Captain Delmar Rose stood in the companionway outside the Grand Salon, watched the chefs setting up the long table of cold cuts and other delicacies that were set out nightly as a midnight snack for those passengers who hadn’t gotten enough at the dinner table.
There was ham and turkey, hors d’oeuvres of every type—fish, pâtés, shrimp, crabmeat, lobster all nestled on finely crushed ice; there were out of season delicacies, caviar, cold cuts of every conceivable type. Already, in the background, a line was forming of those who were only an hour or two away from the dining table.
On every cruise there is a select group known as the Gobblers. These are the gourmands who infest every ship, who do most of their sightseeing via the menus, testing and tasting every item, monopolizing the servi
