Traveling
from Singapore to Malaysia, we sailed through the Malacca Strait, which
separates Indonesia and Malaysia. At its narrowest point, it’s only about 20
miles wide and is like a super highway for tankers, cargo vessels, and other
ships. We sailed along with a steady stream of vessels that stretched as far as
we could see in all directions; it was almost like being in a convoy. The
strait is one of the most heavily traveled shipping lanes in the world, and the
level of air pollution showed it. We had less than a mile of visibility, and
the air smelled smoky.
The
strait is an area notorious for piracy. The promenade deck was blocked in the
back of the ship so passengers couldn’t walk completely around the deck. I
heard some new passengers wondering why it wasn’t opened. I suspected it was
because of security concerns, and when I asked one of the security officers who
walked by if that was the case, he confirmed it. They have fire hoses at the
back of the ship, which they can direct at small boats that come too close to
the ship or act aggressively.
At
three different times during the day we saw a small fast-moving boat sail
directly toward the center of the ship and then veer away just yards from the
ship. Compared to the size of the Queen Elizabeth, the three-person boat looked
like a nat. Yes, they got close enough that we could see how many people were
on it. They were either just curious or trying to annoy the ship’s crew. More
than likely it was the latter. We heard that the security crew would be keeping
watch at the back of the ship all night. That news made me sleep better. But it
also prompted us to lock our balcony door—just in case…
As
we drew closer to the equator, the seas became extremely calm and the air
heavy. We seemed to have entered the
Doldrums again. The polluted air and limited visibility made the ship feel really
closed in.
On
the next sea day, the water remained so calm it resembled rippling blue satin.
Someone reported seeing a pod of dolphins, which we sadly missed. It’s been
disappointing not seeing much sea life. If I spent less time staring at my
laptop screen and more time looking at the sea, I might have seen more.
I
love sea days and when it’s too hot to sit on the promenade deck, I find a
comfortable sofa in the Commodore Club lounge and spend a few hours there working
on my blog. The lounge is high at the front of the ship and provides a 180-degree
view of the sea. Usually it is very quiet, but somewhere in our travels, we
picked up a stowaway—a chirping cricket, who really wanted to make his presence
known. If nothing else, the cricket showed good taste picking the Queen
Elizabeth for a ride. After awhile, I wished he would find another place on the
ship to visit.
Commodore
Club Lounge
Sea
days bring out the sunbathers in mass. The Lido Deck was filled with people
intent on grilling themselves equally on both sides. Seeing the number of
people who had been badly sunburned made us cringe. John said Englishmen don’t
feel they’ve had a good holiday unless they return home with sunburn. If that’s
the case, a lot of people will be going home happy.
Sunbathers
on Lido Deck
Sea
days also provide time for fun on the decks. On one occasion, the crew formed
teams and held competitions on the Lido Deck. The passengers came out in mass
to cheer on their favorite teams. The games consisted of things like egg races,
bag races, and other creative games. The day was extremely hot with intense
sunshine, so we had to give the competitors lots of credit for joining in the
games.
Early
one morning I went up on deck before it got too hot and watched the deck stewards
going through their morning ritual of putting out lounge chairs along with
towels they neatly rolled and placed on each chair. I asked one of them how
many they put out. One steward said at last count it was about 160 lounge
chairs, and that was just on the Lido Deck. Later in the evening, they pick up
baskets of used towels and stack all the chairs again, cover them with tarps,
and tie them down. The same thing goes on around all the outside decks. As a
passenger, it is easy to be unaware of how much effort goes into all of the
comforts we are provided.
Most
of the crew are very friendly and appreciate it when you talk to them or
mention something that you liked or notice what they do. They will talk about
their homes and families, and they remember you. We’ve been on the ship for months
now, and we get greetings and waves from some of the crew that we’ve chatted
with. Of course, there are always those crew members who aren’t as friendly,
and I’ve decided not to take it personally but imagine that they might have
family concerns, don’t feel well, been overworked, etc., which often might be
the case. It can’t be easy for them being away from their families for months
at a time. But some of them are probably sick of dealing with some of the truly
awful passengers they deal with. More about them in another blog.
The Sports Deck is fantastic and spacious. During
the day numerous sporting competitions are held but usually at the hottest,
sunniest times of the day. Too hot for us.
Late
in the afternoon after most people on early seating for dinner have gone to get
ready, John and I will frequently play shuffleboard and paddle tennis, or just
walk on the deck. The sun is less intense and the ship quieter. Since the
sports deck is at the very front top deck, the wind can be fierce and you feel
as though you are playing paddle tennis in a wind tunnel, but it’s cooler. We’re
frequently the only ones there.
Paddle
Board Court
Bowls
Court
Finding
quiet spots on the ship when most passengers have returned to their cabins to
dress for dinner is one of the advantages of being on late seating for dinner.
It outweighs the disadvantage of eating at 8:30 p.m.
Speaking
of which, it’s time for another meal. Fortunately, after three months on the
ship, we can still fit into our clothing.
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