Forgive this title. It’s completely misleading. If you can write succinctly, insightfully, thoughtfully, factually and whimsically about a train journey, a stay at a Mandarin Oriental or a Residence Inn, an experience at the Louvre or a climb up Borobudur, if you can tell a tale from your visit to Jerusalem’s Wailing Wall or about the dog park at the end of your block, you can write a cruise story.
It’s just a little bit more complicated.
I first began covering cruise for The Washington Post back in the mid-1990s. My editor, a visionary who could see around corners when it came to developing travel trends, recognized that the cruise industry was evolving from trips for “the nearly dead or newly wed” into more mainstream concepts aimed at diverse audiences, from families to recreational enthusiasts. He felt that a junior travel writer who had never even been on a cruise (oddly, despite watching “The Love Boat” with a passion as a kid, it never occurred to me to go onboard; I just liked the love stories) would resonate more closely than would a veteran cruise traveler. He even asked me if I had a problem with seasickness (I do; from childhood to today I occasionally feel queasy on any vessel that moves, a sailboat, a Naval destroyer that never even left the dock at Norfolk, and yes, on cruise ships). I wanted the work.
The biggest hurdle for any new writer on cruise is understanding the industry lingo – because it’s foreign: Ask for directions to your room onboard and you might get a blank stare; better to ask for your cabin instead. When you describe a ship’s tonnage, a word used to describe a ship’s size, only a newbie describes it as a vessel’s weight. We “measure,” as in Regal Princess “measures 142,714 tons” (yes, that’s a pretty big ship). A good editor will catch these obvious mistakes though it is a tip-off that the writer really hasn’t done his or her homework.
Where travel writing about a cruise voyage gets challenging is in describing a world that’s unlike any other form of travel. Most of us, as travelers and journalists, have experienced trips that involve trains, resorts, planes, and automobiles. Cruise, that whole world that exists out there on the sea, on a hull, in a floating hotel that moves to different countries every day, feels untouchable. How do you imagine something you’ve never seen?
And here’s the only real piece of advice that I’ll pass along. If you’re covering your first cruise, please take time to dial back on the negative perceptions. Cruise has had plenty of them, and some should not be ignored. But spend your time onboard understanding why this lyrical, magical way of traveling has persevered through so much sturm-und-drang. Grab a seat on the aft (er, the back of the ship) and enjoy the trance of watching the wake as the ship churns up the frothing sea.
Throw yourself into onboard activities – trivia’s the hot trend right now. While touring in unfamiliar ports of call with fellow passengers, chat them up. Both of these are a great way to meet new friends (er, sources) – and tell compelling stories.
In fact, one of cruise’s greatest gifts is meeting new people – often from all over the world. You’ll see the world through their eyes as well as through your own. I promise you that if you let it, it’ll open up your heart and mind in a way you didn’t see coming.
How can you not write a fascinating story about that?
This piece an expanded version of one that originally was written for the Society of American Travel Writers’ The Write Stuff, as a follow-up to a webinar I participated in on cruise writing. What was so rewarding about the webinar (available only to members of SATW) was that it was more of a lively conversation between travel writing professionals than a speech. Tons of great feedback; thanks to all who were there and contributed questions and insights.
Very interesting and helpful piece. I'll definitely be looking for my "cabin" and never ask about a ship's weight. Thank you.