Our Monday (which was your Sunday—and how messed up is that?) was the choppiest day we had so far. The Tasman Sea can be rough, but this day it was especially bad. A lot of the crew had dead-eyed smiles pressed to their faces, and admitted to feeling more than a little green. Knock wood: so far we’ve both felt fine.
In the morning, we had to pass by the Australian Immigration Inspection. It was fun to watch all the folks trying to form a straight line towards Immigration and getting tossed against the walls by the rockin’ ship. We made an interesting discovery when we got to the front. A few days prior, at the British/Snoop Invasion, there was a crew of four youngish folks dancing up a storm all night. They were decent dancers (and thirty years younger than most of our fellow cruisers), so we assumed they were staff from the on-board shows. Turns out they were Australian Immigration. Not a terrible job, that: get on board in Dunedin, rock out for a few days, stamp some passports, then disembark back home.
Beyond this, we slept about seventy percent of the day away.
In the morning, we had to pass by the Australian Immigration Inspection. It was fun to watch all the folks trying to form a straight line towards Immigration and getting tossed against the walls by the rockin’ ship. We made an interesting discovery when we got to the front. A few days prior, at the British/Snoop Invasion, there was a crew of four youngish folks dancing up a storm all night. They were decent dancers (and thirty years younger than most of our fellow cruisers), so we assumed they were staff from the on-board shows. Turns out they were Australian Immigration. Not a terrible job, that: get on board in Dunedin, rock out for a few days, stamp some passports, then disembark back home.
Beyond this, we slept about seventy percent of the day away.
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