'This ain't no foo foo ship'

By MARK R. CHELLGREN

updated 7:46 p.m. ET April 4, 2006

ABOARD THE POLYNESIA - The sails flap weakly as they climb the four huge masts. "Ride of the Valkyrie" blares from the speakers as a cannon booms, then fires again.

Catching the wind, the ship slowly turns, the sails fill, masts creak and 248 feet (74.4 meters) of oceangoing history is on its way. Bagpipes and "Amazing Grace" replace the martial music. The sailors, some new to the sea, some crusty old salts, all share the same shiver of emotion.

This is no Errol Flynn movie. And, as the T-shirt says, "This ain't no foo foo ship."

And this is no ordinary cruise.

Some people will never understand the attraction of Windjammer Barefoot Cruises. Those who get it, do so immediately and will start planning their next trip as soon as they get home.

A disclaimer: I'm one of the believers - 27 weeks aboard since 1996. And that's compared to some who have sailed more than 100 weeks.

Windjammer's four sailing legends, plus a charming old tub, ease into some of the more obscure ports up and down the Caribbean each week on their own itineraries. The steamer Amazing Grace even made its way to Tahiti for a series of sails in 2005.

In port, a few dozen Windjammer passengers - ships range from 64 to 122 passengers - go ashore to explore and experience, unlike the thousands who disgorge from the gleaming white cruise ships - derisively known as "foo foos" among Windjammer faithful - to overwhelm the small islands.

The size of Windjammer ships makes visiting out-of-the-way islands possible: Mayreau, Bequia, Tobago Cays, Dominica, Carriacou, St. Barts or Norman Island, all in the Caribbean. There are no casinos aboard, though crab races might be in the offing one night if you want to wager a dollar or two; no elaborate production shows, unless you count costume night where the passengers double as the entertainment; no dressing for dinner, though your shipmates would appreciate a clean T-shirt. Going usually ashore means climbing into a rocking launch, disembarking on a pier or climbing down a ladder onto a beach for a "wet landing."

This is cruising of a different sort. It helps if you're a bit adventurous, open and none-too-formal. Unlike aboard the monster ships, you'll meet more than the six or eight people at your assigned table and you're liable to know most of your fellow passengers by the end of the week. And the bartender, on the Poly, the incomparable Warren Sinclair, will probably know your favorite libation by midweek.

Contrary to myth, WJ passengers don't have to work, unless you count time spent on their tan. Cabin stewards make the bed every morning and meals are served, though you do have to make your own way to the bar. But if you'd like, you can help raise sails or even take a turn at the wheel, the one that really does turn the ship.

There's even a captain's dinner, but you also see him every morning at "Storytime," when the day's events are recited, tours arranged and jokes told. On the Poly, it is Neil Carmichael, a redheaded, usually bearded Scotsman who may just be the prototypical Windjammer skipper - a bit bawdy, a touch of a pirate's heart, engaging and in love with his work, his golf game, two kids and a wife. Don't ask him to put them in order. He's been fired a time or five and always manages to make it back aboard.

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