converted to a canal boat and ran the canals to Oswego. The top of the ship went back up, and we crossed the edge of Lake Ontario into the St. Lawrence Seaway, where we proceeded north to Montreal, Quebec City, and the Saguenay River. We got to see 1000 Islands (Alexandria Bay), do whale watching at the mouth of the Saguenay, and spend time in Montreal, which is a great city (no offense, QC, but you know what you did).
