The Ship's Newsletter Says "The Journey Begins"

It’s 3 pm. I’m sitting in my cabin (we call it a “suite”) trying to keep awake until tea time. Sat outside since my two breakfasts reading. 1^st was lactose free chocolate and raspberry pastries made by the pastry chef Ann Marie Milk (!) who was on my last cruise last February in Asia. She made me a dairy free chocolate soufflé last night. The 2^nd breakfast was a light repast of herring and bacon. (Ya gotta have enough salt when on the sea to ward off scurvy or is it rickets?) I read the first half of Last night at the Lobster, had lunch, and just finished the book. I really enjoyed it once I got into it. The author, Stewart O’Nan, thanked his family in for “putting up with a year of Red Lobster talk”. I guess the family of a professional author has to put up with a lot.

 

Sail out yesterday evening from Los Angeles was fun. A large container ship appeared to be coming right at us as we exited the sprawling Los Angeles/Long Beach complex, the brochure says it is the busiest commercial port in the USA. A seafood restaurant on the ship channel bleared a greeting from their PA system wishing us a bon voyage message, or maybe it was the theme from the Titanic. It was hard to tell, but the LA Port Police onboard waved their machine guns at them. The Brits onboard ran up and back pointing out what they believed was the Queen Mary. They actually were looking at an abandoned fish processing plant. But with big smoke stacks.

 

Ship at 250 guests and 350+ crew is kind of empty except for an army (or is it navy) of bar attendants who prowl the ship offering “drink, sir?” incessantly. I believe there is one assigned to look under toilet stall doors to ensure that nobody is thirsty. So far there are no people on this segment who look like particularly good companions, but it’s early in the trip. I suspect the Mexican itinerary does not get particularly interesting folks—some are signing up for a “walking tour of Cabo San Lucas” or “Swimming with THE dolphins.”, but the next segment in Ecuador, Peru, and Chile should have a more interesting group I’m sure. Today is the 1^st formal night, and I’ve been invited to dine with the Captain. This is the senior captain on Silversea. He is very stern Sicilian who brooks no informality—although about 10 years younger than I am seems like he’s older and wiser—but who on the last time I sailed with him started to call me professori and invited me to join him on the bridge as we sailed into Venice. I guess it’s a big deal to be one of the 5 invited to his table on the 1^st formal night even if, as the say, I have to eat with the staff. OK, as long as I don’t have to drink any grappa and I can put up with the others asking questions such as, “Does the ship make its own electricity?” I remember some years ago I was invited to join a soon to retire captain for dinner. He spent the entire evening explaining the Italian retirement tax laws to the 6 of us who slowly nodded and nodded off. I guess that was on his mind. We drank a lot of wine.

 

Another day at sea tomorrow and then a half day in Cabo San Lucas.