Thank you, Midnite!
Yup, Raineypark, none-other than PD James! Of course, the book store on board had Murder Room for sale, along with many of her other books, just so people could buy them and have her autograph them during her book-signing session in the library. If I would've known she was going to be on board, I would've brought my own copy of one of her books from home to have her John Hancock in it. She was absolutely charming, the theater/lecture hall (which also served as the planetarium) overflowing.
Speaking of the library, Connie, it has over 8,000 volumes, along with periodicals, CD-Rom's, computers, etc., anything you would fine in a professional library. It is situated at the front of the superstructure, with panoramic windows overlooking the bow and the seas ahead. It is a warm, inviting place, with writing tables and comfortable chairs and sofas. A desk located in the center (where several of the noted authors on board had their book signings) is where Queen Elizabeth II sat when she was the first person to sign the guest register when she christened the ship.
For the most part, the water was calm. There were occasional heavy seas, but the stabilizers kept movement to a barely perceptible minimum. I only felt anything substantial (I wear the transderm anti-seasickness patch, since I get seasick if I stir my coffee too fast) late one evening (actually early one morning) while in the night club called G32. Since it was so late and most passengers had retired, the stabilizers were shut off to decrease drag and the QM2 began a gentle but somewhat substantial roll. I and others sat at the bar and watched with fun glee as the level in the hootch bottles ran from one side to the other. And then our fascination - along with that of the bartenders - was caught when a bottle of Jack Daniels would tip over and balance on its edge, return to center, and then tip to the other side, again balancing on its edge without falling completely over. Of course, the amount of libations enjoyed by many in the night club, which would've put Roger Collins to shame, might have had something to do with that apparent phenomenon. The one weather problem that was more frequent on the north Atlantic was fog. At one point, one could only see a third-way down the promenade deck. But it was rather romantic and mysterious, as we sailed away in that thick blanket, everything around us muted by its heaviness, even the sound of the water washing against the hull far below soft and distant, the mournful but assuring call of the foghorn echoing through the mist.
Gerard
