As I mentioned in a previous post, a trip to sunny Los Angeles provided me with the opportunity to stay onboard the classic ocean liner, Queen Mary.
Built in 1934 for the Cunard Line, Queen Mary transported passengers across the Atlantic until she was retired in 1967. Since then, she has had an interesting history full of success and failures, multiple owners, and an uncertain fate if (a lot of) money isn’t spent to preserve her as a floating hotel and museum.
Pictures on the hotel’s website and social media channels picture her well maintained with shiny wood appointed staterooms that harken back to a time when traveling by ship was a relaxing and glamorous experience. Unfortunately, immediately upon arrival, you can tell that things are going to be somewhat different.
Looking at the ship from the parking lot, you can see that one of her three funnels is covered up as work to paint or repair is being done. Side note, these are not the ship’s original funnels. The originals were removed long ago and these are simply replicas.
Paint on the outside, public facing side of the ship was kept up, with its bold black, red and white glistening brightly. But as you get closer, there is rust everywhere.
Once inside, you begin to step back in time. The check-in desk for the hotel is small and we waited in line for a bit while other guests were attended to. Above the desk are clocks showing time from various places around the world, some correct some not.
Once my room key was in hand it was time to head off to my stateroom which happened to be on M-Deck, M-033 to be exact. The corridors leading to the staterooms are dark, with wood lined walls, bowed floors, and the occasional odd “box” sticking out of a wall or the top of a ceiling that used to house some type of equipment.
Doors to staterooms are made of wood and are very thin. Original door hardware has been removed and more modern card readers installed. Staterooms are not laid out like they are on today’s ships. They are just scattered about everywhere! You may find a door leading to one along a wall, or you may find a short hall that leads to two or three rooms, and then you’ll find some inside staterooms in between the port and starboard sides of the ship.
It’s a very odd, confusing layout to say the least. Should you go venturing off around the ship, you can very easily get lost, or end up on a dead-end or find yourself going up and down stairs looking for an exit and not finding any!
Many of the elevators have been taken out of service with only a few main ones left. While the doors and hardware remain visible, signs indicate that what once was an elevator, no longer is.
Now it’s time to open the door and take a look inside the stateroom that I called home for three days. But first, let’s take a look at what the Queen Mary’s website shows for the room I had, a King Deluxe Stateroom with porthole views of Long Beach:
Now, let’s open the door into M-033 and see what my stateroom was like.
The room consisted of a king bed, an armchair, two banquet (yes, banquet) chairs and a small table.
A writing table/desk, which I can assume was original, was attached to the wall. I couldn’t help but wonder how many letters or postcards were written from this table since the 30’s.
Transatlantic travel back in the golden age saw people travel with large wardrobes, so one would expect there to be plenty of closet space onboard the Queen Mary. There was a closet, but I can’t imagine it holding much.
The original air vents to keep the stateroom cold or warm were left, however, more modern means of heating/cooling keep everything climate controlled.
For cold nights, staterooms had their own heater. These are also disconnected.
A note for modern travelers, the staterooms on the Queen Mary are outlet deficient. In my room, there was only one, so plan accordingly if you want to charge your electronics! Power strips are a must if you’re staying here.
The living area itself was old and not very well maintained. The paint was dirty, the ceiling had handprints on workman’s panels for the HVAC, the portholes were missing hardware and the room was just bland. It did not take me back to the glory days of ocean travel, it took me to what I think would be a bad Comfort Inn. On the plus side, the bed was comfortable.
Now, the most important part of the stateroom… the bathroom! Brace yourself! Remember, we’re talking 1930’s here, ok? Are you ready?
The sink, which originally had two taps, now just had one with a more modern hot/cold fixture. A medicine cabinet was above the sink and to the left a small shelf for storage.
The toilet was a bit odd. The lid goes back against the wall with all exposed pipes visible, but the traditional flush handle was nowhere to be found. But there was this crazy handle on the wall. After playing around with it, I found that it was the mechanism to flush the toilet. You simply pushed it towards the wall and water flowed into the toilet until you released it. I can’t imagine this being acceptable in water conscious California as it seems to be incredibly wasteful, but it worked. You can see how in the video below.
The tub was a different story. Modern shower head and controls replaced the various valves still left from long ago which used to allow you to bathe with a choice of sea or regular water. Imagine that! The tub itself was the absolute most uncomfortable contraption I’ve ever been in. Once you stood in it, you were standing in what I can best describe as a deep v-trough unlike tubs today with a wide flat bottom. Very painful on the arches!
Of course, I had to take a video of how to flush the toilet!
The second issue was that when I checked in, the toilet paper roll was nearly at the end of its life. There was no spare. None. Nothing! No extra roll hiding in a cabinet or on a shelf. I panicked but made it with one or two squares to spare the next day when it was replaced by housekeeping.
The stateroom itself is quite a departure from what one would expect in a hotel. I’m told that every room onboard the Queen Mary is different in its own unique way. So what you see in mine may not be representative of what each is like, but I was expecting a little better upkeep.
Another word of caution! The walls between rooms are thin. Sometimes you think they’re not there at all. You can literally hear the people next to you and every word of their conversation. No, I’m not joking. I sat in bed one morning listening to the man and woman talk over breakfast about their plans for the day and heard them make dinner reservations over the phone for later that night.
Signs in the hallway alert you to this, but don’t come out and say… “Hey, your neighbor can hear every word you say, keep it quiet!”
That’s a look around my stateroom. I’ll take you to more areas around the ship in the next installment!