A dark, misty, wet morning. An eerie quietness descended as the people were hushed in awe. The throb of the engines was to be heard no more, just the sound of the bells on the buoys creating a mystical soundtrack which perfectly matched the visuals. People talked in whispers.

The camaraderie and friendliness of the previous seven days had disappeared. As the moment many had been waiting for arrived, it was each person for themselves. After seven days at sea, the mighty Queen Mary 2 was sailing into New York Harbour.

The previous day, many of the onboard conversations centred around where to get the best viewing spot and what time that spot should be claimed. We were due to sail under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge at around 5 am, arriving at our mooring in Brooklyn’s Red Hook at around 6.30 am. We knew that that many of the prime vantage points would be taken early, so a crack-of-dawn attack was needed.  The alarm clock awoke us at around 3.45 am and we were disappointed to see rain. A lot of rain. We had neither waterproof nor umbrella so that strategy had to include something with some protection from the elements.  The best vantage point was without cover, so that was a no go.  We grabbed a coffee from Kings Court, only the second time we partook of refreshment or food from there (apart from the odd ice cream from the self-serve soft-serve as I walked past) and went off in search of our prime spot.

We settled on a place towards the front which had an over-hanging, protecting us from the worst of the weather. It was, of course, still dark, with heavy cloud cover. I have been to New York many times but arriving into the city from the water was a new experience and a splendid one. The weather did not dampen the magnificence at all – and in fact leant an extra level of atmosphere.

I did not make any friends – particularly with the woman who decided to have a loud telephone conversation – on speaker – with someone, selfie-style. If I had not asked her to be quiet I’m sure she would have continued in her selfishly loud voice for the entire hour it took to enter New York. The self-absorption of some people never ceases to amaze me. Another couple, who were keeping to the back under the awning, expected people to leave a space between them and the front. That didn’t happen either.

I experimented with different settings on my camera in my effort to capture the perfect shot but the rain and low lighting was playing havoc. I was trying to keep my camera dry, too.  I then realised that I didn’t need to view this magnificence through a lens, but that it would be better enjoyed first hand and I stopped worrying about taking pictures and just stood and watched. This proved a liberating experience. It’s amazing how we become obsessed with recording moments with machines, rather than just relishing the moment. Embedding the image in my brain rather than an SD card meant I really looked, rather than looked with the perspective of what would make a good photograph. And let’s face it, unless you’re a professional, the photographs rarely do the moment justice.