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| The Queen of Lake Buena Vista |
We're standing on the Southern shore of Lake Buena Vista, Florida. It's around 1983, and the atmosphere is serene. There are no nightclubs pumping techno music and no search lights illuminating the cosmos. Pleasure Island is still a place visited only by Pinocchio and Lampwick and the uncreatively named, "West Side," won't be built up for another thirteen years. All that exists beyond the western edge of the Disney Village are a few hundred pine trees and a beautiful sternwheeler riverboat named Empress Lilly.
This is the Walt Disney World of my youth. My parents would bring me here once or twice a year, but our trip was never complete without dinner aboard the Lilly. Her gleaming white gingerbread scroll-work amazed me by day and her twinkling lights astounded me by night. Her top-heavy but elegant beauty created in me a love of riverboats which survives today. It wasn't until I was twelve that I could face the reality that she wasn't a real boat. Many things have changed around Lake Buena Vista since my childhood. But I'd like to take you on a brief journey, which began in 1977.
The Empress Lilly's gangway was first lowered on May 1, 1977. Her christening was attended by Lillian Bounds Disney, Walt's widow, after whom the ship is named. Of course, riverboats are nothing new to the Disney universe. In 1955, Disneyland opened with its own gingerbread sternwheeler, the Mark Twain. The Empress Lilly was unique however, in that she didn't rely on tricks of perspective to simulate great mass. At 220 by 62 feet, she's more than double the size of her theme park siblings, the Mark Twain and the Liberty Belle. Yet, the Twain and the Belle have an advantage in that they actually move. The Lilly is as solid as granite because, despite her graceful appearance, this 'boat' has a submerged concrete foundation. Ingeniously constructed a few feet off shore, the illusion is astounding. In her earlier days, the Lilly's paddlewheel churned constantly, as if she were really plowing down the river.
Inside, the Empress Lilly was a luxurious wonder to behold, harkening back to the days of Victorian extravagance. She contained three distinct restaurants, four lounges and a Dixieland jazz bar. Why don't I give you the tour?
The Empress Lilly was the undisputed 'place to eat' back in the late '70's and early '80's at Walt Disney World. Yet, despite her popularity, this grand stern-wheeler wasn't immune change. Pleasure Island had made a world of difference around Lake Buena Vista, subtly altering the mood and desired demographics of the area. Disney saw financial advantages in subcontracting its eateries out to other companies. In early 1995, Disney announced that the Levy Organization had signed a twenty year contract to operate the Lilly. On April 22, 1995 the Empress Lilly's three famed restaurants served their last meals. When she reopened in early 1996 as Fulton's Crab House, the changes were astonishing. The most instantly recognizable changes came to the exterior of the ship. During her retrofitting, the Lilly's smokestacks and paddlewheel had been removed. Apparently, severe rust and corrosion had made the stacks a hazard, and the paddlewheel was overcome by rot. The cost of replacing these items was considered too high, and not essential to the profitability of the restaurant. One piece of promotional literature proclaims, "Fulton's Crab House is a rustic recreation of a nineteenth century paddle wheeler." That's an incongruous statement, since the structure is clearly not a house, nor does it have a paddlewheel. Without these essential themed elements, the Lilly looks like what she really is: an oddly shaped building.
The real insult came with the complete removal of the ship's original nameplates. The Empress Lilly, a ship named for Walt Disney's wife, is now simply Fulton's Crab House. There is no reference to the ship's true name, anywhere. Instead, several giant "Fulton's Crab House" neon signs were added. I suppose the signs are fitting, due to its proximity to Pleasure Island. Nevertheless, the signs take away from the charm and add to the kitsch.
The interior changes were even more significant. The restaurants, in their original forms, were gone. Three menus, it was reasoned, created an inefficient waste of kitchen space. In order to simplify operations, the same menu would be served in each dining room. Likewise, the décor would be completely redesigned. Each dining room received a new theme. The Fisherman's Deck has been converted into the "Constellation Room" in which a night sky has been painted on the ceiling and illuminated by navigational stars. The other rooms have been converted into the "Market Room" and the "Industry Room". Perhaps most disappointing was the loss of the Baton Rouge Lounge. In its place, an appetizer lounge specializing in stone crabs and oysters. The stage was replaced by a new kitchen, and the size of the room has been greatly reduced. Entertainment comes from TVs broadcasting sporting events. Likewise, the decor is dramatically different. Nautical charts decorate the walls, and the deep reds for which the Baton Rouge was named, have been replaced by shades of blue, white and gray. The most popular spot on the ship has been reduced to just another Captain Jack's.
To be completely fair, I can vouch for the quality of Fulton's food. I've had two good meals there. Likewise, the interior décor is well done, despite its having to do with the Ocean, rather than the Mississippi River. To the unbiased diner, Fulton's makes for a perfectly enjoyable evening. I've spoken to some who rave about Fulton's seafood and claim Fisherman's Deck to have been mediocre in comparison. Yet, for every one of those people, I've met two who'd gladly resurrect Steerman's Quarters. The Empress Room, it seems, has been the least missed of the original restaurants. It was far too stuffy for the average Disney World diner, though I'm sure a few Orlando gourmands regret its passing. As for me, my most treasured memento is the Baton Rouge Lounge poster hanging in my kitchen. It reminds me of what the Empress Lilly once was. Who knows? In fourteen years, when Levy's lease comes to an end, we might see a triumphant return of the Empress Lilly. Probably not.
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Photos on this page, unless otherwise noted, by Jason Snyder
MousePlanet's WDW Restaurant Resource has some information on the restaurant that the Empress Lilly has become, Fulton's Crab House. Also, Jason Snyder provided these links. In his note to me, Jason said, "The links lead to the personal pages of the members of the Riverboat Rascals. I'm sure there are a few fans who'd like to check up on their favorite Baton Rouge (Lounge) musicians." So... here they are! "Fast Eddie" Erickson & Bill Dendle | Mike Gentry | Randy Morris | Ralf Reynolds | John Charles | Denny Zavett
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