Cruise ship that makes Titanic look a minnow
And, as it docks in Britain, our man braves its thrilling (and terrifying) 100ft slide
What on earth will these cruise ship companies conjure up next? Not so long ago, they were busy launching floating cities with an improbable number of pubs, restaurants, swimming pools and even adventure playgrounds.
then along came theme parks, shopping malls, surf simulators, aqua theatres, robotic barmen, zip lines and faux forests with canned birdsong.
Now? Well, I am standing on a glass platform on Deck 17 of the newest and biggest cruise ship the world has ever seen — and I’m about to crawl into a stainless steel tube and hurtle down the tallest slide at sea, arriving (hopefully) on the boardwalk 100 ft below.
Royal Caribbean has invited me to be the first member of the public to experience the Ultimate abyss before the 1,188ft cruise ship harmony Of the Seas is due to dock at 5.30am today at Southampton in preparation for her maiden voyage next week.
tens of thousands watched from the shore and from a multitude of little boats as she left Saint-Nazaire in Brittany yesterday. the ship’s three pilots have been trained on simulators to cope with the job of manoeuvring her into port.
‘all set?’ shouts the slide’s German project manager, Dr Stephan Spiller. ‘absolutely!’ I shout back with bravado.
It reminds me of the scene in the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid when, just before the two outlaws leap off a cliff into a swirling river, Sundance (Robert Redford) turns to Butch (Paul Newman) and says: ‘I can’t swim.’ For me, it’s: ‘I can’t do heights.’
No matter, I tell myself. Just enjoy the views across the Loire in Saint-Nazaire, where the ship has been built, and marvel at the engineering of this 227,000-ton sea monster.
the Ultimate abyss takes the form of a ferocious anglerfish with a huge dorsal fin and two spindly bodies.
to reach the double tubes, you walk past the aptly named Wipeout Bar and climb some stairs that take you through the fish’s open mouth, complete with 40 giant pointed teeth, until you reach the glass floor.
You are handed a black mat with an open sack at one end into which you place your feet.
You then lean back while holding on to a strap and wait for the ‘Go’ sign to turn green.
anyone less than 3ft 8in tall or weighing more than 23st is not allowed down the Ultimate abyss.
I am short, but unfortunately not that short, and I’m overweight, but can’t claim to top the scales quite to that extent. In other words, there’s no escape.
So I am reduced to delaying tactics by asking all sorts of nerdy questions. the green ‘Go’ light keeps flashing, but I’m going nowhere.
‘how long does it take to get down?’
‘12.5 seconds is the record, but 14 seconds is normal,’ says Dr Spiller in that wonderful matter-of-fact Germanic way. ‘how fast do you go?’ ‘You can reach speeds of 35kph [22mph].’ ‘Is it completely dark in there?’ ‘there are a number of light options, with three colour modes and one variable mode. You will also hear a lot of different sounds — but do feel free to scream.’
Many thanks. actually, I can’t wait to get off this windswept platform at the stern of the ship — 150ft above sea level — even if it means twisting and turning down a tube with minimum head room. So I shuffle forward on the mat, holding on to the strap as if clinging to life itself.
‘a little further,’ advises Dr Spiller, and it strikes me this must be how the cartoon Road Runner felt when he sprinted off the edge of a cliff and hung in mid-air, knowing he was about to plunge to his doom.
and suddenly I’m off! the first turn is steep and dark, then there’s a straight section with bright, silver lighting. Quite pleasant, in fact — until I plunge again sharply, my weight lending momentum to the downward spiral.
as I plummet, I can’t sit up when I try because the forces press me against the sides.
I have a good old scream as the seconds tick by and close my eyes as I roar towards Deck 5.
this helter skelter on steroids spits me out on the boardwalk — panting, but exhilarated — where I come to a gradual stop on the flat of the deck and find myself sandwiched between a hamburger joint called Johnny Rocket and a tequila bar called Sabor.
I can see a quaint and gentle carousel in the distance and behind me is the aqua theatre, where professional divers will perform dare-devil stunts of the kind that would make tom Daley’s double pike with twist look tame.
Job done — and I’m ready to rumble in the jungle of harmony’s seven separate ‘neighbourhoods’ and explore what £800 million buys you in the world of humungous cruise ships.
Stand this one up on its stern and it would soar way above the Shard in London, the Eiffel tower in Paris and the Burj al arab luxury hotel in Dubai. It is 330ft longer than the titanic and can carry a human cargo of 8,880, of whom 6,780 will be paying customers and 2,100 crew from 77 countries.
Getting lost is not an issue because you are given GPS-style wristbands that track your whereabouts. If little Johnny wanders into the Bionic Bar and orders a double mojito or wants to vanish into the adults-only Solarium, his parents will quickly be alerted.
there are 16 restaurants, including Jamie’s Italian — and Jamie Oliver himself will be on board for the first official sailing on May 22.
One restaurant is called Wonderland and is themed on alice In Wonderland. Built on two floors, it invites you to ‘venture down the rabbit hole’ and then pick from the ‘molecular’ menu (in other words, a clever fusion of science and cooking), where instead of courses you order from categories — ‘fire, ice, earth, water and dreams’.
Swimming pools are everywhere, in all shapes and sizes, with three water slides (one features a huge champagne bowl that whizzes guests around before dispatching them through the final flume). this
I have a good old scream in this helter skelter on steroids
is in the Perfect Storm zone near Splashaway Bay, where younger children can, well, splash away.
In the 1,300-seater main theatre, there will be West End performances of Grease, and the indoor ice rink should be a good place to cool off if the excitement becomes too intense elsewhere.
New York’s Central Park is on board, with more than 10,000 trees and plants, flanked by shops ranging from Kate Spade and Bulgari to Cartier and Hublot.
Size matters on the Harmony Of The Seas. Less is never more.
There are nearly 3,000 cabins (sorry, staterooms) — for which prices start at around £900 per person for a week’s cruise up to £2,760 for a luxury suite — some with bunk beds for families with children, and most have balconies.
Those without windows or a port hole have ‘virtual balconies’ — realtime footage of the views outside, streamed through the TV.
Back at the Ultimate Abyss, Dr Spiller tells me the speed and scariness of the ride is affected by the weather and by how warm the steel becomes. The hotter it is, the less friction — and the faster you go.
Nearly a couple of hours have gone by since my descent — and the weather has improved. Apparently, the ride is speeding up nicely.
‘So,’ he says, ‘would you like another go?’
‘Very kind, but I think I might try the carousel instead.’