+18,000km on the maiden voyage and inaugural sailing from Eemshaven to Hong Kong
Approximate route from Eemshaven to Hong Kong. Distance shown in kilometres for an approximate sense of the journey.
When I signed my cruise ship contract in September 2017, I imagined myself joining the ship in Papenburg, Germany, where it was being constructed.
But as with many things in cruise ship life, reality showed up with its own itinerary.
I was given a ticket to fly from Kuala Lumpur to Schiphol Airport. I assumed Amsterdam was simply the nearest airport and we'd be taken from there to the ship.
Before I even left for the airport, HR emailed to let me know that my 12.40 am flight had been delayed to 1.35 am. Then, while I was at the airport, it was delayed again to 4 am.
By the time I arrived in Amsterdam, I was tired and had to wait for the other crew members arriving on different flights. The agent was there too, waiting for everyone before taking us to the ship.
I wandered around the airport a little and took a photo with the I amsterdam sign outside. Once everyone had arrived, we set off for the ship. I sat by the window, dozing on and off and occasionally noticing signboards I couldn't understand.
It wasnāt until two or three days later, when we were given a brief chance to go ashore to a nearby seafarersā centre, that I realised something was off.
I casually asked the man working there for a German SIM card. He laughed and pointed out that I was in the Netherlands.
That was how I found out the ship had already left the German shipyard and was now docked in Eemshaven, Netherlands, for its final stage of preparation.
*waits for someone to read this post and tell me that I was absolutely dumb AF*
What is a maiden voyage or inaugural sailing?
In cruise ship speak, a maiden voyage typically refers to the first journey a ship makes after being built. An inaugural sailing usually refers to the first official cruise with passengers, although the terminology isn't always used consistently.
In my case, I wasn't quite sure which part of the journey counted as which. I joined the ship in Eemshaven after it had already left the shipyard in Papenburg, then stayed through the sea trials, the journey to Hong Kong and the beginning of its first season.
So rather than trying to put a precise label on one particular leg, I think of it as being part of the ship's inaugural season.
I didn't board at the ship's birthplace or wave off media teams. But I was there for the test runs, the early crossings and the gradual transition from a ship being prepared to a ship carrying guests.
Port days in Eemshaven
The ship was docked in Eemshaven for about a month before sailing. Those days were a blur of training, familiarisation, and figuring out how not to get lost onboard.
Eemshaven itself was quiet. Wind turbines spun in the cold air, sheep grazed nearby, and there wasnāt much around aside from the seafarersā centre.
On my off-hours, Iād walk along the roads and grassy fields in the crisp autumn air. Sometimes Iād stand on the top deck and watch the wind turbines in the distance, their massive blades turning slowly against the bluish-grey sky.
A couple of times, I ventured into Delfzijl, a nearby town with quiet streets where people seemed to move at a slower pace, either walking or riding bicycles. The shops closed early ā early enough to remind me I was no longer in a big city.
One of those visits was during a āblackout partyā, when all 800 of us crew were sent into town to unwind. I think the name came from the fact that the ship was nearly emptied out. For one evening, we werenāt crew. We were just people with dinner plans.
I also managed a quick day trip to Groningen, where the streets felt more alive. Coincidentally, it was Saudi Arabiaās National Day ā which doesnāt really matter, but the memory stuck.
Preparing a cruise ship before its first guests arrive is a little like moving into a hotel while itās still being finished. Different departments had very different jobs, and I probably had it easier than some of the people doing the actual physical setup. My ten-hour duty days were long, but compared with regular operations, they were relatively manageable.
At one point, someone reported a missing sofa from a cabin. It turned out the sofa had been offloaded. Whether that was intentional, a mistake, or part of some grand sofa heist, Iāll never know. But it gave us a maze chase and then something to laugh about.
During sea trials, the ship was still very much a worksite. There were cables around, construction happening in some areas, and people carrying things back and forth as they got the ship ready.
I mostly stayed out of the way, walking the same route between my workspace and the crew mess, along the plastic-covered carpet around the construction areas. After a while, I got very familiar with that particular stretch of carpet.
Crossing continents by sea
When the ship finally left port, we began our journey to Asia. We stopped first in Gibraltar, where I got a rare chance to step ashore. I didnāt have much time, but I remember being glad just to set foot in a new country.
Next came the Suez Canal. We stopped at Port Said, but we werenāt allowed to disembark for security reasons, and I was on duty anyway.
The Suez Canal sounds like a huge deal now that I think about it. At the time, I only got a few minutes to see it during a break, when I went up to the boat deck. The rest of the day, I was indoors without a window, carrying on with work. By night, there wouldn't have been much to see anyway.
If I could do that part of the journey again, I'd spend more time outside on deck. I was so used to being cooped up onboard that I didn't think much about getting some sunshine or watching the surroundings. It's surprisingly easy to go days without properly being outdoors when you live and work on a ship.
As we entered the high-risk areas in the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden, the mood changed. Some maritime security guards came onboard to escort the ship through that part of the route. They were carrying guns. I assume they were British, probably because we had just come from Gibraltar.
For three days, more or less, all the windows were blacked out, curtains drawn and deck lights switched off. We werenāt allowed outdoors at night either. The precautions were there because of the risk of piracy in the waters we were passing through.
I imagine it must have looked strange from the outside ā a huge cruise ship designed to be covered in lights, deliberately trying not to be seen.
We stopped in Colombo, Sri Lanka, though I didnāt get to step off again. More crew members joined the ship there, including people from my department, which made things feel a little livelier after weeks with a smaller group onboard.
Then came Singapore, where the ship paused briefly before the final leg to Hong Kong. We picked up some passengers, although nowhere near full capacity. They may have been VIPs, media or influencers there to experience the new ship, or simply passengers travelling that one-way leg to Hong Kong.
I didnāt think much about it at the time. We already knew operations were approaching, so there was plenty to get ready for. A few more crew members also joined us in Singapore.
Most days, I wasnāt connected. The ship had limited free wifi, and I hadnāt started using international SIM cards or eSIMs. I didnāt have a live map to track where we were or where we had stopped.
My cabin TV probably showed our location, but I rarely turned it on. I pieced together the journey from memory, scattered notes, and whatever I could find later online.
The ship also adjusted the time onboard as we crossed time zones. Every so often, the clocks would move forward by an hour. It was strange to lose an hour while spending most of the day in the same place.
Hong Kong, here we go
Hong Kong was where the shipās regular cruising began, with itineraries operating out of both Hong Kong and Nansha, Guangzhou.
There were more crew, more guests, more movement and, for us, a lot more work. The Hong Kong and China sailings were busy, so whatever breathing room we had during the preparation period was pretty much gone.
We were constantly working ā cleaning, organising, running drills, and keeping things moving behind the scenes. The ship no longer felt like a workplace preparing to open. It was now properly in business.
I didnāt get shore leave again until Manila. It had been three weeks since Gibraltar, and by then, stepping off the ship felt like a much bigger deal than it probably should have.
After weeks of seeing mostly the same corridors, cabins and decks, it was strange to suddenly be surrounded by a city again.
I crossed continents without much travel
Iāve been to Europe, Africa, and South Asia. I passed North Atlantic Ocean and Indian Ocean.
But I didnāt step off the ship in most places, and I couldnāt tell you how long it takes to walk up the Rock of Gibraltar, or what the weather was like in Egypt.
What I remember is the sheep by the wind turbines, the grey Dutch skies, and a lot of days with nothing to see but sea.
I wasnāt really travelling in the usual sense. I was working, sleeping, eating and occasionally getting off the ship when shore leave happened to be possible.
Maybe it counts as travel. Maybe I just earned a few bragging rights.
Either way, I crossed continents and mostly just got lost ā and thatās something too. I guess.
The 18,000km figure is my own rough calculation based on the route, rather than an official voyage distance.
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