Voyage of the Damned

On a cruise to nowhere, getting there was not half the fun

When the 723-ft. America was launched in 1939, it was the flagship of the United States Line, the country's largest, fastest, most luxurious liner. But 25 years later, when planes took over the transatlantic travel market, the ship began losing money and was sold to a Greek shipping firm that used it chiefly for cruises around the world. This month, having been resold and then refurbished at a cost of more than $2 million, the America set sail from New York City on a new career and immediately ran into a sea of troubles.

Aboard the ship were 960 passengers headed for a "Cruise to Nowhere," an increasingly popular vacation trip in which passengers are promised a nonstop party aboard a floating hotel. Although the America's owners, Venture Cruise Lines Inc., offered some cabins for $149, nearly $100 cheaper than its competitors, the company advertised facilities "as complete and luxurious as any cruise costing two and three times the price." Among the amenities were bars, a discotheque and a casino with blackjack tables, roulette wheels and slot machines.

Once aboard, many of the America's passengers settled down for a leisurely voyage, but some soon began complaining that their cabins were half-painted, had no beds or showers and were inhabited by roaches. Some toilets were clogged, while others would not stop running. One of the ship's pools remained empty for two days; the other, deep inside the vessel, could be reached only by clambering over piles of garbage and dirty laundry. Sales agents had overbooked the cruise, and tour officials herded all the waiting passengers on board, hoping somehow to accommodate them. But there were 150 more passengers than available cabins. Some vacationers had to bed down in unpainted rooms the size of closets. The less fortunate curled up on the deck next to their luggage.

As the ship steamed into the Atlantic, the disgruntled passengers began to mutiny. More than 100 of them drew up a petition to the state attorney general demanding refunds. Leonard Lansburgh, one of the ship's owners, tried to pacify the passengers by announcing that drinks were on the house. It hardly helped. Fistfights and swearing matches broke out. One drunken man took a swing at a woman purser, who thereupon screamed into the p.a. system, "Emergency! Emergency!" By then, the crew--including Greeks, Jamaicans and Koreans, who had difficulty communicating both with one another and with the guests--began to protest too. One maitre d' fled his dining room in dismay. Said he: "I'm going to stay and get killed by people?"

Finally, passengers began to chant, "We want to get off! Give us rooms, or let us off!" The America reversed course and arrived back at New York fewer than twelve hours after embarking. More than 250 vacationers jumped ship and were ferried by tugboat to Staten Island, where many were stranded for the rest of the night, cheered only by Lansburgh's promise of a full refund.

The America and her remaining 700 passengers, meanwhile, resumed the Cruise to Nowhere. After two uneventful days at sea, the ship put into New York again and was met by public health inspectors. They flunked the America as unsanitary, awarding the ship only 32 points out of a possible 100. Still, because the ship's management promised to make repairs, they allowed the America to sail again that afternoon.

Filled with 641 new passengers bound for Nova Scotia, the America soon ran into more troubles. Off the coast of New England, a storm struck, bringing 20-ft. waves and 50-m.p.h. winds that forced the captain to cancel a stop at Martha's Vineyard, Mass. Fresh-water pipes broke and portholes began to leak. The plumbing backed up just as hundreds of passengers became seasick. Said Vicki Armstrong: "The sanitary conditions were just horrid --the gymnasium was full of human feces, and the ladies' room was flooded."

At Halifax, the ship was greeted by curious townspeople, dozens of reporters, several plumbers and a party of Canadian health inspectors. Because the ship did not endanger the health of Nova Scotians, officials let the America sail for New York. But 18 passengers abandoned ship and flew home.

Back in New York, Venture Cruise Lines desperately tried to undo the damage.

"Lansburgh's one aim in life is for all the passengers to be happy," insisted a spokesman. In hope of making his next voyage more shipshape, Lansburgh canceled the next three scheduled cruises and announced that the America would spend 1 1/2 weeks in port for more repairs.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.