Well, since I referenced my trip across the Atlantic on the QE2 and since the album of photos I took happens to be out, I snagged some shots. They are not high quality partially because the originals are not and partly because I took them with my iPhone. But they will give an idea of what it was to sail across the sea in 1977.
Comme j'étais jeune... this was the telegram that announced I had been booked passage on the ship for the student fare.
Blurry shot of the QE2, looking miniscule compared to the recent shipwrecked liner.
View of the QE2 before embarking (somewhere between 34-45th Streets, NYC).
The former WTC as we left NY harbor on 1 September 1977.
Looking toward Hoboken.
Our cabin somewhere way below. It was on the outside of the ship so we did have a porthole.
This photo makes the cabin look bigger than it was... but it was perfectly adequate for two people.
Above deck on the one sunny day.
Hoowhee, look at that exhaust.
Looking at the stern.
Somewhere inside...!
Our dinner table (we were assigned a table and ate with the same people every night). As you can see, this trip catered to the 20-something crowd.
Meanwhile, outside... this had to have been our safety drill. I do remember the watertight doors shutting behind us as we went to our muster station.
One of the better moments at sea when it was not pouring rain or going sideways.
I would go out just for the sake of going out, even though it was wet. I felt like some Hollywood movie star in this film of crossing the ocean to new adventures... and that is where the James Taylor song would come into play.
Tugboats greeted us as we approached Cherbourg, France.
All of a sudden, after five days at sea, we had disembarked and now were standing in France. My sea-legs stuck with me for several days; I was more dizzy on land than at sea.
Looking back at the good ship that had safely carried us across the Atlantic.
Last view of the QE2 before descending into la gare, and chaos.
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Surely it is because of this trip that I so appreciated working at the Seamen's Church Institute and visiting seafarers. They are the unsung heros in all this; cruise lines tend to treat seafarers as indentured slaves — I did not know that at the time but came to learn of it when I worked at SCI. I have far greater appreciation and respect for the stewards and cabin attendants than I did at the time.
So prayers for those who lost their lives while at work on the Costa Concordia.
2 comments:
Wow... this is very cool. We are right about the same age. I can't even fathom doing something like that at that time. Traveling yes- but by QE2? That is great.
I have so little experience of the industry and how people are treated, but I can only imagine. I do recall that from my one cruise, the people who worked on the ship were extraordinary and seemingly always present.
As I type this I am hearing on NPR that they are using controlled explosives to create entryways to explore for any further survivors in Italy. Prayers for all, prayers for all, the living and the dead.
Thanks for these two posts on sailing the ocean. The closest I came was going to a Bon Voyage party when a friend sailed on the United States. At that time I was in awe of the sheer size of the ship. I have no real desire to go on a cruise and even less after seeing the Concordia disaster. Guess I'll stick with terra "not so" firma!
I did enjoy your recounting of your QE2 adventure.
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