RMS Queen Mary.
Launched in 1934, the RMS Queen Mary held the title of the fastest Atlantic crossing until the coming of the SS United States (see last month’s column) in the 1950s. The RMS designation stands for “Royal Mail Ship.” She was designed to be converted into a troop transport if the need arose with a capacity of 15,000 soldiers.
After the advent of jet trans-Atlantic flights in the late 1950s she and similar liners became obsolete. Some were converted into cruise ships in the Caribbean, but since they were designed to cross the north Atlantic in all types of weather, that had a limited success.
Finally, after several years of languishing, enter the city of Long Beach, California with a plan to convert her into a convention center/luxury hotel/museum/tourist attraction.
I happened to be living in California at the time, and for a couple of years, we sailed past her at her berth on Terminal Island, where she was being refurbished and converted. It was interesting to see the transformation from aging hulk into a beautiful showpiece.
It took a couple of years for the conversion, and on the big day when she would be towed to her permanent berth, there were estimated to be 700 to 1,000 sightseeing boats in the harbor. Although we had to be up at the crack of dawn, it was worth it to be part of the spectacle.
A year or two later, my in-laws came to visit. My father-in-law had sailed back from Europe aboard her at the end of WWII as a gunnery sergeant in command of an anti-aircraft battery. He gave us a tour and showed us his action station, which had been restored as it was during the war. Being on the gun crew had some advantages, such as having three meals a day instead of only two. They also had their own bunks. The rest of the troops had to sleep in shifts, and their day was spent lining up for chow, eating and sleeping. (Also, a little-known secret was that there were 15,000 troops on board, but only enough lifeboats for 5,000!)
While I was living out there, my best friend, a fireman, two of his cohorts and I were sailing past the Queen while she was undergoing restoration. One of them got the bright idea “Let’s see if we can get on board and get some souvenirs.”
There was a big hatch, about 10’ by 10’, open on our side of the ship, about 30 feet above the waterline. We figured any security would be focused on the side of the ship facing the pier, so I pulled up beside the hatch on our side and the three firemen scampered up my ratlines and hopped aboard. I motored across the channel and waited for the pick up signal.
About an hour later one of them appeared at the big hatch, waved at me and dove into the water. I had just picked him up when the next one signaled from a smaller hatch on the same level and dove in. We got him on board and waited for the third “raider.” Finally, he appeared on the next deck up, squeezing through a porthole. It appeared that he was being extruded out of it. We got him on board and beat a hasty retreat.
They had somehow alerted security and there must have been half a dozen guards scouring the ship searching for the intruders. He said that he had locked himself in a stateroom with the deadbolt, and the only way out was the porthole. Meanwhile, nobody got any souvenirs as the ship had been stripped of everything portable, so the entire exercise was a waste of time!
About 20 years ago I was at a sales meeting in LA and one afternoon, when everyone else was playing golf, a few of us broke free and toured the Queen. She was much as I remembered her, part convention center, part museum and now with the addition of a high-end restaurant open to the public. Last time I checked, she was still operating and attracting people to Long Beach.
I doubt that anyone in 1934 thought that she would still be afloat and turning a profit into the next century!
Photo: by John Bradley
