Day 6 on QM2 - Art Deco, Murals and Masquerades

“It had occurred to her many times that on board it didn’t matter where you were coming from or where you were heading. Each voyage had its own charisma. Like writing a book – word by word – or crossing a country – step by step – each minute had to be lived moment by moment.”

 

Sara Sheridan

 

Approaching Ireland and the UK

 

Morning arrived with the now familiar cadence of the ship.  The steady rhythm of the engines, faint vibrations in the hull when large waves broke against the bulbous bow.   These noises and movements had quickly become the background of our days on board Cunard's Queen Mary 2.

 

For the first couple of hours, we stayed in bed, enjoying the chance to relax and catch up on our journals.  There is a particular luxury in knowing that you are still progressing forward in your journey without moving yourself.

 

Somewhere outside lay Ireland and the western approaches to the UK.   The crossing, which only days earlier had seemed vast and unbounded, no longer felt infinite.  We were now well beyond the midway point and once again bound for land.

 

Relaxing in our room, we reviewed the daily program.   Today’s entry read almost like a line from a maritime epic,

 

“After sailing over the Mid Atlantic Ridge Queen Mary 2 will sail towards the Porcupine Abyssal Plain, passing the north of Pendragon Escarpment and King Arthur Canyon.  We will continue proceeding to the south of Bishop’s Rock which traditionally marks the end of an east-bound crossing.  Bishop’s Rock is a small rock ledge, 4 miles to the West of the Isles of Scilly which is home to a lighthouse built in 1858”

 

Porcupine Abyssal Plain? Pendragon Escarpment?  King Arthur Canyon?  The names alone felt mythical - more legend than geology. Yet beneath us, somewhere thousands of metres below the hull, these places existed in cold darkness, mapped and measured but forever unseen from the deck above.

 

We realized we had no clear sense of what any of them truly were. Submarine plains? Underwater cliffs? Deep ocean canyons carved by currents older than nations? The Atlantic was not simply a flat expanse of blue; it was layered, sculpted, textured in ways we would never witness directly.  There is something strangely frustrating about travelling over places with such grand names and knowing you will never lay eyes on them. And yet perhaps that, too, is part of crossing an ocean. Much of what shapes the voyage remains invisible

 

Amid all of this, while QM2 passed over these mid-ocean features, passengers could partake in a huge array of activities on board.  Some of the selections that stood out to us included,

 

9:15 AM - Zumbia with Georgia 

10:30 AM - Morning Trivia – Carinthia Lounge

1:15 PM - Cunard Insight Talk : Dr. Bowler – Meet the Herschels

5:00 PM - Social Shuffle Board

7:00 PM - Dixieland Jazz with the Queen Mary 2 Orchestra

8:45 PM - Masquerade Ball – Queen’s Room

 

On board QM2

Stepping out of our rooms after 10 AM, we grabbed a coffee in the King’s Court and a small pastry but had missed breakfast.  In the Grand Lobby, we paused briefly to examine the official route map, which was being auctioned for The Prince’s Trust. The pencilled arc of our crossing -  New York to Southampton - traced cleanly across the Atlantic. Seeing it laid out like that felt different than watching the daily coordinates scroll across the television screen. It reduced the days of sea into a single elegant curve.

 

Then, as had become our routine, we wandered outside.  We loved being able to stroll, unhurried, along the promenade, or to stop and spend hours (if we wanted) at the railings watching seascapes, photographing passing birds or simply watching the ship’s wake.

 

Today, we found ourselves wondering whether birdlife would begin to increase as we approached Europe. Yesterday’s storm and our mid-Atlantic position had yielded almost nothing. The sky and sea had felt empty.

 

This morning, while our bird sightings remained brief, there was certainly a growing sense that there were a few more gulls and seabirds that occasionally appeared.

 

Captain’s Noon Announcement

 

As it neared midday, passengers paused along the upper balconies and seating areas of the Grand Lobby as the officer of the watch struck the ship’s bell to mark midday.  Following the brief ceremony came the Captain’s Noon announcement.

 

Today, we are proceeding towards Bishop’s Rock and unfortunately, the weather conditions suggest that much of the day will be defined by overcast skies and scattered rain showers, with the possibility of sunshine tomorrow.   Logistically, with yet another time change, we were now in the same time zone as the Azores. 

 

He shared a small nautical lesson as well: the origins of the terms starboard and port. Starboard, from the old “steer-board,” because the rudder was traditionally mounted on the right side of a vessel, most sailors being right-handed. Port, the opposite side, was the one turned toward the dock so that goods could be “ported” aboard without striking the steering gear.  Hearing these terms and their origins felt like being brought deeper into the maritime traditions of the past. 

 

With the day’s announcements done, we wandered the ship, and we noticed masks appearing in the display cases of the Grand Lobby shops. Feathers, sequins, black and gold. Tonight would be the Masquerade Ball.

 

Outside, the decks were quieter. A low fog drifted across the sea, and the horizon was blurred  by clouds at its edges. We walked several circuits of the promenade, scanning instinctively for birds, but saw none.  

 

With the end of the crossing approaching, we found ourselves less inclined to attend lectures or theatre performances. Instead, we drifted through corridors and lounges almost at random, wanting simply to enjoy the space as long as we could.  It was in that spirit that we began paying closer attention to the art and murals throughout Queen Mary 2 - pausing where we might once have walked past.

 

Art Deco and Art on Queen Mary 2

 

Over the past few days, we had begun to notice small refinements.  The floral arrangements shifted subtly each morning – new combinations of colour set in the Grand Lobby and outside of Britannia.  Similarly, in the Clarendon Gallery, paintings were rotated, and different works were hung. 

 

With the crossing drawing towards its close, we decided to spend the morning and early afternoon simply exploring the art and interiors of Queen Mary 2 more deliberately.

Cunard’s connection to Art Deco is not accidental. It is part of the company’s visual language - a design tradition rooted in the 1920s and 30s when ocean liners were statements of national confidence as much as transportation.

     

 

When the original RMS Queen Mary entered service in 1936, she embodied that era: lacquered woods, sunburst motifs, geometric inlays, chrome accents, sweeping symmetry. Art Deco on board was not merely decoration; it was atmosphere - modernity expressed through craftsmanship.

 

When QE2 sailed in 1969, modernism softened the Deco influence, but it never disappeared entirely. With the launch of Queen Mary 2 in 2004, Cunard leaned back into that lineage as a means of continuity.  As we moved through corridors and staircases, pausing at murals and framed pieces, it became clear that design aboard QM2 is not accidental. It is a curated memory. A way of linking this crossing to those that came before.

 

Art, Architecture, and the Spaces Between

 

As we wandered more deliberately, the design language of Queen Mary 2 began to reveal itself not in grand statements, but in repetition.  Geometric patterns appeared in carpet borders and ceiling panels. Stylized lighting - brushed metal and frosted glass - cast symmetrical panels along the main corridors. Lacquered woods and metallic accents reflected light differently depending on the hour. The homage to the great liners was set in all around us.

 

In the Grand Lobby, a bas-relief rendering of the original Queen Mary towers above the space. You can pass it several times before noticing its detail - the sweep of the hull, the funnels rising with quiet authority.

 

Similarly, down the hall in the Britannia Restaurant, your attention is immediately grabbed by the enormous tapestry that dominates the centre of the room - textured, vertical, impossible to ignore.  Around and below it the space unfolds in Deco-inspired curves, balanced lines, and perfect proportions.

 

Elsewhere, the themes shift.

 

Large bas relief metallic murals line the corridors near the Chart Room and the Golden Lion Pub, depicting modern culture, the continents of the world, and maritime navigation.

 

In the stairwells, the art becomes something else altogether.  One staircase features portraits of Cunard’s great ships; another, landscapes from Europe and North America. 

 

Some are filled with paintings of landscapes and seascapes  

While others are still-life renderings of fruit and food. 

And in yet another stairwell – quite unexpectedly - lots of clowns and jesters.

I have to admit, the clown portraits stopped us.  Not because they were interesting or even (at least to us) very good.  But because they seemed oddly placed in an otherwise restrained and conservative setting.   A little research in the library on board revealed that, apparently, clowns – alternating between a sad mime and a mischievous joker are part of Art Deco’s style as a reflection of the search for escapism and appreciation of the dramatic.

 

In other corners of the ship, sometimes in the hallways or in quieter alcoves, are portraits of the Royal Family and one of Samuel Cunard. 

In addition, art deco-style statues stand outside Illuminations. 

 

Interestingly, no two areas feel identical.  Carpet patterns shift subtly from deck to deck and space to space.  Colour palettes remain muted but varied.  Yet it is all well tied together and never repetitive. 

 

High Tea in the Queen’s Room

 

By mid-afternoon, we returned to the Queen’s Room for High Tea. Before tea was served, we watched a short samba dancing lesson take place on the elegant central dance floor - couples moving hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence as they learned.  Neither of us have the talent nor the courage to attempt this type of dancing.

 

The ritual unfolded, as it does each day, with familiar choreography: white-gloved servers clapped into the room by passengers, after which trays of sandwiches and pastries and large teapots are brought out.  High Tea is, without a doubt, one of the most distinctly Cunard moments on board a ship

 

When tea began at 3:30, two fellow Canadians were seated with us. Conversation came easily, with the now usual questions - where are you from, how long have you been aboard,  where are you headed next?

 

Then the lady of the couple mentioned that she was reviewing Queen Mary 2 following her recent drydocking and refresh. Her assessment, however, was unexpectedly sharp.

 

In her view, the ship had declined. Staffing levels were stretched. Service inconsistent. She noted that the introduction of Queen Anne had drawn away roughly a third of the crew from the three established vessels - Queen Victoria, Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Mary 2. According to her, many transfers had not been optional.

 

It was difficult to reconcile her critique with the afternoon unfolding around us - porcelain cups, neatly folded napkins, the quiet precision of service. And yet, we could not entirely dismiss what she described. We had noticed that some dinners stretched well beyond two hours. Courses occasionally arrived unevenly paced. And at least one of our meals had arrived with extraordinarily small proportions

 

But as to her view that the ship was in decline and no longer beautiful, we could not agree at all. 

 

And so, we sipped and listened, we were reminded that every crossing carries multiple versions of itself. One passenger sees decline. Another sees continuity. One measures service. Another notices the atmosphere. For us, the afternoon remained what it had always meant to be - a wonderful pause in the middle of the day.

 

Evening Stroll on the Promenade

 

After lingering over High Tea - and perhaps one or two scones too many - we stepped back outside on the promenade deck.  Outside, the lighting of the day had already begun to change as the evening began

 

Around us, the seas were calm, and the air was unexpectedly warm. 

 

We walked several slow circuits of the ship, enjoying the simple pleasure of stretching our legs again.

 

At the bow, we paused for photographs - Sonya standing with her hiking backpack against the sweep of the Atlantic.   After which, we settled down on a lounge chair to enjoy the sun. With only a few days remaining before arrival, we opened the newly purchased trail guidebooks to find out what lay ahead for us.  Planning in advance is hardly our strongest suit. Even a few days away from beginning, we knew little beyond where each path started, where it ended and how many kilometres were on it. 

 

In truth, we weren’t ready to think about leaving Queen Mary 2 or stepping back onto the trail.  Not yet. 

 

Gala Evening on Queen Mary 2

 

Between 6 and 7 PM, we returned to our cabin to prepare for the second gala night on board.  Outside our door, two envelopes waited in the mail slot – luggage tags for disembarkation in Southampton.  With them, a printed notice that all packed bags were to be placed in the hallway by 11 PM tomorrow night.

 

Ouch. It was a small detail, but it hit hard.

 

We stood there a moment longer than necessary, tags in hand, aware that landfall was near.  Then, we set aside these thoughts for the night, left the tags on our deck, showered, dressed and went out into the evening to enjoy ourselves.

 

Drinks in the Chart Room

 

Still comfortably full from High Tea, we chose to skip dinner and instead made our way to the Chart Room. We were fortunate to find a window seat -  one of our favourite quiet corners on board - and settled in with a glass of Cunard Rosé for Sean and a pint of Cunard Black for me.

 

I was wearing my velvet dress, sequins catching the soft lamplight each time I shifted in my chair. Sean had put on his black three-piece suit. Even after days at sea, it still felt faintly surreal to see one another dressed this way - as though we were briefly inhabiting alternate versions of ourselves.

 

A string trio was playing classical arrangements, and the room hummed with anticipation. Masks appeared everywhere - gilded, feathered, elaborate. Guests leaned toward one another in conversation, adjusting ribbons and laughing as they tested how securely their disguises would hold.

 

Wearing a masquerade mask is romantic in theory.

 

In practice, it is an exercise in negotiation - particularly when trying to sip a drink without dipping a plastic beak or a spray of ornamental feathers into your glass. More than once, I lifted the mask slightly just to avoid baptizing it in stout.

 

Still, the theatre of it was charming. The ship had fully committed to the evening’s illusion, and so, willingly, had everyone else.

 

Masquerade Gala

 

By 8:30, we made our way to the Queen’s Room, which had been transformed for the occasion. Gold and purple banners hung from the ceiling, and the chandelier lighting had been dimmed to cast a warmer glow across the dance floor. 

 

The Queen’s Room had transformed.

 

Gold and purple banners hung from the balconies, and the chandeliers cast a warmer glow across the dance floor. Music ranged from Michael Bublé to Bruno Mars – all of which was energetically performed.

 

Throughout most of the gala, couples moved confidently, looking stylish in their dancing.  Others, like us, were a little more tentative. Regardless, it was fun.

 

At one point, the ship’s professional dancers took the floor for a brief performance - polished, theatrical, precise. Watching them, I felt that – though amazing, it also resembled the mating display of a peacock - elaborate, rhythmic, impossible to ignore.

 

By 10 PM, we briefly slipped away to the Royal Court Theatre for Broadway Rocks - a musical tribute spanning the twentieth century. The cast performed with great energy. It was their final show aboard before disembarking in Southampton.

 

Back in the Chart Room, we joined a small LGBTQ group gathered around a table. Here we joined in on a conversation about world cruises, extended voyages, and favourite crossings.  Several remarked that while other ships may be larger or boast more elaborate dining, Queen Mary 2 holds something harder to quantify: tradition, wonder, and a crew who learned your name and remembered it year after year.

 

No one at the table seemed eager to disembark. Some were already considering extending their voyages. To both sentiments we could relate. 

 

By midnight, we returned to our cabin with lots to think about.

See you on board!

 

Nautical Term of the Day – Hull Speed - The theoretical maximum speed of a displacement hull based on waterline length. Ocean liners were engineered to exceed typical cruise-ship limits.