The Crossing
Remember Winston Churchill’s famous saying that, “there is
nothing so exhilarating as to be shot at without result?” Well, for a boater
there is nothing so exhilarating as to cross the Gulf Stream without event. Our
crossing was just about perfect. The waves were only about two feet, the winds
were less that 10 MPH, there was very little big ship traffic; in short, our
cruise could hardly have been better.
On the way over, via radio, we became re-acquainted with our
friends Denny and Denise aboard their boat Waypoint
II. We later met them for drinks on their vessel and had a jolly good time.
(They had a British friend visiting so that “jolly old” stuff was for him.)
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| Ann making adjustments to the kayak during this week's "Storm of the Century." |
In the days we were stuck at West End we roamed around the
resort, had dinner at their restaurant (which was very good, by the way),
strolled the beach and … are you ready for this … Ann took a dip in the resort swimming
pool!! I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but Ann is not a big-time
swimmer and the water was COLD. Ann also
took a trip to town and activated our phone. We can now make phone calls and
generate a wi-fi hot spot. Oh! We also checked on the temperature in Northern
VA and southern MD (chuckle, chuckle) and watched what some of our friends were
saying about their lives in Oregon, Wyoming and Montana (LOL).
We also met some fellow cruisers. There was Prudi and Rick aboard Rascal’s Retreat, Charlie and Robin on The Lower Place, and Monica and Rick cruising
on Moni Jean. Charlie, from
Mississippi, has one of the strongest southern accents I have ever heard –
anyway, it is the strongest that I can understand. As most of you know, there
are some who twang so much that you can’t understand them.
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| The perfect Bahamian anchorage on a perfect Bahamian day. |
Once the weather finally broke, we headed out to Great Sale. Some
of you may remember my affinity for that particular island. The island itself
is deserted and, on three sides, surrounds a beautiful anchorage with good
protection from three directions and with excellent holding. We were there in a
perfect Bahamian anchorage on a perfect Bahamian Day. Until the next morning.
The Engine
Ack! Ack! Ack! Actually, the starter didn’t sound exactly like
that, the tone was deeper – kind of Uck! Uck! Uck! The point is that the
starboard engine wouldn’t start. After trying to start her for about 20
minutes, I grabbed my tool bag and went down to the engine room. Any of you who
know me know that I have a deep knowledge of mechanical systems obtained by
having spent years at some of the best schools in the country. West Point,
Harvard, Columbia, I have been to all of them. At one of them, I even took
engineering! But as I stood there, bag in hand, forlornly looking at the engine
first, then at the batteries and battery connections (I thought it might have
been low voltage) I realized that none of those fine schools had taught me what
I needed to know – how to start the %^&$ engine. I thought it might be a bad starter or possibly
bad battery connections, but actually I didn’t have a clue what was going on. I
grabbed my screwdriver, looked at that scalawag of an engine, stared straight
into its pistons and sad, as loudly as I could, “Arghhh! Unless you
start working I am going to eviscerate you! I’ll blow your head (gasket) and
throw your (rocker) arms into the sea!” or something like that. I went back up
to the helm and lo and behold … after a hiccup or two the darn thing started.
We immediately changed out intentions and decided we needed
to get to Green Turtle Cay where they had a reasonably competent mechanic and
where we might get Traveling Soul
fixed and on her way. As we were cruising, I noticed a boat following us. It
turned out that Elegante, a boat that
was with us in Great Sale, also had trouble starting one of her engines. We were beginning to think that there might
have been a virus in the waters!
We asked the marina to contact a mechanic for us and for Elegante. They told us, George, the
mechanic would be at the slip on Friday – the day after we arrived. It sounded pretty good if you ask
me; as transients we seldom get that kind of service. It is often before we can
get on a mechanic’s schedule. Anyway, I called George periodically through the
day on Friday and his arrival time kept getting pushed back. Finally, at about
5:00 PM he called and said that we wasn’t going to be able to make the 4 PM appointment,
and would not be there until the next morning. Although I was disappointed that
George would not be here on Friday, I was glad that he worked on Saturday; I
was afraid that he would claim the weekend as his days off – the way the rest
of us do. Moreover, having a mechanic two days after you ask for one isn’t
exactly terrible. So, I was willing to give George a break. So, I am sitting
here at the computer on Saturday 28 January at the Bluff House Marina on Green
Turtle waiting for George to appear. I’ll let you know how things go.
George Day I
I didn’t go anywhere or do anything on Friday or on Saturday
because I was waiting for George. He had said he would arrive at the boat Saturday
morning. Twelve o’clock came and there was no George. I had waited until noon
to call him so I could ask what time of the MORNING he was going to come see
us. He said he had just dropped his mother off at the ferry (who said anything
about the ferry the day before?!?!?!) and was filling his truck with his tools and
would be there in about 20 minutes. He showed up about 1330. Anyway, he immediately
diagnosed my problem – there was insufficient voltage getting to the starter. If
true, that was good news, I had a battery problem (batteries are available on
the island) as opposed to a starter problem (starters have to be ordered from
the States). He wanted to confirm his analysis, so before he did anything else he
wanted to go back to his truck and get a diagnostic tool. When he got to his
truck he took off – yes, as in drove away. AARGH! I could feel the pirate
nine-fingered Mike emerging, but I resisted … I resisted … I swear that I couldn’t
believe it. He just up and left!
I didn’t want to upset him, as George appears to be the only
game in town. After about an hour I called him with gritted teeth and smiling
lips and asked if he was coming back. Yes, he replied, as soon as he did some
jobs his wife had for him. I guess it was about 1530 when George came back with
his diagnostic tool and his wife’s chores completed. He tested the batteries
and confirmed that one was very bad and the others were not in very good shape.
Actually, you could see the leaking
battery acid and feel the heat building in two of the batteries. It was time
for them to go. I told George I wanted all three replaced (we have three
12-volt, Group 27 batteries for each engine), but he argued with me. He thought
the two not-so-good ones might be brought back to life when disconnected from
the bad one and charged overnight. In the event, we agreed that he would get
three new ones and we would leave the two not-so-good batteries on the charger
until he returned.
At about 1700, as promised, George called with the price of the
new batteries: they were $250 each, for a total of $750; that’s seven hundred
and fifty bones, bucks, smackerolas, dollars, greenbacks, simoleons. It is 150 Big
Mac meals and probably a couple of thousand Chicken McNuggets, BUT I prefer to
think of it as simply, ¾ of a Boat Unit. Actually, less than a whole BU is not
that bad in anything for boating, especially in the Bahamas! In the States, a
good marine starting batter would only cost $150 or so. But the problem is … we
aren’t in the States. So, we pay ¼ of a BU each and hope they are decent
batteries.
Sunday began exactly as did Saturday – we were waiting for George.
Hopefully, he is going to deliver the batteries and put them in.
George Day
II
Oh my God. George the
Mechanic deserves his own blog page. He is horribly irresponsible, does not
understand the implications of his own actions and is generally yucky! Maybe
his drunkenness is at the core of the problem, because George is a drunk. I
don’t mean he is an alcoholic; I have had alcoholics work for and with me. It
is not fun, but it is usually manageable. But George makes alcoholics look like
wonderfully responsible people. George is not functional, he is not even an
alcoholic. He is simply a drunk. Now that I have vented, maybe I should
explain.
Ok, I was sitting and waiting for George on Sunday morning. He
called and said that the weather looked better than predicted so he promised to
give me a call about noon to say whether or not he would be at the boat with
the batteries. So, of course, I continued to wait on the boat. I must note than
I didn’t quite understand why George couldn’t work if the weather was bad. The
batteries go inside the boat and he
was not going to get wet working on the batteries!! If he got cold, I could
have turned on the heater. Anyway, I didn’t hear anything else from George
until I called him about 2PM. No, because of the bad weather, he wouldn’t be
there today. I reminded George that we wanted to leave on Tuesday and he told
me not to worry – he would be there Monday morning.
He called Monday morning at about 9:00 to say he was on the way.
He asked me to find out who the dockhand was that day so he could get in touch
with him. I did that and reported back to George. At that point George actually
called the dockhand and asked him to have the dock’s carts arranged to expedite
the movement of the batteries. In fact, he asked him to execute the plan as soon
as George called from a specific landmark on the way to the marina. So far, so
good. Ten O’clock passed, then 11 o’clock. I called George just after noon to ask
him if he was still going to make the battery delivery this morning. He told me
that he had just left and was on the way.
About 3:00 we tried calling George several times and could not get
through. We then went to the office and asked them to call (they had, after all,
recommended George). They couldn’t get through either, so they called him at
home (no answer) and at the boatyard where he sometimes worked. The boatyard
said he left at 1:30 (of course, he told me he was leaving at 9:00). At 5:00
George shows up with a helper Eddie (to do the heavy lifting) and our
batteries! George said he was sorry for being late as he had to fix a flat
tire. At least I think that was what he said. You see, his speech was slurred
and he was drunk; I mean drunk, drunk – absolutely blotto, totally sh*tfaced, completely
shnockered – I guess you get the picture. I was a bit concerned that George
wouldn’t be able to connect the batteries correctly. (Actually, at this point I
could have connected them, but George would have none of it; he was going to
finish the job himself.) Luckily Eddie was there and while he didn’t know all
he needed to know, he could serve as George’s hands during the connection
process. Just to make sure, I got the picture of the connections we had taken
before the process started and made sure all the wires were in the proper
place.
The whole process took only about an hour. I had thought about
telling George off, but why? He is a drunk and everything I said to him would
have fallen on deaf ears. My goal at that point was to pay him and get him out
of here. When he finished with Traveling
Soul, he went to see Elegante,
the boat that also had starting problems at Great Sale. The first thing he did
when he arrived on board was to ask for a beer. ‘Nuff said. |
| The battery connections pre-George |
The next morning we were off to beautiful Treasure Cay. But for
that story, you’ll have to return to the next entry.
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| Spot, sleeping at the Helm |
Spot is enjoying the sun when it is out and if the wind is not
blowing at gale force, she is a happy feline. I am sure the weather will
improve, but then I am a total optimist.
Traveling Soul OUT…
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