“Our tour guide knew that this clock was a very important piece of nautical history but dismissed the whole thing, saying ‘you will need someone far more intelligent than me to explain it all.’”

Sunday, January 13 was a nice crisp sunny day in Manhattan. The streets were busy, as usual, and it was warm enough that shoppers and locals stood about chatting. Dog walkers were busy doing that annoying thing in which they let their dogs expand across the walkways on those extendable leads. Nothing was notable from any other weekend day, unless, that is, you walked all the way west to the shores of the Hudson River, specifically in the lower-40 blocks. For it was there, at Pier 88, that monarchy had decided to descend on the city: Two Cunard Line cruise ships, the Queen Elizabeth 2 (aka the QE2) and the Queen Victoria were anchored side-by-side; around the corner, at the relatively new Brooklyn Cruise Terminal in the neighborhood of Red Hook, sat the Queen Mary (more of it later).

The last time members of the upper echelon of British nobility were on these shores was last May when Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and His Royal Highness Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh (please excuse this formality, but I am British, and I am not sure if I am not committing some sort of treason by not stating their titles thus) came to Virginia and Washington, D.C., to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the Jamestown settlement.

Excitement was in the air, or in the gentle waves, at least, in the short space between the QE2 and the Queen Victoria, which was in New York City for the first time after finishing her first transatlantic sailing. The QE2 looks a little old. Dated, but in a sleek, cool way, the idea that you are looking at something that often as a proper noun will be followed by the words “Golden Age of Travel,” or “When Travel was Gentler,” meaning that it was too expensive for most of us to be able to enjoy. It is thin, which gives it the appearance of being long. It is long, but only a few feet shorter than the Queen Victoria. It is also lower. While with the Queen Victoria you can see where all the huge public spaces are, in the QE2 I had to imagine. It looks as though it has room only for cabins.

Taking photographs was a crowd of people. Cunard Lines had done a good job of promoting the fact that their three ships were all together for the first and last time ever (ever, ever, ever was a mantra that I heard all day), and Manhattanites and tourists were out in force. Cunard even came up with a snappy title for this, the Royal Rendezvous, which meant that for reasons of creative integrity I had to come up with another—hopefully as snappy—title for this piece. Cunard’s president and managing director, Carol Marlow, said at a press conference to mark the occasion that her company had trademarked and/or registered its title, so I will not fall foul of them here. (For an article on these and other ships in New York waters, see the February 2008 issue of Car & Travel or click here.)

The QE2 was closed to nosy reporters, but we were shown around the 990-cabin, 90,000-ton, 12-deck Queen Victoria. Everything is grand, as would be expected on a premier cruise ship and on a line that might remain the only one to offer distinct classes of accommodation and meal options. There are areas in which some guests might not venture. The lobby has two stories, with comfortable chairs at one end, brass railings, marble pillars and heavy iron chandeliers that look as though there were plucked out of Phileas Fogg’s Victorian gentleman’s club. A little farther along is a small collection of drawings by Queen Victoria herself and her husband, Prince Albert. Would it also be treasonous to suggest that Albert was a better artist?

The ship-as-gallery idea continues in a museum of Cunardia (Cunard uses this term, so it is not a case of my playing foolishly with our language). The ship’s staff is very proud of this, and rightly so. There are some fascinating photos, documents and memorabilia. Savor it before setting your sights on the ship’s equally fine wine cellar. Most intriguing is its “zig-zag clock,” which comes from the original Queen Mary (which now is permanently docked in Long Beach, Calif.). From what I gathered, this clock was kept on the bridge, and its mechanism informed its captain when to change direction, or perhaps when to start zig-zagging. Our tour guide knew that this clock was a very important piece of nautical history but dismissed the whole thing, saying “you will need someone far more intelligent than me to explain it all.” I later understood that this was all necessary in order to thwart the evil World War II plans of Adolf Hitler, who had put a price on sinking a ship that was an iconic emblem of the British Empire.

Deeper (or perhaps higher; I never did properly orient myself) in the ship there are a ballroom for dancing and a theater. Not a small affair, but a deeply tiered area called the Royal Court Theatre that is worthy of Broadway. It even had private boxes, and on the large stage, actors were preparing roles. Culture continues in a two-story library complete with a spiral staircase. A quick glance at the titles on loan did not uncover a copy of Moby Dick or Thor Heyerdahls’ Kon Tiki, but I would be surprised if they and other suitably nautical titles are not on the shelves somewhere.

Deck and restaurant space abound. The only restaurant where passengers have to pay extra is an eponymously named restaurant of celebrity chef Todd English. I met the man. He told me that he would be on board a few times a year and that when he had met the real Queen Elizabeth II, she has remarked that she liked his last name. And no British ship would be complete without a pub, which, here on this ship, is called the Golden Lion.

From the highest deck, it was possible to peer out over the QE2, which in November will sail its last cruise on its way to the emirate of Dubai in the United Arab Emirates. There she will become a floating hotel, sold to an Arab consortium for $100 million.

So, in all this excitement, where was the Queen Mary 2? Well, she was in Brooklyn, which might explain why Brooklyn borough president, Marty Markowitz, was walking alongside me on the gangplank. (I told him I live in his borough, so he gave me a Brooklyn pin). All of us then went down to the Ritz-Carlton, Battery Park, hotel for a reception to mark this Royal Rendezvous.

A light rain did not stop the festivities as night came from the east and the Queen Mary 2 came from the southeast. Leaning over a balcony, we saw it getting larger and larger. It is more than half the size again as the Queen Victoria and has 1,778 cabins. What really amazed me was the ship’s incredibly small (relatively speaking, for a 151,400-ton piece of metal) turning circle. Coming around New York Harbor and the tip of Manhattan, it pointed itself towards Battery Park (for the express benefit of the rows of press photographers, which was very nice of it) before pirouetting (it seemed watching it that this was the only term for the action) and aiming for the wider ocean. A crowd was gathered at the edge of the park.

For a few minutes, Queen Mary 2 kept her position in the Hudson River. Our attention then went to the right, upstream, to where Queen Victoria and then the QE2 were coming along to meet their middle sister. As they all came together, a firework display lit up the scene. Cameras clicked. Then, led by Queen Mary 2, the three ships moved in the direction of the Atlantic Ocean to go their different directions, the three of them never to seen each other again. Ever.