The morning after we sailed from Fort Lauderdale, we anchored offshore from the cruise line's own private beach resort, Princess Cays.
This resort is on the west shore of the island of Eleuthera in the Bahamas, just above the island's southern tip. Eleuthera is a quintessential Bahamian island: 180 kilometres long, much of it less than 2 kilometres wide, it forms the eastern edge of a shallow area of sea known as the Great Bahama Bank. The entire low-lying island is a mix of sand dune beaches and low coral stone hills.
Princess Cays is in effect a single large beach, broken into sections by artificial rocky points and by areas of greenery. It's separated by a shallow lagoon from the main island of Eleuthera. Here's a map from the cruise line's brochure.
The scenery is easy to describe and easy on the eyes. Ground, flat, or nearly so -- from the ship's higher decks you can see clear across the low ridge of Eleuthera itself to the open ocean on the other side. Vegetation, green. Water, brilliant blue. Sun, shining.
Princess promotes this port of call as a tropical paradise, but let's have a reality check. Even with a fleet of four double-decked tenders deployed, each one carrying 200 or more people, how long does it take to move up to 3560 people from the ship to a shoreside pier that can accommodate only two tenders at a time?
The answer lies in the "tender ticket" system. Anyone who wishes to go ashore is directed to the Symphony Dining Room, and there given a number. When your number is called, you are then directed to proceed to the embarkation port on Deck 4 to board your tender. The tender ticket system remained in place for people heading ashore from 9:00 am until almost 1:00 pm -- quite a thought, when the last tender back to the ship would leave the shoreside at 4:30 pm. This is an obvious case where earlier is better, especially because the weather, in true tropical fashion, was already clouding up by 1:00 pm.
This resort is on the west shore of the island of Eleuthera in the Bahamas, just above the island's southern tip. Eleuthera is a quintessential Bahamian island: 180 kilometres long, much of it less than 2 kilometres wide, it forms the eastern edge of a shallow area of sea known as the Great Bahama Bank. The entire low-lying island is a mix of sand dune beaches and low coral stone hills.
Princess Cays is in effect a single large beach, broken into sections by artificial rocky points and by areas of greenery. It's separated by a shallow lagoon from the main island of Eleuthera. Here's a map from the cruise line's brochure.
The scenery is easy to describe and easy on the eyes. Ground, flat, or nearly so -- from the ship's higher decks you can see clear across the low ridge of Eleuthera itself to the open ocean on the other side. Vegetation, green. Water, brilliant blue. Sun, shining.
The answer lies in the "tender ticket" system. Anyone who wishes to go ashore is directed to the Symphony Dining Room, and there given a number. When your number is called, you are then directed to proceed to the embarkation port on Deck 4 to board your tender. The tender ticket system remained in place for people heading ashore from 9:00 am until almost 1:00 pm -- quite a thought, when the last tender back to the ship would leave the shoreside at 4:30 pm. This is an obvious case where earlier is better, especially because the weather, in true tropical fashion, was already clouding up by 1:00 pm.
Then, once ashore, there are no freebies except the food you eat, the chunk of sand you pull up to sit on and the water you splash in. Everything -- and I do mean everything else -- has its price.
Here are some of the prices for six-hour rentals (American dollars):
(for those not familiar, SUP is an acronym for "Stand-Up Paddle."
I just learned that myself a few months ago)
Or you can go all in as a family with a 4-person package: $64.95 for lockers, snorkeling gear, and a paddle boat for 4.
(If you are thinking of bringing your own gear, practise ahead of time with trying to cram the above items into a standard suitcase along with your clothes. I wish you luck.)
And what's a day on the beach without a tall cool drink or two -- or more -- at hand? More money, just like every time you shout up any drink other than plain coffee, tea, lemonade, or water on board the ship.
Should you wish a little privacy among the swarming crowds, this perfectly natural desire too can be accommodated. There are small shoreside bungalows with air-conditioning -- which contain a few chairs, a table, and a shower, as well as loungers and a small patio outside.
All these delights are sold in advance on a non-refundable basis. You can still purchase any of these amenities once you're ashore, unless they are sold out.
I'll pass lightly over the impact of 3000-plus people all descending on the same beach at the same time. In fact, I did. I went ashore in the morning for a glass-bottom boat cruise (that's one entertainment I can never resist) and got to be on the first tender along with all the other people who had purchased organized tours. But I didn't stay long.
When we landed on the island, we were informed that the snorkelling, glass-bottom boat, and scuba expeditions were all cancelled because the recent windy weather had stirred up so much silt that visibility underwater was nearly non-existent. That's always a risk with these kinds of activities.
Once I found that out, I went for a walk through the resort area, snapping a few pictures here and there as I went. There's a small (40-steps) observation tower, and I climbed that. North, towards the bungalows, was a narrow stretch of the property where you could see the open ocean (left) and the sheltered lagoon (right) at once.
That enclosed lagoon would be a great place to practice your SUP skills or learn to handle a kayak. The open ocean was still churning energetically.
The tower also gave a good view of the brilliantly coloured roofs of the various shelters, kiosks, shops, and the grill buffet.
The artificial beach ended at the last rock pile, and a more natural beach fronted the stretch where the private bungalows were located under the trees.
And all the lifeguards were in place, on some of the most unusual lifeguard stands I've ever seen, just waiting for the daily mob to descend on the beach.
By the time I got back to the beach closest to the boat, a few of the hundreds of lounger chairs were taken. But far more people were still stuck on the ship, waiting for their turn to board a tender.
From these pictures, you can tell that I was ahead of nearly everyone in getting so far north of the boat dock. But I'm not really a beach person. Diabetics have to be cautious around sharp objects that might cut the feet, like stones, corals, or shells. And sitting for hours on end on a lounge chair isn't my thing either. After a few minutes, I'm ready to get up and go again.
So, after my stroll, I returned to the ship and passed a couple of hours in the civilized and quiet regions around (and in) the retreat pool. A nice day, to be sure, but how much more frustrating if I hadn't bought that tour and ended up waiting for who-knows-how-long in that dining room before finally being allowed to board one of the tenders?
Princess Cruises has its own private "resort" in the Bahamas, Princess Cays -- a tropical paradise where space is at a premium, and where almost everything except water, sand, and sun comes with a premium price attached. Read about it here.
ReplyDelete