Preceding our European tour in the summer of 2009, with the lyrics of Huey “Piano” Smith’s “Sea Cruise” floating through our minds, the James Taylor crew boarded Cunard’s Queen Mary 2 for a transatlantic crossing. As romantic as this ocean voyage adventure seemed before we cast off in New York harbor, reality presented a rather different version of the story for those of us on the crew. For the majority of the time spent on this legendary luxury ocean liner, we were confined in a cramped salon on the lowest deck of the ship, setting up and working rehearsals with the band. Aside from the two shows James and the band performed on the final days of the voyage, the most memorable highlight of the cruise turned out to be a lengthy tour of the engine room given to us by the chief of engineering.
The first three days at sea were also etched into our shared memories for markedly different reasons. Upon our arrival, the crew attended the mandatory safety muster, during which we instructed on using our life jackets and informed where to assemble for evacuation in lifeboats if we should hear seven short blasts and one long blast from the ship’s horn. Following that cheerful gathering, we proceeded to the cargo hold and began loading audio and band gear into the Kensington room on the lowest level of the ship. As we worked in the bowels of the vessel, the rest of the passengers were enjoying the ritual champagne celebration that saluted the passing of the ship under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge and its progression into the open Atlantic Ocean.
Tossing and Turning
The longer we headed northeastward on that first night, the rougher the sea became. The Queen Mary 2 had sailed directly into a fierce North Atlantic storm. The rehearsal room was located at the stern of the ship, which was rockin’ and rollin’ quite a bit. However, the cabins allotted to the crew were in the bow, where the upward and downward motion of the hull was far more pronounced. By the time we had finished load-in and completed line check, it was apparent that we were in for a rough go. The angry and relentless sea was now tossing around the huge vessel rather handily.
We ate a late dinner at the buffet. On finishing our meal, we noticed that all the doors leading outside to the decks were all chained shut. That ominous condition would remain unchanged for the next three days as the ship labored its way through gale force winds, heavy rain, winter-like temperatures and 30- to 35-foot swells. The ship was traveling at 33 knots, and combined with the 40+ mph headwinds, there were hurricane force wind conditions outside. The leisurely strolls around the decks would have to wait.
When we retired to our cabins for the evening, it was immediately apparent that the bow of the ship would be a difficult location for riding out the storm. This QM2 reared out of the water when traveling over the peaks of the swells and then crashed back down violently into the depressions. Happily, I have never suffered from motion sickness, but just the simple act of walking was becoming a challenge. Sleeping required a little chemical help from a prescription bottle if one hoped to get through a night of uninterrupted rest. The up and down movement of the ship was so violent that I ended up suffering a bothersome injury on the second night out.
Despite the medication, the slamming of the hull against the water had awakened me in the middle of the night. Now that I was semi-alert, I carefully crawled out of bed with the intention of visiting the bathroom. I had taken only two steps forward when the bow first dropped sharply and then rose back up just as abruptly. The intense kinetic energy released by this cycle of motion caused the deck beneath my feet to become a springboard, and I was summarily launched into the air — sailing over the corner of the bed in an awkward, unintentional three quarter somersault. My six-foot, four-inch, 210-pound frame landed squarely on my back, and the force of the impact jolted my entire body. The resulting bruise to my back and accompanying muscle strains bothered me for the subsequent two weeks.
The violent motion of the sea had taken its toll on the band as well. Two members of our entourage experienced serious bouts of seasickness that prevented them from fully participating in the first two rehearsal days. But when the sky cleared and the sea calmed, we were all determined to get the most out of the remaining portion our journey and rehearsals intensified. Because this period was our only time to prepare for the upcoming 2009 European tour, there was still much to be accomplished in the three rehearsal days we had left in the Kensington Room.
Smooth Sailing Ahead
So far, this year’s experience on the water could hardly be more contrasting in its nature. We are sailing through calm seas, and the crew is operating on a far more relaxed schedule. The James Taylor tour has been on the road since May and is powering ahead smoothly, with many shows already under our belts. For this leg we will be performing without percussionist Luis Conte and our two horn players, Lou Marini and Walt Fowler. A few songs will need to be re-addressed and a few songs may be replaced, but the schedule still only calls for one rehearsal day and two show days here on the Queen Mary 2.
This is a confident and immensely talented group that comprises the band and the crew. Although this is my tenth year mixing FOH for James, I am still one of the newer members of the regular cast. Once we are all in the touring groove, adding new songs to the set list or rearranging existing tunes is accomplished with relative ease. Yesterday was a dedicated load-in day on the ship, and we will be well prepared for James and the band when they come in to work tomorrow morning for the only scheduled rehearsal day. On the following day, we will load our gear out of the Kensington into the Royal Court Theatre where two shows will be performed here on the QM2. Today, however, is a day off from work and a day off the ship in Halifax, Nova Scotia.
While on the ship, and for all the upcoming European dates, Rachel Adkins (monitor engineer) and I will be working on consoles, microphones, wireless systems and speaker/IEM systems identical to those which we have been using all this year. This continuity of equipment was made possible by Clair Global’s logistical agility that was ably demonstrated by the meticulous coordination our transition across the Atlantic. Systems engineer Andy Sottile flew to England after our last U.S. tour stop and quarterbacked the assembly of our gear at Clair UK (Concert Sound). The audio equipment was then trucked from Luton to Southampton, where it was loaded onto the Queen Mary 2 and sent on its way westward. Our familiar gear was waiting for us in our rehearsal room when we boarded the great ship in New York.
It will be a pleasure to mix the two shows in the Royal Court Theatre on my own DiGiCo SD5 rather than starting from scratch on the installed Yamaha PM1D. There has been a complete personnel turnover in the Cunard audio department, and no one on their current crew has stored show files from our 2009 performances. The only foreseeable downside is that I may need to be rather flexible about mix position location in the 1,100-seat venue, because all seats have been sold. There is no room for me in the theatre’s dedicated mix location, and I will need to find the best available spot that impedes the view of the fewest number of patrons.
The P.A. system is configured in mono-only arrays within a semi-circular structure above the stage and is totally hidden from view in the semi-circular theatre. I’ll be sending feeds for mono mains, subs and front fills from the SD5. These shows won’t exactly simulate real-life show conditions but will give us all an opportunity to take the newly provided gear on a short shakedown cruise while we journey across the Atlantic. Our first show in Plymouth, England is on the day after we land Southampton, and we will be seriously ready for dry land.
Safe travels!
