Forrest Cassidy, Stone Editor and one of Gulf News' longest-serving employees, shares his experiences of some 15 trips on the QE2.
Cunard Line's Queen Elizabeth 2 embodied the glamour of the great liners of the 1920s and 1930s - the original Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary and even the Titanic despite its fate. The ship was the last British-built ocean liner, and for much of its life it was the only all-British-crewed passenger ship.
The legacy of British seamanship was evident everywhere, but best of all, it provided the ultimate in refined living.
For many people, an Atlantic crossing on the QE2 was the dream of a lifetime, but for a growing number of us the ship was almost like a second home. Many of the passengers were seasoned travellers who simply enjoyed the sea; others were lured back year after year by a certain indefinable quality that set the vessel apart from all others.
But what was life really like aboard the QE2? As one passenger said during an Atlantic crossing, "This isn't a cruise ship, it's a social occasion." Assigned seating in the dining rooms brought the same people together for the entire voyage, and encountering some of those people on subsequent cruises - by arrangement or by coincidence - was not uncommon.
In all the lounges and out on the open decks, conversations started easily, business cards were exchanged and the drinks flowed on and on.
Rough weather
Days at sea could be lazy, especially after lunch, and if the weather was good. This was the dicey part. The North Atlantic can be vicious any time of the year and anyone who thought that a big ship could cancel the laws of physics quickly learned otherwise as they headed to the nearest restroom.
One particular crossing in 1986 was really rough. We had barely dropped the pilot at Ambrose Lightship at the mouth of New York harbour when we got a taste of what we were in for. Over the next couple of days the waves were as high as 12 metres.
One evening the captain came to the Grand Lounge and said, "I have good news and bad news. The good news is that there is a storm directly in front of us but it is moving faster than we are."
"The bad news is that there is a storm directly behind us and it is also moving faster than we are."
Sure enough, at about midnight the storm caught up. The ship was pitching and rolling severely, and the next morning in the dining room crockery was crashing to the floor.
Last July, I took my fifteenth and final voyage, a 15-day cruise in the Mediterranean, and behind all the enjoyment there was a sadness that it was all over. I reflected on how the ship had changed over the years. In its early days it was a two-class ship, the Queen's Room lounge reserved for First Class and the Double Room lounge for Tourist Class.
Grand decor
In reality the passengers ignored this and ultimately the two-class system was abandoned. Even the cruise staff made fun of it. On one occasion, the Cruise Director came on stage after the evening show and said, "We don't like to put on the shows in First Class because the passengers there never applaud. They just rattle their jewels."
In those days the Double Room, so named because it was two decks high, had a spiral grand staircase in flaming red decor and everybody who thought they were somebody had to be seen swishing down it just before the evening's entertainment. In one of the ship's annual refurbishments the Double Room was renamed the Grand Lounge and the spiral staircase was taken out, forcing the glitterati to wallow in anonymity.
But snobbishness was taboo and the camaraderie also extended to the staff. This was particularly so in the dining rooms, where some passengers requested the same waiters year after year. This was one secret to the unmatched level of service on the ship.
The staff took great pride in the ship, and Cunard Line's staff training was very effective in producing teamwork. Last July, shortly after the ship had left Dubrovnik, a Croatian girl who had worked on several cruise ships and was staffing the Photo Gallery said, "Once you have worked on the QE2 you never want to work on any other cruise ship."
On the Mediterranean cruise the ship was sold out and the Queen's Grill, the vessel's most exclusive dining room, was packed. On the final formal night, flambe dessert was on the menu and it was always prepared by dining room manager Andrew Nelder, a 27-year Cunard veteran who was standing in for vacationing manager David Chambers.
The orders for the flambes were coming thick and fast and Nelder was worn to exhaustion manoeuvring the flambe trolley from table to table. But he took it all in stride with his usual wry sense of humour. Referring to the passengers he said, "They pay all this money and still they want meals on wheels."
Dinner was always the highlight of each day at sea, the men showing up in tuxedos and the women in evening gowns. In the Queen's Grill off-menu orders were accepted and for many diners it was something of a challenge to try to think of a dish that the chef hadn't heard of. No one ever succeeded.
In the late 1970s the dining room encouraged off-menu orders and anyone who stooped so low as to ask to see the menu was regarded with a touch of disdain. The manager would rattle off a list of out-of-this-world dishes and then add, "But you, sir, you can have anything you want."
The cruise industry in general is notorious to some people for its lavish, rich cuisine, and the QE2 is no different, although the emphasis in recent years was on health and nutrition. But the cruise staff liked to point out that it was possible to eat 24 hours a day, from the Early Risers Breakfast to the midmorning breakfast buffet, lunch, light meals in the afternoon on the Sun Deck, dinner, the midnight buffet and finally, room service.
After dinner the evening's entertainment began. Showtime in the Grand Lounge featured the QE2 Orchestra and a variety of popular British singers or comedians. There was another orchestra and dancing in the Queen's Room, a pianist in the Chart Room Bar and various DJs in the Yacht Club disco.
But the smash hit in the Golden Lion Pub was Colin Bryant and His Hot Rhythm Orchestra. On the nights they were playing, the pub was packed and anyone wanting a table had to get there really early.
Unusual passengers
Not surprisingly, the QE2 attracted the eccentric and the bizarre.
On an Atlantic crossing in the 1990s one couple was celebrating their eleventh wedding anniversary. She was no more than 27 or 28. He was not younger than 80 or 81. The whole ship was abuzz over this. One evening they showed up in the disco. He was wearing a straw hat and a jacket with blazing red stripes. They got out on the dance floor and almost burned it up.
On last July's cruise, a passenger showed up in the dining room wearing tails and a top hat and carrying an umbrella. We heard him tell his table companions that he had spent years in Africa, but that didn't explain the umbrella, or any of it for that matter.
Among the highlights of any voyage were the receptions in the officers' quarters. They were hosted by the ship's top officers and they brought together some of the most diverse passengers: seasoned travellers, businessmen, tourists and honeymooners. They were the ultimate in refinement, with the officers in their splendid dress white uniforms and the passengers in formal wear.
In later years the receptions stopped and the officers disappeared from the scene altogether. It was the beginning of the end of the transatlantic traditions that the QE2 had kept alive for so long.
Now the QE2 itself is gone. Its replacement, the Queen Mary 2, will have difficulty acquiring the aura of its predecessor, partly because of the characteristics of the ship and also because of the changes in the cruise market. But among cruise enthusiasts memories are long, and during its projected 40-year life the Queen Mary 2 will always be aware that it is sailing in the wake of the QE2.
