A SAILING WE WILL GO

Sunday, May 8^th- Monday, May 9^th

We forgot to mention a detail that our neighbor, Karin, would want us to include about our beautiful, German bath room. The hotel management included a single, long-stem rose in a clear bud vase on the window sill!

After a wonderful, long sleep, we were awakened by the horn of the Queen Mary as she arrived in the port about four miles away. After breakfast, we wandered the neighborhood with its canals and handsome houses with private docks and gardens. Many had survived the war. In the park, a lady was trying to give some dogs agility training, but they were more interested in playing. People were jogging, walking briskly, exercising, and enjoying the warm, sunny day.

We'd read that the QM II was to be the star of the harbor festival's closing parade of ships, but never could we have imagined what a celebration it would be. Our dinner table overlooked the city, so we had front row seats as we pulled away from the dock. Then we saw the people. They lined the water's edge like a broad, multi-colored fringe, often as close as a hundred yards. They stood on tops of buildings, on balconies, and up the hillsides. They hung out of windows and massed along the beaches. And these crowds went on for miles and miles. The ship's captain announced that 6 million spectators were expected! And it certainly seemed as if they all showed up!

They were not there just to see us, although the QM II is apparently something of a celebrity in town. In addition, there were tour boats, tug boats, rubber boats, inboards, outboards, sailing ships of all sizes and shapes from small single-masts to four-masts, a Spanish galleon that Columbus could have felt at home in, a sinister gray destroyer, our pilot boat, a police boat to keep other small boats from coming too close, Chriscrafts that the Great Gatsby might have owned, a long canoe with eight or ten men paddling furiously, the African Queen, a kayak with one man juggling the choppy wakes of all the motor boats, a skiff tacking in the breeze, a container ship loaded down with stacked crates, cabin cruisers of all sizes, and clusters of speedboats buzzing about like hungry mosquitoes.

And all the people on the ships, on the shore, and on our ship were shouting, pointing, whistling, and waving flags, scarves, towels, and tee-shirts. When we passed one four or five story building, a group of young revelers (from last night's heavy rock concert?) were on the balcony and in each window waving full-sized sheets while a loud speaker played Deutchland Uber Alles, and God Save the Queen. Boats that had whistles blew them, and the Queen, when something moved the pilot, responded with three blasts of its basso-profundo horn.

After dinner, we joined others on the promenade deck, eventually settling into wooden deck chairs to watch the show. Three or four middle-aged German women were next to us waving green scarves and generally whooping it up. In all, the send-off lasted over two and a half hours.

We later learned that out of 2600+ passengers on the ship, only 800 of us are continuing on to New York along with 700 who'll board in Southampton. It is strange on this most British of all ships to have German be the common language including most public announcements and signages. That may not be the case after today.

This will be our last post till we are home. Today we are walking around Southampton, England on a lovely day!