Just Another Day At Sea

March 5th Somewhere between Mooloolaba and Airlie Beach

Our original booking for this world tour was 133 days, and about 50 of those are at sea. That’s a lot of days just floating on an ocean. People asked me, and I wondered too, how is that going to be, will I be bored? We’re deep enough in now I think I can safely answer with an emphatic no. We need these sea days between adventures to recharge, process what we’ve seen and done, and just live life onboard. It’s fun here. For me of course it’s a bit different than most. I’m teaching. But my students are there faithfully, some for both classes, so their schedule isn’t that much different than mine. So here’s a pretty typical day:

I wake up to Greg putting my latte on my night table. He’s done that for 18 years. Here onboard, without our own kitchen and our beloved Breville, he can bring regular coffee (no thanks) or wait until the Mosaic Cafe opens at 7. I’m not there for this part, but I know Faul who runs the cafe knows our order and starts making it as soon as he sees Greg round the corner from the elevator. Faul hails from the Philippines and is always smiling and singing. He occasionally gets invited onstage in the cabaret and can belt out a good show tune. He loves to collect fridge magnets from everywhere we go, and when he can’t get off the ship at a port we get one for him. We didn’t plan it this way, but it does ensure that our coffee order gets a bit ‘prioritizes’ when the cafe is hopping. 

I drink my coffee and play my morning games, Wordle, Worldle and Octordle, then navigate the 6 paces past the sofa and desk to the loo. As I brush my teeth I have a thought. I love living in a compact space. We have exactly what we need. Everything is in its spot, most of it in arms reach. These ships are well designed to tuck everything away. No wasted space. It’s like sailboat or RV living. I brought enough stuff for six months including art supplies and tech toys, and we actually have unused drawers in our stateroom. We have to stay organized, but that’s a good thing. I had suspected the cabin would be starting to shrink by about now, but so far no. We’re comfy and happy. 

Today I’m teaching a watercolour class on painting beaches. I laid in bed last night to prepare the handout and do a digital version of todays painting, separating the washes into layers so I can show them step by step what we’re going to do. We get the two bags with all the art supplies out of the window well and head out for breakfast. We’re debating whether we’ll just have a snack at Mosaic or go up to Windows, the buffet on Deck 9, when we see that there’s a special brunch in Discovies, the big fancy dining room, this morning. They do this every few weeks and it is amazing. I load up on a Croque Monsieur, Smoked Salmon and fruit. Someone brings me a latte and a mimosa. One of my favourite students comes and joins us, and we talk about painting and ports and what’s coming up as we eat. 

Breakfast done, I head up to Deck 10 to start my class. There are always students already there when I arrive. The classes have been popular and although they’ve signed up they’re keen to get their favourite spot. The entertainment crew has come and set up for me. The tables are wrapped in plastic, there’s paper, cups of water, and the printout I emailed to them late last night are there. 

I welcome my students and walk them through the scene we’re about to paint. They are creative souls, and they like to have a stepping off point, but then most want to do their own thing. It’s fun to see how much each painting reflects the painter. Already I think I could line up their work and attach painter to painting without knowing who did what. They’re keen to learn technique and they pay attention to the demos. I start off with a quick one, and then just loop around the room encouraging them and giving them pointers. I think they kind of chuckle at me telling everyone their painting is gorgeous, but I’m not just being nice. I think they’re all brilliant, or at least have brilliant moments. And like I always say to them, it’s not about what ends up on the paper, it’s about learning to see and having the experience of creating. 

I used to try to eat between classes, but I’m in no danger of starving on this ship, so now I go straight through with a 15 minute break and teach the same class to a new group. Some of the people from the first round sneak back in and fill spots if the second isn’t too packed. They’re having fun and so am I. If I were just a passenger on this ship I’d be thrilled to find so many people who wanted to paint with me every day. This is a good gig. 

After class we check out the lunch options. Because of the brunch there’s no lunch in the dining room, but we never go there anyways. There’s more action up on Deck 9, between Windows Buffet and The Patio Grill poolside. We check them both out and choose the grill. All this fancy food, and I’m craving a hot dog and fries. You can’t be fancy every day, right?

From there we go to the cabaret to listen to a speaker talk about Airlie Beach. The ship always has a range of specialty speakers on, and this guy is fun, funny and informative. We don’t usually go to these talks, but we’ve been trying to decide what to do with our time in Airlie. We’re arriving tomorrow and we haven’t signed up for any kind of excursion. We are entertained, but still undecided. Most likely we’ll just take our tech toys in, do some banking and feast on some cafe’s wifi. 

We swing by the party zone to see our buddies. The smoking area on deck 9 has turned into a bit of a hang out. Even the non-smokers go to chat and chill. We discuss our options for tomorrow, make a loose plan to go ashore and just explore, and plan to meet later for dinner as well. I head down to get some work done. This trip is all fun, but I’m not retired like most of these people. I need to produce work. I picked up some new supplies yesterday in Mooloolaba and am starting in on some larger scale linocuts. I get a drawing of the Sydney Opera House transferred onto linoleum ready to carve and have another of a Hobbiton Hobbit House ready to transfer. I’m excited to see these pieces come to life. 

Time to get ready for dinner. I’ve been piling my hair in an artist bun for days, time to do a real shampoo blow dry. I put on the soft green satin skirt and matching T I bought in Aukland, some gold sandals and my white pashmina and we head to Discoveries to meet Marianne and Joe. The food choices are always amazing. Tonight I choose a spring roll, a burrata salad and a gorgeous ravioli. The Pinot Grigio is flowing, and my resolve to not have dessert dissolves when I see the berry cheesecake on offer. There’s a show in the Cabaret every night. At the beginning we went to everything, but after a month or so you get a bit blasé about things that are always available, and we can’t even remember the last time we went. We decide to go. It is an Australia singer doing an Americana show. Lots of Route 66 references. He’s good, and funny. And even though it’s a show about American road trips he is still Australian and can’t resist finishing off with Waltzing Matilda. Funny, just today we were talking in class about what that song means, and he explained all the Australianisms before he started. It’s sweet and sad, and when Greg headed up to 9 to smoke I went to our cabin, pulled out my guitar and took a swing at learning to play it. 

Tomorrow is a port day. We arrive at Airlie Beach at 8:30. I’m not sure if we need the sea days to recover from the busyness of the port days or vice versa, but somehow it all works. I’ve yet to be bored. It’s a good life out here. 

Thanks so much for reading. Don’t forget to sign up for updates and I’ll keep you posted on our adventures