QE2

Georgia I. Hesse
As published in the Sacramento Bee

ON A COOL and overcast May afternoon in 2003, the good ship Queen Elizabeth 2 eased her trim 70,000+ tons from a Manhattan dock into the Hudson River and, wrapped in music and memories, stood out to sea. She was Southampton-bound on the first of 17 farewell transatlantic crossings.

Nostalgia, enhanced by Champagne, kept me warm on the misty deck long after most wind-blown sailors had repaired to the warmth of the Yacht Club. But I had been aboard when this grande dame made her debut 34 years ago. Since then (without me, alas) she had made her stately passage 777 times.

As before, we passed the Nantucket Light, heading toward Cape Race off Newfoundland. Three early mornings later, we shyed well south of the polar ice fields to set out upon the Great Circle crossing of the North Atlantic. (An X on Capt. Ian McNaught's chart marks the spot where Titanic sank 81 springs ago. Braving ponderous waves, another Cunard lady, Carpathia, had steamed full speed ahead for 60 miles to pluck 712 survivors from the heavy seas.)

I tried to be oh-so-cool for this seven-night voyage, but while dining on caviar and roasted duckling à l'orange in the Queens Grill or snugged into the cozy Princess Lounge I would come suddenly upon glamorous ghosts: King Hussein of Jordan, Walter Cronkite, Raymond Massey and Moira Shearer, not to mention Her Majesty the Queen with her Royal Family, and Millvina Dean, a veteran of the Titanic disaster. Maybe Ginger Rogers or The Most Reverend Lord Runcie of Cuddesdon (strange as that might seem) had been sleeping in my bed.

Indeed, almost the only place on board where I didn't encounter alluring apparitions was the Computer Learning Centre.

QE2 (as Elizabeth is known to her familiars), latest in the regal parade of Cunard liners, will make her final transatlantic run this December, to be succeeded on May 1, 2004, by her new sister, 150,000-ton Queen Mary 2. When QM2 takes over, QE2, following a major refurbishment, will be deployed on round trips to the Mediterranean and Northern Europe out of Southampton and will remain the ship of choice for Cunard's annual World Cruise.

QM2 is scheduled for her maiden voyage on Jan. 12, 2004, departing Southampton for a ceremonial 14-day cruise to Fort Lauderdale, calling at Madeira, the Canary Islands, Barbados and St. Thomas en route.

Queen Mary 2: Talk about nostalgia. Shortly after my 22nd birthday I boarded (in a state of lower-case ecstasy) the original Queen Mary, launched by the sovereign (also an original) whose name she bore. Perhaps the most beloved liner ever, she held the record - the coveted Blue Riband -- for fastest Atlantic crossing from 1938 to 1952 and served gallantly with her sister Elizabeth as a troopship during World War II. (Today the lady Mary rests in peace at dock in Long Beach harbor. On Jan. 9, 1972, Elizabeth, while undergoing conversion to become a floating university, took fire and sank in waters off Hong Kong.)

Nostalgic for Mary the First I might be, but not wistful. Consider my QE2 stateroom, the largest cabin in which I've ever floated: two beds to be turned down nightly (by Neptune, I suspect; I was never there when it happened); full bathroom with tub and shower; huge walk-in closet where I found slippers, terrycloth bathrobes, racks for suitcases and shoes, refrigerator and a safe; comfortable seating area with lighting so I could actually read; dressing table and lighted mirror with a long and handy shelf atop sets of drawers; satellite TV equipped with multi-language music channels; direct-dial telephone, thermostat control; an ice bucket and a fruit basket that kept replenishing themselves.

What more could Dame Judi Dench have wanted?

Looking back upon my Queen Mary days, I see quite a different setting: a cramped cabin below decks where we students slept in tiered bunks and made reservations with the bath steward to shower in chilly salt water. We numbered 579 passengers in third class, not to say steerage. My Cornelia Otis Skinner-type steamer trunk (complete with fold-out ironing board) was secured in the baggage room, I suppose, while a stuffed carry-on served as closet, cosmetic corner and bookcase. Still, I did steal up to first class, which spoke of the fading opulence of Empire. ("The rooms will be perfectly satisfying to the most cosmopolitan conceptions of culture and good taste," read a brochure published in 1935, "…retaining the atmosphere and restfulness and comfort associated with the most dignified English country homes.")

One night several decks below the art deco, a young man (face it, a nerd) seized me in bony arms and shrilled, "Shipboard romance! That's what they advertize!"

With a start, I found myself back on QE2 - and happily.

On the first full day at sea, time stretched out like a lazy dog. Nothing to do for a week but dine and dally. (I'd already tackled the one requirement: passenger emergency drill, failing to look as smart in my red-orange life jacket as Sharon Stone had.) I could stroll all the way around Boat Deck, I supposed, if I wanted to feel fit. I could take in a movie or amble to the shops on Promenade Deck; might find something stunningly simple at Harrods. Why not learn beginning bridge or attend the art auction or try aquarobics or take a putting clinic?

In the end, though, it seemed smarter to nap before the first formal dinner. So stressful, after all, to select iced Russian Malossol Sevruga caviar with classical garnish followed by broiled lobster tail with garlic herb butter, broccoli florets, sautéed mushrooms and saffron bell pepper rice. Besides, one should rest up for Showtime in the Grand Lounge or dancing in the Queens Room or rioting at the Golden Lion Pub.

Next day, invigorated, I tackled the pages of the daily Times Digest (prepared by the New York Times and passed under my door while I slept). News that the property tax rate in New York City last summer (taking in the assessment level, of course) ranked fifth from the bottom, just above that of Cheyenne, Wyoming, I became unnerved enough to invite a friend for the Drink of the Day (Blue Atlantic) in the Crystal Bar before luncheon.

No sooner had the chilled apricot soup and buccatini alla checca disappeared than a snooze proved irresistable. While dreaming of dinner, I missed the scarf-tying demonstration and a talk on the benefits of seaweed for rheumatism and arthritis.

Next day our small press group mounted an attack on torpor. We called upon 48-year-old Captain McNaught who had become master only three weeks before, having served nine years as staff captain; interviewed cruise hostess Maureen Ryan who signed on as a stenographer almost 30 years ago and has never left; toured the seven restaurants and dining areas, eight bars and cocktail lounges, five entertainment venues, beauty and hairdressing salons and the Cunard Royal Spa where the sensuous arts of thalassotherapy turn the uptight tiger CEO into a kitty-cat.

Between meals, we found time to visit Noah's Ark, the QE2's colorful nursery that caters to children from ages one to seven. Supervised by qualified nurses from 8 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. and 1:30 to 6 p.m., the young passengers become involved with arts and crafts and may watch a daily movie. Baby-sitting services in the evening usually are available at extra charge.

Elizabeth also carries a kennel (inhabited by three dogs during our sailing), but its denizens may not be disturbed.

Something happens to one's sense of time and space on board a ship. The world that matters shrinks to the size of the vessel and the hours roll by as slowly as the stars. The arrival in Baghdad of America's new civilian administrator for Iraq, L. Paul Bremmer III, caused less conversation than the sighting of 85-year-old Beatrice Muller, who has made her home in one of QE2's smaller staterooms for half a decade. While President Bush condemned the Saudi bombings, diners in the Queens Grill raced through a luncheon of seared pheasant breast to get to the Bad Hair Day lecture or the "Maid in Manhattan" movie on time.

But wait! Lest it appear that the passenger list is composed only of sloths or ninnies, witness the action at on-deck games, aerobics classes, aquarobics, golf instruction, dance drills or something called Tai-Bo in the Fitness Centre.

Meanwhile, a bevy of bibliophiles clusters daily in the Library (6,861 volumes) and Book Shop. Those who don't wish to wander to the Theatre for lecture and enrichment programs can watch them repeated all day on in-cabin television. (One afternoon, a lady of a certain age remarked to Peter Waring, yachtsman in the 1977/78 Whitbread Around the World Race, "I certainly enjoyed you in bed this morning!")

On our final evening at sea, following a day spent on shore in Cherbourg, France, or touring the countryside as far as the landing beaches of Normandy and Mont St. Michel, QE2 raised her gangway at 10:30 p.m. to sail through the night to England. The great lady was taking her final bow in Cherbourg. On the lantern-draped dock far below our Boat Deck, hundreds of well-wishers had amassed. As we slipped away, they waved their own flickering lights: au revoir. We waved back until the lights twinkled out and we had reached the black Channel.

There wasn't a dry eye on board. Hail and Farewell.

Georgia I. Hesse, now a freelance writer, was travel editor of the Sunday Examiner and Chronicle for 19 years.

Taha'a Pearl Beach Resort

“It's a very special place. The Taha'a Pearl Beach Resort is a real gem. It's the closest to a five-star facility we visited and head and shoulders above the other Pearl Beach resorts we visited and heard about. It's very secluded, so there's not a lot to do outside of the resort, but Bora Bora is only 20 miles away. Taha'a would be a great first stop for honeymooners before moving on to Bora Bora, which was my favorite island.”

M.W., Jacksonville, FL