7th February 2016

Today, we set our alarms early for the unique privilege of staring at… a rock. Not just any rock, mind you, but a rather special one. Yesterday, the Captain had announced that we’d be diverting course to pass within 1,000 metres of the tallest seastack in the world. Rising over 500 metres from the ocean and plunging 3,000 metres to the seabed, it’s called the False Pyramid and sits just off the Lord Howe Islands. You can see why we were intrigued; rocks like this don’t come along every day.

By 7:30 a.m., we were breakfasted and up on the top deck, joining a smattering of other early risers. The scene wasn’t quite as idyllic as we’d hoped. The warm blue skies had been replaced by racing clouds, a biting wind, and the occasional slap of rain. Undeterred, we battled our way towards the bow, leaning into the gale like seasoned explorers. In the distance, we could just about make out the silhouette of the colossal stack, rising dramatically from the waves.

However, after a few minutes of being thoroughly buffeted by the elements, we decided we weren’t quite as hardy as we thought. We retreated to a lower deck, where a set of steps offered some much-needed shelter. From there, we could still see the rock, but without the bonus of feeling like we were in a wind tunnel. Perfect. All that was left to do was wait for the mighty False Pyramid to glide past.

We must have waited about an hour before the towering mass of volcanic rock finally slid close. During our vigil, we endured a passing shower, prompting Sue to dash back to the cabin for sweaters, a wise move, as it turns out. The Captain kept us entertained with periodic updates over the PA, sharing facts and figures about this geological marvel. Apparently, despite having sailed this route numerous times, it was only the second time he’d laid eyes on the False Pyramid. Even seasoned mariners get a bit starstruck by a big rock.

As we approached the monolithic spike, I couldn’t help but have a fleeting thought of the ‘Costa Concordia’, but thankfully, our Captain seemed more intent on showcasing the stack than reenacting maritime mishaps. The ship slowed to a crawl, giving everyone ample time to snap away. By now, the decks were packed with eager passengers, all jostling for the perfect shot.

Our patience paid off handsomely, as we were treated to uninterrupted, jaw-dropping views of the False Pyramid. It loomed majestically against the moody sky, a natural wonder that seemed almost too dramatic to be real. A fitting reward for our early start and windy endurance test.

With the stack receding into the distance, we returned below to begin our programme of activities for the day.

Today’s lecture was a real hoot, focusing on the humour of different nationalities. The speaker treated us to a selection of YouTube clips to make their point, and the standout moment was Paul Hogan’s infamous Oscars speech. His down-to-earth, no-nonsense Aussie banter brought the glitzy American audience crashing down to reality, and you could practically see their discomfort, absolutely priceless. Naturally, no talk on international humour would be complete without Barry Humphries. Watching Dame Edna Everidge take Tom Jones and Parkinson down a peg or two was as deliciously cutting as ever.

Post-lecture, Sue headed off to her favourite reading spot on the deck, while I returned to the Schooner Bar to bury my nose in a book. She wasn’t gone long, though; despite the sunshine, the breeze proved too much, so we regrouped and wandered off for lunch at the Windjammer.

On our way back, we bumped into our Cabin Maid, who casually mentioned she’d left the liquor in our room. ‘Liquor’? Sure enough, we found a case containing four bottles of spirits waiting for us. Sadly, any visions of a free minibar were short-lived; the box was addressed to cabin 7253, not our 7523. With our Cabin Maid off duty, I flagged down one of her colleagues, who ensured the precious cargo reached its rightful (and probably thirsty) owner.

In the afternoon, Sue toyed with attending a lecture on Forensics, but the lure of a good book and the Schooner Bar proved too strong. Meanwhile, I returned to my favourite window seat, polishing off my Sherlock Holmes while enjoying some fantastic live music. Sue joined me later, and we sat together, soaking up the tunes.

As the day wound down, we returned to the cabin to pack our cases for collection overnight. Before dinner, we caught one last show in the theatre, a lively mix of comedy, singing, and dancing. The grand finale saw the crew take to the stage for a heartfelt farewell. A fitting send-off to another memorable day at sea.

We had unexpected but welcome company for dinner, Steve and Ellie joined us, and we spent a delightful two hours chatting away while working through our courses. The conversation flowed as easily as the wine, and we barely noticed the time. As a bonus, the stewards treated us to another farewell performance, singing their hearts out and reminding us that disembarkation was looming.

After dinner, Sue decided to call it an early night, leaving me to my own devices. Naturally, I opted for a bit of cinematic escapism and headed to the ship’s cinema to watch ‘Mad Max 3D’. What can I say? It was two hours of pure, over-the-top action, explosions, car chases, and more leather than a 1980s rock band. Entertaining in its own absurd way, but I wouldn’t exactly rush to recommend it unless you’re looking for a way to kill time or really enjoy dystopian mayhem. At least the 3D glasses made me feel techy.