The Ancient Mariners

The S.S. France, the world's longest, largest, fastest ocean liner, is in the Pacific this week, a month into a 91-day round-the-world cruise that includes calls at 27 ports. Aboard are some 1,150 passengers, mostly American or French. Occupying cabins or suites that cost from a minimum of $5,640 to $99,340, they have paid the French Line a total of over $11 million for the cruise, thus setting a new maritime record of sorts. TIME Associate Editor Edwin Bolwell was on board the France as it sailed between New York and Trinidad. Here is his report:

ON most cruises, Neptune is king. On this voyage, Methuselah rules. The average age of the passengers is mid-60s, and when the handful of children and smattering of under-40s is out of sight--which is often--it seems even higher. Also, word leaked out that 31 would-be passengers, mostly elderly, died between the time they booked their cabins and the ship left its home port of Le Havre. (The vacancies were quickly filled.) As a result, the prevailing atmosphere is less glamorous than geratic.

Much of the entertainment contributes to the mood. An early featured movie was the original version of Stagecoach, starring a youthful John Wayne. The ship's closed circuit TV system shows reruns of Ensign O'Toole and Burke's Law. In the main lounges at night, small bands play a lot of tangos and waltzes. There is a discotheque with hotter music, but its floor is often deserted.

Many of the older passengers, however, seemed to enjoy the occasional flashes of vivacity on board. Pretty Patty Sines of West Virginia, in her mid-20s and traveling alone, quickly became the belle of the bateau, bouncing around barefooted and in hot pants by day and in clinging dresses at night. She so contrasted with the other passengers that one American matron inquired: "Tell me, dear, did the French Line pay your way on board to liven things up?"

Some of the more mature passengers also managed to swing, though less overtly. A European blonde in her mid-50s cuddled quietly with five different men on the first five days at sea. A spinster from North America discreetly resumed a four-year-old liaison with a cabin boy. "He might not be an officer," explained one of her friends, "but he is an intelligent cabin boy. And very kind." A few other matrons found comfort with the gaggle of gigolos aboard. Gay liberation was also evident. Punned one ship's officer: "We are carrying both lifeboats and fairies."

Despite the luxury-cruise prices, the S.S. France is more streamlined than elegant. In service since 1962, it was designed primarily to carry 500 first-class and 1,500 tourist passengers on Atlantic crossings; closing some of the smaller cabins for the current cruise did not automatically transform it into a one-class luxury liner. Most of the furniture aboard is covered with functional vinyl, and there is no outdoor swimming pool.

The passengers include retired lawyers, doctors, realtors, a former speechwriter for Franklin D. Roosevelt, a banana exporter from Brazil, a 42-year-old mother of seven from Quebec, and the couple who operate stall 22 at the Flea Market in Nice. But to the obvious disappointment of many passengers, there is hardly a recognizable celebrity to goggle at.

To compensate for the lack of famous faces, there were diverting touches of opulence. One Frenchwoman wore a ring so heavy that she removed it at every meal, apparently to make it easier to lift her knife. Suzanne Barre, a Canadian widow taking her 31st S.S. France voyage, packed 49 evening gowns. Five European couples signed up for $10,000 worth of shore tours,* and Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Wertheimer of Lausanne paid $910 extra to take their pet poodle along. The Alexis Nihon family of Nassau, living in the highest-priced suite, stashed away 25 cases each of Crown Royal Whisky, Seagram's V.O. and sugar-cane brandy to hand out as gifts. Mrs. Cornelius Crane of New York packed her harp. Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Chamberlin of Maine filled a cigarette box in their $73,000 suite with 500 crisp dollar bills for small tips. The Chamberlins also stocked their quarters with a supply of Boston baked beans, peanut butter, fish balls and homemade cranberry jelly. Word about that larder was borne stoically by Chief Chef Henri Le Huede, whose own provisions run to caviar, partridge, grouse and quail.

In addition to activities common to most cruise ships--bingo, toy-horse races, bridge, Ping Pong and shuffle-board--passengers on this voyage are offered classes in art, cooking and wine tasting, as well as classical concerts, lectures on the regions to be visited and 14 costume balls.

If that is not enough to keep them occupied, the passengers can always visit the ship's complement of four doctors and one dentist (normally only two doctors are aboard) and get medical care at standard French government rates, a bargain by U.S. standards. The France's medical contingent, prepared for the ailments of the aged, has already had some surprises. On the first day out of New York, three women inquired about abortions.

* More than 200 Cook's tours are available, ranging from a $5 drive around Colombo to a $1,395 jaunt (by motor coach, plane, car and river launch) between Hong Kong and Bombay. One side trip promoted by the French" Line but as of last week still unapproved by the Chinese government: a two-day visit to Canton.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.