Four days onboard the Queen Mary 2

Time and money. Like you, I never have enough of either, especially when I'm looking to invest them in a vacation. I've got plenty of transportation issues, though. With planes, I only willingly fly for births or deaths. With trains, I resent forking over those bloated fares to Amtrak.

So take me to the water. Let the foghorns blow.

I think I'll take a cruise.

But with caveats:

Must embark from New York.

Must not have wet T-shirt contests.

Must have a library, a luxury spa and a planetarium.

Must require gowns and tuxedos for dinner.

Must take only four days, pier to pier. (Dare I leave my dogs in Barkingham Palace any longer, even though I guiltily forked over $420 for the kennel's "suite" with sofa and television?)

Got what I wanted, too, and at about only $1,100 a person aboard Cunard's Queen Mary 2 on its four-day voyage "getaway" package over the Easter weekend. The trip set sail from Brooklyn on a Thursday evening. By Friday, we were cruising at 28 knots along the Southern U.S. coast toward the Bahamas and arrived at Cunard's private island, Princess Cays, Saturday morning for a day of sunbathing. We lifted anchor just before dinner for the trip back Saturday night and Sunday and eased past the Statue of Liberty and into the Brooklyn pier at daybreak Monday, within minutes of Mary's promised return.

The big question: Can a would-be cruiser get aboard, find her way around, and take advantage of one of the world's greatest ocean liners in 92 hours -- yet feel the satisfaction of a vacation well had?

You be the judge.

Day 1, Thursday

Limo picks us up at our house in Great Neck, N.Y. Off to the pier in Brooklyn with my party in tow: Joe, my husband; Sasha, my daughter; and Zach, her pal since eighth grade (both of them are now in their mid-20s).

We have side-by-side cabins on the eighth deck, and our luggage is sent up within minutes of our arrival at about 1 p.m. The kids rush off to the Canyon Ranch SpaClub to sign up for massages and waxings and come back with a gift for me: an anti-aging facial appointment for the next day. Believe me, I need it.

Joe and I unpack in our room, a spacious 248 square feet with a king-size bed and a partial-view balcony. Four years ago, we had this same cabin on the QM2 maiden voyage from New York to Southampton, a historic crossing. Nostalgia has seized us.

Like any good cruisers, our first stop is the buffet. On this ship, food is served round the clock at several connecting restaurants on the seventh deck. Evenings, we are assigned to a table for four in the Britannia restaurant, a three-deck-high grand dining room, opulent and tasteful with exquisite silver place settings, Wedgwood china, Waterford crystal and a sweeping staircase. There are other dining venues on the Queen, as well, including Todd English, a Mediterranean-style restaurant ($30 a person surcharge for dinner) conceived by and named for the noted Boston-based chef, who is not aboard.

After picking up an Alan Furst novel at the elegant 8,000-volume library, we take a quick nap and get ready for dinner. As the saying goes, one can never be too dressed up or wear too much jewelry on the QM2. In fact, there is a dress code for three of the nights: formal, semiformal and elegant casual. Pretty much everyone dresses to comply; even in the daytime, one sees few sneakers, baggy Bermudas or bare feet.

Sorry to report that the Britannia's food is just high-mediocre, no better than at several country clubs I've eaten at on Long Island. Things sound tempting on the menus, but we find the fish dry, the steak chewy, the duck overly sauced, the pasta drenched in cream.

When we are sated, we leave the restaurant to window-shop at the Mayfair galleria of boutiques, including Hermes and H.Stern, and peek into the Veuve Clicquot champagne bar.

Feet hurting, we call it a night.

Day 2, Friday

Joe is up early and does six turns around the ship's wood outdoor deck, for a total walk of two miles. We meet for breakfast and help ourselves to mounds of gravlax, fresh waffles with cream and endless chunks of sweet pineapple. The ship is off the coast of Georgia today, and the air is blissfully warm and sunny, not a cloud on the horizon.

We run into Sasha and Zach on an upper pool deck, she in a bikini, he shirtless. We give them the sunblock lecture, which, of course, is ignored. We sit for a while but then go exploring on the ship's bridge, where we see the high-tech control room through a glass observatory. Plopping down on deck chairs by the ship's railing, we are hypnotized by the water passing by. Cha-cha-cha dance class: Pass. Art auction: Ditto.

After lunch -- a disappointing Asian-fusion buffet -- it's time for my facial. I am enveloped in warm goo for an hour, so relaxed and vulnerable that I barely manage to ward off the pitch to supersize my treatment with two extra peels for $90.

The dress code is formal tonight, and I put on my best dress and highest heels. Joe is smashing in his Zegna tuxedo; Sasha and Zach looking like they walked out of a photo shoot for Gotham magazine. All around us are couture gowns and silk bow ties; it is a dramatic fashion scene all over the ship.

At 9:45, the Royal Night Black & White Ball begins, and we peek in to see those who dressed in the called-for colors of the shipwide social event of the cruise as they earnestly dance the waltz and foxtrot.

Day 3, Saturday

At last, the beach. Tenders take passengers over to Princess Cays, an island in the Bahamas. There are all sorts of beach and water-play equipment to rent, and the ship's chefs are grilling in a hut for an afternoon barbecue. Joe and I score a cabana for $25 and bask in the shade. Sasha and Zach play volleyball with the crew and roast in the sun. They take the last tender back at 4:30, looking like grilled lobsters.

Joe and I had planned to return to the ship in time for the 4 p.m. planetarium show. But technical difficulties closed the theater. We had seen the sky spectacle on our last trip, so we weren't that disappointed, but, if you ever are aboard, don't miss this virtual-reality ride through the heavens.

Dinner is semiformal tonight, and I am in my trusty black dress and pearls. We stop by the tasteful little casino on our way out but are too tired to either play the slots or toss the dice.

Day 4, Sunday

A short workout in the well-equipped gym, an afternoon show of the Royal Cunard Singers in the Royal Court Theater, a lunch of hot carved meats and fresh salad, high tea with crustless cucumber sandwiches and a halfhearted thought that I'd go see "The Kite Runner" in the movie theater. Instead, nap, nap, read, read, nap. Joe goes to a lecture on the stars and astrophysics by a London scholar, Dr. Francisco Diego.

It's now our final night, and we pull out the last of our dressy clothes. Looking around the dining room, roaming the corridors lined with $5 million worth of art, trying on diamond earrings at H. Stern and ambling on the decks, we relish the last couple of hours of this short, but very sweet, voyage.