Pomp, ceremony and a whole lot of standing around when the Queen came to town

During her 70 years on the throne, Queen Elizabeth visited Canada 22 times, touching down on all the provinces and territories. And while the royal tours all have similarities in tone and substance, each has particular defining moments. They are the Crown made visible, flesh and blood tribunes of Canada's constitutional monarchy.

The 13-day North American royal tour in 1976 was historic. It was the year of the Olympics in Montreal. The Queen's daughter, Princess Anne, was competing in the equestrian events in Bromont, Que., as a member of the British team, the first member of the Royal Family to take part in an Olympics. The entire family turned out: the Duke of Edinburgh, Princes Charles, Andrew and Edward and Princess Anne's husband, Mark Phillips.

The Queen began her North American visit with a short tour of the United States, then celebrating the 200th anniversary of its founding. While some Canadians may be comfortably restrained in the easy familiarity of a royal visit, the Americans were positively giddy. Huge cheering crowds turned out in full throat in Washington, Philadelphia, New York and Boston.

Americans have an especially unique view of the monarchy. They were celebrating the 200th anniversary of breaking away from the British monarchy and at the same time cheering the current occupant of the throne that the founding fathers worked diligently to expunge from their young country.

Before coming to Canada, the royals inspected the tall ships in New York and Boston, and then sailed to Canada aboard the royal yacht Britannia.

Britannia, no longer in service, is a fabled vessel. Commissioned in 1954, the ship called in at more than 600 ports in 135 countries in 44 years of service to Queen Elizabeth and her family.

Britannia is a story in itself. For example, there were no unnecessary oral orders given by the officers; hand signals sufficed. And there was no systematized discipline; a single infraction of the rules and the offender was off the ship. Being a seaman on Britannia was a coveted job in the Royal Navy. 

For the press, a highlight of any tour involving Britannia was the onboard reception to meet and greet the Royals. In 1976, that was in Halifax.

As members of the national and local press gathered on the afterdeck, uniformed servers prepared trays of drinks. At a given signal, they managed to herd the mob of journalists into more manageable groups of seven or eight. 

We are la crème de la scum.- James Whitaker

Suddenly the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh moved into the crowd. Protocol was important. We were told not to speak to the Queen unless we were spoken to. First reference is "Your Majesty" with a slight bow of the head. Second reference is "Ma'am." Her Majesty was not to be quoted but the reporters were encouraged to talk to her.

Queen Elizabeth has a lilting speaking voice and a direct focus on her listener. That sunny afternoon in Halifax, she seemed in good spirits as she moved from one group to the next. Every royal tour brings with it those Fleet Street reporters who cover royalty full time. The most famous was James Whitaker. It was Whitaker who described the Fleet Street coterie: "We are la crème de la scum."

After Halifax, the family moved on to Montreal. Any visit to Quebec by Queen Elizabeth can be fraught with controversy. Her 1964 visit to Quebec City sparked riots  by anti-royal and separatist demonstrators. But in 1976, with Quebec basking in the world's attention because of the Montreal Olympics, her visit was warmly welcomed.

Any royal tour is shot through with long periods of tedium. Yet another hospital dedication or a church service. While reporters may find the whole thing boring, the Queen herself seems to have bottomless wellsprings of patience. At one point in Nova Scotia, she met a group of smiling grannies, the Independent Order of the Daughters of the Empire, or IODE. "And how are the daughters today?" asked the smiling monarch.

As well, there are the proforma speeches, each of which has been written or approved by the government in Ottawa. Somehow, she managed to trudge through dollops of the most airless prose imaginable. And she did it with the legendary Elizabethean good humour on full display. Audiences leave feeling they have experienced a once in a lifetime event.

With the royals in Canada, Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau thought it a good time for a federal-provincial get-together, with all the premiers on hand for a major royal speech. The royal yacht had sailed from Nova Scotia to Ontario and was anchored off Kingston. There would be an evening dinner aboard Britannia, followed by  the Queen's speech.

I was assigned to be a pool reporter, which meant I had to share my story with other reporters on the tour. It also meant I had to hurriedly rent a tuxedo. To go with my brown shoes.

The dinner and speech ended around 10 p.m. I was on the afterdeck smoking a cigarette and talking to the Queen's legendary secretary, Martin Charteris. I asked him what he thought of Her Majesty's speech. He paused, took a drag on his cigarette and said: "The greatest plate of horseshit Her Majesty has ever had to read."

Not the most felicitous description of a royal tour perhaps, but an earthy response to the fabricated pomp and ceremony.