One of the dirty little secrets of the “cruise to nowhere” business is that these vessels are crewed with seamen imported from foreign countries. (Americans, despite being citizens of one of the preeminent seafaring nations, apparently aren’t good enough.) So what happens when — as is sometimes the case — one of these gambling ships is beached by bankruptcy? The imported crew is stranded aboard the vessel.
Allegedly owed $180,000 in back pay, the crew mutinied and refused to take the Palm Beach Princess (the former Finnish liner Llamatar, launched in 1964) out to sea. Now, with the ship idled, the Scrooge McDuck who’s in charge of this operation not only balks at paying the crewmen, he was even going to charge them for the privilege of being flown home. For that miser, keelhauling seems an apt method of payback.
CityCenter urban legend. One of the cherished myths that is becoming received wisdom about Aria is that the casino is “flooded” with natural light. The Los Angeles Times is the latest to parrot this meme. Pardon my French but “flood the casino floor” my ass! I’ve been to Aria three times during daylight and it’s a damned gloomy place … Dungeon Chic, you might call it. (If anyone ever wants to do an S&M-themed casino in Vegas, I nominate Aria.) Fortunately, the LAT piece is accompanied by a photo essay that highlights many of Aria’s best features and affords a peek into some of the areas from which most ink-stained wretches are verboten.
Stymied in Columbus by neighborhood activists, Penn National Gaming is losing no time in Toledo. Making out like a bandit on the deal was the land’s previous owner, which flipped its 2006 acquisition for a $1.9 million markup. Unfortunately, the inking of this pact doesn’t mean Penn has a “shovel-ready” project (to use a baneful White House term). Now it has to wait another six months for Ohio to get a regulatory apparatus into place and then go through the licensing process. So I doubt we’ll see construction before next autumn.
Penn plans a recession-friendly casino, with the de rigeur steakhouse, buffet and food court, but sans hotel. For the record, we can officially scratch $252.5 million off that $1.5 billion in cash that CEO Peter Carlino keeps bragging on. A coupla Ohio casinos here, a Kansas casino there … if Carlino wants a Vegas property, he’d better get on the stick while valuations are still low and operations like the Sahara and Riviera are dragging their tail feathers. He really blew it on Planet Hollywood, but if Boyd Gaming‘s bid for Station Casinos gains traction, Boyd might wind up with more than a few surplus properties it could dangle in Penn’s direction.
