Disembarking at Los Angeles, California
We spent a second day at sea on Sunday the 22nd, our final full day on the Norwegian Sun. I haven’t said much about the ship yet, and I’m going to skip past this sea day now. When I get home I’ll write up a full review of the ship with a few of the 200 or so photos I took on board.
On all other cruise lines I’ve been on, luggage tags are delivered to your cabin on the final night – they tell you when you’re disembarking. When I finally asked our room steward about them, he told me that I had to go to Guest Services to get them. Indeed, there was a box of tags of different colours – you got to pick your departure time and take the appropriate colour. I opted for 09:45, the latest disembarkation time, and took 2 yellow tags back to the cabin. That would make it easier for my sister and her husband to get through Los Angeles to pick us up.
I was on deck early for our arrival at Los Angeles – this one from Deck 12 forward was shot at 06:07.
The empty Observation Lounge was the perfect place to be comfortable as we approached the port, with my outside shooting spot just seconds away.
Back outside at 06:30 for a few shots of these boats.
Entering the port at 06:36, with a Port Police boat passing the light. The port is actually south of Los Angeles, at San Pedro.
Looking up the main channel past the Vincent Thomas Bridge on Highway 47, at 07:07. The port is incredibly large – certainly the largest I’ve ever seen by far.
I hadn’t realized that the historic battleship USS Iowa is docked here, at Berth 87.
We were in the process of being tied up at Berth 93 when Holland America’s Amsterdam came under the Vincent Thomas Bridge to tie up at Berth 91. When I saw her, it occurred to me that the 3 ships nearest us all have some sort of connection with my life: I used the USS Iowa in my second book as a comparison to the cost of the construction of the Alaska Highway – the original cost of that single ship was just slightly less than the cost of the entire highway. The Amsterdam is the ship that Cathy and I were sailing on (in Alaska) when I asked her to marry me. And the nearest freighter was the Northern Justice – my degree from Yukon College was in Northern Justice and Criminology.
Dad and I found a comfortable spot at an outside table on Deck 11 and watched the action. Luggage was taken off one colour at a time, and the passengers in that group would then be called. It was a simple, well-coordinated disembarkation. When our colour was called, we were outside the terminal with our luggage very quickly. Shelly and Dick were delayed by an accident on one of the freeways, but by about 11:00 we on our way north to their home near Santa Barbara, via a more scenic though possibly slower route.
Getting through Los Angeles was a tedious process, and I certainly understand why Shelly and Dick never go there without a very good reason. Eventually we reached the seashore, though, and spotted an episode of The Biggest Loser being filmed on a highway-side dune.
Interesting RV parking along a beach.
In the late afternoon, we reached their home high on the hillside above Santa Barbara. Dick is an excellent cook, and with a bit of wine, Dad and I were both very soon looking forward to spending 4 full days visiting, and exploring the area.
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