Embarkation on Queen Mary 2 – Beginning a Transatlantic Crossing

 “The Sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”

 

Jacques Yves Cousteau

 

Repeating a Wonderful Experience

 
Forty-four days of trekking across England and Scotland had left their mark: tired legs, weathered gear, and a deep fatigue that comes not from a single undertaking, but from sustained effort over time.   There was no denying – especially with what lay ahead of us back in our home country on the Trans Canada Trail – that we needed a break now more than ever.

 
Yet, with these realities set out….there is a point which should be made at the outset.  That being said, Sean dislikes, and I mean wildly dislikes, repeating routes and experiences that he has already undertaken.  There are very few exceptions to this in our shared life.  Via Rail’s Canadian, which we have taken many, many times across the nation, but trails?  Never.
 
Growing up in hospitals, dealing with brain tumours and surgeries as a child, he knew too many young people who did not get the opportunity to grow older. Too many people did not get a first attempt at anything. The result of that early awareness is a deeply rooted conviction: life is finite. There are too many paths to walk to spend time walking the same one twice. His instinct has always been forward - a new trail, a new country, a new horizon.
 
And yet, here we are, returning to Queen Mary2.

 
The fact is that some journeys only get better and are more profound with repetition, and this voyage is without a doubt one of them. Crossing the Atlantic in our experiences is unique.  It is not a fixed trail. It is not a marked route carved into the earth. It shifts with weather systems, with currents, with season and tide. Each sailing has different passengers, with different ideas and unique perspectives.  No two voyages are ever the same. Eastbound is not westbound. June is not May.
 
And perhaps more important, we are not who we were six weeks ago. 

Our May crossing carried us from New York to Southampton. In the weeks since, we walked Wainwright’s Coast to Coast from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay, and we crossed Scotland on the Great Glen Way.  We moved from west to east across those landscapes. Now we turn again and head west across the Atlantic - toward home, toward North America, toward the direction in which so much of our own journey has unfolded.
 
There is something, I feel, that is interesting in that reversal.
 

Historical Ties and Relaxing Routines

 
So much of North American narrative is framed as movement westward. The Camino Francés, the Via Podiensis, the Trans Canada Trail - all of these carried us east to west. Now, setting sail from Southampton toward New York, we participate in another historic corridor of movement - one that has bound these two ports together for nearly two centuries.

 
The Port of Southampton has long served as Britain’s maritime gateway. From medieval wool trade to the Mayflower to steamship emigration, from Cunard’s Royal Mail contracts to the great liners of the twentieth century, from troopships in wartime to transatlantic departures today - generations have stepped onto vessels here and left sight of England behind.

 
To undertake a westbound transatlantic voyage is to participate, in some small way, in that lineage.
 
Beyond the particular excitement of regional history and setting out on QM2 is the call back to the rhythms of ocean travel.  The opportunity to step back and return to the familiar and steady atmosphere that we came to so quickly enjoy on our first voyage. 
 
And so, once again, we prepare to sail. Not to repeat a journey. But to inhabit it more fully and to spend more quiet days at sea.  Having already written about QM2’s engineering and history on our eastbound voyage, what strikes us now isn’t what she is, but how she feels to return to.
 

History and Historical Ties

 
Before boarding, we had enjoyed lunch and a pint at a local pub named The White Tavern. The name alone is enough to remind one that this port has been one of Britain’s primary maritime gateways for centuries. Steamships, emigrant vessels, troop transports, and great ocean liners have all departed from these waters. 

White Star Line had its headquarters here and Cunard Line vessels have long maintained transatlantic ties from this harbour. RMS Titanic sailed from Southampton in 1912. During both World Wars, troops embarked and military supplies were delivered to these docks. 

 
It is difficult to stand in Southampton without feeling the history and the region’s ties to the seas.
 
With that said, Southampton does not feel the way New York does. There is no defining skyline reaching improbably into the clouds.  No giant monument like the Statue of Liberty or vast iconic bridges spanning the harbour.  Instead, Southampton, its memories, waterfront, and piers carry something older and more profound – the sense that ships have always left from here and always will.  It is a feeling that this is what the place was created for.  And because of that, this port and the docks that have stood on these shorelines have defined much of Atlantic History.

 
And so, with extra time today before stepping on board, it seemed appropriate to explore parts of this history to understand it – if only a little better than before.  With the couple of hours we had in town before embarkation, we wandered along the old stone walls of Southampton – medieval city walls and foundations.
 
Along the way, we paused at the 1913 memorial to the Mayflower pilgrims and then at the more recent marker commemorating the 400th anniversary of their 1620 sailing in 2020 - reminders that westward crossings from this harbour long predate steam and steel.

 
Nearby, we found a small plaque that noted that author Jane Austen had embarked from here to visit friends for tea.
 
Nearby, the memory of RMS Titanic was everywhere: plaques honouring her passengers, a marble memorial dedicated to the ship’s musicians, and a large monument to the engineer officers who remained below deck.

 
Other plaques marked Southampton’s deep entanglement with both World Wars, when these docks became arteries of troopships and supply convoys.
 
Walking Southampton’s city streets, it quickly became clear that this port has long stood at the crossroads of history. 
 

Embarkation and Beginning the Westbound Crossing

 
There is always a particular kind of excitement in returning to a ship and a voyage that you have enjoyed before.   Though our last voyage on Queen Mary 2 was on the eastbound transatlantic crossing, and this journey would trace a slightly different route, both nonetheless span the same two ports – Southampton and New York.

 
The Atlantic has become, for us, far more than a body of water.  It is a bridge in our slow travels – joining our long hike on the Trans Canada Trail across our home nation with the National Pathways of the UK and pilgrimage routes of Europe.   Our voyages on trails and by sail now span in an unbroken line from Victoria BC to Cape Spear Newfoundland tracing pathways, across the Atlantic by ocean liner, to trails in the UK like Wainwright’s Coast to Coast, the Pennine Way, and Hadrian’s Wall to Caminos in France, Spain and Portugal like the Via Podiensis, Camino Frances, and Camino Portuguese, with the hope of exploring on around the world.

 
Leaving from QE2 Terminal, which is a bit of a dated building that feels more practical and grand, embarkation proceedings here were orderly and unhurried.  Documents were checked, luggage was handed over to the porters, passports examined and boarding passes were approved.  There was no drama, no urgency …just a long steady queue before the journey.  After weeks of navigating train timetables, trail challenges, weather windows, and daily kilometre requirements, surrendering to logistics felt almost luxurious.
 

Back on board Voyage M418

 
Once approved, we were directed upstairs and then onto the gangway.  As we had done almost two weeks ago from a different terminal, we ascended the zigzagging gangway up to the side of the Queen Mary 2’s black hull.  Then we approached and passed through the thick hull doors, and following a quick scan of our boarding passes, we were back on board!

 
In front of us, a line of stewards in red uniforms and white gloves was waiting....at the end of the line was an unformed staff member holding a silver tray full of flutes of champagne – two of which were handed to us.
 
The change in atmosphere was immediate – we were standing in the central well, the Grand Lobby opening up before us.  It's red velvet carpets, polished handrails, soft lighting, and the sweeping double staircase.   Filling the air were the sounds of classical music...somewhere in this elegant space was the string trio already playing!

 
The first time we stepped aboard Queen Mary 2, everything felt grand, unfamiliar, and slightly overwhelming. We studied deck plans, followed the crowd to elevators and later muster stations, and felt the quiet anxiety of not wanting to miss anything. Returning now, something had shifted. We no longer scanned signs, worried about missing announcements or misunderstanding procedures. We didn’t need to prove to ourselves that we belonged on board or rush from venue to venue. Instead, stepping into the Grand Lobby felt less like embarking and more like coming home to a familiar rhythm and back into daily routines that we enjoy.
 
En Route
 
We were soon directed by the staff – likely in an effort to keep the embarkation area free of people – to the main bank of elevators.  Despite having large backpacks on and the fact that our room was only a floor or two away, we were backed into an already full car.  Then, instead of heading to our floor, the elevator ascended to the top of the ship, then down to the lower decks, then back to the Grand Lobby, where it was filled again, and finally it arrived on Deck 6. 

 
As we stepped off the crowded elevator, we could see the staff and stewards already moving through the halls, in the process of dropping off people’s luggage outside their doors.  We made our way to our cabin and found our rolling cases filled with more appropriate formal wear already outside the door.

As on our previous voyage, the plaque with our cabin number – 6185 – doubled as a mail slot.  Today, there were two Cunard envelopes with our names printed on them. Inside were our cabin cards, which would function as cabin keys, onboard payment, and disembarkation credentials. Inserting the card, the door opened, and we stepped in and quickly deposited our large backpacks before pulling our rolling luggage in out of the hallway.

In our room, there was no rush to explore.  After weeks of waking each day with minimum distances to cover, to suddenly stop felt, momentarily, unfamiliar – and yet also wonderful. For the next week, we had nowhere we needed to be.  We could just relax.
 

Britannia Sheltered Balcony Cabin

 
Like the majority of passengers on Queen Mary 2, we have always had a room in Britannia class – mostly typically either an Inside Room (interior room) or Outside Room (with a window). This is a first with a balcony. Well, a Sheltered Balcony to be precise, which placed us and our balcony on the side of the ship rather than being above and open to the air. 

 
The cabin itself felt larger than expected and included a double bed, desk, armchair, couch, storage cupboards and a washroom.  Sitting on the desk, along with a welcome note was a complimentary bottle of Champagne.  A luggage mat lay across the bedspread, protecting it from the inevitable scuffing of suitcases. Maps of the ship, dining information, and the daily program were neatly arranged.

 

When I slid open the balcony door, warm Southampton air rushed inside. The port below was busy with final preparations - baggage carts moving in precise lines, late arrivals wheeling suitcases along the pavement, crew members in reflective safety vests coordinating loading operations.  Above, which gulls drifted lazily between dock and water or stood on the roof of the QE2 terminal entirely unconcerned with any of the activity.

 
Not wanting to stay inside amid such wonderful weather, we splashed some cold water on our faces, changed into lighter and cleaner clothes, and quickly unpacked our dress clothes in the hopes of trying to ensure that our fancy bits and bobs were as little wrinkled as possible.
 
As we completed our few quick errands to put our room in order, we also took the opportunity to look over the daily program
 

Notes from the Navigator and Daily Program Activities

 
Today’s program was essentially a Welcome Aboard message,
 
 “Captain Aseem A. Hashmi MNM hails from the historic City of Coventry in central England and has served with the Cunard Line for 28 years.   Over the years, he has sailed 12 Cunard ships, including the QE2, all current “Queens”, Sagafjord, Vistafjord, Caronia, Cunard super yachts Sea Goddess I & II, Cunard Dynasty, Cunard Countess and the Atlantic Conveyor (Cunard’s last cargo ship).
 
In 2013, Captain Hashmi was decorated with the Merchant Navy Medal (MNM) by the former Sea Admiral West for his work on developing “human factors” in emergencies at sea and in civil aviation and works closely with the Royal Navy.  Captain Hashmi is a keen maritime historian, a member of the British Titanic Society, the Cunard Steamship Society and a Younger Broth of Trinity House.
 
The Captain & ship’s company of RMS Queen Mary 2, warmly welcome you aboard the Cunard flagship as we set sail on our Westbound trans - Atlantic, next port of call is New York.  We wish you a most pleasant journey and relaxing voyage with us as you indulge in our legendary, elegant & memorable White Star Service. 
 
We are distinctly Cunard – Bon Voyage!”

Inside the daily program were lists of potential activities that passengers could enjoy for the day. Typically, activities are fairly low-key for embarkation day with a focus on orientation and atmosphere.
 
12:30 AM – Welcome Aboard Music with the Harmony String Trio
5:00 PM – LQBTQ+ Social Hour
5:15 PM – Harmony String Trio, Commodore Club
9:00 PM – Commodore Club Live with Pianist Campbell Simpson
11:45 PM – Party Band ‘Clique’ – G32
 

Muster Stations and Departure Preparations

 
We attended our muster station, had our cards scanned, and returned to the open decks as departure time approached. The waters of the Solent lay calm under clear skies. Compared to our fog-soaked departure from Brooklyn in May, this felt almost serene.
 
Up on deck, I had opted for practicality over romance or style.   As such, I wore a new short-sleeved black shirt and my hiking skort, chosen specifically to avoid the inevitable Atlantic gust that delights in lifting fabric without warning, transforming a moment of grace into one of humiliation.  Besides, it was very warm out.  After more than a month of near-constant rain while walking the national pathways back and forth across the UK, the sun had returned, and temperatures had risen.

 
Around the ship, the Solent’s calm waters and clear skies, ships and shore infrastructure were all reminders that we were still very much tied to a man-made world.  Everything going on – both on the ship and the docks below - was done with professionalism, patience and practiced experience.  Around it all gulls moved easily between water and land, indifferent to our impending voyage.

 

One of the things we love about Southampton was precisely this lack of theatricality.  It wasn’t just scenic beauty or towering skylines pushing spectacle.  It was real life – an active port doing what ports have always done.  Standing on deck, looking down from the top of Queen Mary 2, the scale of the ship was once again astonishing. 
 
Beyond everything, however, now back on board this beautiful, familiar environment – one that we had left only five or 6 weeks earlier – we felt a great, unexpected sense of gratitude for the opportunity to once again voyage on QM2 across the Atlantic Ocean.
 

Departure from Southampton

 
From the upper deck, the black funnel with its red Cunard fingers towered above us. We watched as tugboats positioned themselves carefully around the hull. Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the vibration beneath our feet deepened.  Lines were pulled back on board, and then we began to move.  The ship turned with measured grace. The motion again changed subtly, and the engines strengthened.  The current began to take hold as we began edging toward the deeper parts of the channel.   As it did so, flocks of gulls gathered in our wake, riding the air currents with effortless precision and watching the water for the opportunity for a snack.

 

As we picked up speed, it was not long before the warmth of the afternoon gave way to the cooler winds and breezes created by our forward motion.  As such, I soon reached or, and slipped on a long thing sweater.  And so it was – flutes of champagne in hand – that we stood on the aft deck of the ship as we made our way toward open water.  There is no denying that there is always something faintly surreal about this moment – a glass full of bubbles, the salt air pushing past, and the feel of this grand vessel pushing out to sea as the shoreline shrinks behind.

 

Today, astern of us, the new Cunarder Queen Anne followed us out into the English Channel.  Though a newer build and designed as a large modern cruise ship, even she seemed to deter to the scale and lineage of the world’s last ocean liner.  As we progressed not far apart, the two sister ships blew their horns signalling not just their departure but the passing of two Queens to all on shore.

 

We navigated down the channel, passing familiar markers of the Solent and curving around the Isle of Wight before the broader sweep of the English Channel and Atlantic opened up ahead of us.   It was not long before we were free from land and on our way – a combination of the late hour, fading daylight and distance. As the coastline faded and the open water took its place, the ship settled into her course. We did the same.
 

Evening Relaxation

 
As the evening went on – before dinner and the formalities of the night began – we returned to our cabin and opened the complimentary “bottle” of champagne which had been left in our room.  Though the notion of it being a bottle may be generous, in truth, it was more of a sampler, just enough to fill two modest flutes.   Still, it seemed the perfect way to begin.  A toast to the beginning of our westbound crossing. 

 
We stepped out onto our sheltered balcony – a completely new experience for us.  On previous voyages, we had watched departures and sunsets from the promenade, pacing its length or standing at the aft of the vessel with other passengers.  Now the Atlantic was framed differently.  More private, more contained.  The ship was moving, but we were alone together ...for the moment.

 
Beyond the salt-sprayed railings of our balcony, the skies were lit up in bands of colours that stretched across the horizon.  At first reflected in the waters and not long after dissolving into deeper blues.  We stood, leaning on the railing and watching quietly together. 
 
It was a graceful and gentle beginning – perhaps not dramatic – but it was simply the right way to ease into another week at sea.
 

Dinner in Britannia

 
Now firmly headed westbound, we freshened up and changed clothes into something a little more formal.  For our first dinner back on board, Sean was dressed in a blue dress shirt and black pants, while I slipped on a long blue dress.  

 
Ready, we stepped out of our cabin and made our way down to the ship’s main restaurant – Britannia.

 
Here, for the first time, we were seated at a two-person table beside a large window, the lingering glow of sunset still visible outside. Service resumed its familiar rhythm. Sean began with a garden salad; I chose the wild mushroom risotto. Our main course was potato gnocchi. In the end, I added a warm cherry clafoutis tart in raspberry sauce, justifying it as replenishment after weeks of caloric deficit.

First Night back on Board QM2

 
Ordinarily, our first evening on Queen Mary 2 would have stretched out longer – a visit to the Chart Room or perhaps a final drink as we lounged in the Commodore Club, lingering over music and conversation as the ship continued on steadily.   But the exhaustion of the past six weeks – lulled by the relaxing rhythm of the ship around us – finally caught up with us.  Forty-four days of near continuous hiking across England and Scotland do not simply vanish because one steps onto teak decks and sits at elegant dining tables. 

As such, not long after dinner, we returned to our cabin instead.  We made a strong mint tea, carried the mugs carefully through the sliding door and stepped out once more onto our sheltered balcony.  Here, the cool night air rushed past, carrying the smell of open waters.

 
Above us, the stars lit up the sky with unexpected clarity.   Around us, the waters of the English Channel rolled in long, gentle swells.  It would be a calm and peaceful night on board.

And for our first night back, it was perfect.
 
See you on board!
 
Nautical Term of the Day – Trade Winds - For centuries, the steady easterlies propelled sailing ships from Europe toward the Caribbean. Modern vessels still account for these wind belts when planning efficient transoceanic routes.