Disembarking Queen Elizabeth in Vancouver BC

 “We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away.”

Pascal Mercier

 

Final Morning on Queen Elizabeth

 
There was no Daily Program waiting for us that morning, no “Notes from the Navigator” slipped quietly under the door to frame the day ahead. Instead, with our return to Vancouver imminent, what arrived in its place was our final invoice and onboard account. Which really isn’t the same thing – one is interesting, the other is practical – though I understand why we had to get this.

It had been delivered early, sometime before we woke. We glanced through it briefly, then slipped it into our packs, knowing that the charges would settle themselves through the card we had registered at the start of the journey. There was nothing left to plan now, nothing left to do beyond undertaking our own departure.
 
Despite the late night before, we were awake early. We moved slowly at first, taking our time, assuming that we still had hours before anything required us to be on deck. As we dressed and gathered our things, I turned on the bridge camera channel out of habit more than intent.
 
The view changed everything. The Lion’s Gate Bridge was already in sight!

 
Whatever sense of a gradual morning dissolved instantly. We pulled on travel clothes - hiking clothes, really - the same ones that had carried us across so many other journeys, and pushed what remained of our clothing into our luggage.   Everything could be refolded and put away properly later.
 
Before leaving, we set out a card of thanks for our room steward along with a tip for his amazing work and care of us on this voyage.  

Then, with time suddenly feeling much shorter than it had moments before, we left our packed luggage behind, stepped out of the cabin, and made our way quickly up on deck.
 

Approach to the Port of Vancouver  

 
Stepping out onto the upper decks of Queen Elizabeth, we found that it was gently raining – true west coast weather to welcome us home.  As a result, the teak beneath our feet shone in the low deck lighting on board.  
 
As we walked along the railings to the front of the ship on approach, familiar landmarks such as Stanley Park, the Lion’s Gate Bridge and the muted skylines of the north shore and city of Vancouver began to take shape.

 
It was a city we already knew. We had arrived here by train on the Canadian, stepped off the platforms into its streets, and passed through it on foot on the Trans Canada Trail. And yet, standing on deck that morning, approaching from the water, it felt unexpectedly unfamiliar.
 
We had never quite thought of Vancouver this way – as the Port of Vancouver.

 
Ahead of us, the Lion’s Gate Bridge stretched across the inlet, lit softly against the dim sky, its structure glowing above the dark water. It is one of the defining entrances to the harbour, linking Vancouver to the North Shore beneath the Twin Lions that give the bridge its name. This time, though, it was not something we crossed or passed beneath on land. Instead, we approached it slowly, watching as it expanded across our field of view.

 
The ship eased forward through Burrard Inlet, Stanley Park appearing first as a darkened mass along the shoreline, its trees blending into the low cloud and early morning light. Then, almost without noticing the exact moment it happened, we were sliding beneath the span of the bridge itself, entering fully into Vancouver Harbour.
 
Beyond it, the lights of the city glowed.   The skyline reflected across the water, the towers and buildings rising in sharp contrast to the muted tones of the morning. The harbour was already active with ferries, fishing boats, and container ships in the waters.  

 
Amid it all, QE began her approach to Canada Place, docking on the alternative side from where we had embarked just a short 10 days beforehand.
 
Not long after, another vessel entered the harbour - a large Disney cruise ship, its hull carrying more traditional lines and colours than we might have expected. From a distance, it appeared almost understated, moving into position on the other side of the docking terminal.  
 

Disembarking Queen Elizabeth

 
As docking procedures were underway and the day began to lighten up, we noticed a number of birds in the waters nearby.  After nearly two weeks of birding our way through the Inside Passage and along the Alaskan coastline, it seemed only fitting that our final moments on board would return to the same habit of watching the waters for birds.  In the harbour waters, we noted cormorants moving along the surface, while closer to shore, small flashes of movement hinted at hummingbirds already beginning their day as well.  

Eventually, we turned back toward the practical rhythm of departure.  We returned to our cabin, collected our luggage, and took a moment to personally thank our room steward, Al, for the care he had shown throughout the voyage. His small, often unseen gestures had shaped our days more than we had fully realized during the journey.
 
With time still before our assigned disembarkation, we made our way with our luggage to the Lido for a final coffee and pastry. From the windows, we watched as the ship shifted once more into its next cycle - being unloaded of luggage and passengers while supplies began coming aboard, the quiet efficiency of turnaround already underway. Unlike longer voyages, there would be no extended pause here. Our departure time came quickly.

 
Our disembarkation time – colour coded purple - was called at 10:30 AM.
 
Within 5 minutes, we had walked off the side of the promenade deck, down the gangway and were navigating through Canada Place.   Inside, the space was already crowded with passengers from both ships. Outside, the taxi stand was busy and tightly packed, the flow of people constant and a little chaotic.

 
The contrast between voyages was immediately visible. Passengers from the Disney ship stood out compared to those on the Cunarder - families grouped together, many wearing matching Disney shirts, each person managing what seemed like multiple large rolling bags, each labelled with Disney tags.  In contrast, many of those coming off Queen Elizabeth had Alaska T-shirts on and suit bags alongside their luggage.  It was interesting to observe that each voyage carries its own style and its own way of moving through similar voyages and the same space.
 
It was not long before we were assigned a taxi and were whisked off – out of downtown Vancouver, across the Lions’ Gate Bridge, and into North Van en route to Horseshoe Bay and the ferry terminal.
 

Heading Home

 
What followed was, perhaps, our quickest return home after any journey.
 
There was no long unwinding of distance, no gradual crossing of provinces or coastlines to mark the transition. No days spent watching landscapes change from the window of Via Rail’s Ocean or Canadian, no extended passage at sea as we had known aboard Queen Mary 2 after finishing a Camino or walking across England and Scotland. Instead, it was simple and efficient: a taxi ride, a short ferry crossing, and then home.
 
Each journey ends in its own way, and each return asks something different of us. This one offered very little time to adjust.
 
By evening, we would be sitting with family, sharing stories from the voyage, showing photographs, trying to give shape to what we had just experienced. And yet, it felt as though we had not yet had the time to fully take it in ourselves. The memories were still forming and still fresh.  

 
At Horseshoe Bay, we passed through another familiar threshold. The ferry terminal, like so many places across the country, intersects with the route of our Trans Canada Trail journey. It felt like crossing a line once again when we were moving between one way of travelling and another....even if only for a moment.
 
Then, after purchasing our tickets for the ride across from Horseshoe Bay to Langdale, there was a different kind of continuation.  

 
From Queen Elizabeth to the Queen of Surrey, carrying us back toward Sechelt. There was something about that transition - one Queen to another - that felt faintly symbolic, though difficult to put into words. We had travelled this route many times before, the crossing between Horseshoe Bay and Langdale a familiar part of our lives, and yet on this day it seemed different.
 
By evening – too quickly, and perhaps too easily – we were home.
 
Sitting in the living room with family, the day already beginning to settle into conversation and routine, we could see the spouts of whales out in the water, but we were now too far away to ID them.  We also caught sight of cruise ships passing in the distance, which was not unusual for where we live.  Ships move regularly along this stretch of coast.  

 
Tonight, however, the unmistakable sight of a red funnel grabbed our attention.  Out on the water, moving steadily past…moving steadily away, was Queen Elizabeth.  
 
It was exciting…it was a little despairing.
 
She was already on her next voyage, carrying a new group of passengers, sailing back to Alaska...literally into the sunset. Our time on board had, for her, only been one more brief passage on her greater journeys at sea.

Until next time....whether by trail, rail or sail...see you out there!

 
Nautical Term of the Day - Harbour Made - is an older nautical phrase used in ship’s logs to mark the successful arrival of a vessel into safe harbour after a voyage. It carries an implicit sense of effort and relief, suggesting that the journey’s uncertainties and risks are now behind the ship. Phrase signals not just arrival, but completion.