Hello fellow QE2 fans!
For many many years I was fascinated by the great transatlantic liners and in particular what seemed at the time to be the last of the breed, QE2. Travelling on her was a distant dream for 35 years of my life, but one day the Sunday paper contained a mini brochure advertising a crossing to New York just prior to Christmas 2004, at a price which was just about affordable. Day 3 or 4 of the crossing coincided with my parent's golden wedding anniversary. I knew they would have loved to travel on the ship but could never have afforded it, even though my father used to work for Trafalgar House, former owners of QE2. I consulted my wife and 3 children (then aged 16,14 and
although in reality I had made up my mind...although it involved missed school time, I told the headmaster that the trip would be an education, tracing the steps of emigrants as well as the rich and powerful, how the transatlantic liners shaped the world we live in by transforming the economies of America and Europe by exchanging people, culture and ideas, etc.
Anyway, he gave us clearance.......
I will never forget my parent's faces as they opened the mysterious gift box containing the voyage documents boldly headed "Mr John Fisher and Mrs Ann Fisher - Westbound Transatlantic 16th December 2004". In fact we all spent months in a constant state of excitement, until the great day when we headed to Southampton, and saw the famous red funnel appear above the skyline. Going onto the ship via the gangway to the midships lobby was like entering a seperate univesrse, where all your troubles were left behind, and every moment was filled with joy and peace.
After we had excitedly explored the ship, and settled into our three adjacent starboard outside double cabins on three deck, we sat down for a celebratory drink in the yacht club. My only reservation before boarding had been that onboard drinks would be prohibitively expensive (when on holiday in the Canaries I remember P & O passengers raiding the local off licences because of the onboard prices). I was surprised and delighted to see that good champagne was $40 a bottle, about £22 at the time, less than supermarket prices! My father and I anticipated with relish the wines we would be drinking with our meals.....
We left Southampton that evening on a glass calm sea, the food in the Mauretania retaurant was superb (another potential worry decisively dealt with) and as my father and I shared a night cap (malt whisky) in the chart room bar, we commented on how completely vibration free the ship seemed and the total lack of engine noise and movement. As I went to bed that night with the ship rolling ever so slightly I was hoping that we would see some rough weather - and my wish was fulfilled the next day.
After breakfast we went up on deck to see the ship powering into steadily building head seas, cannoning vast volleys of spray aside as she surged through the atlantic. It then became rather too windy and we went inside for lunch in the Lido. As this is at the stern of the ship the movement when the ship is pitching into a head sea becomes amplified. The waves grew and grew and according to the weather chart update attained 12-13 metres (40 feet) as the ship approached the end of the continental shelf in the Celtic Sea about 200 miles South West of the Irish coast. Captain McNaught was taking the great circle route (shortest and roughest) and in accordance with his usual practice (according to a senior waiter) was not hanging around in the first couple of days, to give him more options later (very severe weather was forecast for the approach to New York, although this did not transpire in the end). The waves were not particularly steep, which made them all the more impressive, particularly as it was only a force 8 gale. Having lunch was a challenge for both diners and waiters! The stern would rise and rise, stop for a second to the accompaniment of loud vibrations from the propellers, before suddenly dropping like a lift whose cables have been cut. I distinctly remember one particularly impressive rise of the stern which caused even the waiters to turn as one to stare out of the portside windows at what must have been a particularly big sea. They braced themselves as the ship corkscrewed suddenly down to port, causing standing passengers to fall (apparantly the were some minor injuries, the worst a broken ankle).
The weather calmed down for the rest of the trip (mostly), which was a bit of a relief for mother, although none of us ever get seasick so it was all part of the excitement of a winter transatlantic crossing. And this was a real crossing, not a cruise - the ship contained over 50% Americans who were travelling home for Christmas. The atmosphere on board was magical, with tasteful Christmas decorations appearing by the day. I have so many memories: the sight of the foredeck under thousands of gallons of water on the bridgecam on the cabin tv as the ship dealt effortlessly with one big swell after another, the strange juxtaposition sitting by the large windows in the Queens Room of perfect tea service as huge seas were flung aside on the other side of the window, the perfect rainbow one day in the totally unpolluted air of the mid atlantic, the steam rising off the sea as we entered the gulf stream in chilly weather, my parents waltzing to the orchestra after dinner as the ship sailed serenely westwards, the waiters singing to them on their 50th wedding anniversary after presenting them with a cake, the wine list as large and thick as a presentational book, the midday cocktails in the crystal bar, the entertaining histrionics of the cruise director as he enthusiastically showed us round the heritage trail and regaled us with stories of crossings in force 12, my daughter loving the dressing up for the evening, my youngest son spending hours staring out of the window looking for whales, the anticipation of superb food and wine, late night dancing in the yacht club, and many more.
One strange thing about QE2 was my experience of being in the Queen's room, staring across to the windows on the opposite side of the 105 foot wide room, and getting the sensation of the ship actually shrinking around you, as if to warmly envelop you and protect you from the restless atlantic. Despite her size, she actually became cosy, like staying in your best friend's house in a storm.
Eventually, one freezing and crystal clear morning, we rose early to see the lights of New York appear over the horizon, and we were gradually able to make out the famous landmarks, getting closer and closer. We passed under the Verrazano Narrows bridge, and it was fascinating to look up at the funnel wondering how much clearance there was (to the naked eye it looks nil or even less!). We slowly passed the Statue of Liberty like so many thousands of people before us, and I was overwhelmed by the sense of history from that moment until the famous Moran tugs guided the world's fastest and most beautiful liner into pier 90 . New York is a unique port because the liner seemed almost to park in the City Centre (I think they dock QM2 in Brooklyn now). On leaving the ship my parents had the joyous suprise of seeing my sister, her husband and their grandchildren who had secretly flown over to meet them (although I was in on this). When we were far enough away we could see for the first time the whole of the ship, and took some photograhs. She had ice around her bows as a momento of another winter crossing safely completed. She looked achingly beautiful. I vowed to sail on her again.
As to her destination, New York is wonderful at Christmas Time, and we did all the usual landmarks. After three fantastic days it was something of a come down to queue for hours to get a seriously uncomfortable redeye flight back to a drizzly UK. When I am surrounded by a sea of troubles, which is most of the time, I am lifted by the memory that one Christmas I stood on the teak deck of an iconic transatlantic liner as it entered New York.
Topic: Winter transatlantic - a dream come true (Read 9374 times)
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Mar 31, 2014, 10:56 AM