There's danger in claiming you're the best of the best: passengers crossing your gangplank have dizzying visions of satin sheets, grain-fattened roast pheasants, and staff with movie-star looks. My first sight of Seven Seas Mariner in Auckland harbour is promising. The elegant ship is an eye-aching white and crew are daubing tiny blemishes with paint brushes.
For a ship launched in 2001, Mariner looks more taut teenager than middle-aged, thanks to judicious nips and tucks. Last year, $30 million was spent on new carpets, redecorated bars and theatre, and upping the luxury cabins (or suites in six-star parlance). Everything is as immaculate as a Swiss watchmaker's atelier, scrubbed and working like a Piaget pendulum. The makeover has left the atrium lobby looking a tad tired, but who spends time in the lobby? The new bars are the most gorgeous parts of the ship. Mariner Lounge has low-lit intimacy; Stars Nightclub a vaguely Moroccan, velvety plum-purple glamour. The Observation Lounge has a contemporary appeal, with white-leather furnishings and a fabulous eleventh-deck outlook as the ship sails out of Auckland. It's a space to return to time and again, though there are still more options in the Horizon Lounge and cigar room.
When Mariner was launched it was the world's first all-suite, all-balcony cruise ship. I'm in a Concierge Suite (cabin 1039), not really a true suite, as a dividing curtain separates living and sleeping quarters. But the generous space allows ample room for a sofa and armchair, coffee table and large cabinet that provides a welcome hidey-hole for bits, bobs and wine bottles. Balconies are large enough for two armchairs and some moving around. Watching harbour pilots hop between ship and pilot boat in New Zealand's surging seas has me leaning on the railings almost daily.
There's no faulting suite maintenance, with twice-daily service from hardworking housekeepers. Recent refurbishments have added new bedding, Illy coffee makers, flat-screen TVs and DVD players to suites, plus iPods and Bose speakers in higher cabin categories. The walk-in closet is Narnia sized, perhaps just as well, since some passengers lug enough baggage to suit a Victorian adventurer sailing off to India.
Only in en suite bathrooms do things fall short. Bathrooms vary with suite type, but mine is cramped. Less mobile passengers will find the shower-over-bath configuration difficult. My head scrapes the ceiling above the shower and the shower curtain clings to my legs like an amorous octopus. I've enjoyed more cleverly arranged bathrooms on space-challenged river-cruise ships, and this isn't a six-star wallow. Regent did, however, improve its bathroom layouts on its subsequent ship, Seven Seas Voyager.
Still, the rest of the suite, its great balcony outlook and the complimentary room service from any of the ship's restaurants encourage me to linger in my cabin more than I would on other ships. Many fellow passengers apparently feel the same, since public areas – except at key times such as afternoon tea-and-trivia or evening performances – are quiet. As a result, for a mid-size ship (700 passengers), Mariner feels surprisingly roomy. Shrieking Sallies won't feel much at home here. This is a ship for refined downtime, not rowdy socialising.
Service is hard to fault, efficient rather than overtly friendly, though waitresses such as Princess and Maria buck the trend with their glorious cheerfulness. Bar staff remember personal whims in cocktails, waiters accommodate every fussy change to the menu with can-do calm. Sommeliers fall a little short, their knowledge more by rote than experience, but they provide delightful conversation and enthusiasm. The quality of the complimentary house wines is a notch above other cruise lines. You won't have to spend a cent, though wines can also be purchased by the bottle, and prices aren't unreasonable: around $50 will get you a very decent Argentine malbec-syrah blend.
As usual on cruises, I board grinning like a crocodile at the thought of endless banquets, and disembark like a hippo in clothes suddenly a size too tight. There's more choice in dining than I expect on a mid-size vessel: informal buffet-style La Veranda which converts to Italian Sette Mari restaurant in the evenings, a Pool Grill, occasional themed lunchtime buffets on deck, two specialty restaurants, and main dining venue, Compass Rose.
The latter has menu choices to make me dither: I might start with eggplant involtini stuffed with smoked ham and buffalo mozzarella, move on to a salad of baby greens with grapes, walnuts and crumbled Danish blue, and continue with a main of red snapper with coconut rice. Breads, salads and cheese plates are always excellent. I learn to pass on desserts, generally unsatisfying, though the ship's tarts and cakes are sometimes sublime.
The specialty restaurants only operate in the evenings and, though at no extra cost, require reservations. Prime 7 features prime American seafood and beef soft as butter, and Signatures features fancy French fare. You'll probably get to dine here once, maybe twice, on a cruise, since the maître d is adept at spotting tall tales from those who have dined before and try to sneak in again. Though these restaurants ought to be a category above the regular dining venues, they fall short of providing a memorable experience. Signatures' best assets are two chatty French waiters, with their outrageous accents. For me, Compass Rose is the most consistently good dining option, and memorable for its endlessly changing choices, lovely presentation and quality meals.
Overall, what I love about this ship is its rather retro values, a bit like the New Zealand we're floating through. No flashy outdoor cinemas or climbing walls here. Traditional pastimes include paddle-tennis, putting, bridge and fitness classes, and a flop in the pool or hot tubs. A small casino is the only concession to bling, unless you count the cream- and gold-dusted pastries that drive you to gluttony mid-afternoon. You get a sedate library, card room and spa, and the fabulous two-tier Constellation Theatre that hosts lectures and evening shows as waiters proffer cocktails. Headline acts change during the cruise and feature local talents. Aussie cabaret singer Annie Frances has a fine voice and startling yodelling skills, and New Zealander star Ash Puriri is highly entertaining. Lectures are amusing and informative, especially when Donna Giesler talks astronomy and US television host Lori Verderame chats about the antiques business.
The lack of on-board glitz isn't about snobbery. On the contrary, the ambience on Seven Seas Mariner is unexpectedly relaxed. While shorts, jeans and T-shirts are an evening no-no, smart casual is the only evening dress requirement, which some guests push to its rumpled limit. Others bring out heels and jewellery, and that's OK too. There isn't even any fuss over signing chits or tipping, because everything is included, except the most premium of alcohols.
Regent is certainly six-star in its ability to supply a luxe experience without formality or pretension. It concentrates on what really matters, which is space, comfort and service. Remarkably, 70 per cent of passengers on my cruise are repeat visitors, surely the best endorsement a ship could ask for.
www.rssc.com.au.
Regent Seven Seas Cruises operates three ships, all slightly different, with a fourth, Seven Seas Explorer, launching in the Mediterranean in mid-2016. Seven Seas Mariner sails most of the world. As a rough guide, fares run between $400 and $700 a day a person, depending on the location. Regent has an all-inclusive pricing policy, with fares covering daily shore excursions, specialty restaurants, beverages (apart from the most premium wines and spirits), room service and gratuities. Phone (02) 9265 7100; see www.rssc.com.au.
