Eric nudged me before the tasting even started, already grinning.
“I’m sending this to Spaulding,” he said, holding up his phone like proof we’d somehow made it here.
Scott just laughed, leaning back like he’d been waiting for this moment all week.
And that’s the thing about this trip — somewhere along the way, it stopped being about where we were going and started being about who we were there with.
Another morning at sea — the sky clear, the ship humming, coffee in hand.
It’s funny how quickly life aboard becomes its own little world: familiar faces at breakfast, the same voices over the intercom, the ocean stretching endlessly in every direction.
The routine feels almost comforting now.
Date: Wednesday, August 20, 2025
Location: Passing Prince Rupert Island (19 knots, depth 2,900 meters)
🌌 Early Morning: Stars, Moon & the Sea
I woke at 2:00 a.m. and stepped onto the balcony. The moon lit the water, stars scattered across the sky. No northern lights tonight, but still magical.
It struck me that I should take more photos of the ship itself — the sway as it turns, the odd balance of cramped-yet-spacious cabins, the feel of this floating city. A reminder not just of where we went, but how it felt to live here for a week.
🍳 Morning: Brunch & Behind the Scenes
We grabbed a quick snack at the Windjammer on Deck 14 — three eggs and a biscuit with cheese — before heading to something special: a galley tour and brunch down near Deck 3, close to the waterline.
The Windjammer sits high on the ship with soaring ceilings and wraparound glass walls that look out over the ocean. Morning light poured in from every direction, and from up there the sea felt endless and calm — the kind of place designed entirely for the comfort of the passengers.
The galley, by contrast, is where the real work of the ship happens. No windows here, save the occasional portholes. Everything is stainless steel; sinks, counters, long prep tables, all gleaming under bright lights. Hundreds of crew members move through the space in a carefully choreographed rhythm, preparing food for the 4,400 people aboard.
Watching it all in motion was mind-blowing. Food can only be held for four hours, meaning nearly everything is cooked fresh and constantly replenished.
Brunch afterward was a treat:
- Silky mushroom soup
- Vegetarian pot pie with flaky crust
- Ice cream for dessert
Each bite was full of flavor, one of the best meals so far.
🥃 Afternoon: Whiskey & Queen
Macallan Tasting at Vintages, Deck 5.
At 1:00 p.m., I joined a Macallan whiskey tasting at Vintages. Amit was behind the bar again, keeping things running smoothly. I half-expected the snakeskin hat guy to show up (still riding the high of that mystery), but he was a no-show this time.
Twelve of us gathered around a large raised table with high-backed chairs. Eric and Scott had arrived early and saved me a spot between them—we were seated right at the head of the table. Eric kept nudging me with a grin: “I’m going to send Spaulding this pic.”
Mr. Spaulding is a Macallan fan, and didn’t make it on the trip.
The host—Kingsley, I believe—wore a headset mic and welcomed us with a short video from Macallan’s tasting room in Scotland. It gave the whole experience a sense of occasion, like we were stepping into something a little more refined than your typical cruise cocktail hour.
In front of each of us sat three wide-bodied tasting glasses, each filled with a shot of amber liquid—the kind of drink that practically glows when the light hits it just right. The room settled into that perfect, anticipatory hush—part reverence, part curiosity. A few folks whispered guesses, but most of us just leaned in, ready to learn—and sip.
We began with the 12-year-old: light, smooth, and slightly sweet. We took our time swirling, sniffing, and trying to identify the notes. Kingsley pointed out what we might find—hints of vanilla, soft caramel, even peach or apple. Everyone gave it a try. Some nodded confidently, others just smiled and sipped again.
The whole experience reminded me of the wine tastings HP and I used to do at the Washington wineries. There’s this trick we learned—where you sip, let it roll across your tongue, and then draw in a soft breath through your mouth. That little rush of air lifts the flavors, unlocking layers you didn’t catch at first. It’s simple, but kind of magical. Just like the right sip at the right moment.
Note to self: don’t try that trick with whiskey.
Everything started fine—until the alcohol hit the back of my throat. For a second, I thought my lungs were going to catch fire. Thankful, I didn’t start coughing like a fiend. Ha! Live and learn.
Next came the 15-year-old, and you could taste the evolution—richer, more complex. Toasted caramel led the way, with deeper vanilla and a faint orange peel bite at the edges. It was bolder, but still balanced. I could’ve stopped there and been content.
Macallan 18-year-old—velvet from first sip: richer, darker, smooth as silk. Burnt orange, toffee, toasted oak unfurl with time. Not just a pour, an experience to linger over—and to remember with the friends we shared it with.
By the end, the table was quiet in a different way—less formal, more satisfied. The kind of moment you don’t think to hold onto until it’s already starting to pass. A slow nod. A few half-joking offers to “go halves” on a bottle. We laughed, clinked glasses, and let the flavors fade slowly, like the last light of the day.
“We Will Rock You” — Queen Tribute
At 2:30, we caught We Will Rock You, a full-scale Queen tribute. It was staged in the forward portion of the ship, spanning decks 4 and 5, in a massive theater with sweeping rows of seats. We grabbed spots on the balcony level (deck 5), just off to the right of the stage. Honestly, there aren’t any bad seats in the house.
The cast was backed by a live band positioned around the theater, which gave the whole show this electric, immersive feel. Directly across from us sat the conductor with his electric guitar, and right next to us—a drummer hammering away with contagious energy. You couldn’t just watch the show; you felt it.
It was funny, punny, and bursting with energy. And more than once, I found myself tearing up—maybe from the sheer power of Queen’s music, maybe because of how much writing and creating I’ve been doing lately. Either way, it hit hard, and in the best way.
🍽️ Evening: Formal Night & Farewells
Tonight was formal night in the main dining room. We posed for photos with Saif and Francis, our waiter and assistant waiter for the past six nights. Both have been warm, attentive, and a joy to know.
As shown: Francis, Sue, Scott, Eric, Saif, HP, and me. Dinner was always a highlight — not just the food, but the people we kept coming back to.
Dinner was excellent:
- Soup starter
- Cheese ravioli
- Velvet cheesecake for dessert
At 7:00, On the cabin’s balcony, HP spotted whales in the distance through her binoculars. By the time I made it outside, they were gone — just ripples and distance. The sea doesn’t wait for anyone. Not even for moments you wish you hadn’t missed.
⭐ Quick Ratings (1–5 stars)
- Food: ★★★★★
- Service: ★★★★★
- Cleanliness: ★★★★★
- Activities: ★★★★★
📝 End-of-Day Reflection
Best part of today:
The Queen show — music that moved me in ways I didn’t expect. The whiskey tasting was another highlight, a great shared experience with friends. Honestly, the whole day felt like one long high note.
Something unexpected:
The galley tour. Seeing the scale and precision it takes to feed thousands gave me a whole new respect for the crew. Stainless steel everywhere, heat rising off the lines, cooks moving quickly but without chaos, each person locked into their role like part of something bigger.
The meal that followed was excellent — everyone down there moving in rhythm, doing their own bit of magic so that we never glimpse the long hours or hard work that make it all look effortless.
There’s something about being at sea near the end of a long trip — a strange blend of contentment and nostalgia. The days have started to blur together, each one rich in its own way, yet somehow fleeting. Tonight, with the echo of Bohemian Rhapsody still in my ears and the scent of salt drifting through the balcony doors, I realized how rare it is to feel completely present.
Every taste, every laugh, every note felt amplified — by the motion of the ship and the company we kept. Maybe that’s what travel really gives you, not just new places, but a sharper sense of being alive while you’re there.
Hard to believe the week is almost over; part of me wishes the ocean would never run out.
At the Forge
Day 6 carried the easy grace of a story that knows its own rhythm. Between the hum of the galley, the burn of good whiskey, and the thunder of Queen echoing through the ship, the day felt like celebration in motion.
Maybe that’s what the end of a journey really is — not the slowing down, but the moment you finally realize how alive you’ve felt all along.
— Dennis D. Montoya
Stories Forged in Ink and Ash
Dennis D Montoya 