This is cabin 15021 on the MSC Divina, a Yacht Club balcony cabin.
We were on MSC Divina for Christmas, with calls in San Juan, Tortola, St Maarten and Nassau. This was our second MSC cruise, having sailed on MSC Seaside in May. I started doing daily posts, and I still have my random notes, but the overall impression is more important than the daily details. This was a good cruise badly marred by missed expectations.
MSC Divina is a beautiful ship. The layout is a bit quirky but it is easy to get around. There are four elevator banks where many mega ships only have two. There are lots of bars, and they are spaced where the music from one doesn’t interfere with the music from the next. The buffet is large, with good selections. It is a large ship, and it will feel crowded. The customers will be much more European than other lines, and much more multi-lingual. If you’re used to hearing only English, this can be an issue.
We were in the Yacht Club (YC), which is MSC’s “ship within a ship” concept. When you look at MSC cruise ships and procedures, they borrow heavily from other lines. They’re building big ships like Royal, they were pricing like Carnival and the Yacht Club sounds a lot like Norwegian’s Haven. We have been in the Haven on four ships in three classes (Jewel, Epic and Breakaway class.) Yacht Club is not the Haven. It’s not even close.
I’ve asked some more experienced MSC cruisers for their thoughts on Facebook, and it doesn’t sound like it was us. It sounds like we may not have understood how MSC operates butI believe that is incumbent on them to explain as they enter a new market. I did get the tired “you’re American” excuse, but that’s my point – MSC wants to succeed in the US market, so treating us all like Europeans is going to fail. It did this week.
One common explanation of the service is that all MSC ships are run as individual business units, so there can be “inconsistencies”. I was told Yacht Club on other ships was better than on Divina. That is a lesson I wish I had known before the cruise. I am not interested in spending money and then find out, “Oh, that’s the bad ship.” This is enough to prevent me sailing in the Yacht Club in the future. Anything that may or may not be worth the money is not worth the risk.
Another common comment is that the service is “European”, not “American”, with the implication that Americans are very needy, demand constant attention, and all eat at McDonalds. Basically, we have no class. I’ve been to Europe. I know how service worked in Europe. This service was not to that level. Furthermore, if I am told that my needs will be met, then someone asking me within a few minutes of my arrival if I would like a drink is not unreasonable.
The reality for me is that Europeans are very defensive about “their” cruise line, and all complaints are reflected back on the speaker. “You Americans don’t understand.” “Americans are so high maintenance.” “Americans are too touchy-feely.” If Europeans want to spend twice the fare for worse service, that is their prerogative, but don’t tell me I’m needy just because I expect a drink in less than a half-hour in a bar that only serves five percent of the ship. All that place has is drinks. Where is mine?
Each evening, we would go into the Top Sail lounge (reserved for Yacht Club guests), find a table, and watch as butlers would serve other tables. After ten or fifteen minutes (or more), one would eventually ask if we wanted something. It should not be incumbent on me to go find someone to ask for service. If I go to the bar to get my own drink, magically appearing and offering to carry it to my table is not helpful. So, how does this work? Why did others get constant service?
When I finally went to the bar one night, a butler magically appeared and said she would bring the drinks to our table. That is half-assed service. Perhaps that is European service, but then tell me, “It’s like Panchos. You have to get everything yourself, but we’ll bring refills.”
One person on Facebook said that he would order drinks at the bar, and a butler would bring it to him. I finally started just sitting at the bar in the morning for coffee. If that’s the system, then somebody needs to say, up front, “Just order what you’d like at the bar, and we’ll bring it to you.” Otherwise, if I see a lounge with an empty bar, people sitting at tables with drinks, and waiters (“butlers”) wandering, I’m going to assume table service.
The interesting part of just sitting at the bar was watching the interactions of the bar staff and the butlers. The butlers who may fawn over customers can be rude to the bartenders. Caste system?
I was sitting at the bar one morning, finishing a double espresso, and one of the butlers noticed, and said, “Would you like another?” I said, “Yes”, and she turned and barked “Double espresso” to the bartender – who was standing in front of me. He brewed a double espresso, took it to her and she brought it to me — four seats down the bar. How is this any better service than I could have gotten on my own? Where is the true value add?
Some on Facebook said they always smiled, and they got good service. This implies that we are not friendly. Yes, we did smile. We did say, “Hello.” I tend to say “Howdy” to anyone I pass, just because I’ve had too many family members attend Texas A&M. Now, did we spend hours discussing the staffs’ wants and dreams? No, and I shouldn’t have to do so for a basic level of service. Nobody on the staff knew our names. We had to ask our “dedicated” butler twice for extra towels. We didn’t even see him until the second day and he said they were short-handed and he was doing extra cabins. This is not my problem.
In retrospect, that first meeting should have prepared me for the week. If the first thing you are told is basically, “Expect poor service”, it will come true.
On arrival in the room, Virginia noticed what looked like a bloodstain on one of the pillowcases. She mentioned it to the room steward who was suitably horrified and replaced it – with another stained pillowcase. Who is bleeding in the laundry? Who is doing quality control?
Muster Drill was more organized than on MSC Seaside, but still completely unorganized. We did manage to sign in this time, but then we were asked where our life jackets were. We haven’t had to bring life jackets to a drill in ten years or more. I asked if I should go get them, since Virginia’s back was bothering her, and was told, “If anyone asks, just tell them you haven’t been to the room yet.” We were not the only ones without life jackets, but it did mean we couldn’t giggle and take selfies putting them on while the emergency information was being reviewed. If MSC ever has an emergency, it will be catastrophic. If the staff can’t handle a crowd in a drill, how will they handle a crisis?
San Juan (our first port call) was a debacle because we arrived late, and it was an evening call to begin with. The Cruise Director let everybody off the ship at once and then they had to try to get the excursions people off – and that blocked the doors so thoroughly that YC (“priority”) passengers could not get out. Again, crowd control. While we were standing in a crew corridor looking at the mobs of humanity, the port was closed when a Celebrity ship arrived. We almost missed a 7:30pm dinner reservation at a restaurant five minutes from port. We arrived in port at 4pm.
If you are going to sell priority embarkation and disembarkation as a perk, then those people need to go first. You don’t call the entire ship at once, especially when you’re late coming into port and people were freaking out about making it to their excursions. This was not a Yacht Club issue, I think it was a Cruise Director issue.
For Tortola and St Maarten, we had MSC-booked excursions, so we met by the concierge desk and were lead in groups to our excursions. It’s nice but I can find my excursion. I heard one man complaining about having to wait for the butler when he could have been outside at his tour already.
We had a junior butler see us coming back in St Maarten and he did escort us around the lines and onto the ship, past the hordes. It was a short port day and everyone was getting on at once. That was helpful. Our “dedicated” butler was nowhere in sight. However, there was a dedicated gangway for YC, so we could have found it ourselves.
In Nassau, we walked over to Senor Frogs for lunch. As the conga line wandered by, a bartender squirted sour mix from a ketchup bottle in my mouth, and our waiter was trying to avoid everyone since he was on roller skates carrying a tray of drinks, I realized what had been missing all week: fun. The Yacht Club was not fun, it was formal – but unwritten formal. It was the formal like having your grandkids at your Mom’s house, and watching constantly to make sure they don’t break anything. I hate formal. The Yacht Club is a bunch of Europeans pretending to be royalty. That is not me. I like butlers and service and high tea, but I don’t need to pretend to be upper class on vacation. I need to relax.
The food In the Yacht Club private restaurant is decent but the menu is very limited. While it changes each day, it is generally “meat in sauce”, “fish in sauce”, “risotto or pasta”, and “vegetarian.” It can get old quickly. We did have the restaurant manager preparing pasta every evening as a “special”, but if you’re on a low-carb diet, it’s really not the best thing to eat (it was delicious.) The lunch and dinner menus were very similar.
One day, I really didn’t want generic meat in sauce for lunch again – plus we were by the pool, in gale-force winds. My wife noticed a butler clearing pizza from a table, so we asked if we could just have pizza delivered to the One Pool lounge. We were told “no.” That is a word I did not expect to hear in an area where all my needs are met. Someone else had pizza, why not us?
We asked another butler later in the lounge (to see if it was policy or just a lazy butler), and he said, if one got it, everyone would want it (can’t you make more pizza?), it’s a lounge, not for eating (but they serve snacks), management didn’t want it (blame someone off the ship.)
At that point, YC completely failed at its mission. I wanted something easily accessible, I asked for something, they said “No.”
We got our Voyagers Club Diamond gift (drawstring backpacks) but never got our chocolate ships. We asked the room steward who said they were only for certain guests. We said “we are those guests” and he said he would ask the butler. (How did he not know we were Diamond guests? Somebody brought us backpacks as “thank you gifts.”)
The butler blamed the cruise consultant. The butler brought us another set of backpacks with the explanation that the cruise consultant missed some people on the list and others had not received it either. The ships then arrived at 8:10am on debarkation day.
We needed cash the last morning, so I went to ask the concierge if there was an ATM active on board. I had the question half-out when her phone rang, and she started what sounded like a personal call and walked into the office and closed the door. There was no backup at the desk.
This was not even bad service. It was negative service. This was “you are not important to me at all.” We were not made to “feel special.” We had a good cruise ruined by missed expectations.
- I expect to meet my “dedicated” butler before day two.
- I expect “dedicated butler” means a person will check in on you and see if everything is going well, and if you need anything.
- I expect “priority disembarkation” means “first” or at least “after organized excursions.”
- I expect to walk into a lounge and have someone come to take an order – especially if they are delivering drinks to a table next to me.
- I expect to have a question answered if I have started the conversation. I don’t mind having the question interrupted, but I don’t expect to have it replaced by another conversation.
- I expect reasonable requests will be met.
- I expect some joy on a Christmas cruise.
We stopped at one of the bars one night on the way back from dinner, since the couple playing were doing Beatles songs. We sat at the bar, ordered drinks, and the bartender looked at my card and said, “Hey! My name is Kevin, too!” and gave me an exploding fist-bump. That may have been the first time someone used my name all week. Also, he was friendly – and having fun. What’s wrong with the Yacht Club staff?
Our last night on the ship, we went to the Butcher’s Cut (the specialty steakhouse) for dinner, since we get a free dinner as one of our Diamond perks. Virginia looked at the wine list and couldn’t find the Pinot Noir we had been drinking. She does not like most wine, so finding one she liked had been a minor miracle. She asked the waiter if they had it, showed him the photo of the label, and he said, “I’ll get it for you.” He went to the Yacht Club restaurant, got a bottle, and served us. That is the level of service I expected all week in the Yacht Club.
The Yacht Club was a huge disappointment and personally I think a complete waste of money. We had a better cruise on MSC Seaside in the Fantastica experience because we didn’t have many expectations and those were met or exceeded – with the exception of the sharps container issues. We have been in the Haven on Norwegian and the Yacht Club is not even close. This Yacht Club staff couldn’t meet basic Norwegian crew standards.
Was it bad? No, we’re still alive, we’re fed, we’re rested. Was it good? No, the service wasn’t anywhere near the level of expectation or even my level of tolerance. Was it worth the money? No. Do I recommend it for Americans? No. Do I recommend it for anyone who wants excellent service? No.
Wow. This breakfast order did not look like this much on the card. Room service breakfast was served on time and everything was correct. It was tasty, as well. The salmon was on toast (not a bagel?) and there weren’t capers, but it was good and I usually don’t like salmon – except on a bagel. The meat tray was ham, turkey, salami and mortadella. The Egg McMuffin knock-off had a real poached egg and Hollandaise. Virginia said it was tasty but it needs to be served hotter than room service. The coffee was good.
The Cruise Critic Meet & Greet was fun but not very informative. We were a couple of minutes late, but people were milling about so I don’t think we missed anything. The free drink choices were Prosecco, non-alcoholic fruit punch or a vodka Martini. Day drinking at its finest.
Our cruise director ran the meeting – unlike the MSC Seaside, the Captain did not attend. Like the Seaside, the host spoke and did not introduce any of the other staff that attended. We then took a group photo, Virginia was asked to cut the cake (MSC always has a cake) and after everyone was served, the staff filed out.
So, no introductions, no little cards with contact info, just booze and cake.
We took most of the afternoon off since it was a sea day but windy enough to cancel a lot of outdoor events.
I did have a shave in the spa and managed to tour much of it trying to find the check-in desk. We will have to spend time there later since it is included with the Yacht Club.
This was the first formal (“elegant”) night so we had photos with the Captain. So, we now know he exists.
Portraits with the Captain were in the bar which is our muster station, so we knew how to get there.
We were early so we sat in the bar to listen to the music (Christmas songs, including “Christmas Time is Here”). The waitress came by with a tray of Prosecco, non-alcoholic fruit punch and Rum Sours. I had never heard of a Rum Sour. It was good. Virginia hated it.
After a minute, I realized everyone was being offered drinks. We were not in the Yacht Club. We were not asked for a card. We were given … free drinks. This was a first on any cruise and this is our 21st.
The formal night menu in Le Muse was disappointing – the entrees were two vegetarian selections and two seafood. The escargot appetizer was decent but I’ve had better (at Le Bistro, for example.) Virginia and I both had filets. I had Crepes Suzette for dessert because it’s not like you see that on a menu many places these days. It was excellent and saved the meal.
We stopped by the room to change and someone had delivered a box of macrons. To diabetics. Things are looking up.
Back to the Top Sail lounge for late night (for us, anyway.) Different singer, same pronunciations. Smooth jazz is not a way to keep people involved and if you have a singer performing with a prerecorded track, it’s watching professional karaoke.
The room service menu is really limited. We finally ordered pizza for a late-night snack. Room service options is one place Carnival kicks other lines’ asses. All you offer is three sandwiches or a couple of salads? Yes, I know we could go to the buffet, but on Seaside, the buffet after about 10pm was sandwiches and pizza.
Having the buffet open 22 hours a day is an MSC selling point. Having decent selections 22 hours a day would be even better.
The concierge handled our pizza order. The concierge this afternoon got my shave appointment. The one this morning told us how to traverse the ship most efficiently. So far, the concierge has been more useful than the butler, which is the same as the Norwegian Haven.
Time to see how the pizza is. My order was wrong but it looks good. It’s pizza, how bad can it be? (It was very tasty.)
We lose an hour tonight. Curse you, time zones!
I am behind on this and I’m not journaling as I was on the MSC Seaside, but this is our first time in the Yacht Club, and I hate long reviews, so I’ll write as we go. Edits as I’m corrected or remember more.
So, weirdness first. I’m writing this in the Top Sail lounge, the exclusive Yacht Club bar, it’s 9:15pm and there are a dozen people in here, at most. This I do not understand.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
Embarkation was smooth but we’re in the Yacht Club. That said, Miami cab drivers suck. Our cab driver would not take us to the pre-board tent for the Yacht Club and the cops directing traffic don’t want to admit there are two ways onto the ship. While it’s not directly MSC’s fault, if you tell your highest-paying guests they have a private doorway, you have to tell the ground staff there are two doors.
After I yelled at the cab driver, and Virginia and I both gave a lady cop death looks, we just got out in the middle of the street by the White Tent.
After that, embarkation was easy – although we didn’t have a private line for security, we just cut around most of the line and then went to the VIP room. It’s designed for people to wait, but we got to the port late for us, so there was no real waiting. We were lead onto the ship, showed how to use our door cards for priority elevator access (hit or miss), and lead to the Top Sail lounge.
After greetings, we went to our room. Deluxe Suite 15021 is just down the hall from the lounge, between the lounge and the exit to the elevators.
There are four banks of elevators. This is a much better design than Norweigan’s Breakaway class and MSC Seaside which have two. Why? People need to go up and down. A lot. Advantage, Divina.
The private restaurant is aft and all the cabins are forward. If you don’t mind walking on deck, you can get there on 15. If it looks like the sky is about to open and you’re in thirty knot winds, you have to go down, across and up. We would use deck seven to go across because there are lots of public areas on seven.
There are no room 17s or deck seventeen because 17 is an unlucky number for Italians. I have to find out why. 13 is unlucky because it was the number of people at the Last Supper. Italians probably also count the caterers.
Le Muse, the Yacht Club private restaurant is nice, it’s just on the opposite end of the ship from the cabins. The menu is a bit limited, but the food is tasty and the waiters are attentive. I do see how Americans who have no been beyond the borders might freak out because most of the choices at lunch were Continental. The classic menu has a filet but I could see getting tired of steak every day if you don’t know what any of the other dishes are.
Muster was chaotic but better than MSC Seaside. We managed to get signed in this time but we didn’t have our life jackets – and this is the first cruise since 2010 that they were required. Virginia was having back issues, so instead of going back to the room, we just said we hadn’t been to the room yet.
Muster on MSC is pointless. All is does is make people find their muster station once, which I suppose is useful information but nobody pays attention to anything else, and since it’s in four or five languages, it takes forever. So, we watched people take cell photos of each other in their life jackets, and then everyone left. If MSC ever has an emergency, people are dying.
This bothers me. I’m sure that the drill meets SOLAS requirements and I watch the video and read the info sheets, but they need a better system if they are trying to actually teach people what to do in an emergency.
Most of the afternoon was in the Top Sail lounge, watching the sail away. As it’s forward, it’s a great view. Plus, there weren’t many people there.
Dinner was back in Le Muse, the Yacht Club private restaurant. I had risotto which was amazing. It was “I think I’m going to cry” good. It was the kind of good that would make a Keto sister cheat.
We stopped by the lounge on the way back to the room and listened to the singer for way longer than we planned. All the singers we’ve heard have been good, but I’m pretty sure are English as a Second Language because they are singing syllables and not words, so every once in a while, it’s “What did she say?”
While I’m typing this, I heard “Just the Two of Us.” While I remember “we can make it if we try”, apparently some think it’s “we can Mack it if we try.” Who is Mack?
The first night was a woman with an acoustic who managed to do “Here Comes the Sun”, “Bad Moon Rising” and “Wish You Were Here” (Pink Floyd by request) in one set. That will be hard to beat.
We went to bed when we realized we had to be functional by 10am for the Cruise Critic Meet & Greet. Since it takes us forever to get out of the room in the morning, we need some leeway.
Virginia put out a card for room service breakfast.
As I was falling asleep, I realized I had not been asked for my card for anything since we boarded. We had drinks in the bar, wine with dinner and more drinks and except for opening the cabin door (and powering the lights), nobody had asked to see my card.
We did have photos taken but it’s not an automated system yet, so they don’t take your card or cabin number. The photos are on the wall. The ones that have you in them are yours. I thought Virginia was going to ask how to tell which photos were hers, but she caught herself.
The wind is up and it’s a very bumpy cruise. Otherwise, a good first day.
Side notes: the butlers are not fawning over us. I’m a bit relieved since I don’t like hovering but I’m wondering about some of the reviews we saw.
One of our pillowcases seemed to have a spot on it. No big deal. It looked like blood. Now it’s a big deal. Virginia told the room steward who showed the proper amount of horror and quickly replaced it. Later that night, there was another one. So, either someone is marking pillow cases with nail polish or there’s a hemophiliac in Laundry.
The Sharps container was requested and immediately brought to the room when we arrived so the Seaside Sharps chase was averted. Guest Services called on day two to make we had received it.
The minibar was restocked with sodas I will drink since it’s included with the room.
This us our first cruise trying to limit carbs. That removes virtually every “island” drink. The struggle is real.