Portsmouth Harbor

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The dream continues. At 7 AM, Donna and I disembarked from the Queen Mary 2 in Southampton. We were now on English soil!

Normally our section of the QM2 would leave its baggage in the corridor by our “stateroom” door, where it would be collected during the night, and prepared for evacuation from the ship next morning. We would eat between 5:30 and 7 AM at King’s Court amidships, and then gather in the Queen’s Room for a wait of almost, perhaps, two hours. By approx 10 AM we would then disembark.

But passengers do have the option of disembarking at 7 AM if they transport their own luggage. Knowing that this would give us more time for sightseeing, this is the option we chose. This is made possible by having one’s passport stamped on board a few days before. It was here that Ed made a serious error. I wore my red “Brittonkill Teachers’ Association” polo shirt, and happened to be carrying the paperback I was currently reading: Leon Uris’s novel of Irish rebellion, “Trinity.” I’m sure Great Britain feels I now have designs on them, but rest assured I have no desire to kill any Britons!

We were up early by mistake. “Crossing” to England creates a “day” of 23 hours. One needs to advance one’s watch five times. Ed mistakenly advanced his six, and so we were up early to shower, eat, and stand on the deck shortly after sunrise as we sailed majestically up the channel to the dock. Millions of mariners across history have sailed this leg, thrilled with the sight of their home turf, and we were lucky due to our mistake to have experienced it.

A ten minute taxi ride to the rail station, and a train ride of less than an hour brought us to Portsmouth, for centuries the home of the British navy. A five minute walk from the station brought us to the Keppel Head Hotel, a venerable, slightly worn, but wonderfully English hostelry filled with historic prints and overlooking one of the world’s most famous harbors. After leaving our baggage, we headed for the museums. Five hours after leaving the Queen Mary, we had walked the decks of the world’s most famous wooden warship (the “Victory”, ca. 1805), and of the world’s first ironclad warship, (the “Warrior”, 1860). We also had viewed the remains of Henry VIII’s favorite warship, the “Mary Rose” (1535), now raised from its sinking then and undergoing a lengthy conservation process. While on board “Victory,” Ed stood on the spot where the world’s most famous naval hero, Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson, took his fatal bullet during his most illustrious triumph, the Battle of Trafalgar (1805), and we saw where he died in the ship’s hold. “Victory’s” massive triple gun decks would have made short work of the entire 16-ship American navy of that era without any help from the other 599 ships of His Majesty’s navy. No wonder the U.S. was reduced to a type of naval guerilla warfare during the War of 1812.