Cruises + Boating Aboard The World of ResidenSea

(continued from above) With that, we decide that a movie on our studio's large flat screen TV is in order. We head on over to the ship's library to check our email and sign out one of the DVDs from their collection.

Breakfast is in The Marina, located at the ship's aft, where we are treated to the usual morning staples that we often crave back home. The chocolate croissants, the omelets and French Toast are spot on. At anchor, the restaurants rear door opens up to become one of the world's largest oceangoing retractable marinas.

We spend morning on land, once again. But we return to the ship for lunch by the pool. There are many empty chairs and chaise lounges around on the deck, which is nice. A man is swimming laps in the pool, alone. And a pair of large water jets at one end of the pool helps simulate a generated water current to extend his swimming laps.

That evening, we dine at East — The World's Asian restaurant. Although a wonderful change of pace, and a fine sake selection, in my opinion, East wasn't all perfect. The cooked meals were terrific, but the sushi was not without some flaws. The rice was slightly dry and the raw fish was somewhat on the tough side — no doubt it had been frozen for some time.

One could argue that The World tries to do too much and usually succeeds. The amount of planning and the level of execution needs to be precise. For instance, on a typical cruise line, there is an end to every trip where the ship can be cleaned, the refrigerators are restocked and all of the supplies can be reordered. On The World, the trip really never ends. Its continuous circumnavigation means that ingredients must be picked up on the go, and stored in specially designed compartments so that the staff can have everything on hand to satisfy nearly any request.

Mornings usually begin with a printed itinerary for the day delivered to your door explaining which restaurants will be open and what lectures and excursions will be available for guests and residents. It also lists information on the ship's schedule during its stay in port.

The World takes on a leisurely schedule — designed by the residents themselves — of moving from port to port. Your average cruise might only spend one or two days in one location, but The World will typically spend three to six days at popular destinations. This can often provide an exclusive address for some of the world's most sought after events. Valencia for the America's Cup and Carnival in Rio de Janeiro are typical stops for The World.

The destinations also tend to be somewhat more exotic and adventurous as the boat rarely spends more than a handful of days at sea each month. This means stops at remote destinations like the ports of Walvis Bay just prior to visiting Lüderitz in Namibia. Or when in Scandanavia, Visby and then on to Hudiksvall in Sweden.

To accommodate the special requests and individual private arrangements on land, The World has an onboard Abercrombie & Kent representative who takes on the role of concierge. The impressive rolodex of contacts and a keen understanding of every destination provides residents and guests with the ability to design unique excursions at any time.

Life aboard the world seems to be the closest thing to having a floating block of Manhattan's upper east side that travels to every desirable harbor you can think of. It's hard to imagine this comparison, but we sort of get the idea when we pass by the Graff Jeweler's store on Deck 5 of The World — right across from the The World's gift shop. The jeweler, we are told, has a multi-million dollar onboard inventory and regularly acquires stones from Africa, Australia and other suitable trading posts for that sort of thing.

Beyond the House of Graff lies Fredy's Deli, an international gourmet shop — named in honor of the CEO of ResidenSea, Frédy Dellis. It's stocked with nearly 500 everyday necessities such as newspapers, fresh breads and pastries, cereal, milk, mustard, Beluga caviar, foie gras and other typical groceries. Usually the shop will cater wine tasting events and serve fresh crêpes and sandwiches for those looking for a quick bite.

The front end of this deck houses an enormous spa by Clinique La Prairie which offers about 60 or so different treatments: Thalatherm, Endermologie, Vichy showers, Hydrotherapy and so on. It's beyond ridiculous. However, given that most residents are well into their retirement, it makes sense when you consider that Clinique La Prarie considers themselves to be a leader in anti-aging therapy. Who knows if any of it works though. Some of the treatments involve contraptions right out of a science-fiction novel.

But, the spa also offers an impressive range of massages, body wraps, reflexology, training programs, and salon services, and is a popular destination on the rare occasions when the ship at sea during the day. You'll need a reservation in advance no matter what you want to book.

Golfing is also a big past time on The World. The golf pro's main duties is to arrange itineraries to the best country clubs and golf courses throughout the world. In between ports, residents can also practice their drive in simulators or right off of the deck with Eco-balls that biodegrade when they are soaked in water.

Unfortunately, the guest suites are all located on Deck 6 — which isn't quite far enough away from the anchor. It can be quite jarring when the chains are unfurling from a nearby compartment at 6AM. To their credit, when we first checked in, they did warn us about the early morning noise. This would explain why the larger and more expensive apartments are much higher above the anchor noise. Other than that unavoidable issue, the overall minimization of vibration and engine noise is generally quite good.

One of The World's lesser known amenities - the laundry room - is a nice touch. Specially made side-loading washers and driers automatically dispense eco-friendly detergent with the push of a button. Within a little over an hour we have replenished our supply of clean clothes for the rest of our vacation. It's rare, but sometimes the most helpful amenities are just a having access to the things you take for granted at home.

For our final dinner aboard The World, we manage to secure a reservation at Portraits — a French haute cuisine restaurant that has been striving for a Michelin star since it has opened. Space is limited here and it appears as though each table only has one seating per evening. The five-course all truffle menu sounds amazing and a bit over the top. It's delicious all the same. Dishes are served with silver lids lifted to display their treasures in unison. The truffled macaroni & cheese. It's served in tiny small copper saucepan and is sumptuous, airy and creamy — almost having the consistency of scrambled eggs. The truffle crème brûlée is excellent. But, by the end of the evening, we're completely truffled out.

There are a number of residents dining here this evening. The residents are usually easy to spot and tend to keep to themselves. That disconnect between the residents and the guests onboard is what enables everyone to maintain their privacy. And it works just fine for us as well.

A few years back, the guest suites used to be more fairly priced and there were a number of well-reported incidents in the press of guests creating all sorts of mess and noise. The residents moved to make the guest suites less accessible to riffraff by raising the rental prices considerably and reducing the number of guest suites. (Luckily for us, we booked our reservations before the rates skyrocketed.)

While one might think that this history of tension between residents and guests would make things uncomfortable. It's really not the case at all. With the ship holding so few people at the moment, privacy is well respected and everyone is as cordial as can be. Though, I suspect that most guests experience The World with a bit of ignorant bliss — enjoying the amazing food, service and amenities — all while the residents try to ignore the guests.

As we disembark, the staff stops by to take all of our bags and suitcases from our room. When our tender reaches the dock, one of the staff informs us that the hotel will not be coming down to the dock to retrieve our bags. Without hesitation, the ship's porter grabs our suitcases and wheels them up through the middle of the town, to the car park and waits with us until the hotel's transport arrives. We do our best to compensate him for his efforts, but he vehemently denies our gratuity.

That kind of friendliness and helpfulness was all too common aboard The World. The hotel's driver arrives — completely unhelpful in comparison — looks as though he's expecting a tip. Back to reality.