Ambience Day 11 - Southbound along the Norwegian Coast

“To stand at the edge of the sea is to have knowledge of eternity.”

Rachel Carson, The Sense of Wonder

 

Quiet Moments in Between

 
With Alta behind us, Ambience turned south.  Our eleventh day on board is a sea day, which we are both grateful for as it is nice to have some time where we aren’t off to hike, watch birds or explore a new port during which we can just rest.  The recent run of port days, including Tromsø, Trondheim, and Alta, coupled with long hours of bird watching, the excitement of spotting so many whales and long nights filled with amazing displays of Northern Lights mean that a quieter day is most welcome.

 
Not every day at sea is filled with whales, northern lights, or grand historic cathedrals rising from the shoreline. Some days are about logistics - laundry done, notes caught up, cameras cleaned.  Some days are just about resting ourselves, and sometimes are about nothing more complicated than sitting back with a cold pint in hand and watching the water and waves slide past.

 
Not every day need be dramatic, and recognizing such is not a failing of the journey. Sea days, by their nature, are lighter and calmer: time spent watching the horizon, attending enrichment lectures, listening to live music, and allowing the rhythm of the waves and ship to set the pace. These quieter days are about the simple pleasure of being underway.

Sea days in their simplicity are wonderfully relaxing.  
 

Sea Days

While we love sea days, it was clear that not everyone shared that view. More than once, we heard the familiar refrain that “sea days are boring.” A comment usually delivered with a kind of resignation, as though time spent without a scheduled destination needed to be justified or filled. In a world increasingly shaped by constant stimulation and distraction, the idea of simply being at sea - without excursions, appointments, or itineraries - can, for some, clearly feel uncomfortable and unsettling.

For us, the appeal of sea days lies precisely in what they do not demand. They offer space to slow down, to notice changes in light and weather, to watch the sea surface shift hour by hour, and to let thoughts wander without interruption. 

 
Having spent so much time on transatlantic crossings, we’ve grown accustomed to this way of moving through the world. Days at sea have taught us that quiet is not the absence of experience. They offer something increasingly rare in this day and age - uninterrupted time, open horizons, and the chance to simply be in the moment.  Perhaps that’s why the idea of sea days being something to endure rather than embrace feels odd to us.

Sleep, Restfulness, and Realities

 
I love being on board a ship. There is something about the steady motion, the sound of waves on the hull, and the separation from the modern world that makes sleep come more easily than it ever does at home. In theory, I feel as though I could sleep forever on board - deeper, longer, and more peacefully than in my own bed or sleeping bag. 
 
But the reality is that the excitement of a new port or the possibility of missing a beautiful sunrise, seeing a new bird species, sighting a whale, or really just missing a moment on board often propels us to stay in bed less and less and less as the voyage goes on.

 
For us, time resting or in bed shrinks, not because the ship isn’t comfortable - vessels like Queen Mary 2, Wind Surf, and Ambience are wonderfully cozy - but because the desire to see and experience everything becomes irresistible.
 
As such, time at sea for us often turns into an endurance test rather than a restful vacation, and we inevitably step ashore exhausted. My mother laughingly summed it up best after we returned from Alaska aboard Queen Elizabeth and promptly went to bed for days: “You look like you need a vacation from your vacation.”
 
Despite this fear of missing a moment, we stayed in bed until 7:30 AM, just snug and reading.  By 8 AM, now showered and cleaned up, we grabbed a quick breakfast and spent an hour on the aft deck watching the passing seas.
 

Enrichment with Dr. Steven Payne

 
After spending part of the morning today out on deck, we made our way inside for one of the day’s enrichment talks. The first was given by Stephen Payne, a name we already recognized - and not for the first time. This was actually the second voyage on which we’d found ourselves listening to him speak, the first having been aboard Queen Mary 2 itself. 

A British naval architect, Payne has worked on the design of more than forty passenger ships, including the world’s last true ocean liner. His career has also included work on Carnival and Holland America vessels, consultation on the Queen Elizabeth–class aircraft carriers, and, more recently, the 2021 unveiling of a proposed new flagship to replace the royal yacht HMY Britannia. Along the way, he has received a number of prestigious professional honours, but what came through most clearly in his presentation was not status, but enthusiasm – not just for naval history and ship architecture, but surprisingly his seeming fondness for science fiction, often referencing Thunderbirds, Doctor Who, and Star Trek into his talk.

We listened with interest ot his latest presentation, found ourselves wishing we could ask a couple of questions. One concerned the often-repeated idea that ships like Queen Mary 2 are designed for a forty-year lifespan. Given that the vessel we were sailing on remains very much in service, and that even the long-idle SS United States, recently towed to be scrapped, could still be moved along the Atlantic coast decades after her last voyage, we wondered whether that forty-year figure is more guideline than limit - and whether QM2 might comfortably exceed it?
 
The second question followed from QM2’s recent, extensive refit, where the central elevator shafts were removed, new suites were added, and the Garden Lounge was transformed into the Carinthia Lounge, among other changes. We would have loved to hear how he felt about those alterations - not as a passenger, but as the architect who first gave the ship her form.  Does he view the alterations as a critique or merely an evolution?
 

ORCA and Arctic Evolution

The next talk in the Palladium was delivered by ORCA and focused on Arctic evolution, mostly being about how whales and other marine animals adapt to polar temperatures and to the extreme depths where their food sources lie. It was a thoughtful, engaging and interesting presentation.

As if to cap it off, the captain’s noon announcement raised the possibilities of seeing more whales even further, noting that this region offered the potential to see minke, sperm, and killer whales. As such, we skipped lunch without hesitation and spent the next two hours out on the aft deck, scanning the water.

In the process, we were rewarded with several species of gulls and large numbers of Northern Gannets, and possibly shearwaters too - birds that seemed to glide along the side of the ship at improbable speed.

There were no whales that afternoon, but the watching itself felt worthwhile, shaped by the possibility that something extraordinary might surface at any moment. 

Drinks and Dinner

Sunset came shortly after mid-afternoon, a reminder that even after travelling twelve hours and nearly two hundred nautical miles south, we had only “gained” a single hour of daylight. As darkness settled in - despite the relatively early hour - it felt like the end of the day. As such, we soon returned to our room to freshen up before drifting toward the Botanical Lounge to unwind. 

Seated, we wrote our travel journals, read, and watched the world slide past outside.  I lingered over a coffee with Baileys while Sean enjoyed a glass of rosé, while the ship hummed steadily beneath us.

By late afternoon, the motion of the vessel changed, as the ship began to roll more noticeably.  Soon after, an announcement was made, offering assistance to anyone who might need help as the sea conditions began to deteriorate.  Ever pragmatic, Sean swapped his dress clothes for something more practical - a shift which ... loosely translated, meant he was half-expecting either a dramatic night involving orange survival boats or hours spent outside chasing the northern lights.  Either way, he was going to be ready.

Rather than returning to the dining room, we followed our instincts and made our way to the buffet. It was unusually quiet; many passengers were clearly waylaid by the motion of the ship. The emptiness felt almost calming. I opted for dhal, rice, and vegetarian tacos, while Sean chose cheese and spinach cannelloni with a garden salad. It was a simple meal, but a welcome change - and exactly what the evening called for.  

Trivia, Theatre, and Northern Lights

After dinner, we began the evening in the Purple Turtle with what was billed as “easy trivia,” easing into the night after listening to Duo Lito - a talented couple whose gentle music set a relaxed tone for the hours ahead. Later, the ship’s theatrical crew transformed the space with a light-hearted James Bond - style mystery, Spies Like Us, adding just the right amount of playful intrigue to the evening.

Afterwards, we spent most of our time moving between the upper decks, the jogging track, and the warmth of the Observatory. The northern lights were active outside, pulling us repeatedly back into the cold darkness. Sean lingered where it was warm while I kept returning to the open decks in search of northern lights. 

Stepping out at midnight, I was surprised when I found myself face to face - almost (it felt) within touching distance of a line of mountains looming close to the side of the ship and the aurora dancing overhead!

It was perhaps one of the most beautiful nights on board a ship that I have ever experienced!

Perspective

 
As our time in the north comes to an end, we are now just slightly beyond the halfway mark in this voyage and have begun the turn southward.  In many ways, it feels as though this journey is almost finished.  Yet so much still lies ahead.

 
With another six or seven days still remaining, the time ahead is not at all small.  Put another way, the time that remains is the same duration as Queen Mary 2 often takes to cross the Atlantic.  On another vessel in another time, we would just be at the beginning of our journey.
 
The departure from Alta and the turn south is more of a pivot than a conclusion
 
See you on deck!
 
Nautical Term for the Day: Cod Line - A reference to fishing grounds and traditional seamanship; cod was once the backbone of northern coastal life and influenced early maritime routes.