It was a schedule I could easily get used to.
Up at dawn, four times around the deck to make a mile. On return, my butler set out a fine breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, marmalade, fresh strawberries, and coffee in my private dining room.
Thus passed a week at the Mad Hedge Norwegian Fjord Strategy Seminar.
The HMS Queen Victoria had a coming-out party of its own. The ship was mothballed for two years because of the pandemic. Cunard used it to house grounded crew. This was only the second post-pandemic cruise.
As a result, more than half the crew were trainees, leaning their craft at your expense. The crew has gone all Filipino to save money. Nice people, but when you book Cunard, you expect to get at least a few limeys with their stiff British upper lips.
I couldn’t ask for more entertaining and knowledgeable guests.
One gentleman was the CEO of Party America, the world’s largest manufacturer and distributor of costumes. In a week, I learned more about the costume business than I ever thought I’d know. Manufacturing in Madagascar and selling around the world?
Who knew?
After an initial hit, the costume business boomed during the pandemic because people stayed at home and threw their own parties. It turns out that their business is driven by Hollywood films released two years down the road. The biggest all-time seller?
You guessed it, Harry Potter. But which one?
The company’s biggest risk was the 70th anniversary of the coronation of Queen Elisabeth II this year. Should they take the risk and mass-produce costumes knowing that there was only a 1:5 actuarial chance she would make it to 96? In the end, the Queen came through and they sold a staggering 1.5 million costumes, making millions.
Another guest was a northern English subcontractor who produced the M777 155 mm artillery piece widely used by the US Marine Corps. I know it well. No better way to land a lot of steel on a 20-mile target. Except that the newest version is made mostly of titanium, cutting its weight by half so it can be easily carried by helicopters.
I never stop learning.
The week had its own pleasant routine. We woke up each morning deep in a Norwegian fjord, bound by steep green mountains dotted with cottages and sheep farms. It all looked like a chocolate box cover. I walked into the village every day to eat lunch (lots of fish) and absorb the local economy and culture.
Then in the evening, we cast off ropes and sailed overnight to the next fjord. At 65 degrees north latitude, darkness didn’t fall on us until 11:00 PM and then while we were still asleep the sun rose at 3:30 AM. It never got completely dark, so the blindfolds came in handy.
Internet access was a problem. At this high latitude, you needed at least a 20-degree angle to reach geostationary equatorial satellites. That’s not possible when your ship was hugged by the steepest mountains on both sides. I could only collect email when we were on the open North Sea at night.
A wonderful time was had by all, and we dutifully exchanged contact information before we returned to home port in Southampton. On the ground, I shipped back a 50-pound suitcase with three tuxes, as every dinner was black tie. Definitely not needed for mountain climbing in Switzerland.
My bag is now struck in Los Angeles customs because nobody believed in this day and age that a guy could own three tuxes.
The Fjord seminar was such a success that I have already reserved another for 2023, the Mad Hedge Transatlantic Strategy Seminar, which I haven’t done for 11 years. It departs from New York City on July 7 and arrives in Southampton, England on July 14, 2023. Cunard refers to it as cruise M319 and I have already booked the owner’s suite, as I usually do.
I’ll see you there.
