Early in the morning—well, at 7:30 or so, a clatter arose in 9000 that brought both B⁴ and me wide awake. We had arrived in Mykonos harbor and, being assigned to Penthouse 9000, we are directly above the anchors. When the anchor chain on a ship this size is let loose to bang and clang against the metal housing from the locker to the sea, a good bit of noise occurs. Yesterday in Santorini we were far removed from our suite but this day we were abed. But not for long. It takes a while to anchor a ship this size and we were aware of every clank of every link of the chain. Good morning, sweetheart.

Since the pier was occupied by the Celebrity Constellation which was here before us, our anchorage in the harbor meant that we would "tender" in, riding on small shuttle boats between the Jade and the central town. We were in no hurry today and let everyone else go first as we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. As only two business people could, we enjoyed conversations about retailing, business metrics, inventory management, sales force remuneration and executive pay. We loved it; you might not.

Like yesterday, I have been to Mykonos; B⁴ has not. I think she will enjoy the shopping. I hope so because there is not—from my perspective—much else to do here. Being rich helps in Mykonos.

The Greek island custom is that the main town on an island takes the same name as the island itself. We anchor in the harbor, then, of Mykonos town. This is a tourist place catering to the young club and nightlife oriented, both straight and gay. There is much to buy in the daylight hours; jewelry stores abound. We spent a good bit of time visiting with jewelry folks, one long winded enough to make us feel as though we were there when he sold the 280,000 Euro diamond necklace to the future king of Dubai. All the labels are here from Sephora to Cartier to Frank Mueller to IWC to Chopard to Louis Vuitton to, well, you get the picture. There are, as B⁴ observes “tons of high end jewelry stores” sandwiched between touristy curio shops and restaurants and bars.

Narrow streets make commerce here a logistical challenge. First, everything must be sent in via ferry or barge, transferred to land, transferred to very small truck and transferred to scooters—eventually reaching stores with frontages on “lanes” no more than six feet wide. Six feet; really. Of course, other thoroughfares are broad—fifteen feet perhaps.

History here is much the same as history all across the Greek Islands. Romans, Byzantines, Venetians, Ottomans and so on. In 1794, the British and French brought warships to the main harbor where we anchored to fight the Battle of Mykonos. In 1830 when Greece became an independent state, merchant activity began to flourish. But by the beginning of the twentieth century things deteriorated and many Mykonians left, a goodly number headed for the United States.

Tourism saved the place. Artists and celebrities flocked here—interrupted by the Second World War—and gave the place a reputation as the Greek Ibiza or the Capri of Greece. The place is small; only 33 square miles. It is hilly but not too high. We are only 90 miles east of Athens. 10,000 (or so) people live in the main town (there are nine other villages) and most of them, it seems, are selling something to the rest of us. On this day, four cruise ships are in port so there are nearly 10,000 potential buyers here in addition to however many are guests in the many hotels and inns that are around every corner.

After a storm in 1954, Petros the Pelican took up residence on the waterfront. He became the mascot of the island. After his death, recognizing a good thing when they saw it, the locals named a successor Petros and then another and another. We met the current title holder this afternoon.

There are derelict windmills here left over from Venetian times as far back as the 16^th century. Originally used to mill flour, the restored ones now are models for tourist's photos including many using selfie sticks to the consternation of many others. Rows of fishing houses—many repurposed as restaurants, have balconies that overhang the sea are known as “Little Venice.” Originally homes to wealthy merchants, the tiny doors that opened directly onto the sea gave rise to the belief that a bit of piracy went on in them as well.

For us, the island was a place to window shop, take pictures and stroll. We had a fine lunch and headed back to Jade around 3:00, joining our shipmates to mob the pool before it was time to weigh anchor and sail away at 5:30.

There is a Captain’s Reception for Suite Guests at the Star Bar. Many of the senior staff are personable but the Captain himself is a kind of non-entity. He’s here; we’re safe and on time so I guess that’s what you want in a Captain. But, on many of the ships I’ve been privileged to sail aboard, the Captain’s personality lends a type of branding to the entire event. Here the brand is blah. The cruise, isn’t; just the twist that the Captain often adds to the drink. We had a very nice talk with a personable couple and daughter from outside Sacramento. Daughter Amber is a newly minted MBA looking for an HR gig. Call me with offers and I'll pass them along.

We dine at Moderno, the Brazilian Churrascaria where the servers carve meat tableside. There weren’t many servers so there wasn’t much meat. Not my cup of tea. After dinner was the signature Norwegian Cruise Line White Hot Party in the Spinnaker Lounge high on deck 13 forward. Everyone is supposed to wear white and most—including B⁴and I--do. DJ music rocks the house. I am reminded of what Dash Krause must create with Skrillex. You’ll have to google that for some context and sense of what I am talking about.

At midnight we’re back in 9000. It’s windy outside but the sea is calm considering the ruckus stirred up by the air. Go figure. Tonight’s towel creation is a penguin.