Thelife- The
coronavirus pandemic has left thousands of crew members trapped on cruise ships around the world. - Business Insider spoke with a crew member stuck on the MS Norwegian Epic about his experience onboard.
- The crew member spoke of his sometimes grueling experience on the ship, which has dragged on for more than 80 days.
- Crew members stranded at sea have faced depression, insomnia, and financial woe since the pandemic began roiling the cruise industry.
For some crew members, the weeks spent stranded aboard the MS Norwegian Epic began to feel like a slow, dry drowning.
Peter knew a few people who would sit inside their cabins and pour out their feelings on social media. Their Facebook posts took on a dark and depressive nature. Some seemed nearly suicidal in tone.
Peter and his friends would go knock on struggling fellow crew members' cabin doors and invite them on a walk around the ship. He said that having a routine, and maintaining contact with friends onboard and loved ones on shore, has proved crucial for his mental wellbeing on the ship.
"You want to show them that you're there, even if they don't want to talk about anything serious," he said. "It helps a lot."
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Peter is not the stranded crew member's real name, although Business Insider has verified his status as a crew member aboard the Epic. Business Insider is withholding this crew member's identity to protect him from professional retaliation and blackballing within the cruise industry. The crew member will be referred to as Peter within this story, and his nationality and role on the ship will be withheld.
Business Insider spoke with Peter about his experience being adrift throughout the entire coronavirus pandemic. He discussed his experience dealing with insomnia, boredom, and being terminated and left without income while still trapped onboard a former employer's vessel. This Norwegian crew member's experience is reflective of that of the thousands of crew members around the world who were left stranded onboard cruise ships — often without pay or certainty about a disembarkation date — during the global pandemic.
'We were not in a good space'
For Peter, sticking with a routine has proved crucial for staying sane and positive. He adopted his daily rituals after passengers were first booted of the Sun, his original ship. He exercises each morning, about half an hour after waking up. After his hour-long workout, he breaks for an early lunch. The afternoon is dedicated to remotely connecting with friends and family, and the occasional creative pursuit. After dinner, he might try to catch a film or read a book in his cabin.
"I still feel like a good routine is key to getting through all of this," he said. "I've had my off days, but I've only had two."
Onboard the Epic, Peter said that many crew participate in group exercise. The Epic has not reported any potential COVID-19 outbreaks or established any vessel-wide quarantining rules. He said that he has seen up to 25 participants in a class, and that ship security has "chilled" when it comes to allowing such gatherings.
"I'm happy for the Zumba guys," he said.
Peter prefers going solo, but he hates running. Instead, he takes to "crisscrossing" the vessel for his daily workout.
"I walk the ship every day," he said. He moves between decks, planking and doing push-ups every so often.
When it comes to nutrition onboard, Peter said the food is "pretty fine." The crew members now take their meals in the mess hall. When there were more people onboard, they ate in the Garden Café, a buffet restaurant with a sweeping blue view.
"It doesn't make sense to have us in this huge restaurant," he said. "It just takes too much manpower, I guess."
Peter said the crew are served "balanced meals," with plenty of meat, fish, and vegetable options. There is also ice cream, as well as watermelons, pineapples, and cantaloupes for dessert.
"I'm grateful because it could be a lot worse," he said.
But for Peter, the most important facet of life onboard the Epic has been his quarters. He said that the state of his living space has had an outsized impact on his mood and mental health.
Upon transferring to the Epic, Peter started out sharing a balcony stateroom with another crew member. But that all changed after ship leadership found that some crew "because people had been smoking and misbehaving" in the rooms. Peter said that crew staying in the rooms with balconies were shuttled off to the inside cabins.
"We were all punished for the handful of folks who were being idiots," Peter said. "That was not cool. Not for my mental health anyway, because I need to see the sun."
Peter's room mate eventually was transferred off the ship to return home, but the lack of sunshine and fresh air took a toll.
"I had had insomnia for nearly two weeks at the end of my inside cabin stay," Peter said. "I was not in a good space."
All in all, Peter remained in the inside cabin for about a month.
"It was a long time to sit in a cabin that is not well lit," he said. "There's no porthole, because you're facing the inside."
With hundreds crew members leaving the Epic to go home toward the middle of May, more balcony rooms began opening up. According to Peter, his "great" new room's main features include a balcony and two single beds shoved together. Despite its small size, it also boasts far more storage space than his inside cabin.
"It's made a big difference to me in terms of my mental health," he said,
'It's like something you can almost feel in the air'
At sea, with no work and limited options for play, crew members have found themselves becoming listless. For stranded crew like Peter, fun has become a "relative" term.
"You don't get this kind of free time at home, but also you're so far away from home," Peter said. "You have to force yourself into positive things."
A self-described "geek," Peter said that he spends some time playing video games in his cabin. He was once part of an onboard Call of Duty squad, but he was left alone when the other guys were all transferred to another ship.
Beyond their cabins, crew members can also move around and socialize on the ship. Norwegian even granted crew members a daily nonrefundable $10 shipboard account credit. Once a crew member departs the ship, they are not longer entitled to that money. Onboard, however, the credit can be used to purchase almost anything.
Peter spends his daily allowance on coffee and beer. When the Epic sails outside of United States waters — usually two to three nights every week — the booze begins to flow onboard. The wait time on line for alcohol sometimes takes up to half an hour.
The mix of crew members from different Norwegian ships has allowed for increased mingling and meet-ups with old friends.
"A lot of folks are seeing friends that they haven't seen in a while," Peter said.
But perhaps more importantly, there have been even more crew leaving the ship, as of late. Charter planes, commercial flights, and other Norwegian ships have been dispatched to take these employees home, after months stuck at sea. With fewer crew onboard, the ship's satellite internet connection has improved significantly for those that remain stranded.
"When we were 2,000-plus folks, the Wifi was understandably awful," Peter said. "Now it's semi-decent. In certain spots, I can even do a video call with my family."
Peter said the tempo of departures "seems to be increasing," which in turn has brightened morale even more.
"We seem to be happier than most we were six weeks ago," Peter said. "It's like something you can almost feel in the air. It just seems to be a weight lifted."
'Suddenly we just weren't being paid'
The mood on the Epic may be more buoyant than in past weeks, but the financial straits that many crew find themselves in is enough to dampen any good feelings. Peter said he is "definitely" concerned about his own finances as a result of his experience with Norwegian.
"I'm short nearly a month of income and that is a huge problem," he said.
Peter said that crew on the Sun were initially told they would keep earning paychecks while onboard, even after passengers disembarked. That message was reiterated once they transferred to the Epic. Then, without a warning from human resources, word spread around that most of the stranded crew were being terminated.
"There was no official meeting called to say otherwise," he said. "Suddenly we just weren't being paid."
On April 24, crew received their termination slips. Peter said that crew also received two weeks of severance pay. But had the coronavirus pandemic never happened, Peter would have been home around a month by now. He spent that month trapped on a vessel that no longer needed his services and would no longer provide him with income. The Wifi on the ship also proved weak to permit any kind of telecommuting work.
Fortunately, Peter's landlord slashed his rent by half, meaning that he will not be without a home once he gets off the Epic.
"I'm kind of done being upset about that," he said. "We're just kind of numb about that."
He did blast Norwegian for paying executives millions of dollars, while cutting crew pay. Norwegian Cruise Line's Frank Del Rio made $22,590,000 in 2018, according to Cruise Law News, making him the highest-paid CEO in the cruise world.
"And yet they cut our paychecks," Peter said. "It doesn't add up and it makes it feel as if they don't really care about us."
Even before the coronavirus struck, Peter said he was unimpressed with Norwegian's operations — in terms of ship sanitary conditions and crew pay — compared with that of other cruise lines. He also said that Norwegian's global leadership failed to act decisively when the coronavirus first was classified as a pandemic in March.
"Before everything went south, before CDC started locking things down, there was a window period," he said. "They should not have been sailing folks on the eighth of March."
'I'm always the most positive person, and even I took a knock'
Remaining confined on a ship without pay or a confirmed disembarkation date during a global pandemic has proved draining for many crew members working on major cruise lines. Peter said he stops to just breathe whenever possible. He strives to "look at the bigger picture," avoid panic, and acknowledge when circumstances are beyond his control.
"I can blame the company for lots and lots of things, but I can't blame them for my attitude," he said. "That's on me."
Peter said that he considers it his responsibility to stay positive for his fellow crew. He views despair as a possible contagion, an emotion with the potential to be as infectious as the coronavirus itself.
"If I go to someone and I'm like, 'Dude, I want to jump overboard. I hate this, yada yada' — it will affect them negatively," Peter said. "And that's not fair."
Since the Norwegian Sun kicked off its passengers on March 13, Peter estimated that he has had two "bad days," along with bouts of insomnia. Given his commitment to maintaining a positive outlook, Peter said that the fact he has found being stuck onboard emotionally draining quite telling.
"I'm not the kind of person to let life get me down," he said. "I'm always the most positive person, and even I took a knock."
Peter's loved ones stay in touch. Their frequent contact has become an integral part of his positivity-bolstering routine onboard. For his part, Peter is excited to see them when he finally returns to shore. He said he will spend time with family, play some Xbox, and sit by the fire at night with a glass of wine.
He said he most looks forward to cooking outdoors when he gets home. Peter plans to load up a pot with meat and vegetables around noontime, and "slow cook that bad boy" for hours. As the dish simmers over the coal and wood, he will crack open a beer, and maybe even grill up a fish for lunch.
"Just give me a fire and my family and I'm happy," he said.
Until then, Peter will keep staving off boredom and loneliness in his room, leaving his balcony door open to let in the sea air.