What It’s Like Aboard the ‘Queen Mary 2,’ the World’s Only Ocean Liner
The ocean liner rose as the 30-foot-high swell passed beneath the hull. After a slight pause, it surged forward, careening to the bottom of the wave trough with a bang and a deep shudder.
It was the wee hours of the morning, so I starfished my arms and legs across the bed, hoping to stay in the same position long enough to fall asleep. Then the 1,000-foot-plus vessel lurched upward and plunged downward even faster, leaving my stomach somewhere on the ceiling. Several small, unsecured items fell and skittered across the cabin floor. Popping out of bed, I rolled with the motion of the boat like a drunken sailor to the balcony door and yanked the curtain.
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The darkness seemed absolute, but as I pressed my nose against the glass, I spotted flashes of white. Towering, wind-whipped wave crests were careening past my Deck 4 Britannia cabin at eye level, three stories above what should’ve been the waterline.
We were in the middle of the North Atlantic in January, en route from New York to Southampton, England. The “complex weather” our captain predicted, with British understatement, on leaving the port three days earlier, clearly had arrived.
Many of the vessel’s “groupie” passengers routinely made the North Atlantic crossing only in mid-winter, relishing the cheaper fares and, even more so, the potentially wild weather patterns. Over cocktails in the bow-facing Commodore Club on Deck 9, these off-season veterans cheered every time the boat crested a wave and slammed into the seas.
Fortunately, we were aboard Cunard’s Queen Mary 2. The 2,700-passenger ship is the world’s last working ocean liner; unlike cruise ships, the 1,132-foot, 14-deck vessel is designed to make year-round transatlantic crossings in extremely demanding conditions.
After leaving Red Hook in Brooklyn, we had three days to enjoy the boat in brisk January conditions before the storm front arrived. Cunard designed the Queen Mary 2 with plenty of grand, old-world British luxury, but with all the modern conveniences of a contemporary cruise vessel.
The Britannia Restaurant was dressed in reds, wood, and hand-crafted glass ceilings (not Tiffany, but you get the idea), and I was assigned a shared table with other solo travelers for the entirety of the cruise—one of whom disappeared to his cabin after the storm started.
The vessel also has the Royal Court Theatre, a casino, a gym, a spa, multiple restaurants, bars and cafes, evening entertainment, and the only planetarium at sea (constellations were projected onto a retractable dome on the Illuminations venue’s ceiling). The accommodations ranged from a basic Britannia Standard Inside room (no windows) on the lower end to the multi-room duplex Balfour Suite in the upscale Queens Grill category, measuring over 2,200 square feet, for couples or families. Each Queens Grill suite comes with a butler, niceties inside the suites, and special tables at the exclusive Queens Grill Restaurant and other events.
I quickly found a few favorite spots. Deck 3L is a tucked-away little corridor with bucket seats in the windows sitting almost at the waterline. Before and after the storm, I loved to sit there, put my feet up and just watch the sea. Sir Samuels, the onboard café, also prompted a daily visit (storm or no storm) for a hot latte and jam-filled pistachio pastry.
On the first full day at sea, I stepped onto the wrap-around teak promenade deck and merged into a steady stream of walkers. Three laps around the boat is 1.1 miles, but I quickly lost count as I took in the details, from the long lines of traditional wooden deck chairs to the eight propeller blades, each with diameters of roughly 20 feet, perched like modern art at the bow and nicknamed the Commodore’s Cuff Links.
The spares are for the gigantic propellers connected to four Rolls-Royce/Alstom Mermaid propulsion Pods. Each pod weighs 320 tons, as much as a fully loaded Boeing 747. Two can rotate 360 degrees and serve as the vessel’s rudder, giving it unusual maneuverability.
Knowing the scale of this propulsion system bolstered my confidence that the vessel could handle what was coming. Conditions deteriorated as we sailed northeast between Nova Scotia and Sable Island. The deepening storm system would pass ahead of us as we made an eastward turn on the Great Circle Route, putting the wind and seas behind us.
“Most people will find following seas most comfortable,” Capt. Andrew Hall, who has been in command of Queen Mary 2 since 2020, tells Robb Report. “The ship can be considered to be surfing along in the conditions with a generally comfortable motion.”
But Force 10 conditions arrived within 48 hours, with sustained winds between 55 and 63 mph and gusts up to 72. Mountainous, spindrift-streaked seas built to 33 feet, their crests whipped to pieces as they heaved and rolled.
On the most boisterous night, when I was clinging to my bed at 2 am, the ship’s motion was enough to send breakfast place-settings to the floor and collapse a shelf of liquor bottles in the G32 nightclub. Outside, temperatures dropped below freezing with bitter wind chills, and snow caked the outdoor decks. Queen Mary 2 charged ahead, and while excess motion was inevitable in these conditions, the ship did not deliver that dreaded stomach-wrenching combination of pitch and roll known as scend—thanks to its hull design, propulsion, and stabilizers.
“QM2, as QE2 before her, was designed and built to cope with the sometimes challenging conditions of the North Atlantic, year round,” Hall said. “QM2, being somewhat larger than QE2, arguably handles such conditions [better] than QE2 once did.”
Even so, seasickness bags appeared in stairwells and public areas. Activities and dinner seatings became more lightly attended. Public announcements reminded passengers to see the ship’s doctor if over-the-counter, anti-nausea remedies were not effective.
Yet shipboard life continued cheerfully, especially with the more gung-ho group that emerged. As mentioned, many of the passengers (the boat seemed to be about 75 percent full) deliberately choose winter crossings so they can take advantage of lower prices but more likely revel in the wild beauty of the North Atlantic, a place most people will never see.
The new passengers were nervous; the old salts, however, welcomed every big wave, crowded into the windows to take photos and video, and went outside every chance they got.
That was evident even at my dinner table in the soaring Britannia Restaurant. Occasionally, the lower-deck windows plunged into the churning gray water, eliciting awestruck ooohs and appreciative laughter. Then the hum of conversation resumed, punctuated with the clink of crystal tumblers and Cunard’s own Wedgwood china.
Throughout the four-day storm, we still dressed for dinner in gowns, cocktail dresses, and tuxedoes— some of the men even wore full Scottish regalia, kilts and all. We savored multiple-course meals and then pinballed along brightly lit companionways and through the ornate Grand Lobby as we sought evening entertainment. In the theater, we had to hold onto the seats as we made our way in and out.
Ballroom dancing lessons happened every day, and we attended enrichment lectures and astronomy shows in Illuminations. We lined up for the white-glove afternoon tea service in the Queen’s Room. We applauded the Royal Court’s theatrical performances, Queen’s Room dancing, and live music in multiple lounges.
The storm remained the biggest thrill, however. During a lull, when it was safe to go outside, passengers and crew built snowmen and tossed snowballs on the promenade deck until a fresh squall chased everyone inside.
“It’s nice to see some exciting conditions from time to time, and to see Queen Mary 2 handle exactly what she was designed for,” Hall said. “Slightly adverse sea conditions might not be that unusual, but it is rare that we have snow on deck. The Mareel Spa team built an excellent snowman.”
Hall even incorporated the snowman’s status into his daily briefing, encouraged the use of well-placed handrails, and reassured all aboard that Queen Mary 2 was made for this.
Eventually, the wind backed to the south and conditions eased. The winter sun warmed the ship’s starboard side. Passengers filled the deck chairs, and balcony doors opened wide to the fresh sea air.
I savored our solitary circle of sea and sky, because I knew we would soon enter the English Channel’s heavily trafficked shipping lanes. I paused my stroll on the promenade deck to take a photo of the storm-tossed sea, but then a gleam caught my eye.
The Queens Grill Restaurant was just to my left. This is the dining room for those who book Queen Mary 2’s most luxurious suites, including the two-story penthouses. I could see tables beautifully set for dinner, adorned with fresh flowers and golden lamplight. Somehow, the juxtaposition of this timeless elegance with the vast ocean seemed to capture the unique magic of an ocean liner on the celebrated North Atlantic run.
“Queen Mary 2 is a very special ship,” Hall told me in an email after the voyage. “She remains one of a kind and has an understandably loyal and dedicated following [among] both her guests and crew.”
Even, and perhaps especially, in the winter.
The cost for my sheltered balcony stateroom was about $1,600, before adding the drinks package, Wi-Fi access and tips. At press time, for the same voyage on Jan. 3, 2025, a less-expensive interior stateroom was $1,248 for one passenger (with single supplement) and $1,338 for two passengers. At the top end, the Queens Grill Grand Duplex costs upwards of $32,000 for two.
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