Ah, Bliss
Our first cruise marked our 10th wedding anniversary, and we were brimming with excitement. We anticipated relaxation, sun-soaked days, exquisite cuisine, and flawless service aboard Royal Caribbean’s Grandeur of the Seas. Stepping onto the ship, we were eager to explore and await our cabin’s readiness.
Our cabin, tucked on the third deck at the aft, felt like a trek to reach. As one of the smaller ships in Royal’s fleet, the Grandeur still had surprisingly long hallways. Our suitcases awaited us outside the door, and we unpacked while preparing for the mandatory muster drill—a ritual seasoned cruisers often dread.
Muster Drill: The Unwelcome Prelude
The muster drill required all passengers to gather at their assigned lifeboat stations for emergency instructions before the ship departed. For us newbies, it was a serious affair, but for others, it was an interruption to their festivities. We arrived early at our station, waiting as fellow passengers grumbled and shuffled in. The crew struggled to quiet the crowd for roll call, and the captain’s voice over the P.A. system was barely audible amid the chatter. We caught the essentials: loud alarm, life jackets, muster station. Little did we know, three nights later, these instructions would become our lifeline.
A Celebration Begins
This cruise was more than a vacation—it was a sanctuary. After years of personal challenges, our anniversary getaway promised rejuvenation. The ship’s vibrant energy enveloped us, and we dove into the experience.
The 70s Party
A highlight was the 70s-themed party in the main atrium, where half the ship converged. Passengers and crew danced to disco hits, the air electric with nostalgia. Exhausted but elated, we retired to our cabin around 11:00 p.m., unaware of the chaos awaiting us.
Bravo, Bravo, Bravo
At 2:45 a.m. on May 27, 2013, commotion in the hallway jolted us awake. Peering out, we saw crew members wrestling with a fire hose panel. They urged us to stay put, but as our door closed, thick smoke poured in. A fire raged just beyond a hatch opposite our cabin. The crew began pounding on doors, shouting for everyone to evacuate. Grabbing shoes, shirts, and my purse—still in pajamas—we fled through acrid smoke to the nearest stairwell.
Should We Jump Ship?
The ship’s alarm blared only after we reached the fifth deck’s muster stations. Lifeboats were lowered, doors open—an ominous sight. Code Bravo, the crew’s fire alert, had been activated. A panicked crew member blocked our path to our aft muster station, insisting it was unsafe. We hesitated, recalling the captain’s drill instructions, and realized we’d left our life jackets behind. As we neared our station, massive smoke plumes rose against the moonlight. We grabbed life jackets from another station’s stash, my husband briefly contemplating jumping overboard in his fear.
A Long, Tense Night
We joined our muster station leaders as close to our assigned spot as possible. They scanned my Sea Pass card, manually accounting for my husband, who’d left his card behind. Soon, the captain directed us to the theater at the ship’s bow, where five other muster groups converged.
The captain’s updates painted a grim picture: the crew struggled to reach the fire, we were steaming toward the Bahamas, and the U.S. Coast Guard and a Carnival ship stood by for potential evacuation. Passengers requested medications and oxygen tanks, with crew retrieving them when safe. Escorted bathroom trips ensured accountability. Hours later, the captain announced the fire was contained. By morning, we docked in Freeport, our vacation abruptly ended.
Aftermath and Recovery
Royal Caribbean’s response was commendable. Our smoke- and water-damaged cabin forced us into a comfortable Freeport hotel for the night. The next day, we were flown back to Baltimore at no cost, received a full refund, and a voucher for a future cruise. Six months later, we cruised to Bermuda—a healing, wonderful trip. Despite initial apprehension, the crew’s professionalism during the emergency bolstered our confidence in Royal Caribbean, earning our loyalty.
Lessons Learned
The ordeal taught us critical lessons for cruise safety:
Stay Calm
Panic leads to poor decisions. Crew members, trained extensively, are your best resource in a crisis.
Take Alarms Seriously
Alarms aren’t pranks. Act swiftly, as danger may not be immediately visible. We fled smoke while others complained about disrupted sleep.
Heed the Muster Drill
Pay attention during the drill, noting your station and crew leaders. This knowledge helps you stay calm and adapt to changes, like our relocation to the theater.
Know Your Life Jackets
Locate life jackets in your cabin and at muster stations. Grab them when evacuating, or know where to find spares on deck.
Dress Smartly
Sleep in modest clothing and grab attire if possible. Cold decks and long waits are uncomfortable in pajamas.
Keep Your Ship ID Accessible
Store Sea Pass cards in an easily reachable spot to streamline roll call.
Secure Valuables
Use the cabin safe for passports and credit cards. Our belongings, though smoky, were intact, but water damaged nearby cabins.
Bring Medications
Muster drills now emphasize bringing medications. We overlooked my husband’s, but thankfully, it wasn’t critical.
Follow Crew Instructions
Cooperate with the crew, who remain professional despite their own stress. Their guidance kept us safe.
In the End…
Though our dream cruise ended in disaster, the crew’s competence inspired confidence. Our next cruise, months later, reaffirmed our love for cruising and loyalty to Royal Caribbean.
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About
Joy is the Co-Founder & Content Manager/Expert for CruisePortAdvisor.com and one of the founders of the site. She loves to travel, sing & bake.
