Part Three
URBANNA — That first night at sea as we steamed north up the coast of the Atlantic Ocean to enter the great circle passage bound for England, I dreamt of that beautiful line in a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow … “ships that pass in the night.” What imagery. Once read such lovely lines repeat themselves again and again in my dreams. I thought as I drifted off to sleep that poetry lines remembered is a little like ships passing in the night.
The next morning, I was immediately aware of feeling “funny.” Something was not quite right. The cabin was atilt and there was a strange shudder in the ship that I did not like. I stumbled, no, lurched as I moved to dress and then realized I was feeling a bit, oh please God, no! … seasick.
I moved with the speed of a cobra striking its prey for my purse and the Dramamine I had packed — just in case. I was unpleasantly surprised a ship as large as Queen Mary would feel any movement from the sea,
“We’re at sea, my dear,” said Chip exuberantly, ex-Navy and apparently quite used to lurching as he walked. “This reminds me of the years I spent in the ‘Med’ and South China Sea!” he added as if happy to feel the sea roll underneath us. But I wondered how long it would take before the Dramamine worked.
Breakfast arrived and we opened the door to the verandah to let the fresh sea air into the room. I felt better after eating the hearty breakfast of eggs and “streaky bacon” (what the English call bacon to distinguish it from what we call “Canadian” bacon.)
We decided the first business of the day was to explore all 13 decks on the Queen Mary. The first stop was the library to get some good reading material, for one never wants to be caught anywhere without a good book. I chose a Graham Greene and a Joseph Conrad novel, two favorite writers as I quite like reading dead, white, male, European authors.
We took the elevator down to the seventh “Promenade Deck” to join the hundreds of walkers getting their morning exercise. One full circle on the walking deck was a third of a mile so we circled three times to make our usual mile trip back in Urbanna to the Methodist Church from Kent Street and back.
It was a windy day, 55 degrees and 39 knot winds off the deck, and I realized Florida clothes I had packed were as useless as a bikini in the Yukon. It was cold. I only had brought a sweater thinking, after all, it was July, but fortunately Chip’s clothing which I could borrow while out on the deck was much more practical.
It was a good thing we took that morning walk as early as we did because by noon we were engulfed in heavy fog that erased the world around us. On deck it was like walking through milk. I thought it strange to take a cruise and not be able to see the ocean.
Immediately the horn of the Queen Mary began to blast every minute or so to warn other ships she was coming through the fog. It was eerie. The horn is an iconic sound (you can listen to Queen Mary’s horn on YouTube — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbJotEpJ-pA.)
The fog lasted three days and three nights and the horn never stopped blowing. I loved hearing it and kept the door open on our verandah so I could better hear it.
The sound took me back to my childhood in Vermilion, Ohio, when on a foggy night on Lake Erie I could hear the foghorn blasting away at the light at Huron to warn passing freighters. Now, 75 years later, I lay in my berth, just as I had done so long ago, excited at the sound and surrounding fog and smiling at the memory of what Father called the freighters, “big boys,” silently passing by … but then eventually falling asleep in the depths of fog just as I did now. Such sweet dreams.
The ship had loads of “activities” going morning, noon and night, which interested Chip while I chose to spend my mornings working crossword puzzles and reading. Chip especially enjoyed the speaker programs. One morning he heard from a pathologist that explained what could be learned from examination of a victim of foul play. Another speaker was a British Marine who was badly wounded in Iraq and how he had struggled to recover. Such programs, however, could not compete with Greene and Conrad.
There is nothing more exhilarating than the intimate connection a reader has with an author; a close connection to thoughts, feelings and adventures to the extent the reader can get right into an author’s brain.
My cabin attendant was a Filipino. I mentioned I had just seen the movie “McArthur” which depicted the suffering of his people during World War II. He told me of his grandfather’s suffering during that time and that MacArthur had rescued his country. But he added that China was threatening the Philippines now, challenging fishing boats, territorial waters, even lasering their ships.
I thought how fickle history was. It keeps repeating yet allies and enemies keep changing almost like acts in a circus. Always the same problem — greed for more land. Human aggression never ends and there’s always a new tyrant emerging on the horizon.
(To be continued next week)
© 2023
Note: I am sad to report the loss of the much beloved golden retriever in Urbanna, “Lincoln” of Cross Street, who passed away from old age. Lincoln always came out to greet me when I walked by his house every day as if he understood I needed to pet a golden. I did. He will be missed.
