| By Jack Sauter
 	Purists  among  our   membership might   carp   that   the   Ocean   Liner Museum   concerns  itself  at  all   with cruise ships. It is a recurring  dilemma that  has  often  haunted  your   Editor who,    nevertheless,   feels   that    the means  justify  that  end.  For  younger members, cruising has established  the entire  parameters of  their  shipboard experience.  And  truth  to  tell,   twice each  year, cruise ships  respositioning from winter to summer markets or the reverse,  assume the  temporary  mantle,  if  you will, of  ocean  liners,  embarking   lucky  passengers  for  if   not quite   a  line  voyage,  at  least  a   line cruise.
 Then  again,  the  world's   newest cruise   ship,  pictured   opposite,   has evinced  a very real (corporate)  thrust to  return  to  the  look,  at  least,  of  a two-funneled ocean liner.
 Some  years  ago,  representatives from  the  Disney  organization  asked your  Editor  what  form  he  felt  their projected   cruise  ships  should   take. The   gist   of  my  response   was   that Disney  had  two choices:  Either  they could  create a maritime  extension  of Disney  world, suiting  the  proclivities of  the  bulk of  their  passengers  who would   be   extending   their   Orlando theme park visit with a cruise. 
 Or,  I  urged,  they  could  blaze  a bolder trail by recreating a  traditional vessel  from the past. In  other  words, eschew  the  towering  white   wedding cakes of too many of their  contemporary rivals by designing and  launching instead a retro-liner.
 This  they have done. By the  time you read these words, the first of their two  vessels,  Disney  Magic,  will  have arrived  from  Fincantieri,  the  Italian shipyard  that  built it, to enter  3-  and 4-day   service out of  Port  Canaveral.  However, the fitting out, handing over and  delivery  of  the  vessel  has  been plagued  by  a  series  of  embarrassing delays, embarassing both for Fincantieri and Disney alike.
 Not   surprisingly,  the  press   has had a field day, as they always seem to with every cruise ship misfortune. In a long  article,  The  Wall  Street  Journal suggested  that  wags  at  the   shipyard had   rechristened  Disney  Magic   and Disney   Wonder  "Disney   Tragic"   and "Disney   Blunder."   During   the   final hectic   months  before   delivery,   the incomplete  vessel was swarming  with Disney  engineers, intent on  not  only hastening  the work but also  ensuring that Fincantieri shipfitters adhered  to every  letter of their company's  specifications. "Scamping"--a time-honored Royal  Navy  term  for  inadequate   or shoddy   shipyard   construction--is   as old  as the first keel; it will be  with  us forever. But the Italians felt harrassed just as naturally as the Americans  felt duped. 
 Far   be  it  from  your  Editor   to apportion  blame.  Suffice  to  say  that any   new  and   unconventional   naval architectural    design    often    suffers birthing pangs. 
 | Even though  overseen by  experienced corporate and  techonological midwives recruited from the industry,  creation of twin,  85,000-ton vessels   from  scratch  by  a   company with no previous newbuilding  experience was a daunting challenge.
 Although  no-one has yet  experienced     Disney     Magic's      on-board ambience,  every ocean liner  enthusiast  is at liberty to judge how  well  the Disney   people  have  achieved   their ocean  liner  look.  The  end  result   is boldly   unconventional,  with  a   long, length   of  black  hull--the  first   since QE2  of  1969--adorned at  either  end with painted, decorative scrollwork. A series   of   glass-topped    appendages ranged  high above the water seem  to ape the ancient placement of  lifboats, even  though there is a perfectly  good collection    of   boats   further    down nearer  the water. Superstructure  just behind the twin funnels swells into  an unfortunate  camel's  hump;  however, it was to be expected  that  Disney's    1990's tween-deck logistical  requirements  far exceed those,  for  instance, that  Cunard permitted  Arthur  Davis back in 1912 aboard Aquitania. 
 But it is the emergence of Disney 
Magic's twin funnels that most betrays their  owners. Traditional ocean  liner funnels  always  served   unqestionably as the ship's summit; however long  or prestigious  the hull, one's  eye  always returned   amidships  to   the   funnels. Magic's   forward  one  is  fully   bogus, containing  an  elevated  public  room; only the after one is a working stack. 
 But   although   masquerading   as conventional   paint  pot  funnels,   the illusion   works only when  spied  from directly  abeam.  Seen  from  a   three-quarter's perspective, those bright red fixtures  lose  all credibility,  rather  as though we had inadvertantly stumbled backstage  and  seen  cutout,   second-story   facades   cobbled   together    in Hollywood for western films. A glance at any one of the aerial views of ocean liners  elsewhere  in this issue  tells  us that  paint  pot  funnels  must   survive scrutiny   from   every   direction    and elevation.  
 The  upper photograph  opposite, released  and  distributed  by  Disney's public relations department, reveals  a woefully   inadeqauate  and   distorted funnel  profile. Moreover,  the  cluster of silver exhaust stalks sprouting from the  number 2 stack indicates that  the owners have had to cope with  serious problems  of sooty fallout. One  sound reason  that  cruise ship  funnels  were shunted  aft  in  the  early  1950's   was specifically   to   reduce   soot   fouling upper    decks   dedicated   largely    to outdoor  pursuits. Indeed,  the  proliferation   of  vessels   sporting   sampan funnel   tops--America,  United   States, Michelangelo among them--reveals  an early  preoccupation  with  exactly  the same problem.
 In  sum,  high  marks  to  Disney's "imagineers"  for  trying,  even  though their finished image remains flawed.
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