Last Saturday, 02 December, the Good Mrs. Benson and I returned home from a seven-day cruise on board Seven Seas Mariner. On other threads, Mariner has been the source of some dismay, regarding functioning systems, the quality of food, and a general state of degradation. This post is not meant to challenge any of those findings by others who have sailed on Mariner. This is simply an account of our experience, not our first cruise, but our first with Regent Seven Seas.
Pre-Cruise.
Almost all of our pre-cruise preparations were handled on the Regent website, and most of the functions there did not become available until after we paid the cruise fare in full.
A new situation for us was Regent's all-inclusive approach to covering our air travel and ground transportation, along with---because we had booked a concierge suite---our hotel stay the night before sailing. Ordinarily, I handle all of these logistics myself, but I was willing to see how well Regent handled these details. My biggest concern was, when I handled these things, I always reserved the hotel and our air tickets at the beginning of the year, a good ten months before the sail date. That avoided being shut out of the flights we wanted, or a hotel we preferred. The dates for contacting Regent to make these preparations were slightly less than five months before our sail date. I have to admit, the tighter envelope made me somewhat apprehensive, but as it developed, it caused no problems.
I identified the flights to and from Miami, and as soon as the date opened to schedule our air tickets with Regent, I called the representative. She was gracious and incredibly helpful. She booked us on the flights we desired with no issues. Of course, they were seats at the least expensive economy-class level. The rep informed me that I could seek a higher class of seating and pay the difference out of pocket, but not until 09 September---which was the date that Regent actually paid the airline for the booking. That meant a little more sweating---we wanted to fly first class and I had to hope that there would be seats left in first class on 09 September. Fortunately, on 09 September, almost every first-class seat on those flights was still available, and I bumped our seats up accordingly.
As soon as we paid the entire cruise fare, in June, Regent sent us our invoices, upon which was listed the hotel for our stay the night before the cruise: the Miami InterContinental. Coïncidentally, that was the same hotel that the Good Mrs. Benson selected (I always leave accommodations to her reliable taste), before she knew that Regent would be handling that chore. So, I knew the Miami InterContinental was a good establishment.
That left scheduling our two reservations in the on-board specialty restaurants, Prime 7 and Chartreuse. That could be done on line, but our date to do that didn't open until August, at 2000 (8 p.m.) on that date. I knew competition for two-tops at an early hour would be tight, so I sat down at the computer on that evening and checked in precisely at 2000. I got into the system with no problem. The system for making the reservations was intuitive, but I'm still something of a klutz when it comes to figuring out such things. I had to change the dates of our reservations a couple of times because of my misreading how the system worked, and the slowness of the response led me to believe that many, many other people were also trying to make their dining reservations at the same time. Nevertheless, I succeeded in getting both reservations for a two-top at the time we wanted, 1830.
The final check-in was permitted a week before the sail date. That was no different than what I'd experienced with other cruise lines. I took care of myself and the GMB, at work, in about five minutes.
Our plan was to have one large garment bag shipped ahead to the ship by Luggage Forward and bring with us one carry-on bag. Luggage Forward picked up the garment bag a week before the sail date.
Outside of my unease at having to wait so long to make the air and hotel reservations, the pre-cruise details went as easily as expected. All of our telephone dealings with Regent---the GMB called its reps a couple of times to make changes to our excursion plans---were completed efficiently and very graciously by the Regent reps.
Flight.
No issues, either to Miami or back. We misjudged packing, though---we should have packed more in the garment bag handled by Luggage Forward. We ended up with two carry-ons, one of which we checked through the airline instead of lugging it around ourselves. That proved to be wise, because we had a murderous hike through the Miami airport---we had to walk forty-seven gates to get to baggage claim, where the Regent rep handling our ground transportation would be waiting. At the baggage claim, the Regent rep was, indeed, standing by. As soon as we collected our checked bag, and two other couples who were also taking the same cruise did so, as well, the rep escorted us to a waiting van and drove us to the Miami InterContinental. I was impressed at Regent's efficiency there. No flailing around, looking for the rep; she was right there.
Hotel.
Some posters in other threads expressed dismay over the lodgings that Regent had assigned to them. However, there was nothing to complain about the Miami InterContinental. It's a modern, upscale hotel. We were escorted directly to the front desk and checked in fairly quickly. Our assigned room was spacious and clean and nicely appointed. I've stayed in more elegant accommodations, but there was absolutely nothing to complain about this room, especially as we weren't paying for it. I give the room four stars, but as far as the hotel staff went, they got five stars for their efficiency and graciousness.
In the lobby was a Regent desk manned by two women who provided us with all the details for luggage delivery and our transportation to the ship the next day. They provided the Regent guests staying there with a sheet of detailed instructions. That's something I appreciated; I like knowing exactly when and where to proceed.
As we did at the airport, we decided to check the larger carry-on through the ship. We were instructed to leave it outside our room door at 0700 the next morning, where it would be retrieved and sent on to the ship. We did, and it was.
The next day, transportation to the ship was the first instance in which a snag occurred. Our reporting time to the port terminal was 1130, but, due to some accident on the pier, the bus . . . I'm sorry, "motor coach" . . . ferrying our group of Regent passengers to the terminal didn't arrive until 1145. We were lucky; we just made the cut-off for the first bus . . . er . . . motor coach.
In the future, we'll take a cab or an Über. The expense is worth avoiding all the hassle.
We arrived at terminal J in about seven minutes.
Embarkation.
I'll tell you, I cannot give a total picture of how long embarkation would've been for the average Regent passenger. That's because I use a cane.
I have arthritic knees. My right one's not so bad, but my left knee can be murder. Oh, I get around the house, or a store, or a restaurant, decently enough unaided. But when I know I've got considerable walking to do, I use a cane. As I could expect to do a lot of walking---through airports, hotels, port terminals, and, of course, on the ship---I was using mine during embarkation.
We got past the initial document check and the security check pretty quickly, in about five or six minutes, actually. Once past the security checkpoint, someone was there to check our boarding time. As it was already well past 1130, we were directed immediately to the line of boarding passengers waiting to check in with the Regent reps. There were about thirty folks ahead of us.
It's at this point that I cannot give a fair estimation of how long it would've taken us to be processed normally. We had just joined the line---I hadn't even had a chance to gauge how quickly or slowly the line was moving---when a Regent rep approached us, touched my arm, and directed us straight toward a separate desk. It was the check-in desk for passengers with special needs. I hadn't requested it; I didn't even know there was such a thing. The Regent gal had simply seen my cane and took it upon herself to guide us to the special needs counter.
Our documents were verified and we were handed our key cards to the ship, and pointed in the direction of the gangway. We hadn't even been in the terminal for ten minutes.
My next concern was the Good Mrs. Benson. Her knees are actually worse than mine, and our previous experiences with walking on board the ship meant going about five-hundred feet of upward-sloping walkways. I enquired about a wheelchair for her, but she assured me that she could manage without one. So, we headed for the brow. That's when I discovered one of the advantages of a smaller ship like Mariner. There wasn't five minutes of walking up a wending incline. The gangway was right there, almost level to the ship, and only about twenty-five feet from pier to ship---a quick and easy walk, even for us.
We reported on board, the officer at the quarterdeck zapped our key cards with his zapper, and we followed the red carpet on to the ship.
It got even easier. The entryway was on deck six, right in front of the entrance to the Constellation Theatre, which happened to be our muster station for the lifeboat drill. So, we were able to do our muster immediately upon entering---one less detail we'd have to take care of later.
We were informed that the suites would not be ready for occupation until around 1300 (1 p.m.). We escorted to the Starlight Lounge, which provided a baggage check for our carry-on. Then, we were directed to deck eleven, where the Pool Bar, the Pool Grill, and the buffet, La Veranda, awaited us. We grabbed something to eat at the buffet, then went up one deck, to the Observation Lounge, for a drink, to relax, and congratulate ourselves at making it on board.
At 1305 came an announcement that the suites were ready for occupation.
Our Suite.
When I booked this cruise in February, 2022, I chose suite 919 for its accessibility. From photos I'd seen, the standard concierge suite looked too cramped---the foot of the bed was too close to the bulkhead to even walk easily by, let alone use the electric scooter I had rented for the Good Mrs. Benson. Suite 919 had the additional benefits of being amidships and close to the atrium elevator.
Suite 919 appeared to be approximately fifty square feet larger than the standard concierge suite, with a different layout. 919 opened into the sitting area first, then the bed, and the balcony beyond. Opposite the foot of the bed was the desk and mini-bar. As I'd hoped, the space between the foot of the bed and the desk was more than sufficient to allow an electric scooter to pass. And the scooter I had rented for the GMB was already there.
There was no closet; just a large cabinet which would accommodate long items, such as a cocktail dress, but that was good enough for us.
On our previous cruises, we'd stayed in larger suites, but this didn't seem like a step down, thanks to its arrangement and the fact that it was designed for space to move around. Even the bathroom was roomier than we were accustomed to.
On another thread, I posted photos of the suite. Here's the link:
https://boards.cruisecritic.com/topic/2970560-accessible-stateroom/?do=findComment&comment=66534913
Certainly, the appearance of the suite was a generation old. It did not appear fresh or modern. However, it was in good condition. Nothing appeared threadbare or worn out or neglected. It was clean and well maintained. Moreover, we did not experience any of the toilet system issues or plumbing issues or bilge odours that passengers on Mariner before and since our voyage have reported.
My only real complaint about the suite was that the bed was a shade too short. I'm 6'3", and I hate it when my feet dangle over the edge of the bed.
The ship.
Mariner is the smallest cruise ship on which we have sailed. That made it easier for me to get around, even when I had to walk the length of it.
Like our suite, the ship had a vintage appearance, yet it was no less elegant for that. Every space appeared clean and well tended. The brightwork was polished. The furniture was comfortable and showed no need of repair. I'm not saying that there weren't places where the years and the wear and tear didn't show. It's simply that nothing of that nature was so stark that it jumped out at me.
For those who care about such things, as the GMB does, there are three smoking sections on the ship. A small section of the open-air Pool Bar on deck eleven; a small enclosed section off the Horizon Lounge, on deck six, all the way aft; and the Connoisseur Club on deck six. I'm not a smoker, but I did enjoy a cigar in the Connoisseur Club on the last night.
One thing calls for particular mention: the elevators. Unlike our previous experiences on ships of other lines, the elevators on Mariner were quick---we seldom waited more than a minute or so for a car to arrive---and they were rarely crowded, except for the two peak times, embarkation and debarkation.
The population.
The general age-range of the passengers was forty-to-eighty years of age, with a spike at about sixty-five years old. I saw a few souls on board younger than forty and only one child, in a stroller. Most of the folks to whom I talked were retired or on the cusp of it, and quite a few were, like myself, retired military.
The population of travellers was well behaved, both in groups and as individuals. There were no incidences of loud, boisterous gatherings or disruptive revelry. Even such evolutions as mustering to go ashore in port or reporting to customs in the theatre or lining up to debark on that last morning were orderly and considerate. I think that goes to the general maturity and age of the folks on board. In fact, I was impressed at how convivial the passengers behaved toward each other.
Another indicator of the sense of responsibility among the passengers was the fact that, on two occasions, the ship got underway from its port visits early. That could have happened only if all the passengers had returned by the "all aboard" time or sooner. In other words, no pier runners.
The food.
I have to be honest here. Both the GMB and I found the food uneven. In some cases it was excellent, but in others it was lacklustre. At no time was the food ever bad, but too many times it was unremarkable, especially when one would think one of the drawing cards for a luxury cruise line would be the food. Here's a breakdown, from best to worst.
PRIME 7. The best dining experience we enjoyed on the ship. The filet mignon was delicious and cooked properly to temp for both of us. The sides were robust and flavourful. A small thing, but one I appreciated: they did not skimp on the butter when the bread was brought to the table. My only downcheck about Prime 7 was not food related; it was that the tables were squeezed a bit too close together.
CHARTREUSE. Also fine quality. The clam chowder was hearty and practically a meal on its own. I got the Dover sole; the GMB, the lobster. I cannot stand capers, but they were easily scrapeable from the sole fillet, which was grilled to a nice brown patina and accompanied by a rich butter sauce. The GMB's lobster was prepared perfectly, with no trace of the grittiness that sometimes accompanies an inadequately cooked lobster.
COMPASS ROSE. The main dining room. We ate there once for breakfast, once for lunch, and once for dinner. The breakfast and the dinner were high quality and delicious. I wish we had eaten dinner there more often, rather than being lazy and ordering room service. The lunch, however, for both of us, was Denny's quality. Not bad, but nothing remarkable.
LA VERANDA. The breakfast and luncheon buffet. Every day provided a menu of chef's specialties, along with salad items, assorted breads and deli meats, fruits, and starches. We found the food to be unexceptional. Again, not bad, but not much above the level of Golden Corral (with the exception of one night, which I'll discuss below). Breakfast was better than the lunch offerings, but not without criticism---the scrambled eggs were too soft and the omelettes were slightly undercooked.
Two downchecks to add. One, along with the chef's specialties on the daily menu, there should be, but there wasn't, a standard selection of "plain" food offerings, such as hamburgers, hot dogs, fried chicken, because not every day does one want a gourmet repast. Two, and the configuration of the ship probably forces this, but there is only one corridor for the diners to pass through while they select what they want to eat. It's a little tight, making it difficult to turn or stop without causing others to suddenly halt. One time, there were two ladies in front of me in the line. They filled their plates, then suddenly whirled to go back to their table. I had to press back so fast that everything almost spilled off my plate.
There was one night when the buffet rose above what we had come to expect. We had not yet sampled its Italian fare at night, when it converts to Sette Mari for dinner service. We finally decided to do so on the last night, only to discover that, for that night, it was not Sette Mare, but remained a buffet serving country-style foods such as fried chicken, buffalo wings, pork sliders, and barbeque. That's the GMB's department---she was raised in the South---but she found everything the buffet offered that night to be exceptionally well prepared and delicious. I made three trips to the buffet for the buffalo wings. I took them without sauce, so they were just plain chicken wings, and I have never eaten chicken wings so tasty. That was the level of food that La Veranda should have been serving all along.
ROOM SERVICE. That was an especial disappointment. Over three nights, we sampled quite a bit of the room service menu and found it completely uninspiring. By the third time we called for room service, I was ready to just go somewhere for dinner on board, but the GMB was down for the night. We settled on hamburgers from room service, even though I'd gotten one before and it was blah. However, this time was a complete surprise; the burgers we received were flavourful, juicy, perfectly prepared. It kept our room service experience from being a complete disaster.
Entertainment.
I cannot speak to the nighttime entertainment on board Mariner. I wish I could. I wanted to. The problem is the Good Mrs. Benson has a peculiar sleep schedule. She's sound asleep by 2030 (8:30 p.m.), then awakens in the wee hours, around 0200. She tried to wean herself into a more conventional sleep pattern for the cruise, but it just didn't work. She fell asleep at the table the night we dined at Chartreuse. The one show I really wanted to see what a salute to Broadway tunes in the Constellation Theatre, but it didn't start until 2130 (9:30 p.m.) and the GMB just couldn't hang. Oh, she insisted that we go, but I couldn't have her sitting there snoring through the performance.
As far as daytime entertainment, I found Mariner came up a little short. One of the things that the GMB and I realised after our previous cruises was that we did not take advantage of the daytime courses, games, performances, and so forth that had been posted in the plan-of-the-day. So, we were going to take advantage of it on Mariner, since we didn't plan on going ashore much, anyway. But, there wasn't much of that sort of thing in Mariner's POD. There was usually an enrichment lecture in the morning and trivia at 1630. Ping-pong, shuffleboard, and the putting green didn't hold allure for us. As a result, we wound up going ashore more often than we'd expected.
I must say, the trivia was fun, although, based on things I'd read, I expected it to be much more cutthroat than what it was. The GMB and I acted as our own team. Over the week, we managed to earn a dozen points that we could turn in for "valuable prizes", but since I've got all the keychains and baseball caps I need, I gave our point cards to one of the other teams.
Service.
This is where Mariner shone brightest. Without exception, every member of the crew or staff who dealt with us was incredibly gracious and helpful. And not just because it was their jobs to do so, but because they wanted to do so. They were proactive. If I happened to glance at the buffet table while we were eating in La Veranda, suddenly a waiter would appear, asking, "May, I get you something, sir?" Wherever we went, if a member of the crew happened to be there, we never had to open a door or push an elevator button or pull out a chair.
I mentioned that we were in our suite on embarkation day by a little after 1300. By 1400, both of our bags, the one we checked at the hotel and the one transported by Luggage Forward, had been delivered to our suite. That's when our room steward, or I should say, stewardess, Brigitte, presented herself. This lady was a dynamo. She took down our desires for what beverages to stock in the mini-bar. She instructed us on the procedures for laundry and dry cleaning, ensuring that we could get it back the same day. She checked in with us several times each day to see if we needed something.
And she always seemed to be there when we unexpectedly needed her. One evening, our key cards failed to work because the battery which operated the lock system had died. Before I could scratch my head, suddenly Brigitte appeared, diagnosed the problem, called a security man to come up and replace the battery. And he was there in five minutes.
Another night, I had accidentally stained the lapel of my sport coat with butter sauce from lobster at dinner. As we exited the elevator outside our suite, Brigitte was there, saw the problem, and took my jacket, saying it'd be back in the morning, dry cleaned. And it was.
I believe if I had said to her, "I'd like a roast beef grinder from Giovanni's in Newport, Rhode Island," she'd have found a way for the kitchen to make me one.
This level of attention and service from her and all of the staff and crew is the principle reason why the Good Mrs. Benson and I took this cruise. We didn't care about the itinerary or even necessarily what was taking place on board. We wanted one week of pampering and indulgence, to have the experience of being treated like royalty without having to ask for it.
Debarkation.
The fastest debarkation we've had. We put two bags outside our door the night before. In the morning, we were expected to be out of our suite by 0800. It was almost that time and there had been no announcement about the brow being open for debarking. So, we left and went down to deck six, where people were milling about smartly. Everybody, it seemed, was looking for the line, until somebody said, "There was no line." So, we made one. Nobody rushed to be first; it wasn't a mob. We just lined up off the quarterdeck, waiting for the word to debark. The GMB and I were about the tenth and eleventh persons in line.
About two minutes later came the announcement that debarking was commencing for folks in a particular number and colour group---fortunately, it was our number and colour group. We crossed the brow, went down one deck to where the luggage was assembled, found our bags. A porter helped us with them. We got waved through customs, and once outside, the agent from Luggage Forward was there to take our bag for transport home. About five minutes after that, we were in a cab to the airport. I don't think it was fifteen minutes from the time we stepped off the ship until we were seated in the back of that cab.
Conclusion.
We enjoyed our experience on Mariner. Our main desire, a week of relaxation and indulgence, was accomplished. But did Regent make an impact on us as a luxury cruise line? I would have to say "no". At least, not as much as we'd expected.
To be sure, we're not walking away disappointed. We enjoyed our cruise, and we know all the things the ship did so very well and to make us feel special. But the ship also fell down in some areas where we expected more. It didn't quite reach that peak of luxury that one expects from a luxury cruise line.
I'll say one thing, though: we'll always remember the kindness and courtesy and the willingness to serve of Mariner's staff and crew. There, Regent is top drawer.
Battlement, Sorry to be late to the party, and even sorrier to hear of your poor experience with your butler. Alas, you're undergoing the cruise nightmare that I fretted over when we booked our first Haven cruise on Norwegian Joy two years ago. You know how when you buy a new car---you've done your homework, and the auto you've selected has a reputation for fine quality and all the reviews insist that it's a great car. Still, you have this niggling worry that you got the one lemon that rolled off the assembly line at the moment when the quality-control guy was on the phone having an argument with his wife. It's the same kind of worry about what kind of experience one will have on a cruise. For our cruise on Joy, we selected a Haven suite off the Haven proper (only a minute's elevator ride away from the Haven and a larger suite than the standard Haven courtyard suite for a less expensive price). Following sthrngary's advice, I prepared a butler letter. Early in this thread is some brouhaha over tipping butlers in advance ("It's a bribe!" declared some; "So, what?" was my opinion.) I believe I was the first in that minor discussion to declare I was going to tip my butler half up front, enclosed with my butler letter, and the rest at the end of the cruise, with my fingers crossed that we would get a good butler. Fortunately for us, our experience with our butler, Mr. Willie Erum, was 180-degrees-out from yours. He was exceptional, and he got more than his promised half of the tip at the end of the cruise. Still, for our upcoming cruise in November---same ship, same suite, because the Good Mrs. Benson enjoyed it so much---we have the same fear. As the financial ads always warn, "Past performance is no guarantee of future results." And your unfortunate experience drives home the fact that there are clunkers in NCL's butler staffs. Thus, I am very sympathetic toward your dismaying experience. I hope that it's a one-off situation in your cruising history. One other reason why we've opted to go back with Norwegian is that, with NCL's military discount, the fare for our upcoming cruise is actually slightly less than the fare for the first one. Even so, I am investigating alternatives for our next voyage. The Yacht Club on MSC ships looks promising. I trust your recent experience hasn't soured you on cruising in general. With luck, you got the one bad time out of the way. Everybody with multiple cruises under their belts here probably has one instance in which the service fell 'way below expectations. As you noted, we all share your regret for yours. Lastly, in one of your later posts, you noted, "Oh, you and the others on this board have been tremendously empathetic! I was telling my wife that it’s really awesome to have this board to share perspectives, respectfully, with folks who just want to have the best experiences possible." I believe that's what keeps folks coming back and reading/posting to this thread started by sthrngary: it meets the true definition of forum, as a place where people of good will come together for a respectful, mutual exchange of ideas. Wishing you better luck on your next cruise, sir. Respectfully, Commander "No, I'm not dead, gang" Benson
