The ferry approached the island to a scene that had not been seen in many years. Emptiness, the jetties of the ferry landing were completely abandoned save for a lone dimorphodon that sat perched at the edge and watched for several minutes as the ship approached before departing as it drew close, flying off towards the center of the island. From here it looked like any other small tropical island, and on this clear winter day it was actually kind of beautiful. Without hundreds of people at it's shores the only real indication of the park was the 'Welcome to Isla Nublar' banners that hung above the jetty.

Tuvya borrowed a pair of binoculars from the ship's captain as they came close to the landing. From the stairway next to the bridge he scanned across the jetty and onto what of the island he could see through the thick tropical forest. He was looking for any sign of survivors but was met with nothing, not a single sign of a living human. He noted an abrupt movement of the foliage near the waters edge that he only caught a glance of but dismissed it as likely wildlife, assuming any survivor on the island would be eager to get the attention of any passing ship. 

The ferry passed by without incident and approached it's destination, hidden from the ferry landing by a copse of trees about a half a mile north stood the utility dock. As it came into view it's unremarkable features were revealed, a single roomed guard post and a utility shed set atop a large concrete platform the terminated at a dirt road that led onto the island proper. In addition a  white and blue crane truck with the Jurassic World logo one the door and a similarly decorated forklift sat parked near the edge of the platform.

As the ship drew closer Tuvya stepped into the ship's bridge and grabbed the PA microphone, clearing his throat before pressing the button on the side and speaking. "If you look to the northeast you can see our destination, when we arrive we'll be disembarking the vehicles onto the utility platform. Once they're on the island the ferry will depart and we'll be stuck on the island until we're done. From there we'll cut across the golf course to get to 'Main Street' stopping at the clubhouse to search for any survivors in between." 

He paused before continuing, "Main street might still be overrun with less than friendly dinosaurs, so be prepared for that, I'd defer to Mr. O'Malley on how to handle that eventuality. If you have any questions, now is the last time to ask." 

He hung up the microphone and exited the bridge, continuing downstairs to the ferry's main deck. Where he leaned against the grill of the Unimog and reached for the cigar in his breast pocket before thinking better of it. Instead he just stared at the utility platform as the ferry closed in on it's destination.