Day 12 – Thursday 9 May
I woke at the more conventional time of 0650 and threw back the curtains to reveal a calm blue sea, sunshine, and white fluffy clouds. You wouldn’t think we were on the same ocean as two days ago. Our position at 0715 was 45deg 51N, 36deg 36W or very roughly 700 miles E by S of Newfoundland. Sea state is moderate, wind Force 6 from NW. 12C. We altered course yesterday onto our Great Circle course of 068 that will take us to Bishop Rock off Lands End. Speed is 24 knots to make up for lost time in the storm, and our revised ETA in Southampton is now 0700 on Sunday. I trust you will all be there on the jetty to welcome the old sea dogs returning from the New World. We bring Tobacco and Potatoes and Pocahontas; you will love them.
That reminds me of the story of a chap I relieved a few years ago who, in HMS TRACKER, met a very nice shady lady from Uruguay with whom he shared many cultural interests and learned discussions during a port visit to Montevideo. Taking the view, like many sailors, that the first turn of the screw cancels all debts and romances, he waved her a tearful goodbye as the ship sailed – only to find her waiting for him on the jetty in Portsmouth, weeks later when the ship arrived back in UK, standing about fifteen feet away from his wife who was doing the same thing. I cannot recall how he got out of that one, but there is a moral to the tale.
Well the Neil Armstrong film last night, taken after an early dinner (roast rib of beef – excellent, thank you) was so slow that we ejected at about the Gemini stage. This left us, earlier in the evening than planned, at a loose end. We drifted through the shops and boutiques, Jane bought a bangle and I was refused a Dinky Toy model of the QM2 cast in metal. Eventually, by an aimless route, we found ourselves in the Grills Lounge, which was totally deserted owing to most people being at the cocktail party or dinner. How about a post prandial cocktail? So I had a ‘Midnight in the Atlantic’ (Jack Daniels, coffee liqueur, creme de cacao, creme de menthe, double cream.), which was delicious and a big improvement on the weird drink served in the elephant a few days ago. Jane had a Margarita and declared it equally good, though quite potent. Sadly, it was a bit too cold in the lounge for Jane in her evening dress (navy tulle with beading, over a cream underlay that makes it look as if she has no clothes on underneath, as you ask). So we could not stay for a second drink and, perforce, retired to our cabin to warm up. A quiet night then, but we took great pleasure in just reading our books and falling asleep after a tiring day.
Readers of my blog covering the Great Australia Adventure may recall the continual theme of The Cardigan, worn by Jane even on the equator to counteract the cold air conditioning. The ship is warmer this time, particularly in the restaurant where a little off-the-shoulder number is more the de rigueur for Jane in the evening. The arctic temperature in the lounge last night was unusual.
Wow. Today is more like it: blue sea, calm, bearable wind on the port quarter, warm: real ‘Signing On’ weather. I stood on the balcony, leaning on the salt encrusted rail, and took it all in. This was how it used to be, and how we remembered it. We may be able to sit out on the balcony later today and take a little sun. Jane even proposes a walk around the upper deck this afternoon after we have listened to Purple Haze in the Pavilion bar on 12 Deck, while sipping a lunchtime snifter. Purple Haze is one of the ship’s pop groups – or is that ‘bands’ – that Jane has discovered, and I am to listen to them as part of her programme for me of CPD (Continuous Pop Development).
As part of that programme, we attended Lecture 2 of Roger McGuinn of The Byrd’s this morning. Waiting for the performance to begin, I was delighted to identify yet another stereotype from the old days, Semaphore Sally (“Yoo Hoo! Doreen! Over here! Oh Fred, she hasn’t seen us! Yoo Hoo!”). Plus ça change.
Hey! Roger McGuinn was great! I have undergone an epiphany. This was music of the 60s. Flower power. Dylan. Free love….
“…McGuinn and MacGuire, just agettin’ higher, in LA, you know where that’s at. And no one’s gettin’ fat, ‘cept Mamma Cass”.
That McGuinn. That Byrds. Wow. The music was wonderful. He described the development of the group and how many of the songs were Bob Dylan’s, rearranged by McGuinn. I was really taken with the whole thing, and boogied round the deck when it was all over. Total transportation in time. Cool baby.
We had only visited the Pavilion Pool, up on 12 Deck, fleetingly last trip. It is a glass-walled and glass-ceilinged area with a small swimming pool and two jacuzzis, sun loungers, and a bar. The ceiling retracts in hot weather. It is mainly frequented by the Really Old People who are trying to get warm or to get a last suntan before they die, so not quite my kind of place – yet. Anyway, we perched on bar stools and quaffed a Pimm’s and a G+T while listening to Purple Haze and people-watched. Honestly, the things people will wear (or not wear) on holiday: one matron, who should have known better, with a tattoo on her breast; another largish lady who put me off chicken drumsticks for life; a jacuzzi filled with bathing belles from an English saucy postcard. It is not recorded what their views were of that grey little balding man, wiggling his bottom on the bar stool to the beat of the band – quite right too, we don’t want to encourage any of that sort of waspish behaviour.
By the way, vis à vis ladies with a fuller figure, recent medical research has – in fact – proved that women with a comfortable build live longer. Longer, that is, than the men who remark on their figure.
The band was good – mainly jazz, which isn’t my forte – but with a good beat. See how I am getting into the groove now. We led the feeble applause. Jane said that there must be nothing worse than to play and receive no applause. I said that that’s what the orchestra on the TITANIC probably said too, then…
Another hour on the clocks at noon – now at GMT -1.
A small lunch, then to Sir Samuel’s (the chocolate and ice cream bar) where Jane wanted a chocolate sundae. It was so big that we had to share it. Suitably replete, we waddled to the Library then on to the Commodore Club, under the bridge, to have a quiet read. This decision was flawed because a loud raucous crowd was receiving practical lessons in cocktails at the bar. I was grumbling about the racket, but Jane pointed out that it was, after all, a bar not a library. I was suitably chastened, but we moved on nevertheless – this time to the external Grills Terrace down aft. There, believe it or not, we lay on sun loungers soaking up the rays. I left Jane there while I went for my afternoon lecture on US foreign policy, feeling suitably smug and erudite.
Day 13 – Friday 10 May
Blue sky, a calm sea, occasional light cloud. Ironic that the weather should improve just as we are nearly home. Position at 0820 ship’s time was 48deg 30N, 23deg 50W or very roughly 500 miles WSW of Ireland. Course 078, speed 23 knots. Wind Force 3 from NW, sea Slight. The writing is on the wall.
All the public areas of the ship, lobbies, passageways and stairways, are decorated – if that is the right word – with murals, photographs and information about Cunard’s history. These are a rich source of information and are as interesting and entertaining as the lectures, shows and passengers. I came across one today that put today’s US Immigration into context. Masters of ships arriving in the USA at the beginning of the 20th century had to certify that their passengers were not idiots, insane, paupers, suffering from a loathsome or contagious disease, convicted of a felony or other offence involving moral turpitude, prostitutes, polygamists or anarchists. Passengers rejected by US Immigration incurred a fine on the shipping line, so there was an incentive to filter out potential rejects before leaving Europe. Those seeking passage with Cunard were quarantined for several days before boarding, examined by a doctor, given an antiseptic bath, vaccinated, and their clothes and luggage were fumigated by steam (ruining some items in the process). First and Second class passengers were checked out by quarantine officers as the ship approached the Hudson and, if passed, allowed simply to disembark at the pier; only Third class passengers had to undergo the three to five hour ordeal of examination on Ellis Island – the ‘Island of Tears’ – before acceptance or rejection. Typically, 98% of immigrants were accepted. Of the unfortunate 2%, some were directed to Ellis Island’s detention hospital or were deported on the next ship retuning to Europe. No one could say those earlier US presidents were soft on immigration.
The food has been very good this trip; better than on the World Voyage where the menu often promised much, but sometimes did not quite deliver. The steaks, in particular, have been superb. We have also found the entertainment to be better. Readers of my last QM2 blogs may recall my references to the Bad Band and the Dodgy Dancers. That has not been the case this time, and the band and groups have been good – not that we have attended all the shows, but we have listened in to some performances.
We loafed today: no lectures, no events except the Senior Officers’ Cocktail Party of which more later. We just sat in the sunshine on our balcony or on the Grills Terrace and read. I tell a lie, Jane did a bit of dhobying in the laundrette as she refuses to send anything to the laundry except shirts and trousers. This is traditionally my role in the Shacklepin household, but I take the view that we are on holiday and I did budget for using the ship’s laundry. Still, Jane won’t have it and insists on doing our smalls in the laundrette, which is free (including detergent). Of course, there is quite a high demand for the laundrettes, despite there being almost one on every passenger deck, so you have to time your arrival carefully – something that Jane has become quite adept at. I think she has a bit of a gossip in there at the same time as she comes back with all manner of useful information as well as someone else’s sock. We did find an enormous nightdress in our load the other day and we have no idea how it got in there. It was as big as a frigate’s mainsail (I may exaggerate slightly here) and bright blue.
As I may have mentioned before, there is no shortage of bars or quiet sitting areas where one can go onboard. I am currently sitting in the Commodore Club, which faces forward and is just under the bridge. There is also the Chart Room (nice decor), the Golden Lion Pub (NQOCD), the Champagne Bar (usually empty), Sir Samuel’s (chocolate, ice cream and fat people), Pavilion Pool (old people), Carinthia [sic] Lounge (where the ragged people go), Queen’s Ballroom (huge and often empty), G32 Night Club (night owls) and the small exclusive Grills Lounge (Princess and Queen’s Grill passengers only – not that anyone checks). Large parts of the upper deck and terraces are also served by waiters as you lounge on the wooden steamer chairs, as found on the TITANIC. For just sitting, there is the Library, the passages either side of the Royal Court Theatre and Illuminations Cinema, and the two-deck atrium. There always seems to be something going on somewhere in addition to the formal lectures and cinema: vegetable carving, dance lessons, bridge lessons, LGBTQ, needlework and knitting, solo travellers, trivia quiz, table tennis, Alcoholics Anonymous, Freemasons, Veterans, police officers, pub quiz….You can never claim to be bored or short of friends. We were going to go to the party for the friends of Dorothy until we found out what it meant.
We did the Senior Officers’ Cocktail Party, Round Two just before lunch – yes, same as last week. The sitting-down thing cannot be unique to the British as we encountered the same phenomenon this time despite a strong US presence among the passengers; and as the latter tend to be quite outgoing, we can eliminate the lack of self confidence. So we are left with old people who don’t like standing…I still find it odd. We, again, had a nice chat to one of the junior admin officers, but left – this time – before couples started dancing around us. Still no Engineer Officers or, indeed, any Deck Officers, which was a shame as I wanted to talk to one about diesel engines and to the other about using bulldog clips rather than splices in wire rope. Hey ho.
And another hour on the clock- now at GMT. We are getting closer.
Well we have done a quick audit and we still have about $230 of our allowance to spend in the next 24 hours, or lose it. We have started with a bottle of Cunard gin and Jane is eying up some perfume, but we are still short on ideas. Model ships, and wrist watches the size of a submarine depth gauge have been excluded from the potential list by my mistress (peace be upon her), so maybe we should look at clothes…or more gin. I would ask for your ideas or, indeed, your requests but by the time you read this it will be too late. [post blog note – we bought a waterproof jacket for Jane and a belt for me, overspending very slightly]
The last Black Tie event tonight, theme ‘Roaring 20s’, and we spent some of our excess cash on yet more cocktails, a Bellini and a Honeysuckle Daiquiri. ‘Surf and turf‘ for dinner as the sun set on the Atlantic, then we felt we should go along and do a little dancing. No, we didn’t do the Charleston. We did do the odd jig, though the competition was strong, if not a little scary. Watching was more fun, as many people had dressed up for the evening. I was particularly impressed by King Farouk, 5’ 4”, complete with fez, dancing with the tall young blonde who was wearing a pair of orange pyjamas. The family with a toddler appeared at 2150 – I told you they followed me around – and we trotted off shortly after. All those cocktails, you understand.
Day 14 – Last Day – Saturday 11 May
Our penultimate day dawned with a blue sky, slight cloud, and a calm sea. My body clock has still not adjusted properly and I overslept after initially waking at 0200. Jane made the tea, a real treat.
Position at 0700 ship’s time was 49deg 35N, 11deg 11W, or approximately 200 miles due west of Lands End. We are in what I would call the Western Approaches, but the modern world now seems to call the Celtic Sea. Nearly there. Course 088, speed 23 knots. Wind Force 3 from NE, sea slight, 13C. We have just crossed the Porcupine Abyssal Plain, the beginning of the continental shelf, so named after HMS PORCUPINE, the ship that charted it.
It is Packing Day, a day neither we nor any other person returning from holiday relishes. Where did all this stuff come from? I think Jane’s New York fridge magnet will be the thing that breaks the camel’s back. Or possible mine. Anyway, we have had the instructions for disembarking. We will be alongside at 0700 and have to vacate our cabin by 0830. We are delighted to learn that, as Platinum Badge holders, we get to sit and wait in the Verandah Restaurant, a venue so exclusive that we have never been there before – you have to pay $39 each extra for meals there (so why would you?). As Princess Grill passengers we disembark early, at 0850, so we hope to be on the road by 0945 or so. Luggage collection is, in my view, the achilles heel of cruise travel for, unlike the airline practice, there is no rotating carousel from which to grab your luggage; instead there is just an enormous aircraft hangar with the bags lined up in heaps according to cabin deck. It is all a bit of a free-for-all like a Harrods sale. Last time we were lucky and found our bags straight away, let us hope our luck holds.
We attended a final ‘lecture’ in the form of a Q&A session with Roger McGuinn of The Byrds the last fading attempt by Jane to make me musically aware. He came across as a really nice bloke – it was coming up to his 40th wedding anniversary and his wife was onboard with him. Quite a feat for a celebrity. Some of the questions at the Q &A were either fawning or technical, but most brought out his character well. He is still active in the musical world and is currently trying to revive interest n traditional music, contributing to a free download site co-sponsored by the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill. I know of at least two readers who may be aware of it.
A repeat of that privileged wine tasting this afternoon (Platinum and above only, no riff raff though the doorman didn’t seem to be aware of that last requirement). The wines this time were Argentinian, which may be of interest to some of my readership. We had two whites and two reds of which the best were a Pinot Gris – Santa Florentina [I think] for the white, and a delicious Malbec, Keiken [I think] – it means ‘Wild Goose’. Must see if the Wine Society has any in stock.
The ship is sailing onward to Zeebrugge for Bruges after Southampton, then St Peter Port in Guernsey before returning to Southampton and hence to New York again. We wish we had noticed that in the itinerary, as we would have stayed on for the short trip, though I suppose you can’t postpone the inevitable. Home beckons, and Jane is already talking about visiting Lidl and is detailing me off to cut the lawn. Ah, back to normal.
Beautiful afternoon, with sunny weather and a calm sea as we steamed past Lands End. Typical on the last day, but that’s the Atlantic for you. Cocktails with our new, fleeting, friends from America this evening, then a last dinner. It has been great despite the overall weather.
So, summary of our trip to the New World? Different from the Australian trip, most notably because of the weather – no slamming of balcony doors, no sunbathing, no horrible sights on the sun loungers, no romantic walks along the boat deck, and every lecture packed. But the passengers have not changed: late for shows and inconsiderately climbing over those who managed to make it on time; indecisive; sartorially challenged; the halt; the lame; the eccentric; the rich; the poor; the sweet; the sour. In other words, the human race compressed into a tin bath on the ocean. They remain both fascinating and frustrating; I could have given some of them a Jonah’s Lift at times, but we have also met some absolutely lovely people too, including old acquaintances from the crew. Paradoxically, I shall miss The Fidget, The Sentry, The Frozen Statue, Fanning Fiona, Semaphore Sally and Rodney Rucksack – who or what else can I moan about? We still love the ship, the layout, the programme, the food and the crew. New York was fascinating despite the rain but, as we always knew, we would really need about five days to appreciate it properly. I understand that hotels, food and drink are about 1.5 x London prices (food courts excluded) so an extended visit could be challenging. At present the plan is to win the lottery, travel over by QM2, take in New York and visit friends in America, then travel back by QM2 four weeks later. No difficulty there then – Jane is saving her £2 coins already.
Another cruise? Never say never again; we’ll let you know. See you soon.
"A Very Vintage Chap..." 