New Queen Mary 2 gets her sea legs

0 Comments | Deseret News (Salt Lake City), Mar 14, 2004 | by Daphne Schwab New York Times News Service

SATURDAY, JAN. 17: The people of Palma chant what I believe is "Dio Mio" as the QM2 pulls up alongside the pier. We get set to head straight for the Kings Court when my husband asks if I've seen his watch. His wedding band was on it -- he took them off before his weightlifting session at the gym last night. When we have sufficiently torn apart the room, I page Nora, who calmly asks if we have checked all our pockets. Yes, four times at least. She reports the loss and schedules a meeting with the head security officer for this evening.

We head into town and spend an hour in the old part of the city and return in time for a bridge tour guided by Jeremy, the boyish third officer who explains how he can maneuver the ship with one small joystick. As darkness falls and fireworks light the sky, security officers arrive to search our room and "interrogate our doorlock" with a reader that can tell whose cards have been used to enter the room. The security officer emerges from our closet with the watch and ring; they were in my husband's pants pocket after all. We apologize and thank the officers profusely. I get the feeling that they've been through this before.

SUNDAY, JAN. 18: Today marks our first full day of four at sea for our ocean crossing. At the Kings Court for breakfast we get the best sense of the general population on board. Most are 60-plus; we 30- somethings are definitely in the minority. At breakfast we are seated adjacent to a table of our relative contemporaries -- two American men and a Swiss couple. They commiserate about the poor food in the Britannia (the largest restaurant, serving some 1,600 passengers), a complaint I have heard elsewhere on board.

MONDAY, JAN. 19: My cousin and I walk briskly around the Promenade Deck in the bright sun. Quite a few fit people roughly double our age breeze past us. In his noontime daily update Commodore Warwick assures us of good weather in the coming days and says the closest land is 17,000 feet below us on the ocean's floor. The afternoon begins on the top deck complete with "virtual golf" (standing in a mesh cage whacking golf balls at the wall).

TUESDAY, JAN. 20: As far as the eye can see there is nothing but azure water, a perfect setting for a glorious day of nothing. I chuckle thinking back to the first days of the trip and my desire to attend every lecture and participate in every event. The truth is that this is the best of it -- cutting through two-mile-deep ocean where our closest neighbors are a school of flying fish. I spend most of today buried in a book. The hot sun shines on the port deck where rows of passengers laze in teak lounge chairs outfitted with handsome green cushions. Because this boat is so large it has been easy for everyone to find a nook, and while I have been aware of the 2,000- plus other passengers, I have not felt constricted by them.

WEDNESDAY, JAN. 21: On the top deck, four elderly British gentlemen engage in an intense table-tennis tournament while others challenge each other in paddle tennis and basketball. My husband tests one of the plunge pools (none of the several pools on board is really big enough for lap swimming) and my cousin samples the Regatta Bar's pina colada. We eat lunch in the Kings Court, which feels like a food court in a mall, but it is the most efficient choice. Everyone's priority is soaking up sun.