The USS Torsk is a diesel-electric submarine that saw service in World War II (receiving two battle stars) and was the American naval vessel to sink the last enemy ship – a Japanese coastal defence frigate – in the conflict.

Photos of the USS Constellation were from a mix of my backup camera and my phone as 2012 was the year I went to America and left my main camera bag at home. Still makes me shudder to think of that memory.

Photos from the Taney’s exterior and on its deck taken on my phone:

Photos from inside the Taney:

Falkland Islands Museum

We briefly popped into a souvenir place with the aim of getting something memorable from our trip to the Falklands but it seemed so did nearly everyone else from the Star Princess so we quickly left and headed to the nearby Falkland Islands Museum instead where we could see people milling about.

There were a smattering of military and maritime exhibits outside the museum with some lovely views across the harbour but it was inside that we wanted to visit. We entered and saw what looked like a ticket desk only for the woman behind to smile and gesture for us to step through and look around without paying. We thought that was odd but did so and came to wonder as we wandered around whether she had mistaken us as part of a tour group who were also exploring since we were still wearing our excursion stickers from the completed battlefields tour. We shrugged and agreed that the museum would do alright out of us anyway as we’d seen they had a shop and we had every intention of spending cash there as we’d been too impatient to wait in the souvenir shop. For the record we followed through on our intention, bought loads of little things, and even got some Falkland Islands change for our holiday money collection.

The museum was excellent and arguably one of the best we’ve visited, covering every aspect of Falkland Islands life from the people across different periods to the wildlife and geology and history, including the war, naturally. Highly recommended.

We carried on along Ross Road which runs along the harbour front in Stanley passing many buildings built in the style typical for the islands: white with coloured roofs, usually red or green. We also passed the mizzen mast of the SS Great Britain which had been damaged in a gale around Cape Horn in 1886.

Christ Church Cathedral

The next place we came upon was Christ Church Cathedral, famous in many pictures of the Falkland Islands because of the whalebone arch that decorates its entrance. The bones are from the jaws of two blue whales and the monument was put up in 1933 for the centenary of British rule and if you find yourself visiting Stanley on the Falkland Islands then there’s a very strong possibility that you’ll end up taking photos like this too. You won’t be able to help yourself.

Globe Tavern

This concluded our exploration of the interesting parts of Stanley on the Falkland Islands but did not conclude our time. We wanted to say we’d had a drink in a bar on the Falklands and just around the corner from the cathedral we spotted a gathering of like-minded people at the Globe Tavern. We initially thought everyone there would be from our cruise ship as it was the only one out in Blanco Bay and we could see nothing else in the harbour but this turned out not to be true.

Our tour guide had told us that many Argentinian people visited the islands (something we found surprising) and this was the case with a sizeable number of patrons in the bar clearly from the closest mainland. Indeed, the staff and possibly owner too were also all Argentinian. Despite this and despite the very pro-British sentiment displayed prominently there seemed no issues with anyone. Smiles and close proximity to a family of Argentinian tourists led to me being asked to take their photos and I happily obliged. Our tour of the battlefields and its reminder of reasonably recent warfare between our two nations contrasted nicely with the pleasant, joint effort of ordinary people to make a living and run businesses.

Refreshed, we walked the short distance down to the jetty to catch the tender boat back to the cruise ship.

The walk to the museum was an easy one but the high winds and changeable weather that would sweep over us throughout our trip on Azura to the Netherlands meant that we couldn’t escape a brief downpour before arriving at the impressive maritime building. Built in 1656 the museum building consists of four blocks named after the cardinal points of compasss, forming a square; the courtyard area inside is bright, clean, and covered (handy for drying off while waiting to get our free tickets courtesy of our city card) and contains tickets booths, souvenir shops, cloakrooms, etc.

We only really hit three places in the museum in order to maximise what else we would see in Amsterdam, although we could have stayed for a lot longer and seen a lot more. The first of these was a reconstructed, 18th-century, cargo ship.

In the hold of the ship are plenty of crates and ropes. As the ship is only a reconstruction far from restricting touching anything people – children in particular – are encouraged to climb around if they so wish. We thought this was a nice touch. Many of the areas below deck seemed to have surprisingly high ceilings. Our experience on other, actual sailing vessels had prepared us for far more crouching. A section towards the rear of the ship with officers’ quarters was more what we’d anticipated. On the top deck it was possible to get some decent views of the city of Amsterdam and looking northwards in the direction from which we’d come we could also see the top of our cruise ship, Azura over the tops of other buildings.

Across a jetty from the reconstructed ship was The Royal Barge.

The Royal Barge was designed by C.J. Glavimans. The ship was built between 1816 and 1818 at the Navy shipyard in Rotterdam […] It was last used in 1962 for the silver wedding anniversary of Queen Juliana and Prince Bernhard.

The final area in the maritime museum that we ended up seeing (and surprisingly enjoying) was a showcase of cargo transportation around the world and a room that you entered (there was only my wife and me there), waited for the doors to close, then experienced what it would be like to be a case of wine with a virtual ride by crane, forklift, air transport, shipping, and carrying through the wonders of four large screens set in each wall. No photos, sadly, but quite a lot of fun for a few minutes.

The museum itself was built in 1988 following the drying and treating of the raised vessel over the previous twenty seven years.

Inside the museum the impressive ship can be seen in all its glory on four levels of walkways around the vessel. What is incredible is just how intact the Vasa is. With the exception of the masts the main decomposition that took place on the ship underwater was the rusting away of smaller metal pieces such as bolts for the timbers. The timber itself didn’t suffer anywhere near as much damage as the water in which the ship sank could not support the microscopic life that would otherwise have thrived on it.

The highly-decorated aft of the vessel and bowsprit were particularly nice to see and brought to mind any of the main ships in the Pirates of the Caribbean series of movies.

On each of the levels away from the Vasa were recovered items from the ship along with information about it. The ship had been over-designed on the wishes of the king, Gustavus Adolphus. Intended to be the flagship of a squadron of ship based in the Swedish Archipelago the ship was fitted with 64 guns but was dangerously top heavy. With nobody apparently willing to tell the king that the design was not a smart one the ship set sail before a watching crowd only to catch a light breeze and tip over enough to allow water to flood in through its lower gun ports beyond the ship’s capacity to compensate.

Taking photographs in the Vasa Museum is not the easiest thing in the world. There’s nothing stopping you from taking photos of the ship – as you can tell – but there’s a challenge because of the lighting. I’m never particularly happy taking photos at high ISO because of the noise this generates but there’s no other option in this case. High ISO and wide open lens allowed me to get shots at a high enough speed to not be too blurred from hand held pictures but some of the images are as slow as 1/6th of a second which is worryingly long; that’s even with deliberate underexposing to try to get a little more speed in the shutter. That long exposure coupled with the high ISO and the lighting in the museum then gave everything a very warm feel so in post processing I’ve sharpened a bit and kept noise reduction low because I prefer the noise and sharpness to something too soft. To counter the colour I reduced the temperature by a couple of hundred kelvins universally and dropped overall saturation by about 10%. On top of that I also pulled the orange down by anywhere from 5-20% more depending on how far away from natural daylight the picture was taken. Yellows were reduced by about 5% when lights were present in the pictures and highlights were reduced on a picture-by-picture basis.

Regardless of the difficulties with getting decent photos the Vasa Museum was still a great place to visit. If you like history or Disney movies about pirates then it’s a fabulous thing to see on a day in Stockholm. For more information about the museum as well as its opening times and ticket prices take a look at the official website: Vasa Museum.

HMS Belfast was the penultimate Town-class light cruiser built for the British navy and one of two Edinburgh-class subclass vessels. Launched in March 1938 she saw action in World War II (after a few years of extensive repairs following damage from a mine late in 1939) in numerous Arctic battles and convoys and played a role in the D-Day landings at Normandy. In the early 1950s HMS Belfast was attached to the US Navy briefly to assist in the Korean War but was then detached in order to perform naval operations in an independent manner. In the 1960s the ship was decommissioned and put into reserve, and for some time was moored not far from us in Portsmouth at Fareham creek awaiting the order to be scrapped. It was at this time that the Imperial War Museum floated the possibility of preserving the ship in its entirety and she was eventually handed over to a trust, towed to London, fitted out as a museum, and opened to the public in 1971.

As you first board HMS Belfast your tickets are checked and you’re handed a map of the ship and given the opportunity to take a free audioguide around with you. With our limited time aboard owing to our upcoming sporting engagement we knew we wouldn’t really be able to fully appreciate the extended information at each of the audio points on the ship so just made do with the map. As you can see there are nine levels to the ship and in our time aboard we managed to get from the highest point to the lowest clambering up and down the ladders.

It should be noted that when you’re on HMS Belfast the ladders that take you up and down the decks are very steep and often narrow (warships don’t really have the luxury to accommodate the space for easier steps as you can probably appreciate). Almost all the routes up and down are one-way to prevent people trying to come up when others are coming down and you can see this on the yellow arrows on the map. Because of the steepness of the steps you descend much as you ascend with your back away from the rungs. You can expect to bang your shins or knees or head at some point because we did and we overheard two other people exclaim loudly variations of “Agh! Not again!” It’s all part of the experience.

The boiler and engine rooms on the lower levels are particularly interesting to explore. While they’re jam-packed with pipes, gauges, levers, railings, more pipes, dials, buttons, wheels, and even more pipes it never really felt claustrophobic there (at least, not for us, but it’s worth considering if it’s something that bothers you). Probably the most unnerving point of visiting this area of the museum ship was coming across the sign that indicated we were 4.5 metres below the waterline. The other signs that generated a smidge of concern were the frequent warnings about asbestos. From an aesthetic point of view the almost steampunk impression due to the volume of brass pipes and analogue dials was beautiful to see.

On the main deck are the gun turrets and it’s here you’ll find most people trying to take selfies. Additionally, you’ll get some lovely views across the River Thames to various London landmarks such as Tower Bridge and the Tower of London. Climbing up the remainder of the levels allows you to visit the Admiral’s Bridge, Gun Direction Platform, Operations Room, Compass Platform, and Admiral’s and Captain’s Sea Cabins.

We knew that our visit to HMS Belfast would be fleeting but assumed we’d see enough in the hour to satisfy us. I’m not sure that it did. I’d have liked to have spent at least double the amount of time we were there in order to fully listen to an audioguide on the way around and to take a little more time examining some of the machinery and taking more photographs. If you or any member of your family has an interest in wartime history or ships or just want to see a museum that’s slightly different from the norm then HMS Belfast is a fabulous way to spend anywhere up to half a day. There’s even a café onboard which would help to break up or reward any trip around the ship. As fans of modern cruising we particularly liked comparing small elements of the naval ship with modern liners such as the “promenade deck” area, the cabins, and the galley. HMS Belfast is well worth a visit.

As you approach the main building have any bags on you open for inspection. You’re in a foreign country and the people there will speak their own language before they usually switch to the one you’re familiar with (if they can) and a blank look as you try to replay what you heard in your head hunting down key words you might remember from GCSE French at school will only lead to a repetition of the phrase and gesturing before your wife slaps your arm and says “Let him see inside the camera bag dumbass!”

Inside the main building you’ll discover a lot of exhibits on show without you needing a ticket. These will be submersible craft for the main part that have played key roles in exploration of the undersea kingdom. While these might provide some distraction they weren’t what we were there for. In this area there are also toilets and a café.

Paying for your ticket lets you exit the main building into the enclosed external area where a number of other pieces of maritime history are located and where you can gain access to the Titanic exhibition, the aquarium, and the nuclear submarine. Of these three things it was only the latter two we were interested in during this trip; we’re always fond of aquariums and if we can set foot on a historic vessel then we always will too.

Le Redoutable Nuclear Submarine

The main thing we wanted to see at Cité de la Mer was the submarine museum Le Redoutable. It is the largest and only nearly-complete ballistic missile submarine open to the public and we are always keen to do the firsts, lasts, largests, longests, etc. whenever we travel to places around the world.

An audio guide available in several languages can be picked up as you scan your ticket in at the entrance to the submarine and it provides one of the most informative descriptions of the places you explore as you make your way through the impressive vessel. One thing to note, though, if you’re the sort of person who likes to ignore the audio guide and wander around on your own is that the passageways through Le Redoutable are narrow, often only permitting one person to pass and this, coupled with the guide often telling you to stop and look at certain things, means that you won’t really be able to progress any faster than those with the guides ahead of you on the boat (not ship). You may as well use the guide and you won’t be sorry that you did.

Commissioned in 1971 and decommissioned twenty years later, Le Redoutable was the first of the Redoutable-class submarines constructed for the French Navy. She was fitted with 16 ballistic missile launchers and being in the section where each of the missiles could be independently launched was very impressive. Each missile tube had its own controls, its own computers, and seemingly anachronistic brass tubes to ensure communication could be maintained even in the event of failures there. The audio guide went into some detail about what and how long it took to launch a nuclear missile (something no submarine has ever done), making a mockery of most of the movies or books that might have implied some rogue person might be able to do it on a whim. Did you know that a compressed air bubble is in the tube with the missile so that during launch it expands and keeps the missile completely dry until it ignites its rocket upon leaving the water?

Le Redoutable was a very functional boat for the most part with little room given over to the niceties of life under the water for months on end. The submarine produced its own fresh water and oxygen, could manufacture and replace any part, needed to be able to cope with compression and expansion of the hull of several centimetres when attaching fittings, and had plenty of protection against heat, noise, and, of course, radiation. The reactor section of the submarine had been removed (obviously) but had it been still there and operating it could have powered the entire city of Cherbourg. A walkway allowed you to wander through where the reactor had once been.

My favourite part of Le Redoutable was the very, very 1970s decor of the meeting room area. Looking like something straight from UFO this really appealed to my love of that period’s style.

The audio guide tour of Le Redoutable takes about 35 minutes so you can add on another five or ten to that to cover stepping through doorways, taking photos, etc. Dropping off our guides and stepping away from the submarine we were afforded views of our cruise ship, Arcadia, showing just how close to the attraction ships dock before we made our way to the next point of interest in Cité de la Mer. I can see our balcony in a couple of these photos.

Aquarium

As I’ve already mentioned we are keen on aquariums and you can almost guarantee that if there’s one in a city we’re visiting then there’s a good chance we’ll end up paying to take a look around it. Like everything else in Cité de la Mer the aquarium was on a grand scale, obviously designed to cope with a huge number of visitors at a time. Because of the time that we visited it, perhaps, the place was mostly empty and this suited us perfectly. The aquarium building is set over two levels with a number of marine artifacts and pieces of accompanying information along with some interactive components but it was really the sealife that we’d come to see. There’s something so very soothing about staring into tanks and watching the varied creatures swimming or crawling around.

There weren’t a huge number of tanks but the cleanliness of the glass was superb and the variety of sealife was enough to get a good look around and enjoy what was there. One tank did extend over the two floors of the aquarium building and it was possible to get partially underneath looking up. This produced an unsettling effect in considering just how much weight of water there was poised above you, but unsettling in a good way and one of the highlights of the visit.

Prior to the aquarium in Cité de la Mer the last sealife centre we’d been to had also been in France – La Rochelle Aquarium – and that had been more of what we consider a traditional aquarium. The large tank was impressive but the small number of tanks and apparent waste of space, perhaps simply because we’d timed our visit to an exceptionally lucky quiet period, left us feeling satisfied but not blown away by the exhibit in Cherbourg.

A quick show of our cruise cards as we exited Cité de la Mer allowed us to enter the old cruise terminal and make our way back to the ship.

Conclusion

If you’re visiting Cherbourg then Cité de la Mer is easily the most interesting thing to see with the added bonus of having the most chance of it being actually open. As people who love naval history the price of admission was worth it just to explore Le Redoutable for us. Getting to see numerous other undersea vessels as well as an aquarium and the chance to explore a museum dedicated to the Titanic too should make this a no-brainer decision should you find yourself in the French city.

Although I’ve mentioned it on other posts from this trip to America I’ll repeat it again here: this was the trip that forever sends shivers down my spine. We’d needed to fly out from Heathrow early in the morning so we’d awoken at some horrible hour in the dark and grabbed the bags from the room where they’d been stored the evening before and headed off. And about halfway to the airport some tired part of my brain suddenly perked up and said:

Hey, remember how dark it was this morning? And remember how the room with the bags in has a black floor? And remember how the suitcases were bright yellow so you packed them in the car? And remember how the camera bag is black in a dark room on a black floor? Any recollection of picking that up?

The Trip Where I Forgot To Bring My Camera. Still horrifying to think about. I did have a camera as I’d put my older DSLR in a case on the slight chance that my wife might have wanted to use it. She never had before but there was always a first time. So, armed with not the camera I wanted and only the single lens it had on it plus my phone I was still able to take some shots but my photographic heart was never quite in the right place.

It was a lovely November day to visit Baltimore’s historic seaport and tourist attraction; clear skies and a clean crispness in the air. The transformation of the Inner Harbour from a dead and decaying, formerly-industrialised, shallow port abandoned by visiting vessels in the 1950s due to economic changes into a thriving spot for recreation became a model for waterfront renewal around the world. Parks and museums were erected and hotels and other attractions such as an aquarium and a science centre were built following a flood of tourism in the wake of the tall ships making a stop during the 1976 bicentennial celebrations.

Our interest was in the floating museum ships. Photos from three of the ships can be found in earlier travel portfolio posts here:

• USCGC Taney – the last floating survivor during the attack on Pearl Harbour
• USS Torsk – the American naval vessel to sink the last enemy ship in World War 2
• USS Constellation – the flagship of the Union’s anti-slave trade African Squadron in the American Civil War and the last sail-only warship built by the US Navy

We also visited the United States Lightship Chesapeake. If you’re as much a fan of sci-fi as me then you too will be disappointed to learn that the name has no bearing on its means of propulsion, instead referring to its use as a lighthouse. Launched in 1930 and used in World War 2 to protect Boston, Chesapeake, like all lightships, was mothballed in the 1960s as permanent lighthouses were built and automated buoys become more commonplace.

The only blot on the landscape of Baltimore’s otherwise attractive harbour area was the prevalence of homeless people there, some of whom we saw rifling through litter bins. This isn’t unique to Baltimore, of course – our visits to Washington D.C. were real eye-openers as to just how many homeless people there were, and every city around the world will have its share – but it is still something that simply shouldn’t be possible to happen in supposedly rich countries supposedly proud of their supposedly Christian values.

The last of the museums we visited was not a ship but was still maritime-themed, this being the Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse. Built and first lit in the 1850s then rebuilt in wrought iron in 1875, this cylindrical, screw-pile lighthouse became automated in 1949 and was deactivated in 1988. It was then moved from its location at the mouth of the Patapsco River to one of the piers in the Inner Harbour and turned into a museum. While not very large and not containing an awful lot to see other than attractive views it did have a very entertaining custodian who was immensely pleased to discover we were not only from England but also from a historic naval city and we ended up talking to him for ages.

Our trip to Baltimore wasn’t a long one but the Inner Harbour was beautiful and there was plenty to see and do there for several more trips should we find ourselves visiting again.