I slept though our arrival in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Neither Peter nor I heard the loud silence from engines being cut, distant shouts from dockside crew catching heavy lines to secure the ship, rubber-soled patter from customs, immigration, health department and Coast Guard officials boarding us to allow for entry into the US. Nowhere on our travels did the officers and crew have to experience such scrutiny than that from their own fellow countrymen. I’m glad we missed it, especially since we landed at 0345 (3:45am). Bureaucracy is enough to discourage anyone from working at sea these days. I rose before a gorgeous sunrise, our last, over Bahia de San Juan, where the cruise ships always land, and spent the morning taking videos and photos of all parts of the ship. While this might not
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