The Monterey never called at the industrial port of Alang, India, during its proud 50 years of luxury passenger ship service, which included California-Hawai'i crossings from 1956 to 1978.

But last November, the much-loved and last-surviving former Matson Line "white ship" was taken to this remote coastal town on the Gulf of Khambat and beached alongside other hulks. It is where old ships go to die, the largest operation of its kind in the world.

Now drained of fuel, all valuable fittings removed, the next stage for the "Monte," as it is now known, is being broken up so its valuable steel and other metals can be recycled — an undistinguished ending for a ship once regarded as a "Queen of the Pacific."

AN AMERICAN CLASSIC

This is the end of a remarkable chapter in America's once-proud ship-building industry, and the last reminder of a vibrant and glamorous era of luxury trans-oceanic travel, now replaced by airlines and cruises.

The Monterey was, along with sister ship the Mariposa, like family to the thousands of mostly American passengers. The ship kept afloat the tradition of the "Grand Manner of Matson" that four older vessels had started back in 1927 on their weekly sailings to Hawai'i — voyages that opened up the Islands and the South Seas to mainstream tourism from the United States.

In their prime, the Monterey and Mariposa embarked every six weeks on roundtrip voyages from San Francisco to Sydney, via Los Angeles, Honolulu, Pape'ete, Auckland, Suva and Pago Pago. Relatively small at 536 feet, and with a capacity of just 365 passengers (all in first class), these liners provided a travel experience that was everything the brochures promised and more, combining high American standards of service with a casual Polynesian style that complemented the tropical ports of call. The Monterey cruised at a swift 20 knots, a speed needed to make her schedule between remote and distant islands.

For maritime historian and journalist Peter Knego of Moorpark, Calif., the retirement of the Monterey is especially poignant. "Her end closes a brilliant chapter in Matson Line history," Knego said.

Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area when the Monterey and Mariposa were in their prime, Knego remembers watching them sail to and from the historic Matson pier on the Embarcadero in San Francisco. This, like Pier 10 beneath the Aloha Tower in Honolulu, was the site of countless stirring white-ship alohas — the whistle blasting, the orchestra playing, streamers flying between the ship and the gallery along the pier.

Fulfilling a childhood dream just a few months ago, Knego unknowingly booked passage aboard the Monterey's last passenger-carrying cruise — on the Mediterranean, where she operated in relative obscurity for an Italian cruise line. He was pleased to see that while refurbished and modernized, the ship still featured many of its original Polynesian-style fittings.

In fact, it was an aging boiler that finally did the Monterey in — the ship was otherwise in good condition.

Knego hopes to recover some of the salvageable items from the ship to add to his collection of liner memorabilia and furnishings, some of which he sells via his Web site, midshipcentury.com. And while sorry to see the ship go, he points out that unlike so many vintage liners, the Monterey's end came without the suffering and decay that usually precedes a ship's end.

"She ended her career on a high note," he says.

A TWILIGHT ERA

The Monterey's heyday was the twilight of Matson's passenger-ship era, which had its origins in the region in the 1880s. Originally intended as an offshoot of the firm's sugar and freight-carrying business, passengers became profitable for Matson as Hawai'i's population and economy expanded. Matson launched its first great liner, the Malolo (later known as the Matsonia) in 1927, to coincide with the opening of The Royal Hawaiian hotel, which Matson also owned.

Three similar "white ships" followed in the early 1930s: the first Mariposa and Monterey, and the Lurline. The white ships' momentum continued until World War II, when all four liners became troop transports, carrying tens of thousands, their lanai suites and posh ballrooms completely gutted.

After the war, the ships needed overhauls. But high costs forced Matson to sell two of them, keeping the other to resume the lucrative California-Hawai'i trade. The South Pacific had no regular American ship service for a decade, until Matson commissioned the new Monterey and Mariposa in the early 1950s. Two small 1953 freighters were converted to create the twins, the Free State Mariner becoming the Monterey.

Everything about the new ships was first-class. Some of America's finest artists and designers were hired to create a Polynesian motif for their interiors — everything from the artwork in the staterooms and on menus to the main public rooms, the Southern Cross Lounge and the Polynesian Club.

The spiffy new ships featured the latest technology (air conditioning!), and were proud to be the first ships on any ocean to offer an all-female wait staff in the dining room. President Dwight D. Eisenhower even sent a telegram of congratulations, which was read at the Monterey's christening.

Over the years, Hawai'i was the primary beneficiary of the white ships' service. Not only did their regular visits provide substantial tourist revenue to the Islands, they also provided a direct, reliable link to the Mainland for Island residents.

Before the advent of jet airliners in the late 1950s, Matson liners were the luxurious way to go. Dazzling color ads appeared in national magazines. Hollywood stars were regular customers. The Honolulu media of the day covered white-ship arrivals and departures, even printing full passenger lists in the early years.

GOODBYE TO AN OLD FRIEND

The first arrival of the Monterey in Honolulu in 1956 was no exception. Bill Sewell was aboard ship that morning as senior assistant purser, and fondly remembered the welcome passengers and crew received after the five-day crossing from San Francisco, their first of many "Boat Day" arrivals at Aloha Tower.

"All the Honolulu newspapers and radio stations turned out for the occasion. It was front-page news," he recalled in an interview shortly before his death at the age of 80 in California. "There were coin divers near the pier begging for coins ... fire boats shooting water high in the sky, and flower girls came aboard with leis for everyone. It was a very exciting time."

Sewell retired from Matson in the 1960s, having worked on all of Matson's white ships. Like many of his colleagues (and former passengers), Sewell had a deep loyalty to the ships. Many crew members stayed aboard the ships for their entire careers at sea, forging lifelong friendships with each other and with passengers. There were always plenty of repeat customers aboard each voyage, the old friendships adding to the perfect weather, fantastic food and happy times that accompanied each voyage.

The Monterey and Mariposa remained popular through the 1960s (the Lurline and Matsonia were also still in operation), but the tide was beginning to turn. Fuel and labor costs, union rules, competition from new cruise lines and increasing trans-Pacific air service were among many new challenges. Matson also knew that the ships' 25-year U.S. government subsidy would be ending in 1978 (a federal law), and the company decided to exit the passenger ship business for good in 1970.

The Monterey and Mariposa were sold to Pacific Far East Line in 1971. For seven years, they continued sailing on their old South Pacific routes with mostly the same crews and many of the same, loyal passengers. New cruises to Alaska, Europe and Asia were added, and the ships operated the first regular interisland Hawaiian cruises in the mid 1970s. The Monterey even appeared in an episode of the "Hawaii Five-O" television series. The ships were as popular as ever.

But Pacific Far East Line faced the same challenges as Matson, and when Congress decided not to extend the ships' subsidy, their service as U.S. flag liners effectively came to an end, as did the U.S. passenger-ship industry. The Monterey and Mariposa left Ho-nolulu for San Francisco for the last time in 1978. The white-ship era was over.