During my first visit to Edinburgh, Scotland, I visited the Royal Yacht Britannia. It was my first time on a a ship of that class.
I’d sailed on oceans and rivers before that, on cruise ships and river ships and on a catamaran. This ship was the first one that sparked curiosity about living and traveling on a ship for any length of time. Who would have imagined I’d be living on a cruise ship just five years later?
It was in service from 1954 to 1997, and was the 83rd such vessel since King Charles II acceded to the throne in 1660. During her service she traveled more than one million nautical miles (1.9 million km) around the world to more than 600 ports in 135 countries. Today it’s a tourist attraction, bringing in more than 300,000 people per year, including us in 2019.
As you would expect, it was well appointed and beautiful. The stories it could tell were tantalizing. The tour guides talked about the furnishings and the stories as we walked through the ship. Talk about an “upstairs/downstairs” life! The crew quarters weren’t the least bit appealing to me, though I’m sure they are luxurious compared to other crew quarters, and the family quarters looked more than comfortable — especially the queen’s.
The tour concluded with a high tea unlike any high tea I’ve had. We enjoyed delicious scones, sandwiches, desserts, and tea all served by perfectly trained waiters. And we had views of Leith, Scotland, Edinburgh’s skyline, and the waters of the Firth of Forth as they reach the North Sea.
The Working Crew
I thought the high tea was the high point of the grand experience until I met one of the deck hands. I was intrigued to see this man polishing the brass handrails of the ship as if the queen would appear at any moment. Yes, the ship is decommissioned, but it’s still a working ship and, perhaps more importantly, it represents the royal family in a fundamental way to those 300,000 people each year.
As is usual, I struck up a conversation with him, asking the usual questions and being surprised by his responses. He had worked on that ship for twenty years and still loved the job. My brain wondered how you could love working on a yacht that didn’t go anywhere, and that the “lady of the house” never visited any longer. He must have intuited my pondering because he quickly added it is an honor to be part of the history. He expanded on that, saying, “We are all part of something rather larger than ourselves,” with a large smile on his face.
As I see the world from aboard the Villa Vie Odyssey, I think back to my brief afternoon on the Britannia. While we visit many ports that large cruise ships don’t have the joy of visiting, I’m realizing we are in a way similar to the Britannia’s diplomatic mission: we are also doing our own form of diplomacy, touching the populations in a slower, more deliberate way than cruise ships which only land for, typically, a few hours. We have two, sometimes even three days to connect with people. We have done humanitarian work after the earthquake Cebu, Philippines, and a hurricane in Jamaica, donated clothing at numerous churches, and had leisurely meals at restaurants. It’s all because we have time to do it.
That directly ties in to my joy and the pride of the crew I see on the Odyssey, and it gives a different perspective. I can imagine the pride Britannia’s crew felt in supporting her guests and the history that was made in every port and on every sailing.
The Odyssey has crew who continuously polish, clean, and paint the ship inside and out. I was feeling a bit annoyed at some outside stairs I like to use that were closed “yet one more time” because crew was varnishing them. Then I remembered the joy that Britannia crewman had at polishing the brass “yet one more time” and realized that’s what it takes to maintain a ship: maintenance at sea is a constant battle against the elements and the wear and tear of constant use.
That led me to wonder if the Odyssey crew feels a similar pride. So, I asked one of the crew I saw in the hallway who was polishing brass and window sills.
Gratitude in the Small Things
The beaming pride I saw when I asked one of the crew members about his job answered my unasked question. He announced his joy and wished me a happy day. I briefly told him my story of the conversation with the deck hand on the Britannia, and noticed him nodding as I spoke. Without any prompting he said he loves his job, and said his work comes from the heart. I thanked him for his heart and he said that every time we see each other we can share joy and our hearts and continue with having happy days.
As the first Residential Cruising ship, I guess the Odyssey and its crew and residents are making their own history. That’s something to think about as we make our way around the world. More and more, the people we meet on excursions, even an hour away from port, have heard of us. Randy bought a hat on a side trip to Kuranda, in the mountains above Cairns, Qld., Australia. The vendor stopped to explain to Randy how to package the hat in our luggage “for your return home.”
Randy smiled and said, “Our home is parked in the harbor in Cairns.” The man replied, “Oh, you’re on the Odyssey?” We were astounded that people are that aware of us, even when they don’t live near the docks. We’re having an impact on people at a personal level as we travel. That’s part of history at an individual level.
The Odyssey crew is also part of that history, just like the Britannia’s crew. While I have always thanked our crew for their work in keeping the ship clean and shiny, I have at times also been frustrated by the maintenance when it closes decks, pools, and stairways. Tying our maintenance efforts to my memory of being on the Britannia and seeing that beaming face, a face of pride and honor, brings it home in a very personal way. Thinking back to the queen’s yacht connects me to this experience and lifestyle, and profoundly deepens my gratitude.
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