Being lifted at Power Boats
Sorry there has been a wait for this instalment but in June we headed back to the UK for an oh-too-fleeting visit to family and friends. However, we pick up the story with Resolute departing Grenada at the end of May 2014 en route to Trinidad.
Action stations! The hurricane season waits for no man so south we must head to Trinidad. Awaiting us there was a very different pace to that which had lulled us in Grenada. The 78 miles between the islands meant we had to leave Le Phare Blue Marina at the crack of dawn to ensure we had maximum light on arrival in the busy commercial harbour of Chaguaramas in Trinidad. Apart from a nasty windy squall which left Gilly a tad demoralised, the sail was uneventful. For the first time since leaving the North Sea about a year earlier we were confronted by the ugly jagged profiles of oil rigs which were closely guarded by patrolling security boats. As dusk fell we were able to see the lights of Trinidad ahead but to our dismay we also noticed a black sheen on the surface of the water all around us. Oil. Not just thin wisps here and there, but a thick gloopy layer which seemed to stretch as far as our eyes could see. Colin got on the radio to the coastguard to report the spillage which we presume was then duly noted though we heard nothing else. Under fast approaching darkness we tiredly arrived in the massive Chaguaramas Bay. It had been a U.S. naval base in World War II and seemed enormous and frenetic with all sorts of boats both commercial and pleasure darting hither and thither or moored to anything remotely stable. A far cry from the quiet, lazy bays to which we had latterly become accustomed. It had been made very clear in our pilot guide book that the first port of call when arriving in Trinidad MUST be the Customs and Immigration offices which were open 24/7. Our book helpfully informed us too that there was a pontoon adjacent to the Crews Inn Marina in the corner of the bay designated for arriving boats needing to clear in…..but could we find it? No. We went past several times but there were no signs to say where we should tie up. Eventually Gilly resorted to asking a passing stranger on the dockside who shrugged helpfully adding as an afterthought that we should get on the radio. Gilly sent out a by now rather plaintiff cry on the radio for help and as if by magic back came the answer we required that the pontoon we had passed several times was indeed where we needed to park – the person on the radio from Crews Inn Marina also said he would send someone down to help take our lines (as the quay was quite high). Still rather bemused that the landing place was so anonymous and had no sign to discern its use we were greeted by a helpful chap who took our lines and introduced himself as Mohammed. He directed Colin to the Customs and Immigration offices and suggested that after he had cleared in he should report to the Crews Inn office. Kindness itself. Colin duly set off with all our papers and passports. Whilst he was away I started cooking our evening meal and when despite our exhaustion after a very long day we raised a glass to celebrate our arrival in Trinidad at last. Whilst eating supper Colin explained that he had only been able to visit Customs as Immigration had shut for the night until 6 a.m. The Customs man had suggested we stay put and visit Immigration as early as possible adding that we were not permitted to go ashore until we had done so. No matter – we had arrived and all was well….or so we thought! As we were finishing our meal a very agitated Mohammed arrived back and began shouting about how we had disobeyed his suggestion to visit the Crews Inn office. Colin patiently explained to him that he had not done so because he had been unable to complete the clearing in process, so we needed to stay put until Immigration opened the next morning. Mohammed was very perturbed saying that we had caused “a very difficult situation and ordered Colin to come and see my boss now!”. Now, as most of you who know Colin will understand, he doesn’t take too kindly to being ordered to do anything….especially since his military days are over. Somewhat bemused and exasperated at all this unseemly fuss he refused to go but promised we would move the boat as soon as we had been to Immigration first thing in the morning. It was clear that Mohammed wanted us to see his boss and take a berth in the Crews Inn marina adjacent to the pontoon he had placed us on which we believed was for the sole use of those needing Customs and Immigration services. All we wanted to do was get some sleep, do the formalities and then be free to find somewhere quiet to while away a few days before being lifted. As we tried to put Mohammed’s ugly outburst behind us we cleared up the supper things and made ready for bed….but then we heard voices above on the pontoon. Colin went back upstairs. There was Mohammed with 2 hench security guards who were insisting we were refusing to vacate a Crews Inn berth for which we were not prepared to pay. Now hold on a minute we said…..there was nothing at all to say we were on a Crews Inn berth….as far as we were concerned we were on a designated berth to clear in – a process we were unable to complete until the morning. We reiterated that Mohammed’s tone had been completely out of order, insisting as he did that we visit his boss immediately when we felt there was no need. However, Colin agreed to visit the Crews Inn office in the morning after visiting Immigration. The security guard, trying to keep his tone level said with some menace that that was not the way things were done in Trinidad and he would have to summon the police. With this threat we decided discretion was the better part of valour…mumbling about our disappointing welcome to Trinidad and the discourtesy shown to us we untied our lines and made off for a free visitors buoy which thankfully we had noticed on the way in to the bay. Feeling exhausted and dejected we motored over to the buoy which was thankfully still vacant in the busy choc-a-bloc harbour and were grateful to be able to secure it without drama. We retired to bed in the early hours knowing that after only a few hours sleep we would need to blow up the dinghy and return to Immigration. But before Colin could settle he vented his spleen about the whole sorry episode to the Manager of Crews Inn (whose card he had insisted on having before we took our hasty departure) in an email. Of course in the cold light of day it was pretty clear to us that with our objective so blatantly clear, the message would have been intercepted before reaching the boss and as no reply was ever received we assumed this to be the case. Ultimately, as sleep healed our anger and the business of the subsequent days preoccupied us we forgot our rude welcome and sought the Trinidad of smiling hospitality which we knew existed.
We managed a few days at anchor before the rigours of the lift and preparations for returning to UK. These days coincided with a public holiday in Trinidad – Indian Arrivals Day. Perhaps I should explain….nearly half the population of Trinidad and Tobago originated from Eastern India. Known as the Forty-Fivers they were invited to come by the British Government in 1845 after the abolition of the slave trade meant a scarcity of workers on the plantations. They were offered an indenture for 5 years at the end of which they could choose to stay or return to India. The scheme was very popular and an influx of eager workers was just what the country required to find its feet again after a period of adjustment from the cruelty and intolerance of the slaving era. Trinidad has never looked back. The footprint of the proud Indian heritage brought by the Forty-Fivers is everywhere and never expounded more loudly than on May 30th as we found out to our cost. Chilling nicely on our anchorage in Scotland Bay round the corner from Chagauramas, we had spent the last few days doing little more than making lists (work required on the boat; things to take to UK; jobs to do before the former), swimming and enjoying the rain forest clad surrounding hillsides echoing with howler monkeys living up to their names and exotic bird calls. Knowing it was a public holiday the following day we watched as boat fulls of gaily clad Indian Trinidadians disembarked and quietly set up make shift tents and barbeques. All was still as we went to sleep on the night of the 29th….until the stroke of midnight when pow! We were woken from our slumbers by the loudest and strangest music we have heard whilst in the Caribbean. On further inspection we saw that amongst the innocuous tents and feeding stations were huge speakers bellowing out a cacophony of traditional Indian sitar and high warbling vocals mixed with Marleyesque ‘every tings gunna be alrite’! And so it continued until about 5 a.m. with general dancing and revelry followed by a brief sleepy pause until about 7.30 a.m. when the small loop of Indian/Afro-soca began all over again….at which point we wearily weighed our anchor and let them enjoy their special day.
We wended our way back into Chaguaramas and parked ourselves in the Power Boats Marina below the rather forbidding edifice of the massive boat hoist. We busied ourselves dodging the heavy showers to take off the sails and spray dodger; put the necessary preservatives in the water maker and cleaned out the holding tank (yuk!). Thankfully Colin had had the forethought to service the engine whilst we were in Grenada so with all in readiment we waited for the morning lift. There was no sleeping through the loud growling of the boat hoist engines right outside our window the next morning. We hurriedly threw on our clothes and met the many smiley faces of the crew who day after day many times over mastered the tricky manoeuvre of lifting yachts out of the water and transporting them deftly to their appointed slot amongst the hundreds and hundreds ashore at this time of year. Resolute soon joined the masses propped up on the hard. As she was slowly raised up we were somewhat alarmed to see her bottom…..covered by thousands of barnacles. Now this would not have caused alarm had we not spent a lot of time and money in the UK last summer having copper coat applied to prevent barnacles from calling her bottom home! ‘Don’t worry….day come off wid de spray’ we were informed by one of the helpful lifting crew who, armed with a powerful jet washer set to at blasting the barnacles. Unfortunately these particular molluscs weren’t the moving kind and many clung on vociferously through their blasting…..staring back defiantly at us as the jet wash man left us. Barnacles have no place on boat bottoms because they proliferate and slow the boat down considerably so there was no choice…they had to come off. One by one we picked them off with a chisel and scraped away the calcified circle left on the hull. Two hot days later and with the clock ticking to our departure to UK she was at last barnacle free. The hull was then abraded a little with sand paper (supposedly to let some fresh copper come through to the surface) all over and finally the propeller was sanded and Brasso’ed to a gleam. Phew!
Power Boats is an amazing place. Alongside other marinas and yards in the Chagauramas Bay its raisin d’etre is to haul boats out of the water and provide whatever work and services are required to the yachts and their owners whilst ashore. To prevent any sharp practice, there is a wonderful chap called Brent who holds a list of ‘preferred providers’ to the yard….a team of independent workers who provide every skill and service imaginable but who are commissioned and overseen by Brent. We took to him our wish list: two teak boxes for the stern (to accommodate gas bottles and fuel tanks hitherto held in the anchor locker and therefore homeless when the anchor was in use); new teak cross-hatched cockpit sole; renewal of cockpit seating; sail repairs and the making of a large waterproof awning; the moving of the life raft to a new stainless steel bracket on the outside of the stern (to make room for the aforementioned teak box). Brent put us in touch with fellows who in his opinion would manage the tasks, inviting them all to give us quotes to see if we could have it all done within our rather meagre budget. The next day we held court aloft as these chaps came to measure and sigh ominously when we explained the tight one month timescale for the completed work. As we left for the airport on 4th June all the work had been commissioned and Brent was sworn to project manage the lot. With caution to the wind we left Resolute amongst so many others up on her stilts, waiting for the attentions of her work force.
Trinidadian oil rig
At anchor in Scotland Bay
resolute-en-voyage 