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When Judith and I were both aboard I saw a good deal more of the passengers,
and, of course, of the entertainment staff. Premier among them was the Cruise
Director, one Jeraldine Saunders, a flamboyant lady of abundant personality and
much, though faded, allure, who at one time had obviously been a real looker (she
had been born in 1923) but had retained great elegance and vivacity. Her job was
to keep the passengers content, which she did with ease, and she and Judith found
that they enjoyed each other’s company. Among Jeraldine’s accomplishments was
fortune-telling (and what she told, and wrote, for Judith has never been revealed
to me!), but of far more note was that she was learning something about the Great
American Cruise Passenger, for very soon thereafter she became the creator of
‘The Love Boat’ hit TV series, essentially based upon her novels and her cruise
director experience. Coincidences did not end there; the vessel featured in the
show was Pacific Princess, a P&O ship that was transferred to that company’s
worldwide cruising company, Princess Cruises, though the company quickly sold
it when cruising ballooned in popularity and new and much bigger ships became
necessary. Jeraldine was an author of a considerable number of probably-now-
forgotten books (apart from ‘The Love Boats’) that rendered her an American
household word in the late 1970s, and she published an astrological column that
brought her further fame … or notoriety, whichever you favour.

The balance of the summer proceeded much as the first cruise. I constantly
had to change crew-members every time we returned to Victoria, for reliability
problems were never resolved. A prime example of these ongoing issues arose
with a young and new bosun who arrived about mid-season and was a real
‘hot-shot’. He organised the crew (not all had even been to sea before, let alone
possessed an Efficient Deck Hand Certificate) such that they actually became
quite adequate; he had unusually good training abilities. But one morning, upon
arrival in Skagway, I could not find him, his post being on the foredeck, ready to
drop the anchors should that be necessary. Upon enquiring, I was taken down to
his cabin, and there I found him lying comatose on his bunk. I was told that he had
overdosed, on what nobody would tell me. The ship’s doctor told me that nothing
could be done; he just had to be left as he was until he recovered. He didn’t, and
left the ship four days later, his replacement being a man called DesRoches, a
‘farmer’ from Quebec, but in whose demeanour I felt there to be a good seaman.
Fortunately, I was right; he remained the ship’s bosun until Holland America
decided that Alaska cruises were good business, sent West Star over the horizon,
and brought over to Vancouver a couple of their ships for the cruise season.

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