Blog 1. Passage to Australia. Funchal

The £10 Poms.

Jane had been quite ill throughout December, with considerable abdominal and chest pain that defied all medical tests and treatment.  Christmas and New Year were disasters and it was touch and go whether she would be able to make the voyage to Australia in QUEEN MARY 2 in early January of the next year.  However,  she eventually seemed to respond to antibiotic treatment and was passed as fit to proceed.  The details of the voyage and return were chronicled as a series of blogs sent by email to a select group of friends.  The saga begins…

Departure Day

Tuesday 10 January 2017. We left home at 0930 because the car hire firm wanted to allow for the (non existent) fog and traffic, and this resulted in us arriving at the terminal in Southampton an hour early. However, this did not prove to be a problem. Our luggage was taken from us by a porter and we were soon checked in as priority Princess Grill rich people. At 1200 we were through the airport-style Security (belts off, trousers down, shoes off – these sailors!) and straight onboard to our cabin on 10 Deck, which was ready. Wow! A room somewhat larger than the broom cupboard that I had in HMS NONSUCH, with walk-in wardrobe, ensuite bathroom, king size bed to lose Jane in, settee, and large private balcony. On the coffee table was a bottle of sparkling wine on ice, with a selection of chocolates. Of course, as The Sick Person, Jane could not have any of these and so I had to live up to the family tradition alone: a tough job, but someone has to do it. Jane availed herself of the Pillow Concierge service to select a suitable pillow for the voyage (we all get our thrills in different ways). You will be pleased to know that the cabin was warm and quiet, and Mrs Shacklepin pronounced it acceptable.

Our luggage was delivered to our cabin in dribs and drabs and, after we had unpacked, we set off to explore.  It was surprisingly easy to find our way around and the ship proved to be huge and luxurious.  A fair number of old people of course: the halt and the lame, all of whom will be trodden underfoot at Abandon Ship time, but some ordinary folk too though I was disappointed to report that some wore no ties.  Lunch in the Princess Grill was most pleasant, with the portions just right, nothing too fancy and very smart, friendly and professional staff.  Jane appears to be getting better as she ate most of her single course; purely for research purposes, I felt bound to try all three courses.

We finally sailed “at about 1800” (in practice, it was 1812 – that would never do in the Service) and we headed south down Southampton Water to the sound of fireworks.  We watched the beginning   from the upper deck, but soon retired to our cabin as it was freezing.  After dinner, we turned in early, as it had been an exhausting day (all that chocolate and wine) and slept like logs.

Day 2

Wednesday 11 January 2017 dawned as a grey day, wind force 8 from the NW, 12ºC, a moderate sea and the ship corkscrewing slightly in the swell. Position, roughly off Ushant – the northern tip of the Bay of Biscay. We engaged in a bit of exploring, attended a lecture on Madeira (aimed at selling paid-for tours) and dressed up in Black Tie for the Captain’s cocktail party at 1830. What a nice chap! We also met some very pleasant people. Of course, after the champagne (for me, at least) we were away: wine with dinner (“…whatever you recommend sommelier” – $20 + 15% a large glass, I later discovered) then on to a show doing Moody Blues and Hollies music to satisfy Jane’s teeny bopper inclinations. Actually, the group was very good and some had really been part of the Moody Blues; even I enjoyed it. Afterwards (we are into the dizzy heights of 2045 by now) I was ready for the disco, but better counsel won the day and we retired to our cabin for cocoa and petit fours. The excitement had been too much.

I think the cocktail party and show were the turning points at the beginning of this voyage.  Up until then Jane had still been a bit “iffy” in her health and I had been expecting a damage control or fire exercise at any moment.  From this point onwards we started to really relax and realised that,  on each day, we could do anything – or absolutely nothing. No, not even a practice Action Stations or Machinery Breakdown Drill was planned.  Jane continued to improve in health and may be on to alcohol and normal food soon.

Day 3

Thursday 12 January 2017. We completed the transit of the Bay of Biscay overnight and dawn on Thursday 12 January found us more or less off Cape Finisterre (top end of Spain), sea Slight, air temperature 13ºC. We treated ourselves to breakfast in our cabin at 0830, which Jane took in bed. Conscious of this slovenly behaviour, I persuaded her to take a stroll on the uppermost deck afterwards, but this lasted (for her) precisely eight seconds after her frail form was practically blown away. She retired to the exclusive Grills Lounge (nice class of person, people who have graduated to cutlery) to read a book while I undertook an inspection of the halliards, satellite domes and lifeboat davits. There is an internal viewing area behind the bridge where you can watch the Officer of the Watch at work; I found him sitting in the Captain’s chair and loafing with his feet up: very poor – he should be up and about, pacing the deck, alert for icebergs and other hazards. This wouldn’t do for the RN – I would have kicked his backside. I finally managed to drag Jane out of the lounge for a bracing walk around the Promenade Deck, where we completed six laps (about two miles) along with a mass of other people. These walks seem very popular, and they reminded me of a prison exercise yard; just to be different, we walked clockwise around the deck while the Mass of Humanity went anti-clockwise, and this caused some chaos and confusion. I have always found it important to make a mark on one’s fellow shipmates at an early stage by bucking the system. I may have succeeded.

Ballroom Dancing for beginners was threatened for 1215 and I was ready to give it a go.  However, we found the ballroom packed out with old people, some of whom were not even wearing Oxfords or strapped sandals.  There really were too many people to make the exercise viable and so Jane and I slunk out quietly, her muttering because she had taken the trouble to wear a skirt and high heels for the exercise, and me relieved.

Of course, all that exercise (or rather, thinking about it) has its drawbacks and, despite the hefty breakfast, I felt bound to try an aperitif before lunch (which we weren’t going to have): G+T for me, ginger beer for J.  Then, perhaps, a Pinot Grigio with lunch?.  Of course, we won’t make a habit of such indulgence; this was purely to assist the relaxation process.  The food portions in the Grill are just right by the way: quite small, but beautifully presented and generally good. Jane undertook a practical exercise in naval architecture after lunch by counting the rivets in the deckhead of our cabin, then we attended a lecture on ‘humour in medicine’, given by a pathologist.  I suppose if you are a pathologist then there is only one direction that you can go in in terms of human mood.  He was actually very good.

Day 4

It was Friday 13th that the weather finally started showing signs of warming up, so that we could walk round the deck without a sou’wester and a fleece: we were off Cape St Vincent and the temperature was 17ºC.  Still not much, if any, sun but we must be getting there as Jane removed her cardigan briefly today.  Jane was persuaded by a special offer to have a full body massage involving hot rocks.  I said I would do it for nothing, but received an old fashioned look by return.  As it turns out, it proved extremely beneficial for Jane in her present state and she came out like a new woman (well she was covered in oil).  While this extravaganza was going on I attended a lecture by an ex airline captain about what it is like flying a 747 from Heathrow to JFK in New York; he was absolutely brilliant – a very accomplished and fluent speaker, who had already given two talks on the history of navigation, which I had missed though I caught one of them on ‘catch up’ on the television.  More of the Moody Blues, with dancing in the aisles and waving of iPhones by ancient pensioners in the afternoon, then off to a film before changing for dinner. 

We arrive in Funchal tomorrow, so I will try to fire this off then if I find free WiFi ashore.  I am taking Jane on a standard Naval run-ashore, though we will avoid the usual pattern of touring the dockside bars, having a few beers, losing our Burberries and losing our ID cards.  We are only there a day, so there is time yet.  Next leg is to Tenerife, then Walvis Bay in Namibia.

13 January 2017