Well-Heeled Achilles

"Greece," gushed Elsa Maxwell, "is a poor country but a proud one. When the Queen said that Greece needed tourist business, it suddenly occurred to me that someone should organize a cruise." Suiting the action to the thought, yeasty, 72-year-old Elsa went to work, talked Greek Shipping Magnate Stavros Niarchos into the loan of the new liner Achilleus, and assembled a likely guest list. The Queen of the Hellenes, who herself went cruising last year on the Achilleus' sister ship Agamemnon (TIME. Sept. 13, 1954), was not invited. "I decided not to have any Greeks," said Elsa. "because there's no point in taking coals to Newcastle, and we wanted people who would spend money, which meant no royalty, since royalty, alas, has no money."

Last week, her decks awash with some 120 of the international set's most solvent globetrotters, the Achilleus set sail from Venice to tour the Isles of Greece. On her quarterdeck, resplendent in the blue-and-gold of what seemed to be the official uniform of a six-star admiral of the Nepalese navy, stood Elsa herself. "We're going to see Greece, and Greece is going to see us," she shouted as 50 cases of champagne were stowed away in the ship's hold. But, despite the wine, Admiral Elsa insisted, the Achilleus cruise was to be "entirely serious in tone. Oh, we will play a little bridge and do a little dancing--and Spyros Skouras has sent us 20 new movies to show. But everybody will have to be in bed by 12 and up at 8. There'll be a gong to wake them. The main emphasis will be on learning about the places we visit." Elsa had only one indulgence to offer her serious-minded Achillonauts. "If you wear your hat with brim turned to the side, it will mean, 'Don't anybody speak to me. Just don't talk to me.' That way I think we will enjoy our 15 days together more."

Even before the Achilleus sailed, a couple of hatbrims were turned ostentatiously aside. One was that of Shipowner Niarchos, who, fed up with Elsa's publicity, loudly disclaimed any connection with the cruise. ("I did get a boat for her. but I don't see why I should be mentioned all the time.") The other belonged to "Wally,'' Duchess of Windsor, whose well-publicized feuding with Elsa is a matter of far greater study to international cafe society than all the legends of all the Grecian Isles. With regal precision, Wally, who was not invited on the cruise, timed her arrival in Venice to coincide exactly with that of Elsa's guests. "His Royal Highness and I come here," she cooed to a reporter, "expressly not to take part in the social life."

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