The most feared scourge of the seas is no longer piracy (excepting Somalia's coast), but the plague.
Norovirus, to be precise, formerly known as the Norwalk virus.
The Norovirus can sink a vacation faster than an iceberg, yet there is absolutely NO excuse for a passenger to get it.
Sorry in advance to the thousands of passengers over the years who have been stricken, but the truth is more uncomfortable than cabin quarantine: you did it to yourself.
Contrary to popular opinion, the Norovirus is not a cruise-only phenomenon.
Indeed, it was originally called the Norwalk virus, so named after a huge outbreak in Norwalk, Ohio some 30 years ago.
It hits millions of people on land and is second only to the common cold.
In particular it ravages through long-term care facilities.
In 2006, two new strains emerged nationwide and were identified by the CDC (Centers for Disease Control).
Think it's bad on ships? Between 2005 and 2006, California saw a 445% increase in Norovirus-related incidents.
Michigan experienced a whopping 800% increase! How can you protect yourself? The answer is the same on land or at sea: wash your hands for a minimum of 30 seconds.
That's it.
If you cannot wash with soap and water, use an alcohol-based sanitizing gel.
Do this before eating and smoking, and certainly after every trip to the washroom.
After all, on cruise ships everything else is done for you.
During an outbreak the crew meticulously bleaches the very walls and ceilings of the kitchen and service areas daily.
As a Lido supervisor on Carnival, my job was to check the stations and tables by running a finger into corners, searching for grease or even dust.
I did this nightly.
Restaurants on land have laughable cleanliness standards compared to ships, and that is saying a great deal indeed.
When encountering my first Norovirus outbreak on Carnival Conquest, I noted all the hand-sanitizers provided for the guests and foolishly figured it would be over soon.
Sanitation stations greeted guests on the gangway even before security did, and the head of each and every buffet line was so armed.
Every bathroom facility had soap as well as sanitizer.
Yet after a few days of observation, I noted with alarm that barely anyone ever used them.
People were so lazy, in fact, that the captain felt obligated to humiliate himself by instructing the guests on how to properly wash their hands over the intercom.
If an outbreak is feared, literally hundreds of employees' lives are turned upside-down with brutal special cleaning duties.
Nomadic packs wander the hallways, bleaching every doorknob, handrail, and wall a hand could possibly touch, and every button on every elevator, coffee machine, and video game.
In the dining rooms we bleach the trays, the menus, the salt-shakers, the ketchup bottles, the toothpick holders, the sneeze-guards, the everything.
Every waiter stayed extra late to double-wash the silverware and polish the glasses twice.
In 2002, Holland America's Amsterdam suffered four cruises in a row with red-alert levels of Norovirus cases.
Despite all their enhanced cleaning, they took the ship out of commission.
With no passengers to perpetuate the virus and an ambitious sanitizing operation that included the TV remotes, bibles, and individual poker chips...
even discarding more than 2,500 pillows...
the next cruise was Norovirus-free.
Cruise ships have a certain ratio of sick calls to passenger count they have to maintain.
When too many folks complain of illness, the ship is required to report it to the port authorities, who report it to the Centers for Disease Control.
The percentage of sick warranting a report is actually only 7%.
The numbers of sick are artificially inflated, however.
When an employee calls in sick, all roommates are quarantined whether sick or not and added to the number.
It is extremely common for crew members, already taxed to the point of exhaustion, to claim illness just to get a full night's sleep.
Yet guests suffering from illness not only do NOT quarantine themselves on board, but frequently begin the cruise already sick! With no possibility of a refund, no one wants to give up their pre-paid vacation! If the phrase 'common sense isn't so common' is any barometer, then it is no wonder so many people are sick on the ships.
Everyone denies it, but we all know a startling percentage of people do not wash after using the toilet or before they eat, whether from poor habits or simply absent-mindedness.
But blame not others, for ye plague ship is thee.
Norovirus, to be precise, formerly known as the Norwalk virus.
The Norovirus can sink a vacation faster than an iceberg, yet there is absolutely NO excuse for a passenger to get it.
Sorry in advance to the thousands of passengers over the years who have been stricken, but the truth is more uncomfortable than cabin quarantine: you did it to yourself.
Contrary to popular opinion, the Norovirus is not a cruise-only phenomenon.
Indeed, it was originally called the Norwalk virus, so named after a huge outbreak in Norwalk, Ohio some 30 years ago.
It hits millions of people on land and is second only to the common cold.
In particular it ravages through long-term care facilities.
In 2006, two new strains emerged nationwide and were identified by the CDC (Centers for Disease Control).
Think it's bad on ships? Between 2005 and 2006, California saw a 445% increase in Norovirus-related incidents.
Michigan experienced a whopping 800% increase! How can you protect yourself? The answer is the same on land or at sea: wash your hands for a minimum of 30 seconds.
That's it.
If you cannot wash with soap and water, use an alcohol-based sanitizing gel.
Do this before eating and smoking, and certainly after every trip to the washroom.
After all, on cruise ships everything else is done for you.
During an outbreak the crew meticulously bleaches the very walls and ceilings of the kitchen and service areas daily.
As a Lido supervisor on Carnival, my job was to check the stations and tables by running a finger into corners, searching for grease or even dust.
I did this nightly.
Restaurants on land have laughable cleanliness standards compared to ships, and that is saying a great deal indeed.
When encountering my first Norovirus outbreak on Carnival Conquest, I noted all the hand-sanitizers provided for the guests and foolishly figured it would be over soon.
Sanitation stations greeted guests on the gangway even before security did, and the head of each and every buffet line was so armed.
Every bathroom facility had soap as well as sanitizer.
Yet after a few days of observation, I noted with alarm that barely anyone ever used them.
People were so lazy, in fact, that the captain felt obligated to humiliate himself by instructing the guests on how to properly wash their hands over the intercom.
If an outbreak is feared, literally hundreds of employees' lives are turned upside-down with brutal special cleaning duties.
Nomadic packs wander the hallways, bleaching every doorknob, handrail, and wall a hand could possibly touch, and every button on every elevator, coffee machine, and video game.
In the dining rooms we bleach the trays, the menus, the salt-shakers, the ketchup bottles, the toothpick holders, the sneeze-guards, the everything.
Every waiter stayed extra late to double-wash the silverware and polish the glasses twice.
In 2002, Holland America's Amsterdam suffered four cruises in a row with red-alert levels of Norovirus cases.
Despite all their enhanced cleaning, they took the ship out of commission.
With no passengers to perpetuate the virus and an ambitious sanitizing operation that included the TV remotes, bibles, and individual poker chips...
even discarding more than 2,500 pillows...
the next cruise was Norovirus-free.
Cruise ships have a certain ratio of sick calls to passenger count they have to maintain.
When too many folks complain of illness, the ship is required to report it to the port authorities, who report it to the Centers for Disease Control.
The percentage of sick warranting a report is actually only 7%.
The numbers of sick are artificially inflated, however.
When an employee calls in sick, all roommates are quarantined whether sick or not and added to the number.
It is extremely common for crew members, already taxed to the point of exhaustion, to claim illness just to get a full night's sleep.
Yet guests suffering from illness not only do NOT quarantine themselves on board, but frequently begin the cruise already sick! With no possibility of a refund, no one wants to give up their pre-paid vacation! If the phrase 'common sense isn't so common' is any barometer, then it is no wonder so many people are sick on the ships.
Everyone denies it, but we all know a startling percentage of people do not wash after using the toilet or before they eat, whether from poor habits or simply absent-mindedness.
But blame not others, for ye plague ship is thee.