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'Mariner' cruise sets high-water mark
By ELLEN KLUGMAN © St. Petersburg Times,
First, I enlisted my father's and husband's support for a mother-and-daughter trip by pointing out the unlimited computer time each would enjoy. Then, I booked a nine-night, round-trip cruise from a port close to my parents' Florida home on the grandest ship I could find. I chose the newly launched (March 2001) Radisson Seven Seas' Mariner, the cruise industry's first all-suite, all-balcony ship, for several reasons. I wanted my mother to experience the luxury of a private veranda. As importantly, with accommodations measuring a minimum of 301 square feet (practically palatial compared to most cruise ship cabins), I knew we wouldn't be tripping over each other. And with 700 passengers, this ship is not too small and not too big. Finally, why kid myself: Sailing on a ship that places a premium on cuisine is as essential to my mom and me as life preservers. The ship's reservations-only restaurant operated by chefs from the renowned Cordon Bleu cooking school in Paris upped the odds that we'd eat well in at least one of the Mariner's four dining venues. Mercifully, there wasn't a piece of polyester in sight when we entered our suite: richly woven autumn-colored fabrics lend Mariner's accommodations a decidedly European feel, as do the beds' plump, down-stuffed duvets and pillows. (The Mariner's European-size twins/queen beds are narrower than comparable categories of American-size mattresses; the difference bothered my mother but not me.) Drapes separate each standard suite's sleeping quarters from its living area. An elegant, two-toned marble bathroom offers unprecedented storage space.
That evening, we ignored the room service menu and ordered from the main dining room, whose selections are far more sophisticated. Dinner arrived course-by-course on crisp, white linens. We ate in our robes and slippers, left the veranda doors wide open, and contentedly watched the water rush by. The next morning, following a room service breakfast (delivered by hand to aovid a clattering cart and marked by small flourishes such cream cheese garnished with a raspberry and spearmint-leaf flower), I left my mother to watch CNN while I explored our ship. Most cruises offer fitness classes sporadically and eliminate them completely on port days. Our Mariner sailing featured six or more classes every day. I was in workout heaven. Exercisers who prefer weights and equipment were less pleased with the Mariner's gym facilities than I. While the Mariner's gym class program impressed me, the ship's Judith Jackson Sea Spa did not. Although my massage was less mechanical than those I usually encounter at sea, the treatment room's interrogation-like lighting and the lack of a spa lounge/relaxation area to linger in dissuaded me from going back. (According to Seven Seas spokeswoman Lauren Kaufman, the shipyard that built the Mariner is expected to correct the spa's lighting problem.) By evening, I had also lounged by the Lido (pool) deck's understated Jacuzzi-flanked pool and e-mailed our spouses from the Mariner's 15-terminal computer classroom. (Internet service was free; e-mails cost me about $6 per half-page to send or receive.) The focal point of the Mariner's eight-deck-high atrium, a laser-light show on the wall, was wasted on me, but the ship's other public areas are refreshing, particularly for "been-there/done-that" passengers. The Mariner's Lounge, for example, represents an intimate shipboard rendezvous, thanks to a wooden room separator characterized by sculpture-filled peek-a-boo niches. Bold oil paintings provide plenty of panache to the Mariner's 546-passenger main dining room (the elegant and breezy Compass Rose), where 66 percent of the seating consists of tables for two and tables for four. Upon returning to our cabin, I learned that the ship's en suite bathtub feature, though a boon to me, proved a bust to my less agile mother. Safety concerns regarding the Mariner's steep tubs drove her and several other seniors we met to use the spa showers for the rest of the cruise. (The Mariner's sister, the Seven Seas Voyager, featuring separate tub and shower facilities, makes its debut in 2003.) The Mariner's suites are well-soundproofed, so it took us a few days to discover that our "next-door neighbors" were a couple from my parents' hometown of Boynton Beach. Kim Hattem, 64, a veteran travel consultant, didn't mince words. "I think this ship's going to blow Crystal right out of the water," Hattem declared, referring to the top-rated, two-ship cruise line that had a lock on the high-end, midsized ship market until the Mariner's debut. "People don't want to be told with whom and when to eat," Hattem said, contrasting the Mariner main dining room's single-seating, open-dining policy with Crystal's more rigid, two-seating, assigned-table arrangement. "You also have to pay extra ($6 per person) every time you dine at certain alternative restaurants aboard Crystal's ships. The Mariner doesn't charge anything." (In addition, complimentary wine selections at dinner, all soft drinks and gratuities are included aboard the Mariner but cost extra on Crystal ships.) As for accommodations, "Crystal's cabins are generally smaller," Hattem said. "And you have to pay a lot of money before you can even get into a balcony suite on Crystal's ships." "This is a much better value." The Crystal Symphony is one of my favorite ships, but I found myself agreeing with Hattem's assessment, with one notable exception: When it comes to shipboard entertainment, Crystal outshines the Mariner by far. Some people should only sing in the shower. I'm one of them; the piano player at the Mariner's otherwise romantic panoramic Observation Lounge was another. The singer and keyboardist featured in the gray and yellow-hued Horizon Lounge during our cruise proved mediocre as well. Entertainment at the Mariner's handsome, two-tier Constellation Theater (including an excellent French-themed revue in lieu of the usual "best hits of Broadway" production) fared much better. Midway through our cruise, my mother and I supped at the Mariner's chicly decorated, 110-seat Cordon Bleu-operated French restaurant. Signatures' set menu of six appetizers and six principal dishes seemed limited, even with an additional page of appetizers and one main entree developed by culinary academies from around the world. (The latter menu changes weekly.) Dinner was extremely good (and dessert exceptional), but neither of us found Signatures appreciably better than the ship's Compass Rose, which also boasts a larger menu. Later in the cruise, we also tried Latitudes, the Mariner's other reservations-only dinner venue. This jaunty-looking, 70-guest restaurant showcases an unchanging five-course Asian and fusion menu in a cozy atmosphere decorated with Persian carpets and masks from Southeast Asia, India and Africa. I greatly admired the ship's decision to attempt something different, but my mother declined to go back. I left the Mariner satisfied that my mother had received the best a mid- to large-size cruise ship can offer. - Ellen B. Klugman is a freelance writer living in Marina del Rey, Calif. If you goThe 700-passenger Radisson Seven Seas Mariner is a gratuities-included, all-suite, all-balcony ship. Mariner suite sizes range from 301 to 1,580 square feet (including veranda). Taking advantage of a 50 percent off second-guest fares promotion, standard suite accommodations on a nine-night cruise to Bermuda and the Colonial South from Fort Lauderdale (including two nights in Hamilton, Bermuda) cost $2,696 per person. (Port charges cost about $225 per person more.) This fall, the Mariner will do a series of sailings from Fort Lauderdale and the West Coast followed by a South America-bound, four cruise-segment voyage (the latter ranging from eight nights to 12 nights) from Fort Lauderdale, starting December 27. For information, call toll-free 1-800-285-1835; Web site www.rssc.com. © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • St. Petersburg Times
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