The Last Word
This page heading may seem a little incongruous being placed some 4 years ahead of Caronia's official withdrawal from Cunard service. The reason for this is because all the Timeline page headers carried a standard “blurb” as seen below, until the time came to add a topic. This page will be deliberately built on the fly, there's no plan.
The fact that this page is the last to have a topic added is entirely random. That's not to say that I have, even now, decided upon what that topic might be. Perhaps it should be a summary of the 20 year journey in building the site. However, for that to have any value would mean turning it into a vote of thanks.
Thanks to all the people who have offered their ephemera for sale. Thanks to the many people who were former Caronia travellers and then adopted this site as their own. Thanks for all the wonderful, often very heartfelt, feedback I've received. Thanks for so little negative criticism. The list in many ways could become endless, then get drowned by an accidental and invidious omission.
Among the feedback has been a common theme: that I should write a book. Well, in many ways this almost encyclopædic treatise is my book. The real history of Caronia is not about the metal and rare woods, any more than it's about her luxury or the adventures that were on offer. Caronia's history was built by people, many people!
Living on board a ship for extended periods of time teaches you many things. Most centre around how to deal with other people, whether they're passengers or crew, easy-going, difficult or just downright rude. The minute the ship casts-off, you are trapped aboard with others, none of whom are there through your choosing.
Suddenly, there's upward of a thousand people, from all walks of life, thrust together and expected to get on with some semblance of harmony. This is where, years after the event, the telling of a ship's history will be meaningful, or not.
A Master-Class
While some of Caronia's crew had been hand-picked by Cunard, or even by key players on board, that certainly did not apply to me. My only “work experience” before joining Cunard had been several months folding linen in ship laundries.
Can you imagine my trepidation when I'm first asked to don white gloves that don't fit and then invited to carve very thin slices off a whole side of smoked salmon? Understand that I'd have to maintain a constant 30° angle to the slab!
I'd not even set eyes upon such a fish before, let alone knew what it might taste like. Anyway, I stood my ground and asked this Head Waiter if he'd show me how it was to be done. I can remember the quiet inward gasps from the other Commis Waiters nearby, who clearly thought I'd made a mistake.
However, what we all got was a master-class, not just in carving but in making an attractive plate more than matching any exacting diner's expectation. Thankfully, my request was taken as intended, as being from someone anxious to learn.
