"There are eight million stories on a Cruise Ship and this has been one of them”.
The penultimate day for us on the Regent Seven Seas Navigator, was a Sea Day and it being the weekend, it also happened to be… Wait for it… Caviar Sunday!
My favorite sort of Sunday.
Another Regent tradition on a ship that seems rife with traditions, here every Sunday on board, is "a boots an' all" extravaganza... I had eight helpings at breakfast alone. Is that wrong? On Cunard, the Caviar is dealt out by delicate, careful and respectfully gloved hands and usually in front of an armed guard, in case we get greedy. Here on Regent, it is left on its own servery with a large ivory spoon to help yourself - and we did, all day. So, although Regent is a more contemporary line than the one I am used to, it is nice to see that there are still some maritime standards being upheld somewhere at sea.
Also and luckily for me, Mother can't stand the stuff so I had her share as well.
The last day at sea is always a bit of an anticlimax. Amongst packing, there are farewells with new friends you have just made and will probably never see again, last minute drinks to have in rooms on the ship that you had not yet had the chance to sit in and finally that last meal also taking advantage of the fact that Regent is "all inclusive", therefore no bar tab or hidden little extras to be a surprise on that last night. So, before you know it, it is time to finish packing and to consider the next day's travel arrangements.
Then, after getting up at the crack of dawn to watch our entry into Port Melbourne and for Mother’s last Butler-served breakfast, for a while at least, we were sitting in our suite ready for the mandatory 7.30 departure time, when at 7.25 am, Mother asks “Where is the TV remote?”
I distinctly remember holding the remote as I fell asleep. It’s a ship so as soon as my head hits the pillow, l’m into a deep sleep. I do remember though, in my sleep,turning off the TV, but still holding onto the remote. Alas this morning, she is right, it is nowhere to be seen.
I pulled the bed out, I pulled all the furniture out, I told Mother to go back into the bathroom and leave me alone while I looked. I pulled out the couch, I pulled out the fridge, no sign of it. Mother kept saying “Don't worry”, “No,” said I, “They will think we stole it and I will not be accused of stealing anything less than a Bentley”.
I told her to hide in the dressing room out of my way, while I looked. I pulled back the curtains, I pulled up my mattress and turned over the bed. Nothing. I thought of ringing security in case they had a serial technology burglar on board, but then I thought I would try mother’s bed on the other side of the room. I pulled off her sheets, her duvet, I looked in her pillow cases, I turned her bed on its side...VOILA. The remote, on the other side of the room on the furthest point away from me...and of course it had to be the Mother side I blame Mother. It must have been her. That is what Mothers are.
Mother emerged from the dressing room. I had redressed the room.
"Where’s my watch?" she demanded. "It was here before you turned the room upside down."
Mother hid in the dressing room…while…
I turned her bed upside down, I pulled the furniture out, I looked in her pillow cases, I turned the couch arse-side up, nothing, no watch, nadda, no-where, no-how. Ah well, it was only her old Cartier. She could buy another. We are in Melbourne after all.
Mother re-emerged from the dressing room. "Are you sure you're not wearing it?" I asked.
"Oh, of course I am”...she said, looking guiltily at her wrist. (As if there was any doubt!)
There are eight million stories on a Cruise Ship and this has been one of them.