Ryndam Historical

MS Ryndam was the third Holland America ship built in the S-class, entering service in 1994 after Statendam and Maasdam. At 55,819 gross tons for approximately 1,258 passengers, she had no particular distinction from her sisters except the small variations that accumulate on any ship over two decades of use: a dining room server who returns year after year, the way the light moved through the atrium in late afternoon, the arrangement of deck chairs that a certain group of passengers quietly claimed every sea day.

She sailed Eastern Caribbean primarily, and the Mediterranean, and repositioned in between. The itineraries were similar to her sisters' — the S-class ships were not specialized vessels but flexible ones, suited to a dozen routes depending on the season. For twenty-one years she did what was asked of her. The Rotterdam Dining Room held formal nights. The Lido served lunch in the open air. The promenade deck went all the way around. Nothing flashy; nothing broken.

Holland America sold her and Statendam to P&O Australia in 2015, five years before Maasdam and Veendam followed. The two older S-class ships went first — an economics decision, as these things are. She sailed as Pacific Aria until she was done. The passengers who knew Ryndam as Ryndam were not consulted about the sale and not required to be sentimental about it. Most of them were anyway.

— In the Wake editorial

My mother was the one who insisted on formal night. She had grown up in a time when dressing for dinner was not optional, and she had spent most of her adult life watching that practice disappear without comment. When she found Holland America she found a ship that still agreed with her on the point.

I took her on Ryndam for her seventy-fifth birthday — seven nights, Eastern Caribbean, formal night on day three. I had never done a formal night on a cruise. I owned a suit but not a tuxedo. She had been planning what to wear since I booked the tickets, and she arrived at the Rotterdam Dining Room in a silk dress she had kept since 1978 that still fit precisely because she had always been careful with things.

The dining room filled earlier than usual. Men in dark suits, a fair number in dinner jackets. Women in gowns. The servers wore white gloves. The menus were embossed. My mother ordered the beef Wellington and ate every bite without rushing. At some point between the entrée and dessert she set down her fork, looked around the room, and said quietly: "This is what I've been waiting for."

I didn't ask exactly what she meant. I thought I understood well enough. She sailed Ryndam three more times after that. Ryndam was sold in 2015. My mother died in 2019. I'm glad they both kept going as long as they did.

— Carol H.