Inside the SS Rotterdam there were tipsy ghosts in full-skirted flower-patterned gowns serenaded by Frank Sinatra. They sat on squat chairs designed for bustles to be draped over the back.
Outside, on the deck, the promenading ghosts seemed to have been whisked away by the chill weather, but the stiff breeze offered an opportunity to get some views across the bay of the Rotterdam skyline.
And there was, looking down from the ship’s bridge, an anchor chain that could have been forged by a Greek God. A see-through shield protected sailors from hurtling debris dredged up with the anchor.
On the other end of the ship there was a tiny pool showing how times have changed when it comes to traveling water sports.
For me the saddest peek at the past was checking out the pitiful outline of a former shuffle board. Perhaps it was embarrassment of revisiting a scene that will never have the glamour of an on-deck driving range, not gusts of wind, that vanished the ghosts from our presence.
Now the SS Rotterdam is a floating hotel permanently docked and guests can dine and study the activity on the bay.
