Flamin_June

Yes I agree. Again today during the Captain’s noontime announcements, all passengers were strongly advised to wear masks, especially indoors. We were also told that those under observation were all comfortable and in good spirits. A fellow passenger told A this morning that there were a couple of ottomans on deck 7 and one on deck 9; I haven't walked along decks 4 and 6 but it seems as if the outbreak is limited and being contained. Absolutely full marks to the Captain for taking decisive action early on and keeping everyone informed. Life goes on pretty much as normal, and seeing most passengers in masks when indoors actually contributes to a more relaxed and assured atmosphere. Much better than having uninformed rumours and conjecture circulating, which can be as bad, if not worse than having a virus circulating. The sun is shining, we are having a heatwave, a tropical heatwave, the temperature is rising, it isn’t surprising and Odyssey certainly can Can-Can. It must be around 30 C, we are surrounded by brilliant blue sea and sky and cumulus clouds, though Odyssey seems to navigating between rather than beneath them. I am sitting in a shady nook by the sky bar, sipping a cool Corona (beer, I hasten to add). People are sunning themselves by the pool or on the loungers, or relaxing in the shade. There is a very relaxed atmosphere, slightly subdued, unsurprisingly,as many (around a 100 I have been told) are leaving tomorrow. The same number will be embarking, so it will be another full complement for the next leg. It will be interesting to see how the demographic changes. I suspect that many of the very elderly Ausssies will leave us. When we booked this I thought it was a sort of mini-grand voyage, and was not aware the Pacific repositioning was also being marketed as three two week segments and a final 11 day cruise from Honolulu to Vancouver. We booked in the belief that departing in March and disembarking six weeks later we would avoid the dreaded Easter School holiday brigade. Bad enough having Covid running around, but spotty teenagers?

Thank you for your kind words. I’m not a novelist - I enjoy trying to put a few descriptive paragraphs together, but the whole business of devising a plot and, as Raymond Chandler said, getting a character into and out of a room, is beyond me. Mind you Chandler’s plots were often convoluted, almost byzantine, and it is in his acerbic wit, descriptions of L.A. In the 1940s and character studies where his genius lies. Monday 3rd April, 11.15 am, at sea. An investigative stroll past all the deck 5 suites reveals only two ottomans, disconcertingly close to our suite, but not next door. The vast majority of passengers are now sporting masks indoors. Sometimes people forget, sometimes they are just dashing from one maskless zone to another. Clocks went forward one hour last night. The Ad hoc ribs were splendid, we ate and drunk with great gusto and woke late, missed breakfast and are reverting to type. I will add more, but my battery is now at 10% and I must prepare myself for one final round of trivia for this leg. Many will depart tomorrow in Fiji.

Sunday 2nd April, 15.00. An ‘epicurean event’ , the Odyssey Food Festival, took place poolside and in the Colonnade today over lunchtime. I think it was a slimmed down version of the galley lunch, which presumably cannot take place because of the C19 situation. When I say slimmed down, I am speaking metaphorically, it was, of course a spectacular spread, though at noon the sun was so intense it drove us inside to the Colonnade which was largely devoted to desserts, cakes and puddings, baked Alaska, a profiterole mountain and other delights. It worked better for us than the galley lunch, I don’t know if it was the heat, the much larger area, or the lack of expectation because of the absence of the words ‘galley lunch’, but it proved to be much less of a feeding frenzy and an altogether more enjoyable experience. Just before noon the Captain announced, among other things, that those quarantined were comfortable and doing well, and advised all passengers to continue wearing masks indoors if at all possible. I notice the suite directly opposite ours has an ottoman outside, with two tied blue plastic bags containing plates etc. I was just chatting to the guests therein less than 24 hours ago. A tells me that she was doing yoga with the lady of the suite yesterday at tea-time, she was right next to her….. I immediately feel as if I am about to collapse with every documented Covid symptom. A feels fine. She has just had a facial, so feeling fine is to be hoped for if not expected. The ocean is like a mill-pond just now, the sea a pale azure that merges almost imperceptibly with the sky at the far horizon. No wonder Magellan named it Mar Pacifico - the peaceful sea. We have left the boobies and petrels far behind, but now scores of flying fish freely zip and skim away from our advance, free of flying predators. We passed closely by an active volcano at around 11.00 am but I missed it, probably because I was writing this blasted journal. Because of its vastness, it seems to be an empty sea, with nary another vessel to be seen. At night I miss the twinkling lights of fishing boats and sea gypsies that dot the seas of SE Asia. But as I write I can see a solitary trawler at the edge of the horizon. Back to the Colonnade tonight for Ad Hoc night with hickory smoked bbq ribs. It is formal night, so we will dress to the nines, or seven point fives in my case, although we don’t have to.

Sunday, 2nd April, 11.15 am. At sea again for two days, crossing the Pacific on our way to Fiji. A heavy mist descended around us as we sailed away from Lifou in the late afternoon, the air thick with heat and humidity. After dinner we sit out on deck with a drink or two, enjoying the cooling breeze, the sound of the sea, the waxing moon, the stars, the occasional company of charming, softly-spoken fellow passengers and inebriates. I usually have cognac after dinner, but have made two, new to me, discoveries: Appleton Estate 8 year Rum, and B & B on the rocks. There is no light pollution out here and the stars spread out across the immense, black, night sky are astonishing in their unfamiliar southern hemisphere constellations.

Yes, of course gazpacho is Spanish. My sun-addled brain conflating all things Mediterranean.

Oh yes, almost forgot. Posters around atrium stairs notifying that the ship’s cat has gone missing.🙀

Saturday 1st April, 16.30 pm. Well, everyone appears to be putting on a brave face, as far as one can tell. The cruise so far, or this leg of it, has been going splendidly, and there is a sense that everyone is determined that we should keep calm and carry on. The crew, in every aspect, have been doing their level best to make us feel valued, important, pampered and at ease. The weather has been splendid, fellow passengers mostly convivial. The few things that have needed fixing have been fixed quickly. Yes there have been cost savings and supply issues: there is not quite the same extravagant largesse as in precovid days but the food has been mostly good and the treats keep coming. We all hope this outbreak will be nipped in the bud. Lifou has been lovely. Glorious sunshine and a few soothing clouds. A short tender ride, a fabulous beach just minutes from the jetty. Long warm shallows of clear water and live corals within easy snorkelling distance, playing host to various fish of different stripe and hue, a small and modest visitor centre with a few stalls (we bought a sarong and a small shell bracelet), drinks, snacks, interesting places to walk to. I discussed the gazpacho earlier, but let me now turn to the TK Eggplant Parmesan. I have never had the slightest inclination to try this before, but as we were going Italian with the gazpacho, and as this very dish is one of MY signature dishes, perfected over many years, I thought I might investigate. Sadly I must report that I was not impressed. It was beautifully presented, with lashings of grated Parmesan, but bland, unadventurous, pedestrian. A microwaveable ready meal version from Aldi could probably give it a run for its money. Not a patch on mine. Back to the MDR tonight, where we will be going for the Quick Griddled Calamari & Green Shell Mussels. Not a dish I recall seeing before.

Friday, 31st of March, 15.45. We sailed into Noumea harbour at around 07.00 this morning, docking at 08.00. After three days at sea the long south westerly coast of Grande Terre, with its verdant, green-clad undulating hills looked like a gigantic dragon, beached and half-drowned on an unknown reef. Soon the illusion gave way to a distant view of the harbour, modern buildings, cranes, the tall pine trees, small yachts and sailing vessels dotted about the shimmering sheltered water. In the harbour lay Carnival Splenderosa, or Frootiloopa, or something like that, docked, only till 12 noon, at the cargo loading quay, while Odyssey took pride of place at the cruise terminal. One steps out of the small terminal, a tidy modern building with just a hint of French chic, straight onto one of the main streets, busy, very busy with traffic. The town is a typical port town, with supermarkets, some dubious looking ‘duty free’ shops, shopping malls and the like. Everyone speaks French and most pretend not to speak English. I spent rather longer than desired in the late morning heat, already hitting the 30s, looking for a post office where I could buy stamps and post cards. The locals when asked for directions, shrugged and waved vaguely in one direction or another. Mission was eventually accomplished ina small newsagents. In the supermarket I found two of the FB team choosing some hopefully decent French wines to supplement Odyssey’s stock, and in the course of trudging around found a lovely upmarket perfumery, where they use only locally produced essential oils and natural ingredients.Bought some sandalwood cologne. Back on board by 13.00 for a spot of lunch in the Colonnade, lovely fresh cool salads, lovely fresh cool air con, lovely fresh cool sparkling water, lovely views across the harbour (if you look in the right direction). It is hot, humid, sticky, busy town, but well kempt in that French way. absolutely no need to leave the ship, if you find yourself here, unless you want to buy wine, or stamps or cologne. I am sitting by the sky bar, waiting for A to finish her yoga class and join me for sailaway. In the middle distance, beyond the confines of the town, the now dark hills and small mountains are are draped with thickening grey clouds. Out to sea the light is still bright, iridescent, the clouds lighter and whiter. Last night was chef’s dinner, no formal dress code announced but most chose to dress smartly, lots of jackets and evening gowns, but a few in crumpled untucked shirts or dowdy dresses. Though few they rather stood out, like one or two flea-bites on a pale and otherwise elegant arm. The best bit of the menu was the strawberry sorbet and champagne. TKG again tonight. Did I mention the menu no longer features the strip loin, or sirloin, steak, nor the giant gulf shrimp cocktail? But tonight there is something new (to us at any rate): gazpacho soup. A makes a mean gazpacho at home. We shall see how well Keller stacks up.

Further reports on food and dress. Colonnade again last night, as we enjoyed sitting outside, and E&O’s menu did not appeal. No problems with service or food quality. We also ate there a few nights ago on Thai night. We know from previous experience it can be a bit of a gamble, particularly if one is familiar with authentic Thai cooking, but it was surprisingly good with a decent chilli hit from the Tom Yam soup and green curry. The venue was packed, but the service was absolutely on top of the game, with extra staff drafted in from downstairs, everyone working as a team to keep the plates and wine flowing, even Martin, our FB manager and other officers in their smart black uniforms, gold stripes glimmering in the candlelight, coming to lend a hand with waiting tables and serving dishes. There are some on first contracts; our sommelier, a tall blonde from Brazil, is already exceptional. A second deck party last night, with (sorry Markham) special drinks, tasty morsels, waiters offering cocktails, many officers joining in the dancing and general merriment. A hangover this morning, missed breakfast, and a trouncing at trivia, followed by caviar in the pool. We gave this a bye, as we prefer our caviar on a plate. Many people continue to ‘dress up’ in the evening, not just in the MDR, but around and about. Not necessarily formal gowns and tuxes, but with flair and style, a bit of bling and generally a dash of elan.

Thursday , 30th of March, 11.00am We are still upon the Coral Sea, with no sight of land, another day and night before we find harbour in Noumea. there are more, heavier, clouds, spread across the vastness of the sky, and the air thick with moisture and sometimes drops of rain. The breeze is cooler as we head southwards and eastwards. Yesterday a great flock of boobies, some two dozen or more, gathered above the bow, and flew there with the ship, swooping down to catch and feed on flying fish disturbed by our progress through their domain. It was a joy to see, but every joy has a price: last night the panoramic windows of the observation bar were covered in….well…..guano, for want of a better word. Those who find the Observation Bar to be a tad elitist may be cheered by the potential symbolism, but I just feel sorry for the deck crew.

Wednesday, 29th of March, 7.50 am. I am sitting on our balcony, with just a tall skinny latte and a couple of boobies, flying alongside, for company. The early morning sunlight splashes their feathers with patches of gold as they outrace the ship. We are on deck 5 (my favourite), low and close to the sea, so the boobies fly past at eye level. Here comes another one, now soaring up above Odyssey, it’s upper body, bathed in sunlight, a dazzling white, shaded underbelly pale grey. The sky, and it is a big sky, is that wonderful bright sky-blue, fading slowly to palest white at the far horizon where it meets a sudden and deep aquamarine sea. The sea, itself is calm and I am caressed by the soft and silky cool breeze. A small, yellow-beaked, black-tailed gull lands amid the lazy waves and dwindles to a tiny white speck as we sail past. La Farge wrote about, was enchanted and entranced with, the quality of light out here, and it is indeed quite wonderful, matched only perhaps by the light in the Western Isles of Scotland. I have taken to rising between 5.00 and 6.00 most mornings, stepping out to deck 8, where I entertain myself with 15 lengths of the empty pool and a 12 minute session of Canadian Air Force exercises. This is unprecedented behaviour, normally we rise too late for breakfast, make do with a coffee and yoghurt from the square and arrive at the dot of 12.00 for lunch. At first this new regime was the consequence of jet-lag, which clung on for days, and circumstance, as I chose to go to the gym to do the exercises, but found it already full of people at 6.00 am, working out in expensive leotards; now it has become habit. The pool deck is usually empty, save for crew members putting out towels and setting tables, and a few early morning walkers doing the sky bar circuit. The water in the pool is cold, but invigorating at that hour of the morning. Today we are sailing into the sunrise, and the sun soon bathes the pool with light and warms the water. Last night we were at Ad Hoc night again (Waldorf salad, ribeye, with blistered asparagus and mash). Perhaps it is a consequence of the new intake of crew, but the service was not quite as alacritous as of late, the steak luke warm. But the blue cheese dressing was marvellous and the Brie with honey and toast delightful and paired beautifully with a rather good 2020 Californian Cabernet house pour. Apparently, according to the Colonnade md, North Americans like their food Luke warm whereas South Africans, such as he, and us Brits, prefer it piping hot. It is not an issue (yet….), and actually, to sit outside at the Colonnade, in pleasantly humid warmth, a bright half moon illuminating the low clouds and reflecting off the ocean, while thousands of stars are strewn and scattered across the black night, and be served some delicious concoctions, all make make such minor inconsistencies fade to insignificance.

Ahhhh……Indonesia…….. nice pics, sharko, full of the essence of the place.

Thanks! Good to know. some things we take away from our Australian week: all the Aussies we have met, both on land and on board have been informal and relaxed in manner, but polite, thoughtful, considerate, open and utterly friendly. Everybody seems ready to stop and chat, extend that chat into a conversation if things are going that way, and just give out a good vibe; everything is expensive. Now we are surrounded by endless shades of blue and white, boobies racing alongside, the ship, or swooping down for fish in the turbulence of the wake.

Yes, we love Bevlyn. We tend to not go to the Observation Bar, but will frequent it more now. We chose the set off from Sydney because it was a chance to get to know this part of Australia a little better and to revisit a few places we had enjoyed four years ago, sailing to Sydney from Papua. Moreton Island. - the third largest sand island in the world- we tendered to the Tangalooma Bay, a pleasant and relaxed kind of mass marketish beachside resort. Quite a few people went to snorkel the wrecks, but we took a glass bottomed boat trip, as A was worried about the sometimes strong currents there. The boat meandered around slowly, but in fact we saw more fish from the jetty. It was all very easy going and we learned a new Aussie expression ‘have a good arvo’ which means have a good afternoon. Unfortunately I misremembered and have been going around wishing folks a ‘good Avro’, which has a evoked a few puzzled looks. Airlie Beach, on the other hand was one of those excursions from hell. Odyssey dropped anchor some distance from land, and with the moderate swell it meant that the tender took 30 - 40 minutes to reach the pier. The ship anchored at around 10.00am, so there was a long queue. We were told to wait somewhere else for half an hour. There were 85 people on the tender when we eventually set off. We had planned to go to the Saturday market, but finally got ashore at around 12.30 and the market closed at 13.00. There was a loooong walk from the pier to the markets and beach area in blazing sunshine and no shade, a somewhat discouraging beach with just a few dogs paddling in the water, and a loooooong walk back to the tender in more blazing sunshine, and then a looooong ride back in another crammed tender. It was such a pleasure to get back to the ship that it almost made the previous trials worthwhile. Townsville we just browsed around the great little stalls in the terminal building (there were free shuttle busses into town),:and in the afternoon A went to a Nature encounter and met some crocodiles and a bearded dragon. In Cairns it was in the mid 30s C. Too darn hot, but we went to the Art gallery, which has a really good souvenir shop, and happened to have an exhibition of Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein prints, and then we bought a couple of small - very small - canvasses of Aboriginal art in another great, private, gallery.

We sailed out of Cairns at twilight after a long days refuelling and taking on of supplies. Chef Bert departed, to be replaced by Chef Erik, who will be with us for the duration. Dozens of new crew arrived throughout the day, after long and gruelling flights. Bevlyn, barkeep at the Club has been relocated to the Observation bar. Vita flew in to replace her. This last week, sailing up the east coast of Australia, has been but a prelude to the main attraction of this journey, heading out across the mighty Pacific. Three days at sea now crossing the Coral Sea to New Caledonia.

Peace, brother.

No, not seriously at all. I wasn’t being serious. There’s a style of writing that uses irony and satire, presenting an exaggerated and in fact self-deprecatory viewpoint through which the writer is in fact mocking the very attitudes he or she appears to espouse.It is a literary device that P.G.Wodehouse used to great effect. Clearly my attempt was inept. I think the gentleman in question was in fact coming from the Gym. I have to say that I found your post unnecessarily confrontational and quite upsetting; I have put you on ignore.

Glad to see that your menu is entirely different from our Odyssey menu tonight😋

Goodness me, this thread seems to have opened a can of, if not worms, then beans. No… that’s hill of beans… perhaps sweetcorn? Whatever, it has opened up something. Martin Klesner is the name of our marvellous F & B manager. I had imagined that this would be a sort of travelogue, without pictures, where I might indulge in some descriptive Conrad-esque doodlings of life on the high seas. But before telling you about Moreton Island and Arlie Beach (and if truth be told, there is not much to tell) perhaps I should offer a few observations about current issues. As I write I see BasandSyb have weighed in. I am so glad that their experience reflects our own (and I so despise predictive texting…. The number of times I had to rewrite BasandSyb before the wretched thing gave up correcting it; and Conrad-esque was mutilated into Conrad-sequel, and Airline Beach? Please.). Second night, formal night, glad to see many jackets, quite a few bow-ties and ties, a couple or three tuxes and folks on the whole making an effort. Though last night at TKG there were a couple of chaps in short sleeved shirts. Not well ironed, rather dull colours and indifferent cut. And the occasional scruff-pot does stroll in to the MDR. Last night at 10 past six I came across a gentleman wandering down the corridor in t-shirt and shorts! At 10 past six. I adopted a perplexed look and glanced meaningfully at my watch, while he looked up, smiled, and graciously said “ Hi, good evening”. I guess some people don’t feel the need to change before six, and I would on the whole prefer a pleasant greeting rather than seeing a shirt and slacks. Trouble is some people don’t seem to see the need to change clothing at all. For days at a time, judging by some encounters. The quality and variety of offerings at lunch in the Colonnade has been good. Very good. Pretty well right up to pre-covid standards. There may not be quite as many salads and options on the cold buffets as before, but what there is, is fresh, imaginative and beautifully presented. I have no idea what goes on in the MDR, as we never do lunch there, but I will go and investigate. The other day, to test a theory, I asked one of the breakfast waiters for marmalade. A flicker of anxiety crossed his face but he recovered well and brought me a small dish of strawberry jam. Not really a calamity that warranted tearing out hair and rending garments. The next day I asked Martin if there is marmalade. There is, along with fellow jams of various persuasions and honey. They all reside in bowls at the far side of the breads/ rolls/toasts counter. Another officer told me that all Seabourn stocks of small glass pots of jams and honeys were sold off during lockdown, and the decision taken not to replace them, but nonetheless CONFITURE IS STILL AVAILABLE. I suspect I am beginning to ramble. Probaly too much sun. Time for a coffee to help focus the mind.

Correct! It’s a term someone coined in another recent thread- quite apt and useful I thought.

Well now, here is a thing.Your Restaurant menu of 15 hours ago looks exactly the same as our Odyssey Restaurant menu for tonight. Bet you there was also Lemongrass Pottage etc etc sigh……another illusion shattered. I hope our Chef’s special is different from yours: Fresh pasta melanzane. The heavy hand of corporate conformity dulls spontaneity and invention.

Alas poor Markham! It is indeed shocking to read such a negative view from you, instead of your enjoyable and positive posts. Well your post is still enjoyable to read though the news it communicates is not. My current posts should be put in context: we are happy just to be on a Seabourn O class ship after four and a half years. We are happy to be sailing the vast Pacific in pleasant weather after a bitterly cold winter in Wales, with night time temps hitting -14C. We have only been on for four days, now the fifth morning so have yet to see recycling of menus and warmed up last night’s left overs for lunch. But the food is good so far, and varied. Salads in the Colonnade at lunch have been first class as have been the soups. Every evening in the Restaurant so far there has been a Chef’s special on the menu. There is beetroot, but not in an overwhelming quantity.The FB manager, whose name has slipped my mind (along with many other names, I must admit) is a young Czech, was recently FB manager on Venture and is leaving us in a couple of weeks to take up that post on Pursuit. We met him when he was a rising star in the lower ranks on Sojourn back in 2018. So I guess we are lucky to have a top man. Sorry to report that there were special drinks at the deck party. The pool side lunch barbecue was small scale and one guest was heard to complain bitterly that there was nothing on offer apart from sausages (not true, I saw chops, and chicken and small steaks). Meanwhile in the Colonnade at lunch there was a suckling pig, which I don’t recall seeing for a while in the the precovid days. In fact there were two suckling pigs, as the server had an accident and cut her finger quite deeply. The remnants of pig were removed as there was blood contamination and another rapidly brought from the galley. I don’t write all this to crow over Markham’s misery, but just to confirm that things vary from ship to ship and so much depends on the captain and key managers. Some are great, some not so.Of course we await the arrival of our replacement FB manager with some trepidation. However he is going to be on board for a week working in tandem with our current man, to ensure there is a seamless changeover. Ad Hoc fried chicken last night, all was good. And the service we have experienced from the wait staff has been outstanding. OUTSTANDING. So far. The only complaint we have right now concerns the quality of some of our fellow guests. We unfortunately have cupboard door slammers next door. Fingers crossed they are only on for two weeks! I spotted a Chog this morning, but only one, and there are the usual long faced haughty types, a few narcissists (I don’t mind witty, self aware narcissists with flair and style, but pompous, stuck up their own fundament types are another matter). On the tender back from Moreton Island, we saw a portly gentleman on a Penthouse suit balcony remove his presumably damp swimming trunks, revealing a rather substantial backside to all the world.

Proceeding at a stately pace to the Whitsundays there is a moderate but kind swell upon the sea, the fine weather continues. The little cut-backs: no longer three bars of soap but just one very pleasant Molton Brown, and as previously noted elsewhere shower gels and shampoos/body lotions are in larger dispensers, though the small tubes of conditioners and other pleasant smellies abound. Small jars of marmalade and jams are no longer put out on the tables at breakfast, however I suspect that if I were to ask for some, they would be provided. I will put this theory to the test one day and report back. The range of poured spirits is perhaps a little reduced, but still plenty of single malts, bourbons, gins, vodkas. There is cognac: Remy and Hennessy; we have Hennessy Vsop in our suite. Amargnac appears to be in short supply, however. But, really, who cares? the black plastic swizzle sticks have been replaced by wooden ones. Apart from that I can’t think of anything else to suggest that Seabourn is going downhill. Oh yes - no Cinzano. And the barkeep now uses measuring cups when pouring spirits, rather than just pouring by eye. Even so, my after dinner nightcap consisted of two double measure, so I have a hangover and must request restraint in future. OK, I didn’t have to drink it all, but sitting out aft on deck 7 last night, the lights Of Brisbane twinkling on the horizon, swathed a with near tropical warmth I was really enjoying it. Food seems very good to me, well up to previous standards with plenty of of variety. I enjoyed the Chef’s specials on previous nights (with local seafoods) and asked him what other surprises he had in store. “ A few more,” he replied, “not many, but there will be some”. So there are some Seattle imposed restraints in evidence, but the crew, from top to bottom are outstanding. tThere seems to be a determination among those on board to put Seabourn right back up there at the top of the rankings. The Restaurant is open for breakfast lunch and dinner, as is the Patio. The daily Herald is full of events and distractions. Deck barbecue for lunch today, dancing by the pool tonight. It really is great to be back and the only thing that irks is this blasted Source thing and having to fiddle about with one’s phone at all times of the day. Most passengers really can’t be bothered and don’t want to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into the 21st Century. And who can blame them. some don’t even have a mobile phone, despite their great monetary and life experience wealth. So it looks as if most people are having their Herald and daily menus delivered to their suites. So there is very little adverse news to report. and Trivia calls…

A got hold of the gym/fitness schedule, so I can report that there are Yoga/Pilates classes and stretch sessions and more every day at various times, some early morning around 7.00 And some early evening around 5.00 - 6.00. another Sea day and it feels as if we have broken through into another world. Blue skies and light clouds scattered like shredded cotton wool, heat, probably already 26+ C. I will try to report in some more detail later but am being summoned to breakfast. it is mostly very good and very much like the Seabourn we all know and love. There are some changes and cut backs, but to us, at least they are ,so far, trivial.

Robertmarth Bob, in today’s Herald (paper copy delivered to suite) there are various wellness seminars throughout the day. Yoga, restorative with Meditation is at 5.00pm, and an evening stretch session is on at 6.00pm. We are at Moreton Island. it is warm and sunny, with plenty of cloud cover. The patches of sunshine and blue sky are a welcome sight after a very grey and cool day at sea with enough motion at times to make very body stagger about like drunks.The gym/ fitness centre is open 6.00 am to 10.00 pm.