Silver Muse is the destination as Silversea’s cruise ship is a journey into luxury, relaxation and fine dining
When the going gets rough on a cruise up Australia’s east coast, it’s best to simply settle in for the ride.
We haven’t had the easiest introduction to this cruising caper. First there is the confusion over where our ship is “parked”. The serious woman at Sydney’s White Bay terminal points across the baking tarmac to a tent-like structure, shimmering in the noon heat. “You can walk there.”
So we do, dragging our bulging bags, relieved to find the airconditioning has been cranked up. Joining a group of flustered passengers – some of whom were to have boarded in Auckland, only for their flights from the US to be diverted by the North Island flood crisis – we settle down on plastic chairs to wait. And wait.
I mention this only because the mixed quality of shore facilities will become a talking point on our voyage to Cairns aboard Silver Muse, a flagship of the luxe Silversea line. Another, of course, is the ever-present menace of the Covid-19 virus. We had been assured a test wouldn’t be required, but turns out it is. Thankfully, the unflappable ship’s crew arrive to take charge.
Two rapid antigen kits are produced and we’re left to the ticklish business of using them. All clear. “Welcome aboard,” the smiling attendant says.
A bottle of Champagne is waiting on ice in our superior verandah suite on deck eight. The suitcases are there, too, having been whisked away while we were otherwise occupied. My wife Georgie and I take stock. A hard marker, she is impressed by the generous 36sq m of living and storage space. The queen bed can be screened by black-out drapes; a comfortable couch and armchair furnish the compact sitting area. The balcony, screened for privacy on each side, has room for two chairs and a drink stand. The bathroom is lined in marble, with a full-size tub, separate shower and Bulgari toiletries.
We’ve packed amply because there’s a dress code on Silversea, in keeping with its unashamedly upmarket pitch: dinner suits and gowns on formal nights; jackets for the men otherwise, necktie optional. Shorts and open-toed footwear are banned below decks after 6pm. I wish I had shined my not-so-dress shoes. The walk-in robe has copious hanging space, plus chest-high dresser and well-sized luggage shelves.
There’s a knock on the door. Lori, the butler, is bedecked in black tails and bow tie, and asks whether we would like her to unpack. All under control, my wife answers. Then how about the caviar service? Would madam care to book a facial treatment in the spa? An appointment with the manicurist for sir? We could get used to this.
We set out to explore Silver Muse, one of 10 Silversea ships plying the world’s southern oceans at this juncture in late summer. The ship is big – 11 decks tall, 212m from stem to stern, displacing nearly 41,000 tonnes. At full capacity, it carries 596 passengers and 411 crew.
On this run up the eastern seaboard the ratio is nearly 1:1, with 450 guests on board. All but a few cabins on deck four have balconies and there’s no shortage of takers for the next step up from ours, the 73sq m Silver Suite with king bed and more room than some apartments I’ve lived in. Only one of these suites is not booked.
Our first stop is the busy pool deck, where sun lounges are arranged in neat rows and waiters are serving drinks and snacks. It’s all laid on, from bubbles to fresh fruit punch (with a kick if desired) and truffle-infused cashews, a personal favourite.
The mouth-watering aroma from the outdoor pizza station is deeply unhelpful; I can already feel the kilos packing on.
We fall into conversation with Claire, a personable ex-teacher and her husband, Steve, a retired Australian army officer. Like many of the passengers, they’re returnees, having been hooked by a cruise in the Mediterranean.
Another couple from chilly New Hampshire in the US spends 100 days a year on Silversea to escape the worst of the weather at home. They ask us to join them after dinner for dancing at the Silver Note jazz club.
The meal is a relaxed affair around the pool at the repurposed Grill, one of eight onboard restaurants. We eat buttery sirloin steak cooked on hot rocks, matched with a smooth Barossa red. The ship gets underway as we enjoy dessert. What an experience it is to pass under the Sydney Harbour Bridge at such close quarters, the ka-thunk of rushing traffic above echoing like thunder.
To starboard, the shells of the Opera House are ghostly, framed by the lights of the city. Soon enough, we’re through the Heads and feeling the roll of the ocean.
Next morning, Georgie lines up for more hot rocks, this time delicately arranged on her back by a masseur in Zagara Spa. Emerging from the session, she’s positively glowing. “I’ve had a spiritual experience,” she says.
We head to the breakfast buffet for fresh fruit, juice and cappuccino for her, the three-egg omelette with cheese and a helping of excuses for me. The ship has berthed in Newcastle, but we don’t join the rush ashore. Georgie heads to the pool, while I investigate Tor’s Observation Library.
Here’s a find – my own eyrie overlooking the bow, packed with books, board games and an expanse of empty armchairs. If it’s personal space you want, there’s plenty going here. I’m lost in a volume of Robert Caro’s Pulitzer-winning biography of America’s 36th president, The Years of Lyndon Johnson, when we depart on the stroke of 5.30pm. A boom sounds from historic Fort Scratchley, followed by the second and third volleys of the ceremonial gun salute.
The ship’s horn bellows in reply.
The evening’s dress code is casual but I’m surprised to find my shoes shined and wrapped in tissue paper. Lori has been in. We share a silky Thai curry and slow-cooked beef at Indochine, one of two walk-in restaurants serving dinner (the others require booking).
The swell has picked up. People sway along the carpeted passageways, steadying themselves on the railings. The rock and roll is manageable – the stabilising system must have kicked in – and reminds that this opulent floating resort is also a ship at sea.
We drift off to sleep to the soft crump of waves breaking on the hull.
Two days’ cruising brings us to Queensland’s Fraser Island, the World Heritage-listed sanctuary of sand and rainforest north of Brisbane. It’s not the best day for it. The bruised sky seems to fold into the grey ocean, testament to the reach of Tropical Cyclone Gabrielle brewing in the Coral Sea to our north. When we click on one of the cabin TVs, niftily projected from a mirror panel, the man from the weather bureau is saying it will be “interesting” to see how close the storm gets to the coast. We opt to stay on board.
It’s formal night, so everyone is dressed to impress. Where’s Lori? My suit seems to have shrunk.
At Alantide, we spot Claire and Steve across the busy restaurant. The maitre d’ takes it in his stride when we ask to sit together. There’s a juicy New York strip steak, cooked to instruction, grilled fish, and a cracking French cabernet.
Moderate to a fault, I wave away the offer of a second dish of cheesecake.
Claire is raving about the multinational crew, who work six to eight-month rotations at sea and seem happy to handle any request.
During the pandemic, when cruising worldwide shuddered to a halt, Silversea paid to hold on to its people, which is unusual in a come-and-go industry.
Discreet but welcome precautions against the virus remain in place. Passengers are temperature-checked when returning from day trips and some wear face masks; onboard, use of handwash is politely enforced at the doors of eateries and communal spaces. No known cases of Covid emerge during the voyage.
By the time we backtrack to Mooloolaba on the Sunshine Coast, the sea is a heaving tableau of whitecaps, running at more than 3m. Some passengers become nauseous while waiting for a tender to shore. Transferring them to and from the tossing launches is another test for the crew, and added grist for bemused conversations about the mostly primitive state of Australian shore facilities.
From our balcony, I watch as a returning tender bobs up to the anchored ship. Deckhands wait until the small boat rises on a crest and hovers level with the gangway; in that instant, strong arms reach out to pull the daytrippers aboard, one at a time. Captain Marco Sangiacomo later explains he allowed the excursions to proceed only in the knowledge that the next stop at Airlie Beach, on the Whitsunday Coast, is to be cancelled due to the storm.
We’re inside the reef now, so conditions should ease, he says, but there will be a second day in Townsville. As Queensland locals, we’re not bothered about the weather causing us to miss sights previously seen; the ship has become our destination.
We eat dinner at Kaiseki, a teppanyaki restaurant, which is more than worth the $40 a head surcharge. Plump and sizzling lobster tails, straight off the grill, are a delight. Then it’s on to the 9.45pm cabaret in the Venetian Lounge with song and dance man Wayne Scott Kermond, where we join the standing ovation, marvelling at his energy.
“You really should come to the gym tomorrow,” Georgie says.
But Tor is calling. And we’re on holiday. And they’re doing octopus and prawns on the barbecue by the pool for lunch and we really ought to do something about that cream cake Lori left for my birthday, along with balloons, Champagne and a card, because it would be rude not to eat it, right?
My wife sighs. Cairns and the world of cares we left behind for these 10 precious and pampered days draw near. Claire and Steve are going on to Singapore. How we wish we could join them.
IN THE KNOW
Silver Explorer begins its season in the Kimberley on May 13, sailing itineraries of 10 to 18 days; from $12,100 a person, twin-share. The next Silversea voyage up the east coast of Australia departs Sydney on February 24, 2024, as part of a 40-day cruise to Hong Kong; from $27,100 a person, twin-share, on Silver Shadow. Silver Muse sails from Singapore to Auckland via Darwin, Thursday Island, Cairns and Townsville on a 29-day voyage departing November 8; from $19,700 a person, twin-share.
Jamie Walker was a guest of Silversea.
