More of Edward's Musings

You’ve no doubt heard that sailing on a liner is like sitting in your living room. Not true, but almost. One can feel ever-so-slightly on occasion the rise and fall of the ocean and the give-and-take of the QM2. It’s a bit tricky sometimes hitting the keys of this netbook or walking in a straight line. Nevertheless, the feeling of movement is nowhere near overwhelming, and we’ve had no need to “make our contribution to Neptune” over the railing or in the restroom. I thought it might be overly noisy, but was surprised to find that the noise level is similar, perhaps, to hearing the boiler down in one’s basement firing up, and only occasionally exceeds that.

Dinners are extremely elegant. A sport coat is a must, with tuxedo/suit/tie required most evenings. Gowns for the ladies. Dinner time, location, and table are assigned. We eat in the Britannia Room, near the stern, at a table of six. By coincidence, the two couples traveling together who are our dinner mates are all retired New York City-area educators, most of whom started in the classroom and eventually moved to administration and State Ed. They and the children they tell us about are very accomplished. One grown child is now an impresario/performer for a couple of rock bands and a creator of comic books, mostly in Europe and doing quite well. Another is the film editor for Adam Chandler, whom we are told is apparently a terrific person to know and work for.

The QM2 is, I’m hearing, the biggest liner afloat, exceeded, I imagine, only by a handful of aircraft carriers. She is a celebration of the past, in mostly art-deco style, and filled with paintings and pictures of Cunard liners and personnel of by-gone days, a floating monument to 170 years of passenger liner history. Cunard (pronounced cyu-nard, apparently with the syllables equally stressed) has spared no expense. Mountains and shore, while beautiful, cannot compare. Everyone should experience this at some time in their lives. My advice is: go for it! The evening was completed by dancing the evening away at the Ascot Ball.

The morning sun is now up and burning off the light fog. Joggers and power walkers are dotting the promenade deck, and early-risers are beginning to occupy other tables in King’s Court and this alcove. Perhaps it’s time to close. Wi-fi is virtually everywhere, and Internet service is obviously available on board the QM2, but the service is too slow and the plans will cost you approx 40 to 75 cents a minute. We try to use the Internet sparingly, and will probably wait to read most of our mail when we reach some coffee house in England. Deborah Harry and Blondie are now cranking out “Heart of Glass” across Lotus’s sound system, fortunately at a very subdued volume level. More immediate: my battery is almost expired. I must sign off, but I promise I will write you more when we reach the Mother Country! Happy Birthday Jennifer!!!!

Lectures and Presentations

What else do you get here for your money? For one thing, you can’t possibly experience all the activities that are available. Each morning, Donna and I attend two lectures. So far, all of them have been very nice. They are held in a large room toward the bow called “Illuminations”, which is a movie theater almost the size of a school auditorium. It also has a small stage, and state-of-the-art sound and lighting systems. Donna and I have seen talks by a former royal press agent and British newsman, an archeo-astronomer, and others. Donna made sure she was photographed on deck with the Royal BBC Journalist Nicolas Owen. They had a very interesting conversation about what “Camilla” is really like.

Slightly further “aft” is the elegant Royal Court Theater. Each afternoon and night, one can attend shows containing singers, dancers, and performers. Donna and I have already attended a truncated Royal Academy Theatre version of “Othello”, Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest”, planetarium presentations, a wonderful performance by a classical guitarist, and a Vegas-style house singing and dancing act. We have also seen and met Isobel Cooper, known as “Izzy”, one of the most famous classical vocalists in Britain, who put on a stirring show a few nights ago. She is quite beautiful, and I thought I might improve my reputation by getting photographed with her. There is no additional charge to see these acts. Try finding that at the shore or in the mountains, and for no additional charge.

Second only to Izzy is John Maxtone-Graham himself. As a published expert on the history of North Atlantic ocean liners, he gives lectures each morning, usually accompanied by old photos projected on the large Illuminations screen. He is now quite elderly, but has lost nothing. John is very tall, very thin, and often decked out in khakis and a dark blue double-breasted blazer with brass buttons, or on occasion even a kilt. His addresses here are the best attended of all, what with his courtly British manner and wry sense of humor (“Cunard calls you ‘guests’, but you are in fact paying passengers!”). He has written many books in addition to “The Only Way to Cross”, including “Titanic Survivor: The Story of Violet Jessup”. With the death of 97-year-old Millvina Dean a few weeks ago, there are no Titanic survivors left, but we do have Mr. Maxtone-Graham, who has interviewed and known many of them, and who is in many ways a last link to that famous tragedy. I decided to purchase “Titanic Survivor” and got it signed by the author during a visit to the library. Mr. Maxtone-Graham writes with a pair of large, elegant Mont Blanc fountain pens, one red, the other black, and has two glass bottles of ink continuously poised at his elbow. He is a delightful man of another age Attached is a picture of him signing my book. In case you are wondering, Violet Jessup was an English stewardess who survived the 1911 collision of the “RMS Olympic”, plus the sinking of her two “sister-ships”, the “Titanic” (1912) and the “Britannic” (1916). The last was a harrowing experience, and Violet’s is quite a story.

In addition to the above-mentioned theaters, also included is a large exercise/weight room and a small bookstore attached to the library, all over-looking the bow. We finally got to check out the swimming pool, the observation deck, the kennel, the Churchill Cigar Room, the Casino, and many other attractions like art and jewelry shows. There are a dozen restaurants and pubs, and almost anything is available 24 hours a day. The traditional “English Tea” in the Queen’s Room with the String Quartet was a wonderful way to spend a relaxing afternoon. Oddly, the draft beer selection is slightly limited, with Guinness, Stella, Becks, and Bass offered, certainly no sacrifice. Surrounding the obscenely-elegant central Grand Lobby (complete with a gigantic center-piece of fresh flowers) is a small shopping mall, where one can purchase from stores like Harrods, Chopards and Hermes. I trust you are no longer thinking mountains or shore.

Edward’s Impressions

As I write this, I am ensconced in King’s Court’s Lotus cafeteria, in a glass alcove which juts out onto the promenade deck. It is 6 AM and the sun ahead of me is just beginning to break the horizon. Almost no passengers are awake, and the only sounds are light disco muzak and the kitchen help further inboard preparing breakfast. Crew members squeegee the windows and wooden deck. About 8 or 9 AM they will bring out the green cushions for the wooden deck chairs that line the railing. It’s wonderful. We have been at sea for two-and-a-half days and are not yet that far east of Newfoundland, having turned northeast some hours ago. We have a few days to go. I will hate to see it end.

A book was published almost thirty years ago titled “The Only Way to Cross,” written by well-known maritime historian and author John Maxtone-Graham. The title is right on the money. I don’t know why anyone would fly when they could sail. I’ve heard that there are two-and-a-half crew members for every passenger, and I believe it. Stewards and waiters almost leap at you to assist you, from the Brooklyn Terminal (plentiful parking at $20 a day and luggage whisked away almost before your car stops) to your stateroom. One is well-served here.

Donna and I are berthed in what in another day might have been called “third-class” or perhaps “white collar steerage”. The cabin, though small and windowless, is nevertheless attractive, well-designed, and cushiony-comfortable, a model of efficiency. We have a king-size bed flanked by two nightstands with lamps. Our small bathroom is bright, with a tiny sink, commode, and 2’ x 3’ shower. The plumbing is not quite up to speed, but nevertheless is more than adequate. Opposite the bed is the door, and a short “hallway” lined with a plethora of closets, cupboards, and drawers, all of blond veneer and making it very easy to keep the room uncluttered if one is so inclined. At the foot of the bed, to one side, is a wing chair with small table, and on the other side a small desk and television, which offers perhaps 20 channels, including Fox News, BBC, and a handful of second-run movie services, plus QM2’s own channel, which broadcasts information like captain’s announcements, time, course, location, weather, etc. Nearby can be found a couple of American and European-style outlets (called, I’m told, “points” by the British). Also found here is a miniature refrigerator, which now houses a small bottle of champagne,“compliments of the captain.”

There is no doubt that it is considerably cheaper to fly to Britain than sail Here on the QM2, for a stay of almost 6 days, you get luxury accommodations, with unlimited food and beverages, and plenty of activities to do. Tips are included. A credit card-like pass serves as both your room key and method of payment for everything. Charges are simply forwarded to a credit card whose account number one submits when one orders tickets. Stewards and stewardesses work very hard here and pamper you. Not true on many other vacations. Ours calls himself “Edwin”. He is smiley, ever-present, and friendly, and calls us by name. He is also Asian. All help here are foreigners, and they are hard to understand, but do a great job.