New ‘Love Boat’ cruise ship calls Fort Lauderdale home

This January, Nawlins saw its snowiest day since records were kept. North Georgia, including nickname-forfeited Hotlanta, got pummeled by snow, ice and all sorts of nasty road conditions that shut down public transit. And we won’t even get started about what happened in Pensacola.

Winter was a lost cause, and them gelid good ol’ boys and belles were ready to split the South. But their medevac conveyance of choice wasn’t a 1969 Dodge Charger — it was the Sun Princess, the first of the cruise line’s new Sphere class of ships. Just one-year old, and fresh off a stint in the Mediterranean, the Sun started sailing from Port Everglades Fort Lauderdale back in October of this year, to much acclaim.

It will continue to sail from there to the Eastern and Western Caribbean, Mexico and the Bahamas through mid-March before returning to the Med. So, tick-tock (no worries: It’ll be back in November, when it will probably be blizzarding in Death Valley).

Despite its name, the ship doesn’t run on solar panels (yet). Instead, it uses only liquefied natural gas to sail her week- to two-week-long jaunts. (Her nearly twin sister ship, the likewise astrally named Star, is arriving in early October of this year — the biggest difference? There will be no smoking in her casino).

This Sun Princess is also a bit of a prom queen, being christened the newest Love Boat by the company.

So here are the stats she’d post on Hinge: This BBW sports 177,882 tonnage, is a sea-leggy 200 feet high, with 21 decks, and is 1,133 feet long, from aft to the tip of her perfect frontal nose. And for those 4,300 max suitors vying for her 2,157 state rooms (80 suites), Sun has a crew of 1,600 vigilant chaperones.

Intrigued? Swipe right to read about her other charms.

Shorely you jest

Shore excursions can either skew dreamy or nightmarish, depending on, well, the people in tow. Somehow I pulled off the fun version.

First, I landed on Roatán, Honduras, where I was treated not to actual Mayan ruins, but replicas possibly made of papier-mâché, or whatever they use to “Minecraft” IRL. Still, it was well done to the level of “It’s a Small World.” Just BYO-tomatoes if you’d like to recreate an altar heart sacrifice.

Nevertheless, I was here more for the rescued animals they care for on 11.5-acre Maya Key, like pumas, peacocks, spider monkeys, even wild boars. If you’d rather consume critters, included lunch was local chicken served with rice, salad, and of course, drink deals.

Excursion No. 2 in Belize the following day involved those giant fan-propelled airboats folks down on the bayou used to source their gator sliders. We skimmed along the waters of Almond Hill Lagoon.

Guests, who can booze before, during and after the ride, wear protective earphones because that “fan” is so massively loud. To help steer the craft, passengers fully stretch their arms left, up or right, depending on your pilot’s orders. This quickly descended into our lovely captain doing the “YMCA” dance.

Because the water levels were so low, we saw very little wildlife save for a blue-crowned motmot, termites (they nest to eat the dead mangroves) and a social flycatcher. But a baby crocodile sighting saved the day!

En route back (as fast as possible through the mean streets of Belize City) to the ship, our hilarious bus PA emcee taught us a little Belizean creole (kriol): Weh di goan? = What’s up? How yuh name? = What’s your name? Mawnin! = Good morning! (It’s not exactly Mandarin in terms of linguistic difficulty…)

Sadly, submarine excursion day No. 3 was scuffed for me. Because of wind and rain around the island of Cozumel, Mexico’s port of call, I got the I-boot from the U-boot excursion via a sad note under my door the night prior.

Have no fear, I plan B’d it into the heart of the ship, the Piazza, spanning decks 7 through 9, floors easily traversed by classy glass staircases.

A mega-sized Jenga game was in progress, followed by a “Deal or No Deal” show.

I then made a triple-strawberry-margarita run at nearby bar Crooners, grabbed some ‘za at Alfredo’s and inappropriately loud-whispered the more-or-less correct answers during a heated live “Family Feud” showdown.

Rubber room

The Sun Princes can travel up to 22 knots, but that’s not counting the ones in your shoulders, neck and back.

Leave those to the therapists at Sun’s Lotus Spa. Mine was named Shaista, pronounced “sheisty,” but she was anything but, offering up a lovely time-loses-all-meaning (allegedly 75-minute) Swedish massage for $199.

Their fancy robes are something to write home to Mom about, too.

Boatload of food

Fair or not, Japanese workers have a reputation for being all business. But not teppanyaki chefs like the ones at Umai on Deck 8.

You give a man a shiny blade and a chef’s hat he can store eggs on top of and all of a sudden he’s a wild and crazy guy, singing punny Bon Jovi lyrics like, “It’s my rice, it’s now or never.” Then all bets are off.

Enjoy watching this manic slicing, dicing, flipping and other forms of culinary parkour of these guys as they grill eggy “Japanese omelets” mixed with noodles, seafood, veggies, meat, or all of the above, in very high-energy fashion right in front of you.

And if you missed Pier 59’s secretish shoreside pop-up Valentine’s Day restaurant event in NYC on Feb.13 and 14 called Love by Britto — that’d be Roman Britto, a colorful artist with a passion for hearts, to say the least — you can always visit his restaurant on Deck 17.

His $149 seven-course prix fixe menu is, of course, aphrodisiac-filled and the decor is as cardiac-floated as a BTS TikTok live stream.

Neither of those restos strike your fancy? There are like two dozen-plus other eateries and bars around the ship, don’t be lazy.

Circular logic

You know that big, fat-headed staple of Vegas with a cartoonish face and crazy eyes? No, not Carrot Top, I mean the Sphere arena, which often displays a wacky emoji face you can see from space.

Well, as luck should have it, this Sphere-class ship has its own, kind of, called the Dome, “inspired by the hills of Santorini” and given to them by the same folks behind the Strip’s. It’s a 9,494-sqare-foot geodesic venue made entirely of glass with an indoor/outdoor pool at its base.

Think less U2 gigs here and more like acrobatic shows and concerts by authentically Irish trios. Pint of Plain was the one I saw. They fiddled like nobody’s business on stage, trying to encourage the at-capacity crowd of 250 to drunkenly jump up, jump up and get down. Except when said crowd was mostly AARP members and it was after 10 p.m., ’twas a bit of a fool’s errand — but the audience managed to get jiggy with it on their chaise lounges between naps.

Fabracadabra

Magic shows are a ghastly gumbo of corniness, hilarity and breath-taking, brain-bending awe. (Also, hosted by nerds in superhero tees — both Marvel and DC are allowed — under a classy blazer; our illusionist this eve, Woody Aragón, would be Batman). The Victorian-styled “secret room” experience aboard Sun is Spellbound, where you can dine, drink and/or purely possess oneself with the mystification of the night’s tricks and treats.

Sleight of hand is utilized for both card tricks and the pouring of creative cocktails — some of the latter don’t exactly taste great in the classical sense, but it gets your mind in a properly perplexable state (swig the Escape from Houdini’s Chest or the Conjuror and your medulla will be plastered on one wall, the oblongata on another after witnessing their fanciful tricks, some involving live phone video calls!).

But the highlight of the night will be the presence of possibly the first AI to replace us humans: a “player piano,” which was invented in 1895 by Homo sapien traitor Edwin S. Votey. But Spellbound’s pianist didn’t go quietly, as a ghost named Isabella is the actual ivory tickler behind the tunes. She also takes requests, so feel free to get all Brat with it.

The only catch of this place (“hidden” behind a door with a giant “S” on it in the casino) is you have to properly primp up for the occasion. But if you happen to be a flaky, slob of a Californian who forgot to pack a dressy jacket — ahem — they’ll promptly track one down for you with a polite nod and a hanger ($149).

For more info on booking, visit Princess.com/sunprincess.