By Suzanne Sparrow Watson
Like many people my age, I spend time thinking about what my next move will be. Sometimes I feel like a tweenager – too young for a retirement community and too old to downsize to a mixed-age neighborhood. But I stumbled upon a unique alternative the other day while reading an online newspaper – move into a cruise ship. Just imagine – waking up each morning to the gentle sway of the sea, sipping coffee on my private balcony as the sun rises over a new horizon, wandering down to a dining room where someone cooks a breakfast to order. Apparently, taking back-to-back cruises has become increasingly popular. People are selling their primary residence, renting a small apartment, and then cruising the world. Some people choose to book consecutive trips on the same ship, while others book different cruise lines to break up the monotony. And one company, Villa Vie, offers “condos” one can buy for a 15-year lease. Fifteen years!!! It visits 147 countries and 425 destinations over a three-and-a-half-year cycle and then repeats. I don’t know about you, but I think I’d kill someone after spending 15 months in such small confines.
Of course, on social media there are many opinions about “retirement cruising”. On the plus side, there is room, board, entertainment, laundry, free Wi-Fi and, of course, travel. On the downside, many suggest that people get “ship happy” confined to such small spaces for a long time. Still others, many who have worked on cruise ships, advise that although every ship has a medical staff, they are not really qualified to handle some of the specialized maladies that confront older people, much less a full-blown emergency. I think one would have to take the attitude that dying on a cruise ship beats many other ways one can leave this mortal coil.
I was intrigued by the concept of living on a cruise ship, but honestly, I envisioned lots of noisy children, bachelor parties, or, equally dispiriting, hallways lined with wheelchairs. But then I found my ideal ship – The World. The World has 165 privately owned apartments, ranging from 290-square-foot studios to 3,240-square-foot four-bedroom residences. Like many cruises, the ship has multiple restaurants and bars, yoga classes and a gym, two pools, a medical center and round-the-clock room service. Unlike other cruise ships, the owners call many of the shots. They vote on things like the itinerary, they vote for refurbishments on the ship, as well as its board of directors. The World docks in around 100 ports per year, stopping for two to five days, rather than a few hours. Of course, as you might suspect, the cost of such luxury is a bit steep: prices for residences range from $2.4 million to $15 million — a figure which doesn’t include quarterly maintenance fees, which can be around 10% of the purchase price annually. If the price doesn’t deter you, their entrance requirement might trip you up: potential buyers are vetted, and, in addition to financial and criminal checks, buyers need two letters of recommendation from an existing resident. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know even ONE person who has that kind of money to throw around on a ship condo. Or one that would vouch for me, for that matter.
In any event, I’ve ruled out The World as a retirement option. Not just because of the expense, but because they don’t allow dogs on board. Now what kind of morons expect you to leave your dog when you buy one of these condos? Apparently very rich ones. I think Dooley and I will keep looking.