What happens when seven-metre waves hit a luxury ocean crossing

I have just experienced the roughest conditions of my 130 cruises, sailing to Dutch Harbour in the Aleutian Islands. This fishing base is not a regular stop on a standard Alaskan cruise; the remote port is mostly visited by expedition ships and vessels repositioning between North America and Asia.

We were scheduled to arrive in the morning but turned up 13 hours late, slowed by strong winds, seven-metre waves and confused seas coming from all directions.

On most cruises, a port visit would be cancelled when conditions prevent a timely arrival. However, we needed to refuel and pick up provisions for the next week at sea.

The captain also wanted passengers to "put your feet on terra firma" before the long crossing to Japan.

Psychologically, this was a good idea. After a bumpy night, we needed the reassurance of solid ground before seven days without it. I was not yet ready to say goodbye to land, especially when it was the setting for one of my favourite TV shows, Deadliest Catch, about crazy crab fishermen battling the Bering Sea.

Close to midnight, a small group of guests disembarked the Seabourn Encore, but there was nothing to do: no taxis, shuttle, shops or pubs within walking distance.

So we grabbed bottles of champagne for an impromptu party on the dock, rugged up in puffer jackets and beanies, until the ship departed at 2am. A most unusual and memorable port call!

Back on board, other passengers slept through it, following a lazy day of room service and watching movies, while outside decks were closed and lifts shut down.

Some people are scared off cruising because they worry about seasickness or safety. But I love "a bit of rock and roll", as the diehards say.

Walking around, the ship feels like a bouncy cloud. The momentum practically carries you up staircases, as if you've developed a semi-flying superpower.