The 16th of October was a difficult day. It was Queen Elizabeth 2’s final call in New York. Back in 1969, I went with my parents to take a look at the new Cunard ship and was captivated. Although I was not able to begin immediately, I am proud to say I have subsequently done some 75 voyages on QE2.
That is what made October 16th difficult. Having spent such a large part of my life on the ship, having known so many people onboard, there are memories around each corner of that ship. I don’t have any bad memories of being on QE2. But, there is a certain melancholy that comes from the memory of good times now gone.
I must confess that I bristle somewhat when QE2 is referred to as a classic ocean liner. Yes, she meets the technical definition of an ocean liner with her strong narrow hull and ability to do speeds that only warships can match. However, her designers expressly intended her to be different from the liners of the past. She was very much a ship of her time and needs no association with ships of the past to support her greatness. It was not just that she was so technologically advanced, the celebrities who came aboard, or the luxury of her appointments, people who came into contact with her recognized that there was something different about this ship, something splendid, something great.
Now, of course, there are ships that are more technologically advanced with more amenities and features for passenger comfort. In time, some of them may develop a character similar to that of QE2 borne out of being involved in history making events as well as from abiding by a creed that being the best is just part of the daily routine. Indeed, Cunard’s QM2 has that potential.
I have no strong interest in what the new owners plan to do with the ship once she becomes a floating hotel in Dubai except to hope that they will treat it with respect. QE2 as I knew her will cease to exist once she goes out of Cunard’s service later this month. The crew and the passengers are vital to the life of a ship. Furthermore, the throb of the engines is like a heartbeat and with the swell of the ocean waves as she travels one can feel her breathing. Ships that become hotels or museums are all well and good from a historical preservation perspective but they are just not the same. Where QE2 will live on is in the hearts and minds of the people that knew her.
Cunard kindly invited me to the ceremony marking QE2’s last call in New York. It was a very nice but poignant affair with Cunard’s President Carol Marlow, Captain Ian McNaught of QE2, and Commodore Bernard Warner of QM2 sharing some reflections on the occasion.
Afterwards, I walked around the public rooms and the open decks one last time. Then, I went down to Pier 84 to wait for the QE2 to sail. Pier 84 is now a public park a half mile or so from the Manhattan Passenger Ship Terminal. The ships must pass it as they head out to sea and because it projects into the river, it provides a good close view.
Unfortunately, there were heavy rain showers that afternoon. They caused many of the other people who had gathered on the pier to disperse. However, I sat on a bench huddled under my Cunard umbrella.
Just after five, the rain showers ended. Not long after, QE2 backed out into the river. Ships leaving the Passenger Ship Terminal have to make a 90 degree turn in order to go down the river to the sea. They then present their port side to Manhattan as they leave.
This time, the current was stronger than usual due to the recent rain. Despite the best efforts of two tug boats, QE2 refused to make the turn. As a result, she drifted down river with her bow toward Manhattan. It was as if she were taking one long last look.
By the time the ship arrived at Pier 84, the tugs were starting to have some success making her turn. The bow began to swing round in front of us. A single blast from QE2’s horn saluted the remaining well-wishers and shortly thereafter she was heading down the river the way she had done hundreds of times in the past.
