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At 12:30 p.m. we already had to board the Jewel for a 1 p.m. departure. Sydney was nice but very “normal” so we weren’t sure why it ranked as a port of call. It’s located on Cape Breton and is the only other city in Nova Scotia besides Halifax. Every other “city” there is deemed a town or a village. A tour might have explained things for us, but we didn’t take time for one.

That afternoon the clouds and wind increased as we moved south toward New York City. I knew Hurricane Igor was spinning in our direction, having just devastated Bermuda, and was now inching northward. For the first time we experienced significant whitecaps and 15-foot waves instead of the calm ripples of these past many days. The wind howled when our balcony door was opened and it whistled wildly through our room when we simultaneously opened our door to the hallway.

My Shrimp and Swordfish Brochette that evening at Tsar’s was just excellent, and I continued to order vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup for dessert.

Acrobat dancers at the Stardust were awesome, and then the ship’s captains, crew, chefs, and cooks marched single file through the dining hall to our sustained applause. We topped off the evening with a Chocolate Extravaganza up on Deck 12. Decadent. Delicious. And never again!

Allan and I strolled through a few floors and events of the ship and decided our king size bed in front of the television couldn’t be beat. Obviously, we were nearing the end of Our Ocean’s Eleven.

Monday, September 20th. A long day at sea. The morning is gray. Fog hangs over everything and the entire ocean is undulating like a large bowl of warm jello being carried to the refrigerator.

Hurricane Igor is moving up the coast and the sea now carries us in large slow motion movements, first one way and then the other. Some people are getting seasick.

Four of us decide to do what no one else is doing -- go outdoors and play shuffleboard on Deck 7. The wind is fierce. We struggle to push open a door to the outside. But it becomes an hour of fun with Flora’s and not keeping score.

Before dinner we stopped by to hear Sounds of the Sixties and Seventies, then found our table at Tsar’s Palace at 7 p.m. Mauricio, the senior waiter, was once again, and for the last time, taking care of us.

My Popcorn Fried Crawfish was very, very good, as was my ice cream and chocolate. By this time, of course, Mauricio didn’t have to guess at my selection of wine or dessert. He’d simply say, “The usual, madam?” I’d reply, “Yes, thank you.”

In our last farewell, Mauricio shook hands with the men and bent down to hug each of us three women at his table. We had connected with him, and he with us.

Tuesday, September 21st. Our eleventh day. We woke at 6 a.m. with smooth sailing. By 6:15 the horizon had red tones. Sunrise was at 6:43. We were traveling at 17 knots, down from the usual 20 knots. I heard a buoy bell, then spied the tall skyline of New York City that consumed the entire coastline for miles and miles. Every moment seemed a photo. Farewells sadden our hearts and hellos gladden them. Hello, Statue of Liberty!

Click here to continue Our Ocean’s Eleven.