Musical cruising on the deep blues sea
By Tom Uhlenbrock
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH

PORT EVERGLADES, Fla. - Most cruise ships rock a little. This one rocked a lot.

"It's the best party on the planet," Mike Sanders promised as the Legendary Rhythm & Blues Cruise churned toward its first stop in the Bahamas.

Sanders, a teacher at Central Missouri State University, and his wife, Janet, are veteran blues cruisers. They were on for the full 11 days, which gave Sanders plenty of time for another avocation - he does a radio blues show. As we sat at a table for a late breakfast on the pool deck, there was ample interview material nearby.

Chubby Carrier, whose Bayou Swamp Band rocked the ship the most, joined us with his girlfriend, Misty. Taj Mahal, wearing a huge straw hat and smoking an equally huge cigar, was telling stories at the next table. Koko Taylor, the "Queen of the Blues," looked a bit frail as she walked by with the aid of her daughter, but she would put on a growling, rollicking performance hours later.

Surprisingly, Pinetop Perkins, a few months shy of 90, was up and about despite having played in a jam session that ended in the wee hours the night before. It was 3 a.m. when I last saw him, singing "Big Fat Momma" in a black fedora and sharkskin suit.

"I hope the Lord is forgiving me for the stuff I'm doing down here," Perkins said later in the quiet of the piano bar.

The blues cruise is the brainchild of Roger Naber. He and his wife, Julia, are co-owners of the Grand Emporium, the premier blues club in Kansas City. The idea was to offer the dining and amenities of a first-class chartered cruise ship, but with rhythm-and-blues bands providing the entertainment.

"It's a festival at sea," Naber said. "It's for people looking for blues music in an intimate setting with the musicians. Basically, everyone has a backstage pass."

Naber and a partner, George Myers, offered the first blues cruise in 1992. The string of cruises ended in 1998 with the death of Myers amid financial and legal difficulties. The cruises resumed last year under a new company.

"The fever was still there," Naber said. "We came off the ship last year, and of the 800 paid passengers, 560 pre-booked for this year before we announced the ship or the bands. I'd say we have 300 or more people who have sailed on at least five cruises."

This year, the seven-day cruise on the aptly named Melody, owned by Mediterranean Shipping Cruises, sold out early with 1,060 passengers. Naber added a four-day preview "Bluesin' Blast," giving passengers the option of cruising for four days, seven days or the full 11.

Next Feb. 7 to 14, Naber has booked the Veendam, a Holland America ship, which will sail out of Tampa, Fla., to the western Caribbean. The ship is an upgrade in size (1,260 passengers) and accommodations (149 suites with balconies). The cost for the seven days ranges from $1,100 to $2,600 a person, based on double occupancy, with a $150 discount for booking early. Airfare to and from Florida is not included.

Sanders, the teacher and radio reporter, said the best quote he collected on the 11-day cruise came from an attendant in the accounting office who was making change. "What do you think of the crowd?" Sanders asked the Italian crewman, who was dressed in his starched whites.

"We are not accustomed to your kind," he replied, then thought a minute to formulate the right English words. "Your people are very thirsty."

The passengers on the 11-day blues cruise ranged in age from the late 30s to closing in on 60, with a few exceptions. But don't let the paunches, gray hair and creaky knees fool you. These folks have spent a lifetime honing their partying skills. They were mostly couples, some singles, a few children. California was the best-represented state, and there was a delegation of European blues lovers.

The daily scene on the blues cruise differed from the routine on other ships. Hot tubs, sun decks and swimming pools were largely empty until well past noon, while the cruisers caught up on sleep. One of the two pools on the Melody had been converted to an outdoor stage. The shore excursions seemed an afterthought. What the casino lost in gambling revenue, the bars made up in liquor sales.

"The Germans, some of those Scandinavian guys - you're talking about the Delta Force of drinkers," said Doc Mullet, a veteran cruiser from Lincoln, Neb.

While at dock last year, the patrons of a regular cruise line gathered at the railing to watch the party going on next door. They were welcomed with a full-moon salute.

Wilma "Willie" Moore of Melbourne, Fla., was making her eighth cruise. Moore, a retired nurse, age 70, was among the sprinkling of older people onboard.

"I like all kinds of music, but the blues affords me this wonderful trip every year," she said. "Till the day I die, I'll be a blues cruiser."

Taj Mahal is considered the spiritual leader of the cruises and is a fixture in the lineup. Also onboard with Chubby Carrier, Koko Taylor and Pinetop Perkins for the four-day cruise were Rod Piazza and the Mighty Flyers, Lonnie Brooks, Curtis Salgado, Bernard Allison, Lil' Ed and the Blues Imperials, the Radiators, and Kelley Hunt.

The seven-day cruise had Tyrone Davis, Otis Clay, the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Duke Robillard, Shemekia Copeland, Tommy Castro, Terrance Simien, John Mooney, Ronnie Baker Brooks, and Alvin Youngblood Hart.

Hunt, who plays the keyboards like Marcia Ball and sings like Bonnie Raitt, is from the Kansas City area and was a welcome discovery for cruisers seeing her for the first time. A high point came when Hunt abandoned the stage and microphone to venture into the audience for a gospel-tinged song about rejoining departed loved ones in later life.

"Man, that was like a tent revival," said Mullet, the Nebraska native. "Make an atheist go to church."

The seven-day cruise made stops at the Dominican Republic, Tortola and St. Croix, which has declared the blues-cruise arrivals a national holiday. Government workers are given the day off, and local bands join those from the ship for an all-day festival at the baseball stadium.

Naber, the promoter, makes a practice of bringing along several unannounced special guests. Pinetop Perkins was one of the surprises this year. "We want to give people more than they're paying for," Naber said.

Glen Cannon, an addiction counselor from Naperville, Ill., said he signed on for the four-day cruise after seeing an ad in a blues magazine.

"I thought, 'Blues and cruise, blues and cruise' - it was a no-brainer," Cannon said. "I could stay right here for the four days. Just keep the music coming."

Cannon had a mission on the first stop of the four-day portion of the cruise at Port Lucaya on Grand Bahama Island. He wanted to go emerald shopping. Rocky Rockwell, a former IRS agent from Jacksonville, Fla., and I joined him. We planned to rent scooters, but settled on a pink topless dune buggy for $50 for the day. We ignored the black clouds overhead.

Both Rockwell and I had spent time on the island's West End, so we headed there first to revisit old haunts. The Jack-Tar Resort was long gone, replaced by the Old Bahama Bay condos and a swanky marina. As we headed back, rain started pouring. Cannon, the driver, hit a puddle, drenching the poor chump in the backseat - me.

We stopped for directions and cold beers at Henry's Place, where the islanders were listening to the Bobby Vinton sing "Blue Velvet" on the radio. Ominous clouds forced us to cancel the search for jewels.

The performers on the ship are expected to be fan-friendly. Prima donnas are not booked. The stars participate in autograph parties, pose for pictures, sign blues-cruise posters, and take part in workshops.

In return, the bands on the cruise get to meet one-on-one not only with their audience, but with one another as well. After the scheduled performances each night, various musicians showed up on the lounge stage for jam sessions, some of which lasted till dawn and produced the hottest playing on the cruise.

"It's an opportunity to get away in the winter for some sea and sun and be around the music that you love," Taj Mahal said. "You're making contact with the guys that you've been listening to on vinyl.

"And I like hanging out with the people. I've always been that way. I don't have bodyguards. I wash and iron my own clothes on the road."

An afternoon stroll around the top deck found Kelley Hunt, the Kansas City singer, practicing her boogie-woogie in the piano bar, which was empty except for her husband, bassist Al Berman.

Hunt was making her first cruise and had brought along her teenage son, Adrian. Hunt was as wide-eyed as the next blues fan about spending time with some of the legends.

"We're isolated a lot - if we see another musician, it's usually 'Hi and bye. Great show, gotta go,' " she said. "Night before last, I met Pinetop. About had a fit. This is the first time I've met Taj. We actually went out and listened to Chubby Carrier and got to dance and wear ourselves out.

"I hope they invite me back. I don't want to even get off the boat."

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