by Mark Rice
Day 14
Monday 16th January.
Cape Canaveral, Florida, USA.
We docked at 06:00, by which time I was already washed, shaved and dressed.
We rode the lift up to the Palace restaurant and viewed the Walt Disney ship, Dream, tied up a hundred yards away. The huge ship seemed to stretch on forever. Behind it, a stunning red sunrise was unveiling itself and, within twenty minutes, daylight had arrived.
Breakfast in the buffet had an excited bustle about it, with lots of passengers fuelling up before going ashore. Bill and Joan greeted us before heading off to collect their bags for the day. We had our gear with us so we just descended directly to the Gaiety Theatre where we were given yellow badges with 3 on them and sat to the right of the stage with all the other 3s. By 08:20 our group was called to the atrium on deck 6 and with our passports, ESTA'S (US immigration visa forms) and excursion tickets we were on our way into the USA.
American immigration officials were waiting in a large arrival terminal building. All the ship’s crew that were going ashore, were in one queue, while the passengers were in another, which was serviced by six immigration officers in glass cubicles. One of the six was dedicated to clearing disabled passengers and the rest dealt with the able-bodied in a slow meticulous fashion. We chatted amongst ourselves until we reached the front of the queue. Then we advanced to desk five where a white-uniformed officer awaited us. Our fear about our non-biometric passports appeared unfounded as he was happy with both passports.
The fear that I might be on some FBI watch list arose from a comment made some ten years ago when I was passing through John Wayne international airport. I was unable to check in online and so I had to present myself to an immigration officer. He stared into his computer screen and though he let me fly he advised me that I should sort it out when I get home. I never did.
No, the sticking point today was an intermittent fault with the immigration department’s fingerprint scanner and the official struggled to record all my digits. Eventually, I had both hands fingerprinted and I was photographed and released with a cheery "Have a nice day," ringing in my ears. I confess I was a tad nervous but my ability to keep a low profile while quietly reducing the offenders on board appears to be working well.
Sam, our red-haired, blue-eyed tour guide, was waiting for us outside, next to the line of coaches. She gushed cheerfulness and goodwill from start to finish. Europeans find this instant enthusiasm for people never met before hard to swallow. The cynic in us bubbles to the surface but eventually, we are won over by her relentless tirade of goodwill, information and sincerity.
There is a lot of wildlife in the area of the NASA Space Station and Sam pointed out much of it as we drove towards the space complex. We saw alligators sunning themselves by streams, an eagle’s nest, birds of all sorts including spoon-billed birds and small turtles swimming in ponds.
We had paid for the tour that included a visit to the rocket launch pad viewing gallery and the Saturn 8 centre where the Saturn 8 rocket itself is housed. The launch pads, when you finally get to see them, are about three and a half miles away and the gallery we sat in is the closest safe location to watch a launch from. Any closer and the shock wave from the launch would kill you. An IMAX presentation was followed by a visit to a museum that housed many actual rockets, space suits, lunar rocks, lunar vehicles and much more.
A launch of a military satellite was scheduled for that coming Thursday and the next manned mission was scheduled for next year as they test for the Mars landing missions, scheduled to start in 2030.
It was a shame that our visit didn't coincide with a launch but on the plus side the centre was a lot less crowded than it would have been on a launch day.
Then, it was back to the NASA Kennedy Space Centre, which we'd passed on the way in, for further IMAX 3D presentations, a ride in a shuttle flight simulator and a stunning IMAX 3D Heroes and Legends presentation that really felt like you were up in space orbiting the earth.
The shuttle flight simulator had a lengthy queuing system that weaved multiple times as it rose to the ceiling of the complex. It lay bare and devoid of any visitors. We walked briskly to the top of the queue. All along the length of the walkway, experienced astronauts appeared on TV monitors explaining what we might experience and built up our expectation for the ride. Then at the top, we were released into a waiting area and still more explanation of what we were imminently to experience. A final offer was made over the loudspeakers, "If you are of frail or a delicate disposition this is now your last chance to back out."
It was all too much for Margaret, the unfortunate owner of a damaged back. She succumbed to her vivid imagination and their scene-setting skills and at the last moment, she quit the queue in favour of watching the short simulator ride from the control room.
Frankly, I felt underwhelmed when the ride commenced. I can only imagine the sincere astronauts who had eulogised about the ride had more on their mind than the few bumps and rocking movements that transpired in the crude simulation. I've had rougher rides on my lawnmower.
We descended into the complex NASA space centre where real equipment, space suits and moon vehicles were on display. Some you could even touch. Nearby, a recording was running of Glenn Shepherd, the first American in space, being interviewed. When asked why he thought he was chosen to fly the Saturn rocket, he replied; because they ran out of monkeys.
Outdoors, at the back of the centre and behind a park filled with skyscraper high rockets, we found a monument erected to the twenty-four astronauts that had lost their lives to date. Ominously, I noted on the tall black marble edifice, plenty of space was provided for additional names.
The marble monument stood tall on an island surrounded by a lake and could only be reached via a narrow footbridge. A huge alligator sunned himself on the grass next to the water no more than three feet away. An ankle-high fence separated him from us.
We pointed him out to Sam, our guide. "It’s no surprise to me," she answered. "There are actually six alligators living in that lake."
I can honestly say I stood there, staring hard at the still dark water in that lake for the next five minutes, and saw nothing that would lead me to believe that five alligators were hiding below the surface. I was still staring into the water when a women and her wheelchair-bound husband arrived, the couple we had met at the bus stop in Bermuda a few days earlier.
They smiled and came over to stop on the path beside me. “What can you see?” he asked.
I explained about the five alligators being in the water while not creating a ripple on the surface.
He peered, like me, into the inert dark water.
“Look over there,” his wife said, gesturing to us and all our eyes turned to the right, to a small number of bubbles rising to the surface of the water.
“He’s never seen alligators before,” the woman said nodding at her husband. It was clear to me that he was fascinated by the possibility of seeing one.
“Let’s get a little closer,” he whispered to his wife, gesturing that she should move his wheelchair nearer the bubbles.
She disengaged the brakes and grunted as she pushed the wheelchair forward.
Initially, the gentle slope in the ground made further effort from her unnecessary, but within seconds, she was struggling to keep up with the wheelchair, as it gathered its own momentum and slipped away from her despairing grasp. Her husband was freewheeling towards the lake at an alarming speed.
Startled, Margaret and I leapt forward just as the woman tripped and fell, slamming heavily to the ground.
Margaret dropped down to her side and I took off after the wheelchair, which was heading to the very edge of the water.
Fortunately, the slope began to level off and the wheelchair came to a perilous stop. That was until the man in it began to rock about, trying to fling himself out of the wheelchair and to safety. The more he panicked, the more unstable the wheelchair became.
To my absolute horror,
the wheelchair began to slowly slip into the water. His feet were already submerged, so the water now crept up to his knees and his terrified screams of desperation filled my ears. Suddenly the wheelchair dipped forward as if the ground below water had fallen away. I reached for the wheelchair and grabbed it by its handles with both hands. I strongly pulled it towards me. Unfortunately, the man had by now released the straps and had turned to face me, effectively kneeling in the chair. My sudden and violent pulling movement merely served to flip him backwards, head over heels, in the opposite direction.
He flew briefly before landing with a splash in the dark water, disappearing completely for a moment before resurfacing, spluttering and sucking in air.
I flew backwards myself landing on the ground, with the now lightweight wheelchair lying on top of me.
“Get me out of here, for Christ sake, get me out of here!” the man hollered at the top of his voice, while sitting upright in the lake, covered in green algae.
I appreciated the urgency of his situation and, pushing the wheelchair aside, I rolled up my trouser legs with the intention of wading into the water and carrying him out, praying the five alligators story was a product of our guide’s vivid imagination.
Suddenly, the water area around the man became a thrashing mass of flying spray, shredded flesh and glistening white teeth. A frantic feeding frenzy was in full flow and I could see three if not four alligators rotating around the poor man’s bleeding and badly torn body. He very swiftly began to look less like a human being and more like a selection of body parts in a butcher’s abattoir. He never spoke another word and strangely his entire being vanished from the lake waters in less than a minute. The alligators each took their share of him and slid silently back under the water.
Within five minutes, the lake resumed its static dormant appearance.
His watching wife gave out a scream and fell into Margaret’s arms sobbing uncontrollably. Later, Margaret told me that his wife had picked herself up and would have followed him into the water but for Margaret’s intervention. Now the poor woman stood shaking uncontrollably, struggling to come to terms with what she had just seen, the sudden and brutal killing of her husband. It had been a surreal few minutes for all concerned. I don’t believe she could process what she had seen and could accept that this had actually happened. It wasn’t a nightmare that she will wake up from but a traumatic and tragic reality that had just occurred.
I struggled myself to rationalise how our world had gone from tranquility to Armageddon in a matter of seconds.
“There, there now.” The colour had drained from Margaret’s face, and I could see her own hands trembling with shock at what she had just witnessed. “Help is on its way. Don’t fret now. Look away, c’mon, we’ll go over here.” She guided the woman through the crowd that had gathered to sit on a bench nearby.
We discovered, a little later on, that the entire episode had been picked up on the centre’s CCTV cameras. Although several of their staff had arrived within minutes, there was nothing anybody could do. I offered to stay and assist with inquiries but was told that I was free to go.
The resident doctor sedated the poor woman and I considered asking for a little for myself and Margaret too. We were both totally shook up and Margaret couldn’t stop crying.
The collapsed metallic wheelchair was collected by our guide, Sam, who carried it back and placed it in the luggage hold at the bottom of our coach.
“What will happen next?” I asked her.
“Well, the NASA Space Centre staff will no doubt cordon off the lake and relocate the alligators elsewhere while they drain it down to recover, what there is left to be found, of your friend.
The coach trip back to the ship was completed in silence, many people including Margaret and I remained in a state of shock for quite some time.
Only six dined tonight as our Scottish couple were absent. Food was, as ever, delicious and filling but the occurrences of the day had turned my stomach. Margaret similarly only played with her fork.
News of the death had begun to circulate amongst the passengers and Frank asked me had I heard about it?
“I have, Frank, and what’s more, we witnessed it at first hand!” So, without further ado, I summarised our day with Margaret chipping in with bits I’d omitted. I answered what questions I could and had exhausted interest in the subject by the time we rose to leave.
I listened for any news of deaths or illnesses on board from our fellow diners, but nothing was said. The bodies of my earlier victims were probably unloaded here as ship’s protocol required the port to be a town with significant mortuary and hospital facilities and Cape Canaveral had both. Now, just thinking about it, I recalled seeing an ambulance at the quayside early this morning as I walked along the deck heading for breakfast.
Day 15
Tuesday 17th January.
Docked in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, USA.
We joined the number 10 grey badge wearers in the Gaiety Theatre at 08:30.
We’d walked along the promenade deck as our enormous cruise liner entered the narrow channel from Fort Lauderdale’s coastline to the harbour's inner dock. Our ship moved gracefully past dozens of multi-storey apartment blocks, our height matching that of multi-storey residential blocks on shore.
Then, the Captain ordered the navigation officer to engage the thrusters and the 69,000-ton monolith began treading water as gracefully as a swan before moving sideways towards the dock. Ever so slowly the sleek smooth vessel approached the crude wooden pier with only a row of rubber tyres to absorb the impact should the engines fail to break in time.
I need not have feared as the contact with the tyres when it came, was minimal. The ship's deckhands threw down the ropes and they were caught by dock workers and tied up to large iron knobs located fore and aft on the pier. Within minutes two gangplanks were lowered from the ship and a pair of pop-up marquees with carpet appeared at the foot of them.
Immigration delayed departures from the ship by twenty minutes, but when we eventually disembarked there was no need to produce passports as, apparently, we'd undergone a thorough vetting yesterday. The Homeland Security team had decided that there was no need to repeat the exercise today. So we boarded the coaches having only to display the ship account cards and our excursion tickets.
Jane, our guide, was already on board and we set off for the Everglades once all fifty of us were on board.
The journey took us half-an-hour outside the town of Fort Lauderdale, thus named after a General who had spent less than thirty days’ in the town before dying on his return to Washington. It was one of a series of forts built by the United States during the Second Seminole War.
Further stories poured from Jane's mouth, such as the fact Fort Lauderdale is the USA's number 1 destination for college graduates seeking to unwind over the Easter break.
Continuing on with our excursion, we reached the Everglades Airboat tour base
We then stepped onto a lightweight airboat which took about twenty passengers. I brought ear plugs which were immediately put into use as the airboat's engine at full throttle was deafening.
We enjoyed one burst of high-speed travel through the marsh canals of the Everglades and then the boat's captain slowed it down for photo opportunities with three alligators and two iguanas.
I surveyed the sleeping killing machines, their long powerful tails stretched out on the sandy soil and a shiver ran through my body. I would be treating these jagged skinned alligators with new respect, given their species’ performance yesterday.
How could I have changed yesterday’s outcome? Roger suggested I could have smacked one on the snout or gouged his eyes with my fingers. Possibly, I conceded but what would I then do about the four other alligators whilst I am taking this one on?
The twenty-minute ride was enjoyable, but we really only travelled a very short distance before returning to the dock.
Afterwards, we drove to Flamingo Gardens, a botanical garden and wildlife s
anctuary close by.
The coach had us back on board by 16.00 and there was just time for a tennis session before showering and changing for dinner.
Our fellow diner, Craig, had come down with a cold so was missing tonight. We finished dinner and stood on deck as our massive ship bade farewell to Fort Lauderdale in the gathering gloom.
A US Customs speedboat with a mounted submachine gun and gunner up front accompanied us to the open sea. Its amphibious lightweight frame more bouncing along the tips of waves than cutting through them.
Glancing to my left, I saw miles of darkened beaches extending as far as my eye could see. The absolute darkness reached inland too, to encompass the neighbouring roads and building. It all looked a bit odd.
Then the penny dropped. Turtles hatching season. No light pollution to confuse the little guys who need the bright moonlight to make their way to the ocean. Miles of darkened beaches. Now it all made perfect sense.
Day 16
Wednesday 18th January.
Docked in Key West, Florida, USA.
We pulled into the harbour and I watched it all from the television in the bedroom. Margaret was showering as the engines moved us the final inches inwards towards the harbour dock and the cabin walls vibrated.
The ship’s upper deck gave us a plum view of the beautiful harbour and town of Key West. It is “Toy Town” tidy and looks just too perfect to be real.
We ate well at breakfast and, once we'd packed our bags, it was off to deck 6 where we trod down the gangplank and onto US soil. We bought a pair of hop-on-hop-off Old Town Trolley Tours tickets and off we went. The trolley looks like what we’d call a tram and travels on the tarmac roads. Painted orange and green, it traverses all of Key West and stops thirteen times, four of which are purely hotel stops so not worth dismounting for.