Remembrance of ships past

The QE2 as she sails out of New York harbor for the last time, Oct 16, 2008

As I said, I celebrated my sixth birthday on a ship, heading across the Pacific; Mom, Ray and I were rejoining Dad, who had spent six months in Korea and was now stationed in Tokyo. The crossing was memorable for a severe storm that threw me from the top bunk; I loved it. Even more memorable was my birthday party, when the Mr. Potato Head game we were playing was interrupted by an urgent call over the loud speaker. Today it would be something like "Code seven, code seven;" back then it was the more honest "Man overboard!" The captain stopped the ship, ordered dye thrown in the water to mark the spot and sent out a boat. The jumper was never found. Rumor had it that it was a heart-broken GI on his way to Korea, but we never knew for sure. The tumult of everyone rushing to the side of the ship has stayed with me.

I crossed the Pacific again by ship in 1963 after our second tour in Japan. I had just finished ninth grade and shared a cabin with my brother and a friend. There was a fourth bunk but it was, fortuitously, as you shall see, never occupied. We had a great time; two weeks on the ocean, living more or less on our own as our parents had their own cabin in another part of the ship. The USNS Patrick was no luxury liner of course but it was a great playhouse for a 14-year old.

Before we arrived in California we stayed up all night and, with shoe polish and a sheet from that unused bed, fashioned a crude skull and crossbones. Just before dawn we hoisted it under the American flag and, remarkably, no one noticed it for quite some time. We sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge flying a pirate flag! It was magical. Just on the other side of the bridge we heard the captain bellow, "Mate, bring that flag to the bridge." We knew we were in for it and we assumed Dad was about to be busted a rank or two.

At the gangway the Captain was saying goodbye to the families. When the Foerys approached he asked us to step aside for a minute. Holy shit, here it comes. Instead he thanked us for giving him his most memorable crossing and asked if he might keep the flag. My parents eyes flew open wide as their jaws nearly hit the deck. He shook our hands and wished us a safe journey.

Nothing onboard has ever topped that adventure but there have been many good times on many ships: my first sailing as an adult on the Queen Anna Maria, with my lifelong friend Don; three more sailings with Don, first on Costa's Carla C, then on Carnival's first ship, the Mardi Gras, and finally on Cunard's glorious QE2; two sailings with Ransom and his orchestra, Solisti New York, on Holland America; two QE2 transatlantic crossings and a QM2 Caribbean cruise; a sailing with my dear friend Elaine on the ill-fated Norway (former SS France); a nasty week aboard the Norwegian Dawn; and finally, four lovely sailings on Celebrity.

There are stories about all of those sailings but the one common thread is the simple joy of being on a ship on an ocean. Over time I have become content to simply relax, eat well and enjoy the ocean. Ransom and I don't go to the shows or the casino and we rarely partake of the daytime activities. Cruising for us is about being together and conserving our energy for the next battle with the real world.

And it's about the ship. And the ocean.