The Wall Street Journal recently "discovered" that Galveston, Texas, is a central cruise hub, treating the news like a shocking revelation. Texans, however, are rolling their eyes—Galveston has been a top cruise destination for years.
Texans are accustomed to the media from the East and West Coasts portraying their state as if it belongs in a Western film. Still, the most recent instance of disconnected reporting originates from The Wall Street Journal.
In an article published Tuesday, the WSJ conveyed surprise that Galveston ranks among the busiest cruise hubs in the nation. The headline—"Your next tropical vacation may begin in…Galveston?"—exudes an air of astonishment and doubt, suggesting that the idea of departing from Texas for a getaway seems almost implausible.
The article's opening line leaves something to be desired: "The cruise-ship industry is embracing a destination that might surprise you: Galveston, Texas."
Naturally, Texans are not taken aback. Galveston has long been a popular destination for cruises, highlighted by Royal Caribbean's inauguration of a third passenger terminal in 2019. The city has become the fourth-busiest cruise port in the U.S., with an anticipated 1.7 million passengers to be handled this year.
Although the WSJ characterizes Galveston as "not synonymous with luxury travel," Texans know the island has historically served as a vibrant gateway to the Caribbean. The national media may be on the same page. However, today is not that day.
The Port of Galveston is charting a bold course for economic expansion with the opening of its fourth cruise terminal this November. With projections of a $177 million financial boost, the island is gearing up for another banner year as a premier cruise hub in North America.
It wasn’t chocolate eggs the tide brought in this Easter weekend—Texas police discovered bundles of cocaine washing ashore on Jamaica Beach, likely dumped from a ship offshore.
Last weekend’s fire at the historic George Ball House has left Galveston residents heartbroken—and reflecting on the city’s long, fiery past. The 168-year-old structure suffered extreme damage, echoing a lesser-known but far more destructive fire in 1885 that destroyed 40 blocks of the East End.