The Patriot State is docked at pier #22 , passenger terminal, Port Everglades, Florida, almost within sight of the famous beach in Ft Lauderdale. We picked up the Pilot at 0630 this morning as we anxiously waited in the cool, early morning light, a mile off the coast of this Atlantic Ocean resort city. Despite the early hour, a large number of cadets lined the rail, peering through the mist at their first glimpse of America in almost five weeks. The skyline of Ft Lauderdale ran up the coast to the right and the big hotels of Miami could be seen to the left. Dead ahead, breakers could be seen rolling ashore along the seemingly endless stretch of white beach.

At first, it looked like the ship was heading straight for disaster. Perpendicular to the shore, she steamed at 12 knots directly toward the beach. Only when it got closer could you make out the skinny opening in the sea wall that would allow us entrance to the inner harbor of Port Everglades. Slipping past 15 story high rise hotels and apartment buildings, you were at eye level with people drinking their morning coffee, still in their bathrobes, watching from their balconies. Close enough to say " Good Morning!" to them in a normal tone of voice.

Once through the narrow throat of the harbor, every one was focused on the line handlers standing on the dock. Cadets on the fore-deck nervously gripped and ungripped the coiled "heaving lines" in their hands; looking so much like maritime cowboys on a huge steel horse. They waited for the order from the bridge to toss their lines to the waiting dockhands and then send out the thick ropes that would bind the ship to the shore.

Time slowed down as the Patriot State slowly inched sideways, closer and closer to the white concrete pier. Two tugs pushed noisely from the offshore side of the ship; one up under the bow, one astern. Finally, on the order from the bridge, the spools of thin line arced through the air and the hard, knotted "monkey-fists" fastened to the end bounced on the ground. Dockhands scrambled to grab the heaving lines while cadets quickly tied their end of the line to thick rope "hawsers" that lay neatly on the ship's decks. Pulled ashore, the hawsers were dropped over the top of the bollards that lined the dock, and we were made fast . The ship's loudspeaker blared "Shift Colors", the American flag was run up the aft halyard and we were officially docked. It was 0800. The order: "Finished with engines", was passed down to the engine room and cadets in the offgoing watch hurried to the showers.

After five thousand miles of wandering the Caribbean, the Pacific and the Atlantic; crossing the Panama Canal and the equator; we were back in the United States of America. Everyone had something to look forward to. Spring Break in Ft Lauderdale with 437 of your best friends...it doesn't get much better than this.