Hail & farewell to the classic liner: changes spell doom for the valiant vessels that pioneered pleasure cruising - Cruising's Classic Past - vintage cruise ships

Cruise Travel, Jan-Feb, 2002 by Allan E. Jordan

It may seem odd to be watching the price of scrap metal in Asia these days, but in these troubled economic times that may be the barometer for the future of cruising's classic past. In the past year alone, the rising costs of keeping a ship idled at the dock, coupled with changing consumer tastes, doomed a number of old friends who had once helped to set the pace in cruising and placed a number of others on the endangered species list. Quickly the experience of sailing aboard one of the great ships of yesteryear is fading into the pages of history.

Gone in 2000 and 2001 are old friends including: Chandris's Amerikanis and Britanis; Swedish American Line's Gripsholm, which went on to become the Regent Sea; Zim Israel Line's Shalom, which served for years as the Doric, then as the Royal Odyssey, and finally as the Regent Sun; Costa's Federico C., which went on to be the Royale and then the SeaBreeze I; and the dear old Polish Stefan Batory. An odd assortment of ships, which came from different parts of the globe and backgrounds, that each in her own way contributed to the development of the modern cruise industry in North America.

In today's era of modern megaships, often little more than duplicates of one another, it is hard to remember that once ships were unique in design and often one of a kind. Classic ships featured a style and personality unique to themselves--and many times were a refinement of an earlier ship of the fleet. Identical sister ships were a rarity, and unheard of were the "classes" of four or more identical ships that dominate cruising today.

To understand the role that these fine ships played in the development of cruising, one must also understand the birth of the modern cruise industry. While it is true that ships have been doing pleasure cruises for more than 100 years, frequently this was either smaller or older ships relegated to cruising or else a liner designed to provide point-to-point transportation that was seeking refuge during the off season. In time this gave rise to the dual-purpose ship, one that the designers envisioned on the drawing boards as operating liner service as well as pleasure cruising during the off season. Alterations were made in the layouts of these ships to ensure that they could move to cruising and provide equally comfortable accommodations to the cruise passenger as well as the voyager seeking trans-oceanic transportation.

However, all of this changed by the mid- to late-1960s as the jet finally conquered the oceans. It took nearly a decade from the introduction of the jet airplane until it firmly assumed the role of provider of trans-oceanic travel. First the smaller shipping lines began discontinuing their trans-Atlantic runs--firms like Home Lines, which ended its service between Europe and Canada in the fall of 1963, or German Atlantic, which ceased Atlantic operations in 1968. Soon well-known firms ranging from Swedish American Line to Holland America Line, Norwegian America Line, North German Lloyd/HAPAG, and even the once mighty Cunard were reducing or curtailing their trans-Atlantic schedules. Around the globe on other major shipping routes, the same thing was happening. For example, the once proud P&O Lines fleet, which numbered eight major passenger ships as the 1970s began, was reduced, in a matter of months, to three "refugees" sent cruising and struggling for their very survival. Similarly, the equally proud Union Castle Line, which had maintained liner service between England and South and East Africa for 120 years, began rapidly cutting its fleet of six major passenger ships at the beginning of the 1970s; by the end of 1977, it was no more.

As trans-oceanic travel came to an end, the scrapyards of the world were booming. Great ships big and small were cut into pieces to reclaim their metal, while the survivors, for the most part, became a fleet of rag-tag refugees. It was from these not so auspicious beginnings that the modern fly-cruise markets would arise, giving birth to a new leisure industry. This moment in history is now being lost as a generation of ships passes.

As the new millennium dawned, the rush to the scrapyards was equal to only that of the 1960s and 1970s when many aging liners passed from the scene. But this time it is a different generation of ships going to the scrapyard, cruise ships that once were "Ship of the Month" features, the ones many of us grew up with and had our first cruise memories on.

Some of the ships that are now gone were anything but dowagers, while some found their spotlight later in life. In fact, no less than three of them received front-page coverage in the New York Times when they made their maiden arrivals in the Port of New York. They were celebrated for their innovations and style and heralded as a new generation of luxury ships. As they passed on, the same media that once celebrated them forget them.

Built in 1957, for example, the Gripsholm was the newest addition to the proud heritage of Swedish American Line. Although she was built in Italy, she was the largest Scandinavian passenger vessel afloat at the time. Picking up where her namesake had left off and alongside the Kungsholm of 1953, the new Gripsholm became the standard bearer for luxury cruising. She featured a stunning mix of Scandinavian and Italian interior designs and such amenities as all outside cabins, plus nearly all her cabins had private bathrooms, something that would become total as she focused on cruising in the 1960s. Her main lounge, with large windows spanning from one side of the main deck to the other, eliminated the glass-enclosed promenades found on many ships. In fact, her designers were so meticulous to make sure the staterooms would be perfect that they actually "test hung" everything from evening gowns to cocktail dresses, suites, and hats in mock-ups of the wardrobes to ensure ample space and the best designs.