Part 1: Ted's Wackiest And Worst Port Experiences

By Ted Scull.

Having traveled a lot over a long lifetime, things do happen when on the proverbial sea road, some quite positive and others just the opposite. Maybe I could have avoided some bad experiences by taking more care or being less of a risk taker. Not being timid by nature and enjoying testing myself, possessing a rabid curiosity can lead one into danger as well as blissful wonder.

With decades of cruise travel behind me, and more ahead, I want to share some of my wackiest and worst port experiences in no particular order, and once I have gotten over these remembrances, I will balance the scales with the most uplifting tales. None of the bad ones, by the way, involved the cruise line’s shore excursions.

Doctor of Understatement

During an off-season cruise up the Norwegian Coast, the ship stopped at a small port for a short visit, and the setting with the pretty town, mountain backdrop, and docked ship would likely be a terrific photograph.

I disembarked wearing a pair of loafers and did not see the black ice at the end of the gangway. Down I went landing on my shoulder and thud went my camera. Helpful people came to the rescue, and it was obvious from how my shoulder felt that I should go to the hospital.

A friend accompanied me, and I was soon seen by a young Australian doctor, in the Far North of Norway, who said he liked the climate. He came from tropical Queensland. Go figure! Following an x-ray and inspection, he said no bones were fractured, so he would release me to be on my way. Bill US$22.

Well it was painful, so the ship’s surgery helped out with painkillers. The cruise lasted another two days and when I reached Bergen, the air traffic controllers had gone on strike and my flights with a connection at Oslo back to Newark were cancelled.

My friend on the ship said that she would take my suitcase back to New York so all I had to carry was a small tote. After a night in a hotel, I went back to the airport and found that I would now be rerouted via Copenhagen. The airline personal were most helpful rearranging everything.

However, my wife had been a bit frantic as the airline would not say what flight I would be on until she convinced a supervisor that I would need help after arriving home. She met me at the airport near midnight, and home sweet home we went.

The next day I went to my doctor, and he took one look at the x-ray and said that I had a torn rotator cuff. Okay, a simple accident that could have happened anywhere. And it’s a simple travel truth that you may not get the best medical care on the road; beggars can’t be choosers.

Creepy Man with a Message

During an around-Japan cruise, the ship stopped at Miyajima, a Japanese island and major Buddhist center just a short distance from Hiroshima. We had a guide, and she explained the route we would take so if anyone wanted to linger, they would know how to catch up.

Soon, I did just that. As I was reading an explanation attached to a temple, a tall young man came up to me and inches from my face asked if I was an American. When I said “Yes.” He replied, “I thought so” and walked away. A few minutes later he returned and came straight up to my face again, and this time said, “Thank you for the atomic bomb.”

Now a bit freaked out and away from the group I decided it was time to rejoin them. I had not gotten far when I saw him shadowing me and I before I knew it, he was back, blocking my way. This time he said a little louder, “Thank you for the bomb, it helps tourism.”

Now I began thinking that he is not quite right in the head and increased my pace and caught up with the group. I pulled the guide aside for a second and told her what had happened. She went over to a guard, said something and came back apologized and went on with the tour.

I saw the man again twice just ahead of me, but he did not come close again.

A bit frightening at the time.

Now this next one certainly started out a tad scary too.

A Little Red in the Face

I had taken a Yangtze River cruise and was now traveling with a small group by train to Nanjing. The air-conditioning was not working, and it was July and beastly hot. I left the compartment and went down the corridor to the W.C. to wash my dripping face. As one might expect the towels were red.

We were just about to arrive at the station so I gathered my things, and as I stepped off the train, some of the group were staring at me as were a lot of Chinese, and I mean scores. I was somewhat used to the latter but not the former.

The guide came rushing up, and asked if I was okay. I said yes, just hot, and she took me by the hand to a first-aid station. The medic looked at me then took a white towel to wipe my sweaty face. The towel turned red — red from the brand-new red towel on the train that had not yet been washed.

Diagnosis: acute case of embarrassment.

These next two can really be one tale as the reason for the inclusion is the same.

Storm Warning

Ok this nightmare didn’t happen ashore, but given what happened aboard a ship, I almost didn’t make it to the next port! We were passing through a large tropical depression. The sea was streaked white as the wave tops were blown away. Passengers had been asked to stay off the open decks, but this writer is a foul weather buff so I went out to see how bad it was.

The winds were buffeting me then suddenly coming from the opposite direction. I held onto the railing as I walked aft and then down to the next deck. I wanted to cross the open deck to the stern. As I got part way the ship suddenly went out from under me, and I could no longer stand. Knowing the deck would be springing up again, I simply collapsed in a heap and stayed there until the ship was no longer rising and falling so rapidly, then stood and rushed to the forward railings and retreated back the way I had come.

There lying on the deck next to the short stairs I had used to get outside was a large ventilator that had been torn from its mount on the deck above and landed on the deck below. Inside the ship, a good friend said, “I watched you go outside then almost immediately, the ventilator crashed onto the deck missing you by a few feet.” The wind was howling so loudly I had not heard it land, taking a small chunk out of the teak deck.

Two lessons l learned within minutes of each other. When the captain says don’t go out on deck — bloody well believe him as there may be a good reason, or in my case, two!

Scull’s Nearly Pierced Skull

On an Antarctic/Falklands cruise with my brother, we went ashore at a landing on the Antarctic Peninsula. The landscape was free of snow and ice, and the beach with littered with seals and penguins. We had up to about two hours ashore, and there seemed to be no restrictions where we could go so after a period of time we went off on our own down the stone-strewed beach. My brother was busy taking videos and me stills a short distance away.

All of a sudden, I saw a large bird coming towards me maybe six feet above ground. He kept coming at me and when he got close I collapsed on the ground. I felt him or her pass over me and stood up again. The bird circled and came at me again. I grabbed a piece of driftwood and as it got near I thrust it upwards and ducked and the bird smacked the board. Before it could circle again I took off, and my brother who had watched the second attack, looked quickly around and found that I had been all too close to the bird’s nest.

Quite shaken, I returned to the ship and asked to see the expedition leader. I told him the story, and he said I was very lucky as the bird was a skua and it was on an attack, and had I not ducked or protected myself with that piece of driftwood, he might have broken open my skull with his beak.

I told the expedition leader that I wouldn’t share this occurrence with any of the passengers. He thanked me for that and said basically that kind of thing can happen if you stray too far into unfamiliar territory.

I vowed to never be such an oblivious dodo bird again.

Rambling Tote Job

Now this one is quite common up to a point. I was on a ship that had stopped in places like Colombo, Djibouti, and Port Said, and then we cruised westward through the Mediterranean. I had been very careful going ashore and deciding what I would take with me. Now back in familiar European territory, I relaxed.

The ship called at Barcelona for the day, and I went ashore with a couple I knew, who had been very savvy along the way as they had lived in developing countries in Southeast Asia.

I had a tote bag over my shoulder as we walked along the Ramblas, a popular boulevard. Then suddenly I thought to look in my bag. Gone were my passport case with my passport, ship’s boarding pass, my wallet with credits cards, driver’s license, and some cash. As a first experience of this kind, I was devastated, and had stupidly relaxed my guard in what was known, by lots of people, as a pick pocketers’ paradise.

I spent my day first pushing the emergency button at the American Consulate which was officially closed on a Saturday afternoon. A consul answered and said I was the 10th American who had come with the same problem, and that Easter Week was high season for thieves. She gave me the address of a nearby photographer and then issued a temporary passport. Citibank said they could not issue a card on the spot, but one would be available when I reached London after disembarking at Southampton. The rest was replaced when I got home.

I now carry only what I need ashore in a zippered pouch that is strapped to my belt and stuffed into my pocket, and inside my trousers if I am in a dicey neighborhood. This arrangement will lead into the last incident.

Dangerous Dagger Encounter

On a trip ashore with a friend at the port of Coquimbo, northern Chile, we decided to climb to a monument overlooking the town. Part way up we passed two men sitting on a low stone wall and kept going. Maybe 15 seconds later my friend shouted “Watch out” as the two men jumped me and sent me to the ground. I fought with one of them, hoping my camera would not get smashed in the struggle. Then my friend shouted, “He’s got a dagger, let the camera go.” I briefly saw the long blade and as I lay there, he used it to cut open my trousers as he saw the strap holding my wallet.

They then ran off. I stood up and could see people watching us. We were in a neighborhood, and the locals had watched it all happen. One man came up and said in Spanish that this pair was well known as drug addicts and petty thieves, and added, we are afraid of them, that is why no one came to your rescue. Someone had called the police, later at the station house, they took down the information, signed a form so I could collect insurance and basically said, they are probably across the border now (Bolivia), and I will not see my stuff again.

Back at the ship, I was the more scraped up of the two, and we received first aid at the infirmary. The ship had not given any warning about possible dangers, one that they had not called at before, and I guess no local authority had issued any.

The port agent was the most helpful person and allowed me to call my wife and give her the credit card details. I shared a camera to the end of the voyage, and my insurance company paid for a new one with nothing more than a phone call followed by a check in the mail.

All is well that ends well. Well ….

Silver Lining

One upside: an easy out on jury duty. I have been dismissed from several panels when the lawyer asks, “Has anyone been the victim of a violent crime?” I guess one sometimes pays dearly for a perk.

Part 2 Coming Soon: Uplifting Port Experiences, Ted Looks Back on a Lifetime of Cruising