Saturday, September 29, 2012.
New England-Canada Cruise Journal, Day Nine: Morning In Quebec.
From the moment we left home nine days ago, it's been all blue skies, temperatures in the sixties and seventies, and light winds at sea. Even the expected chill in the air when we arrived in Quebec yesterday wasn't uncomfortable.
Our good climatological luck came to an end overnight, replaced by overcast skies and a misty drizzle. This was no problem for most of the Queen Mary 2's passengers. Although the ship spent the night in Quebec, we were set to depart at noon, with no more stops until we get back to New York, 1500 miles from here.
Some passengers took advantage of the morning in Quebec, despite the weather. Do I even need to say that the Marys were among them? Or that they didn't reboard the ship until a few minutes before the gangplank went up? Or that they didn't ask me to join them?
Sailing back down the gloriously colorful banks of the St. Lawrence River gave us a view of the impressive falls where the Montmorency River joins the St. Lawrence. They're thirty feet higher than (but not as wide as) Niagara Falls. I had no idea such a thing was there. But what American knows enough about Canada?
Mary Ann now gritted her teeth and prepared for three days at sea. She hates that part of cruising. Never enough to do, she says--although it seems to me that she stays busy enough. She's working out in the gym daily, usually accompanied by Mary Leigh, who has the bigger problem. There is simply nothing for young people on this particular sailing, with a particular lack of other young people.
On the other hand, I love days at sea. Not more than I do port days (as Mary Ann claims), but as much. They offer the greatest opportunities to do nothing. I rarely have time for nothing, or even semi-nothing, like a few walking laps around the entire ship on the promenade deck. And writing this stuff, of course.
The dinner menu in the Britannia dining room featured, for the second time this voyage, a fish I'd heard of but never eaten before. This one was barramundi, which if I am not mistaken is from Australia. The waitress said that it's related to dolphinfish (that's a mahi-mahi to you and me). As has been the case with all the fish I've been served on the QM2, it was overcooked, but tasted pretty good.
On cruise ships, you can get two entrees, and I often do. I treat the second one either as an appetizer or as a side dish. The vegetarian entrees in particular work well in this scheme. Today's example was fusilli pasta (corkscrews) with a basic red sauce made interesting by the addition of capers. Mary Leigh took a bite and liked it so much that the dish never returned to me.
We sat with some folks we hadn't dined with yet on this trip. Unfortunately, we got into politics. Fortunately, Mary Ann was gone from the table by that time. If she had been there, I would have sat there with my mouth shut, or run the risk of cold shoulder. At no time in my life do I recall the issues of the day less discussible than they are now. There's black and there's white, and that's it.
After dessert I departed for the warmer feelings of Mark Hodgson's first-class jazz. My nightly attendance at his sessions have caught his attention, and during a break he came over to say hello. He likes New Orleans, and is considering writing a book about Louis Armstrong's early years. (I gave him my cod.)
Mark had a weather commentary. The forecast tonight is for rougher waves than we have had thus far. "On one voyage not long ago we had force-twelve gales for two days straight," he said. "Waves were washing across the windows in here!" I don't think we will encounter anything like that.
Or will we?
