Fort Lauderdale is our first U.S. port, and we all must go through immigration. That means off the ship, through one of the three immigration stations and then back on the ship. There were three lines delineated by the ubiquitous poles and tape. From right to left the first two lines had about 20 people each; the third had one couple waiting. I took that. In two minutes I was done. What is it about humans that they figure the short line isn’t the right one for them?
Wait a minute, not back on the ship until all guests have been processed. What’s that about?
We were directed toward two rooms filled with passengers sitting and waiting to get back on board. No one was being let back until all had gone through immigration. For me this was 40 minutes; for some it had been close to two hours, but no irritation, at least discernible, was seen.
Owen, discounting my hint that there was not much to do in Ft. Lauderdale now that spring breakers were discouraged from visiting, took a cab ($15) to the beach. He did not take his swim suit. He had a cappuccino. Then a taxi back to the ship ($15).
Our side of the ship was on the Inland Waterway, and yachts were passing one after the other. All big, one named Aspen Alternative, but the biggest was being towed by a Lilliputian tugboat. We watched as it went towards Miami.
Why was this beautiful boat being towed all that way? Suddenly I had the scenario. A woman married to a very rich man towards the north had finally had enough. She left their palatial mansion and ran to the boat. There, she hired the tugboat telling them that she had no idea how to steer a yacht.
In case hubby reads this, the yacht is named Mystique.
Some huge freighters came by; interesting to see them so close without much room between us and them.
And then the Bubble Boy’s boat.
The theme of this cruise is Hollywood to New York, with the emphasis on Hollywood. As part of the mix, Tippi Hedren is on board talking about her experience acting in the Hitchcock thriller “The Birds.” She also has a few interesting things to say about her relationship with the famed director. Before dinner, there was a Tippi gathering where guests could have their pictures taken with her.
The band played and guests danced with the Dance Hosts.
Owen and I watched and both agreed that one of the Hosts did not dance at all well, or perhaps he was doing the Serenity Shuffle.
While at dinner, I watched as a small boat came by with a couple of guys putting away their fishing poles. Suddenly, a patrol boat came along side and clamped on to them. They were boarded. I have no idea why, and the only photo I could get was through a slightly grimy window.
Owen went to see The Artist in the theater. He really liked it. Perhaps, plus speaking Italian, he can read lips.
My wife and I watched it on DVD but tired of it not too long after it started. However, trusting that my brother knows film, we’ll try it again.
At 9 PM we headed out to sea for Charleston, South Carolina.